Tumgik
#sorry this is lengthy but i have a lot of feelings about it
cocteaucherry · 2 days
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trials and tribulations .3
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summary- falling in love with your sworn enemy was not something you planned.
cws- p&p au/ bridgerton au, inaccurate use of regency language, 18+, misogyny, sexual tension, future smut in later chapters, slow slow burn, LENGTHY descriptions, ooc Suguru, suguru x f!reader, talks of f!masturbation , not proofread
a/n- awkward silence when I up and left for 22 days with no explanation, I’ll touch more on that in a later post but for now enjoy!
taglist @mandysfanfics, @ti-mame, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer
The rain belted on the glass as you stood on the other side watching as the world washed away.
You felt as if you needed a cold bath, something to wash the prints of Suguru Geto’s touch off your clothes, your hands graced over the areas where his touch lingered.
Why did you feel deprived of his touch? Why did you need his touch?
“Miss l/n I’m sorry to interrupt-“
He was caught off guard by your small yelp, you had to be more attentive in this house
“Sorry Ijichi! I get lost in thought a lot.” You bowed in apology before he also returned one.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more gentle with my approach.” He cleared his throat with a small smile, “It’s getting rather late and the rain hasn’t stopped.. we would offer you a carriage home but the roads have been washed out.”
“I guess I’ll wait for the rain.. or I’ll try to walk.” You shrugged contemplating your options, you really didn’t want to walk especially in this weather.
“Actually, Mr. Gojo has offered you to stay in a spare room for the evening.. we wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”
You smiled before letting out a small laugh, “I’m very grateful.. but I don’t want my mother and father to worry.”
“We assure you that your parents won’t be worried, I’m sure they’d be more upset with us for letting you walk home in this.”
Your eyebrow rose as you crossed your arms, “Forgive me for asking, I know he’s ill at the moment but will I ever get to see him during this visit?” The request came out rather timidly to your dismay but it made Ijichi sweat nonetheless.
“Well-uhm- you see Mr. Gojo wouldn’t want you to get sick as well.” Ijichi was definitely not great under pressure, you noted.
You uncrossed your arms nodding your head, “alright then, I will happily stay in a room until the rain stops.”
“Then you may follow me.”
Your head was spinning with questions, why would Ijichi possibly lie abt Gojo? Why would Gojo invite you knowing he was ill? Your heart ached in your chest, Geto's actions being the one to cause it.
Your stomach dropped and your blood ran cold, if the roads were washed out that means Geto couldn’t get back as well? Was he also going to stay?
You shook your head pushing the thoughts away. Hopefully you’d only encounter him one more time tonight.
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
“Suguruuu~ are you listening?”
Suguru was snapped out of thought, he stood before Gojo’s bed, the white haired man staring at him with a sick grin. “Yes… I am.” He mumbled, pushing strands of rain soaked hair out of his face.
“Y’know, for a man who’s supposedly sick you seem rather energetic .”
Satoru smirked, leaning his head back, “I’m just plagued and riddled with sickness Sugu, and it seems you are too..” he pointed a finger wagging it teasingly.
The raven haired male stared blankly at him, crossing his arms, “I’m perfectly fine Satoru, please get some rest or die of pneumonia.” He turned on his heel, preparing to exit, “I’m going home-“
“Yeeesh about thattt- I’m afraid you’re not going home anytime soon, roads washed out.”
Geto froze a vein appearing above his eyebrow, “Am I supposed to stay here for the night?”
“With her yes, maybe if you’re lucky she’ll give you a kind ‘goodnight’” Satoru hummed, staring out the window to see the tumultuous rain belt down.
“Not planning on it, Satoru,” Suguru mumbled, stepping out of the room.
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
The rain wasn’t letting up anytime soon.
You found yourself wandering the halls, the occasional strike of lightning helping to guide your way.
You admired the classic oil paintings that adorned the ornate halls smiling to yourself when you found a portrait of a familiar face.
hair as pure as snow with a slightly rounder face and those blue eyes that seemed to bore into your soul.
Although just like usual he was never alone, always accompanied by what seemed to be his shadow.
Dark hair that was shorter with those intense amber eyes.
“Thought you went home miss l/n”
this man truly was a shadow.
You turned to the voice of Suguru Geto, but he looked more undone. Hair slightly wet as it fell past his back some strands stuck to his forehead.
“How come you’re always near or behind him?” You ignored his question pointing your head to the portrait, footsteps echoed as he stood next to you. “How come you never answered my question?”
“Why would I answer you? Why should I?” You spun to face him as he avoided eye contact with you, “You never give me a reason to answer kindly.” You scoffed as you walked impossibly closer to him, Geto’s heart skipped a few beats as he finally made eye contact with your gaze.
He cleared his throat trying to regain his stance (control), “Satoru and I have been together for…awhile, while we both are wealthy, his family is significantly stronger.”
“So that makes you his equal, even possibly a scapegoat.” You stepped back, your eyes quickly shifting to his hand that twitched at your movement.
A grin appeared on his face, “Quite the opposite, I help save his ass on multiple occasions. He’s not the best at keeping his head straight.. or keeping his pants on.”
You choked on your saliva at the sudden mention which caused him to chuckle from his throat, “What? I know a forward woman as yourself isn’t taboo to the mention of sex? Satoru excels at that.”
You felt a blush creep under your skin, “What makes you think that?”
“The way your face visibly became uncomfortable told me that,” his eyes drifted quickly up and down your frame, “I can tell when a woman is.. how do I say this? Frustrated?”
“Frustrated?!-“ you yelled out but quickly covered your mouth to whisper it, “I’m frustrated because you- you’re!-“ you stuttered angrily, scolding yourself for not having a better comeback.
“Maybe you should try exploring your own body first before going after someone like Satoru, just a suggestion,” Geto said, turning on his foot to walk down the darkened hallway.
You had almost forgotten it was raining during the conversation, the soft patter of rain filling your ear drums as you try to reconcile what just occurred.
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
You weren’t sexually frustrated, You weren’t sexually frustrated,
You repeated in your head as you buried yourself into the pillows of the way too extravagant bed, “ridiculous, he doesn’t know anything..” you mumbled clasping your hands close to your chest.
You tried to force yourself to drift off to sleep but your head began to pound and your body became warm, the handprints he left on your waist, they still left an excruciatingly burning linger. The way his hair framed his face annoyed you.
His avoidant stare annoyed you. His soft voice annoyed you, his strong hands annoyed you. His sly smirk, His perfect teeth, the way his fingers graced your breasts.
His last words echoed in your head broken by your lust “Explore, body”
You were taught otherwise in your life, should you?
You felt your hands drift towards your panties playing with the hem, would you really touch yourself out of Suguru Geto’s words?
You let out a frustrated groan, you couldn’t let him win.
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djarins-cyare · 2 days
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WIP Wednesday!
✨Featuring: a taste of smut and a poll✨
Tagged by @beskarandblasters today (thanks Kel!) and @burntheedges literally like 4 weeks ago but I’ve been working 80-hour weeks and am really behind with interactions (so thanks Kate and sorry this is late!) 💙
They’re slightly different templates, so I’ll use the one with more detail and a poll because that’s always fun…
STEP ONE: post snippets of the fics you’re working on (can be a summary if there’s no snippet) STEP TWO: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on
There’s some NSFW content, so under the cut if you please…
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As usual, I’ve given you far more than is strictly necessary, but you can’t shut me up, so here you go…
1. From To See A Thousand Things (guns n’ angst – the winner of my last WIP poll):
“What was that word you just said? Did you call me something rude?” “Kaan’goran. It means ‘weaponsmith’ in Mando’a. I don’t know your name and that’s what you are.” Oh. He says it matter-of-factly, but you’re strangely disappointed somehow. Maybe it’s time you introduced yourself to the man you’ve been anonymously fucking for over a year. This is a night of firsts, after all. “Well, you can call me—” “Don’t,” he insists, surprising you. Your face instantly falls, wondering why the hell that’s the arbitrary line he’s drawing in the sand tonight. But he sees your dejection and sighs, offering an explanation. “In my culture, names aren’t used flippantly. They’re titles, and they’re used as such: a full name to denote one’s clan when necessary, but otherwise rarely spoken. Those individuals who have a job of high standing are referred to by their professional titles – jobs that provide for the whole tribe rather than just their individual clan. To a Mandalorian, a weaponsmith is a noble profession. You forge the implements we defend ourselves with.” Okay, that’s… weirdly sweet. Oh… no. Oh hell no. Fuck off warm fuzzy feeling that’s rising in your belly. This will not do! You furrow your brow, confused and slightly annoyed about… well, basically everything, from his intentions to your emotions. Time to clarify. “You’re... complimenting me?” “I’m… respecting you,” he counters carefully. You can’t help the small snort of amusement that makes its way unbidden through your nose at that. This is definitely a night of firsts.
2. From an unnamed lengthy oneshot (starts a little angsty but builds to fluff and a helmet reveal):
“Din?” you try. His helmet jerks slightly at his name, but he doesn’t look. You deserve more, so you demand more. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.” He shifts uncomfortably and shakes his helmet a little. Was that a response? A refusal to talk? Try being more direct. “Hey. That’s not fair. You don’t get to touch me like that and then pull away without saying why.” “That’s the problem,” he responds, voice like steel. “I know it’s not fair. I shouldn’t have touched you like that.” There’s something bitter in his tone, and it poisons the air between you. But you still don’t understand, and the ache in your chest festers higher. “I wasn’t complaining,” you try. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?” For some reason, your hesitancy about crossing this line with him has vanished. You think he erased it when he groped your ass just now. “Yes, I know,” he snaps loudly, suddenly sounding angrier than you’ve ever heard him. “Do you know why it can’t happen?” You shake your head, too surprised at his sudden fierceness to respond verbally. Actually, you have some idea (a lot of ideas), but you’d rather hear his explanation. But you don’t get an explanation. You get a dismissal. “Then you don’t know me very well at all.” And with those acidic, modulated words, he turns his back on you and marches into the canyon.
3. From Final Sanctuary (interestingly, this was the second-lowest rated in my last WIP poll, so I’m giving you a whole little smutty section to see if that’s still the case):
He takes several bites before he remembers she wants his opinion, and he swallows and resets the helmet, glancing up at her. She’s watching him, chewing slowly with what he can only describe as a smug smile on her lips. “Good, huh?” she prompts, punctuating her question with another bite. He’s about to respond when her bite causes a bit of the white dip to ooze out of the bread and smear across the corner of her mouth. Dank farrik, his brain instantly leaps into motion and flashes a full and detailed sexual fantasy before his eyes in a matter of milliseconds. …his hard cock between her warm lips, pressing deeper into her mouth as she moans and sucks his length… She clearly feels the rogue smear of dip, but with both hands clutching the bread, she utilises her tongue to recapture it, a wanton pink delight darting out of the corner of her mouth and Din swells in his pants. …she licks and flutters around his cockhead, massaging the sensitive spot underneath and undulating it along the bottom as she sinks lower again… But the viscous white liquid has dripped farther than her tongue can reach, leaving a smear a little way down from the corner of her mouth, and he intently focuses on it. …the perfect confluence of pressure and suction brings him right to the edge of ecstasy, and he orgasms hard, filling her mouth with so much cum that it leaks and spills down her chin… Before he’s even aware he’s doing it, Din is reaching for her. He sees his hand extend across the crate between them, but he can’t stop it. She’s hunched low to reach the food, and the crate is small, so he doesn’t have to learn far, and although her eyes widen in surprise, she doesn’t flinch or pull away. His thumb only hesitates for a second before wiping up the dip, but it hovers there for longer afterwards, coated in white and unsure how to proceed. …she swallows his cum, and he wipes up what spilled out, pressing his thumb into her mouth so she doesn’t miss a drop, and her tongue eagerly licks it up… Just as he makes the rational decision to withdraw his hand, she turns her head, aligning her lips with his thumb, and a rush shoots through him… but he’s already in motion, retreating back to his side of the crate. It’s too late. Would she have done it? Licked his thumb? Dank farrik, he’s so hard over the possibility. Thankfully, he’s pretty sure that between his loose pants and the cross-legged position he’s in, nothing’s on display, plus he’s sitting close to the crate anyhow. Neither of them has spoken yet, although he’s not sure if his voice works right now. Still, he has to answer her question about the meal, so he rasps out the only word that comes to mind. “Delicious.”
I have several others, but these are the fullest, although they’re incomplete and unedited.
Feel free to send me an ask or leave a comment if you want to discuss these any further!
A few NP tags: @ceapa-mica @penvisions @papurgaatika @for-a-longlongtime @draculasfavoritewife @whxtedreams @alltheotps
I'll just get comfy and wait for the poll results...
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silenthillmutual · 10 months
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i really wanna play and experience pathologic BUT i am not great at video games / my enjoyment of games vastly drops with difficulty. does playing pathologic on god mode in any way decrease or fundamentally alter the experience?
in a way, yes, it does fundamentally alter the experience to play on god mode. but i think i'm maybe in the minority here when i say that it doesn't matter in the same way that playing, like, a souls game on god mode would fundamentally alter the experience of playing it. difficulty is part of the point in both, yes; pathologic 2 in particular literally applauds you for playing on the intended difficulty. but combat also isn't really the intended objective of either pathologic game. it's something you do that, to me, becomes increasingly aggravating as the games go on.
i see a lot of argument about how the game is "not even that difficult guys!" which is, in my opinion, a really rude response to have when someone says they're struggling with something. i think i've seen the Git Gud response more from other pathologic fans than i have from other bloodborne fans so far. whether pathologic is "actually" difficult or not is entirely subjective; i've met plenty of people who say they're bad at games who find pathologic a breeze. personally, i'm mediocre at games and i struggle with the combat to the point where i usually turn god mode on at some point during the game. there are workarounds to avoid catching the plague and some people manage to master the combat. good for them! but to me, the appeal of the games (and classic especially) has never been the combat, but the story.
my personal advice is to try it out as intended first. don't be seduced by urgency; see how far in the game you can get! maybe it won't be an issue for you! but if it is, god mode it.
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larentslovechaos · 1 year
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Can you elaborate? I'm not too active in fandom spheres >.<
wellllll she's just.. not a good person from what i understand? and i wish ppl would stop turning a blind eye to it just because she makes slightly relatable songs lol
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barefoothighlander · 10 months
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never going back again - 01
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summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup
simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader
warnings: mdni (18+), violence, depiction of wounds, blood loss, mention of scars
next part masterlist
a/n: this poll won so here's the first part, enjoy
Ghost pulls himself from the rubble, the sound of the blast ringing in his ear, his whole body hurts but he can’t pinpoint where, he brings his hand to feel over his chest before looking down, definitely bleeding, he struggles pulling his weight out from under the rocks.
“All teams this is Ghost how copy?”
It’s radio silence,
“All teams this- ah” He winces as his headphones crackle, a small spark hitting his ear. They must’ve broken in the impact, his body blown back at least 15 feet from the blast, he manages to pull himself from the debris, wincing every time he stretches his stomach. He stands, moving to grab his side arm as his vision blurs, he looks down, a pool of red forming where he had just laid. He needed extraction, and fast, he looks around, clocking his location before advancing through alleys trying to make his way to the safe house.
He manages makes it out of the city in under an hour, stumbling over rocks and pot holes, his vision straining due to the loss of blood. In the distance he makes out a small cottage, assuming that was the safe house he limps towards it. He scans the area trying to find any sign of life before making his way to the door, knocking in a pattern that would signal it was him. He’s braced against the doorframe, his head hung in front of him as the door opens, he makes out a woman’s figure and a small gasp before collapsing on the deck and passing out.
You stand in your door way utterly shocked, the last thing you expected was a giant man wearing a skull mask, covered in blood, collapsing on your doorstep. You’re taken in a blind panic, your fight or flight in full force, you kneel down, your fingers pressing against his neck, he’s breathing and you can feel his heartbeat, you glance behind him for any sign of who might’ve done this, there’s no one there. You lock your arms under his shoulders, struggling to drag him into the house, knowing there was no way you could lift him to the couch so you let him lie in the walkway.
You rush to your bathroom to grab your first aid kit, kneeling back at his side trying to locate the origin of his bleeding, he’s completely passed out but you still mutter a quiet sorry as your hands pull his shirt up, his chest covered in the thick red fluid, you grab gauze to put pressure on the wound, its lengthy, not from a bullet.
You curse yourself, trying to remember the order of things, you breath deeply pouring some alcohol into his cut, his eyes strike open as he tries to sit up in panic.
“I’m sorry! I had to clean it, just, just lay back”
He’s moving around, glancing at his surroundings till his eyes fall to your form, your clothes stained with his blood as your gentle hands press on his abdomen.
“I’ll be quick”
He stares at you, then nods slowly.
“Okay”
Your hands make quick work of putting in a few stitches, noticing that he barely winces from the pain and wiping away any excess dirt or blood from the cut.
“Are- are there any more cuts?” Your eyes scan over his form,
“I don’t know”
You nod, “Can I check”
You wait for his permission, he undoes his vest allowing you further access to his chest, you push his shirt up further, his form is littered with scars, some old and white, some new and pink.
“It doesn’t look like there’s any more on your chest” You let out a sigh of relief
He blinks slowly,
“But um, you lost a lot of blood and I don’t have any antibiotics, I can call for some help”
“No, no cops”
“What about doctors”
“No, no one can know I’m here”
“Are you in danger?”
He huffs a laugh, he’s drenched in blood and wearing a skull and you think he’s in danger.
“I’ll be fine, I have to go” He tries to stand up but stumbles, your hands moving to try and hold him up as your palms dig into his flesh.
“You can’t walk”
“I can manage”
“Please just, you can rest here” You look up at him with worry in your eyes
He looks to you
“I live alone, there’s really not much for miles around, no one will find you”
“You really shouldn’t tell those things to a stranger”
“If you wanted to hurt me you would’ve” You huff a small laugh, eyes staring up at him, “Just rest a little”
He glances around the space, it’s cozy, feminine but cozy, lots of blankets and small lights.
“Do you have tea?”
A small smile forms on your lips, “I do”
You help him to the bathroom so he can rinse off, leaving the door open a crack in case he needs help with anything before you go to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and grabbing two mugs. You hear the shower turn off a few minutes later, turning your attention to the doorway and your throat dries. He’s stood arm braced against the frame, his skin glowing with droplets of water, his modesty only covered by a small towel.
“Any chance you have clothes I can borrow?”
You’re staring at him,
“Oi”
You blink your eyes at him, pulling back from your thoughts, “Yeah sorry, um, I’ll grab them” You run into your bedroom, rummaging through your drawers for anything that would fit him.
“Here these are my boyfriends, he’s smaller than you but they should fit” You hand him a pile of clothes,
“Boyfriend? I thought you lived alone”
“Ex boyfriend” You stutter, “Just never came back for his stuff”
“His loss”
You laugh lightly, allowing him the space to move back into the washroom to change, you lean against the wall,
“So what’s your name?”
He hesitates for a moment,
“Simon”
You whisper the name to yourself, the letters dancing on your tongue as he steps out,
“Not bad” You say glancing over his now clothed form
“Yeah, cheers”
You smile, moving to the kitchen to hand him a mug of tea,
“You’re very kind, I won’t be here long”
“It’s alright, company’s nice”
“Pretty good with stitches, you get a lot of bloody men on your doorstep?”
You laugh, “No just, know how to sew I guess”
Simon nods, sipping his tea, not waiting for it to cool,
“Any chance you can tell me how you stumbled to my door?”
“Um, got lost”
“Ah I see, lost” You make air quotes with your fingers,
He sets down his mug, “Lucky is more like”
“Lucky?”
“Could’ve accidentally stumbled somewhere worse”
“And by worse you mean..” You squint your eyes, he tilts his head slightly staring back at you, “You’re very secretive Simon, has anyone ever told you that”
“Never”
You smile at his words, fighting back a small laugh as you continue to drink your tea, paying attention to the way he squirms in his seat when he hurts his wound.
“You can stay here if you need, really”
“I don’t mean to put you out”
“It’s fine, get your bearings and you can head out whenever your assassin group needs you”
“Assassin group?” He’s amused by your assumption,
“Just, trying to figure you out, hoping I was close”
“Close enough”
“And on that note, the couch is all yours” You stand from your seat, placing your mug in the sink before moving to leave the kitchen, “You know where the bathroom is, everything else is pretty easy to find so, I’m just behind those doors” You point toward the sliding door of your bedroom.
“Thank you, I’ll be out by morning”
“Right” You nod, turning back to him quickly, “If you find a small cat, that’s Goliath, don’t mind him”
“You named your cat Goliath?”
You furrow your brows, “Thought it was funny, goodnight Simon” You nod to him and walk towards your room, sliding the door shut before getting ready for bed.
Ghost makes his way toward the couch, keeping an ear out for any noises outside the house, still nervous he could've been followed, he feels strangely safe within the walls of your cottage, he knows he shouldn't. He doesn't know you, you don't know him, and yet you helped him, gave him shelter and stitched his wounds, he'd never known such a simple kindness before, always seeing the worst in people but you were different, like a glowing ray of sun in his dark mind.
It doesn't take him long to fall asleep, another anomaly considering it usually took him hours of tossing and turning to finally sleep, eventually he'd blame it on his injury and the fact that the couch was insanely comfortable compared to his issued cot.
He woke in a full panic the next morning, darting his gaze around his surroundings, remembering where he was and who he was with, it took him a moment to settle his heartbeat as a clatter came from the kitchen, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, knowing he was relatively safe.
You peak your head around the corner, cringing at the amount of noise you were making, "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you"
"S'alright, should've been up hours ago anyway"
"You hungry?"
"No, I should be going anyway" The smell from the kitchen wafts through the living room, grabbing his attention
"You sure? I made too much anyway"
He winces as he pushes himself from the couch, "Why not"
Your smile lights up your face making Ghost pull his gaze from you nervously, his eyes moving toward the floor as he makes his way toward you.
"Sit"
He obeys your command, watching you point toward a chair with a spatula in your hand, chuckling to himself at the sight of you, apron-clad some flour swiped across the front.
"Do you want syrup?"
"Please" Truth be told the man had a major sweet tooth, most people would assume he drank black coffee and ate bitter chocolate but in reality he loved sugar more than anything, always giving into his urges.
You place a plate of pancakes in front of him,
"Wait" You stop him from eating for a second, leaning forward to draw a small smiley face on top with whipped cream, giggling as he tilts his head at you.
"Thanks" He waits for a few moments, giving you time to sit down with your own plate before picking up his fork, he holds the utensil in his hand, staring down at the food.
"You aren't hungry?"
"I am, it's just, my mum used to make pancakes like this" His tone is light as he leans back in his chair slightly, thinking about his family.
"She sounds nice"
"She was"
Your smile drops, "Oh, I'm sorry"
"For what?"
"You said was"
He didn't even realize, so used to internally recalling memories to choose his words differently, shaking his head lightly at you, "Thank you". You can't see his face behind his balaclava, but his gaze softens letting you know he took no offence to your statement, giving him a tight-lipped smile before digging into your food.
You finish a few pancakes before sanding from the table, Ghost's eyes watching as you move around the kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out a small bowl, filling it with food, shaking the dish to catch the attention of your cat.
"He comes and goes, usually he's back for breakfast, I swear he'd do anything for some food" You joke, sitting back down in front of him, "Any progress on your ear thing?"
Ghost swallows his food, shaking his head towards you, "Unfortunately no, I need to replace one of the pieces to get it to work, not sure where I'll find one"
"There's a bunch of tech stuff in one of the drawers in the other room, I don't know what any of it does but you're welcome to look through"
"That could help, thanks"
You reach for his empty plate but his hand pushes yours away, your fingers tensing at the contact, "I'll clean, least I could do", he stands from the table, collecting the dishes and placing them in the sink. You blush slightly at the gesture, tapping your fingers against the table a few times before standing.
"I have some chores to do but I'd like to check your stitches after"
"I'm sure they're fine"
You sigh lightly, leaning against the counter next to him as he rolls his sleeves up, your eyes drifting toward the ink on his forearm as the muscles tense, "Just, let me check them" You look up at him through your lashes and his mind blanks for a moment, lost in your eyes, the way you look at him like he's a person, not a monster, completely unfazed by his outward appearance.
He says nothing, just nods lightly, turning back to the task at hand, you smile to yourself at your small victory,
"I'll just be outside, don't burn anything down"
"I'll do my best" He watches you breeze through the front door, huffing a deep breath once you closed the door, suddenly aware of his surroundings and what he was doing, washing dishes in a stranger's cottage, he looked so out of place in the house, everything was soft and warm while he was dark and rigid.
He watches you through the window, you float around the property moving around the small garden outside, tucking your hair behind your ear as you kneel beside a bush of vegetables, carefully picking them one by one, tossing them into a small basket and continuing.
"Shit" He tugs his hands from the sink, the now scolding water burning him, he must've zoned out cause the steam from the sink was now filling the room, wiping his hands on a towel before turning the taps off, rubbing his skin slightly to soothe them. His attention is turned to the small black mass leaping onto the counter,
"You must be Goliath"
The cat just stares back at him with its large eyes, meowing loudly at the sight of the stranger, Ghost presses his hand to his chest, "I'm Simon"
Goliath meows, moving toward his bowl of food, leaning down to eat.
"He won't bite"
Ghost turns his head toward the front door, you're leaning against the frame, a basket of produce on your hip, "You can pet him, he won't bite"
"I'm not really an animal person"
"I don't believe that"
"Why not"
"Just doesn't seem true" You place your basket on the table, moving towards Goliath, stroking his fur lightly as he purrs, "He loves it, go ahead" You step back, urging Simon to pet him.
He raises an apprehensive hand, lightly tracing his fingers down the case back,
"You can use a little more pressure"
He looks to you, "I don't want to hurt him"
You smile, "You won't"
Simon flattens his hand, running his palm over Goliath, smiling slightly when the cat purrs in response to his touch,
"He likes you"
"How can you tell"
"He bites people he doesn't" You bite your lower lip to conceal your laughter, Simon's eyes widen as they look at you, pulling his hand back from the cat as you giggle.
"You're lying"
"Guess we'll never know" You nudge your head toward the living room, urging him to follow. He sits on the couch, shuffling a little as you sit next to him, he can feel the heat from your skin, you're close enough that he can smell your shampoo,
"May I?"
He nods as your hands gently tug at the bottom of his shirt, he leans back to help you, your eyes scanning over his form,
"How's it look" His eyes watch you
"Good, not my best work but, you'll heal"
You turn to face him, your fingers still feather-light on his skin, "Can I ask a question?"
"You can, I might not answer it though"
"The scars"
"From my job"
"Do you get stabbed for a living?"
"Something like that" His hand covers yours, dwarfing them as he pulls his shirt back down, "Nothing to worry about"
"They look serious"
He cans esne the worry in your tone, changing his own to reassure you "I'm fine love"
You nod, staying quiet for a moment before realizing that his hands are still holding yours, you move to tug them away but he grips them, holding them close as his eyes linger on you. He scans your face for a second before releasing your hands, shifting his gaze away, suddenly nervous as his hands move into his pockets.
"The drawer is just there"
"Huh?"
"The um, the drawer with the tech stuff, it's just there" You point gently toward the stack of cabinets on the other side of the room, he nods in understanding, crossing the room to search. His fingers sift through the wires, pulling some out to inspect them, tossing others to the back, his eyes land on the exact one he needs, staring at the wire.
"Find anything that works?"
He thinks for a moment, his fingers tossing all the wires back into the drawer, "Not in here"
5K notes · View notes
lessbienlesbian · 23 days
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mizu x fem!reader nsfw a-z relationship headcanons
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i’m sorry this took so long for me to write, but i hope y’all enjoy!
a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
after both you and mizu have reached your peak, she is honestly quite clingy, although she would never admit this to anyone else. she would hold you protectively and press gentle kisses to your forehead and hairline, all while whispering about how well you did and asking if she can get you anything.
b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
mizu loves her hands. she loves what they look like, how they feel, and most importantly what she can do with them. she is proud of the calluses that cover them and she is proud of the skill and nimbleness with which she can use her sword and make you come undone. her favorite part of your body is your eyes, more specifically the fact that she can look into them and see so clearly that your intentions and love for her are genuine.
c = cum (anything to do with cum)
mizu loves to eat you out. she genuinely thinks that you taste so good, and will bury her face in your pussy until your juices are dripping down her chin as she looks up at you with that stupid adorable cocky smirk. sometimes she will even hold a glistening finger up to the light for you to see.
“look at this baby, is this all for me?”
“god, you smell so good. stay still sweetheart, let me taste you.”
d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory)
honestly, mizu’s dirty secret is just how horny and absolutely whipped she is for you. she’s got it so bad and she would do absolutely anything for you. i know that’s not really dirty per say, but she’s pretty open about most other things.
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
mizu is not very experienced at all. her only partner before you was mikio, and the sex she had with him was pleasing to her but not particularly outstanding. it also didn’t involve much action or movement on her part, so she would have a lot to learn when first being intimate with you. however, mizu is a very quick and eager learner. it is almost frustrating how naturally good she is at knowing how to touch you in just the right way.
f = favorite position 
mizu is a fan of any position where she gets to be as close to you as possible. she really values the closeness and physical intimacy that goes along with having sex. bonus points if she can easily hide her face because she gets hella shy. 
g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
mizu can actually be pretty lighthearted in the moment. i wouldn’t go as far as calling her humorous, but the playful and teasing side to her personality is definitely present. she also enjoys a playful “fight” for dominance at times, she just can’t help it with her competitive nature. 
h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
mizu has very dark brown pubic hair that matches the hair on her head. she has a full bush and doesn’t do anything along the lines of hair removal.
i = intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment)
oh dear god mizu is so romantic. she’ll hold your hand while you fuck her, make eye contact for as long as she can, and whisper sweet nothings and intimate confessions into your ear. like by day mizu is slicing people up on the hunt to kill her potential father, and by night she’s blushing and trying to hide her face while you gently kiss her cute little pink nose. like damn, get you a girl that can do both.
j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
it is my personal opinion that mizu does not masturbate outside of a brief period of self discovery as an adolescent and then maybe after getting together with you if the two of you are separated for a lengthy period for whatever reason.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks)
i am a firm believer that mizu is very into praise, both when it comes to you and her. she LOVES to be told that she’s doing a good job and that she’s pretty because let’s face it, this girl does not hear that kinda shit very often (or at all). god she’s just so cute, shyly hiding her face in your shoulder so you can’t see how much she is blushing, biting her lip to silence the small whimpers she’s letting out, tentatively reaching over to interlace her fingers with yours. and those shy little “shut ups” mumbled in your ear are just the icing on the cake.
l = location (favorite places to do the deed)
mizu doesn’t really have a preferred location. as long as the two of you are safe and not in the view of other people, she’s good to go. 
m = motivation (what turns them on)
she gets very turned on when/if the two of you spar together. the combination of competition, physical closeness, and playfulness just does it for her.
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
i’ll just list some off. blood, bondage (her receiving), intense degradation, exhibitionism, cnc, threesomes, intense humiliation, and breeding kink (i’ll explain this one at the end of this section). basically, she is pretty opposed to anything that makes her feel unsafe or like she doesn’t have control over what’s happening to her. that is not to say that she would be unwilling to submit if she really trusted you, she just greatly fears being taken advantage of. okay now to explain the breeding kink. i know this may be an unpopular opinion and while i do think our girl has MAD strap game, i do not think she would be into the idea of breeding. at her core, mizu feels resentment towards those who conceived her because of her hatred for and the stigma towards being mixed race. it is because of this that i believe that anything suggesting the idea of creating more people like her (even if it couldn’t actually happen) would be a major mood killer.
o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
mizu can be a bit sloppy when she eats you out, but she definitely prefers to give. her lack of experience combined with her tendency to just get fully pussy drunk leads to her eagerly lapping up your cum for as long as you’ll let her.
“mizu please” you groan with your hands tangled in her hair. “my clit, i need you on my clit”
p = pace
the pace at which you have sex with mizu really depends on how much time you have on your hands. she prefers to take her time with you, spending as long as possible worshipping every inch of your body. if mizu is feeling frustrated or stressed, her pace becomes more frantic and desperate as she seeks her and your release.
q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
if necessary, mizu will have a quickie with you, but she much prefers proper sex. realistically though, quickies are often all that there is time/proper security for, so she makes the best of the circumstances.
r = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
honestly, after everything that she has been through, mizu is not a risk taker when it comes to her sex life. she would be pretty vanilla when it comes to physical safety.
s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)
when mizu is on top she can go for a very long time. she takes pride in how good she can make you feel; teasing you, edging you, and making you cum over and over until you’re a quivering mess beneath her. however, she is a different story entirely. despite her incredible physical strength and stamina, mizu is so incredibly sensitive and it does not take very much stimulation or very long for her to cum.
t = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
mizu does not own any toys when you first meet her, as pleasure was not necessarily a priority. however, if you suggest it to her, she would DEFINITELY be open to using a harigata (dildo/strap on) and maybe even a tagaigata (double sided dildo). wearing a strap would boost her confidence an insane amount, and she’d take great pride in how well she can fuck you.
u = unfair (how much they like to tease)
mizu loves to tease you but is not a fan of being teased. she relishes in the way that you squirm beneath her and beg for more as that cocky little grin spreads over her smug face. but when it comes to her pleasure, as much as she is embarrassed to admit it, mizu is quite desperate and impatient.
v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)
as evidenced by that one scene with mikio, mizu is actually pretty loud. her voice is high, feminine, and desperate. when she is trying her best to be quiet, she will express her pleasure through whimpers, gasps, and soft whispers. when volume is not a concern, the room will be flooded with loud moans and cries.
w = wild card (a random headcanon)
i think that mizu has incredibly sensitive nipples and if she let you touch them for long enough, she could cum from nipple stimulation alone. the first time this happens she is absolutely mortified, but you reassure her that it is perfectly alright.
“w-wait, y/n!” mizu whimpers, her back arching in desperation. her slender body writhes under your unrelenting touch, small gasps leaving her lips as you tug on her aching nipples.
x = x-ray
mizu is slender, toned, and lean. she is incredibly muscular and slim because of the intensity with which she trains and she is about 5’6 or 5’7. she has firm a-cup breasts with average sized pink nipples, but they are typically hidden under the fabric she uses to bind her chest. her pussy is an innie, and unless her legs are fully spread, you can only see her outer lips. when she opens herself up to you, her small clit is hidden beneath its dusky pink hood. her glistening hole is tight and small, and much to her chagrin, clenches and flutters desperately at even the slightest bit of stimulation. the poor girl is just so sensitive and needy.
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
as much as she hates to admit it, mizu has a very high sex drive. she gets turned on super easily, especially when it comes to anything involving you. you could literally brush your fingertips against her hip and she would become a flustered mess.
z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
mizu can fall asleep pretty quickly, but she prefers to stay awake until you are asleep. if you catch onto this habit and decide to question her about it, she will deny it. watching over you to make sure that your sleep is restful and you are under her protection for as long as possible doesn’t exactly fit her image in the beginning. then, by the time you’ve gotten to see her softer side, she will deny it more for your sake. she doesn’t want you to know how much she worries about you for fear of teasing, being a smothering presence, and being admonished for sacrificing her own basic needs to make sure that yours are met. as much as mizu fronts as a combative, snarky, and abrasive person, she is also deathly afraid of conflict and abandonment with/from those she truly loves and cares about. that is to say, she wouldn’t want to get into an argument with you about how she needs to take care of herself better. she prefers to close her eyes and just listen to your breathing as it slowly evens out, leaving you unaware of her ploy. unbeknownst to her, you are aware of this “secret” scheme, and you let her get away with it. after all, it’s just another way that she tells you that she loves you, without expecting anything in return.
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navybrat817 · 1 month
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Like There's No Tomorrow
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: When you make a rash decision after you're passed over for a promotion again, Bucky encourages you to follow your dream. It's the start of an unforgettable journey. Word Count: Over 3.4k Warnings: Insecurities, impulsivity, reflecting, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best, okay?). A/N: Writing this was very personal and therapeutic after my recent work experience. While I can't actually live this life, I know Firecracker and Daredevil will have many adventures together. Also for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love Challenge (Ludus - Road Trip / Surprise)❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for the encouragement and @buckyownsmylife for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You quit your job on a Friday afternoon.
On paper, it appeared to be an ordinary day. Nothing different from your usual routine. You got up, brushed your teeth, showered, dressed yourself, gave your boyfriend a kiss, selected a caffeinated beverage, and got to work. While you wouldn't call your job your dream job and some of the tasks were monotonous, you were good at it and you cared about your teammates.
In fact, they were one of the reasons you stuck around for as long as you did.
“Just wanted to say you've done a lot for us and we wouldn't be where we are without you.”
“I’m so sorry. I hope this doesn’t get you down.”
“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.”
“For what it’s worth, they made a mistake.”
Tears filled your eyes as you looked through the messages a few of your teammates sent after the promotion announcement was made minutes ago. There was an overall mixture of surprise and confusion when they heard you didn’t get it. They knew how hard you worked to move up and how badly you wanted it. You wished you hadn’t gotten your hopes up since that usually led to disappointment.
Of course, you were happy for the candidate who got the job. It wasn’t their fault you didn’t advance. Their success called for celebration. It didn’t make it any easier for you though and it didn’t lessen the hurt that you were passed over once again for something you were more than qualified for.
You somehow held it together though, not wanting everyone around you to see you break. Crying was reserved for the bathroom, your car, and home. Plus, you had shown enough vulnerability to management during the lengthy process and aftermath. They didn’t deserve an ounce more.
Especially after you were told that the value you provided wasn’t enough.
“I know this outcome is disappointing, but this isn’t a setback. You still have a lot to be proud of,” your manager told you the day before when you received the email entailing that you didn't receive the promotion and why. “Take the feedback we’ve given you and use that to get to the next level next time.”
He was only trying to help, but who would want to try again when they’re told they aren’t enough more than once? If the intention was to fuel your fire, they snuffed it out. Then again, your feelings were so raw because you hadn’t given yourself enough time to digest the news. Being told you were just out of reach was salt in the open wound, stinging much more than it should have as you tried to figure out what you did wrong.
Because you had to have done something wrong, right? Were the words you wrote in your application not eloquent enough? Did you not display the right amount of confidence in your interview? Why were you always on the cusp of greatness, but never quite there?
Blinking the moisture from your eyes, you straightened up and began to type again. Personal feelings aside, you had a job to do. You needed the income. You also had to prove that they were wrong in overlooking you. Again.
But as the sound of your fingers flying across the keyboard became white noise in your head, Bucky’s words from earlier in the morning shimmered into your mind.
“Just quit, Firecracker. They don’t deserve you and you deserve better.”
Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend. The kind of man you didn’t think was real until he came into your life. Gorgeous, faithful, doting, protective - you thought men like that only existed in books. He supported and hyped you up every time you went for a promotion and wiped away every tear when you didn’t get it. Your crying and self-doubt broke his heart and this morning may have been the last straw for him.
Maybe it was the last straw for you, too.
Glancing around the office as you saw everyone else typing with minimal conversation, the room had never looked more lifeless to you. There was nothing about the place or the job that inspired you, so why continue to give yourself over to a place that didn’t give back to you in return? Why stay in a place that dulled your shine?
The sudden realization hit you square in your chest that you didn’t want to be there anymore.
“Have a great weekend, team. Good luck and thanks for everything.” You sent in a message before you could stop yourself.
You had never had an out-of-body experience before, but it was as if your spirit was beside you as you began to close the programs on your computer. Glancing at your desk after you set your phone to voicemail, you realized you had hardly any personal touches in your space. Except for the photo of you and Bucky.
He was your one bright spot in the building.
With the utmost care, you put the photo in your bag once you shut everything down. Your heart sank as your gaze swept over your team, an uncomfortable pit settling in your stomach as you went to see your boss. Disappointing anyone always brought you a sense of dread and you didn’t want to let him or anyone else down, but you were thinking of yourself for once.
You owed yourself that.
“Hey,” your boss smiled as he glanced up from his desk before he noticed you had your bag. You shifted on your feet when his cheerfulness shifted to concern. “What’s up? Are you clocking out early?”
“Not exactly,” you answered, gripping your bag so hard your hand began to ache.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.
You didn’t know how to respond because it wasn’t okay and nothing he could say or do would change how you felt. You didn't want him to try and sway you to stay. The heartbreaking part was that he was, overall, a good boss. He taught you a lot and helped you better yourself. So did the team as a whole. They were rock stars. Each and every one of them.
But now they weren’t enough to make you stay and maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you didn’t go anywhere with your job.
So with a bittersweet smile, you uttered, “I quit. I’m sorry.”
You tossed your building key onto his desk and turned away before he could reply. Your mind raced as you put one foot in front of the other and ignored the stares of your coworkers who caught on to what had just transpired. It was hard to breathe, but your steps for once felt light instead of heavy. Your boss may have called out for you, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when you couldn’t stay in there another minute.
What you didn’t expect was for Bucky to be waiting outside as you went out of the door.
Your boyfriend managed to take your breath away every time you saw him and today was no exception. All 6’4” of him, he decided to cover his beefy frame with one of his favorite leather jackets, a fitting shirt, and tight jeans. His stormy eyes zeroed in on you as he pushed away from his old pickup truck and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. He was stunning.
He was yours.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” you blurted out as you raced toward him. “Get me out of here. Please.”
But why was he there? You didn’t plan to meet up with him until after work and your shift was only a little over halfway over. Did he want to surprise you?
He caught you easily with his large hands before you could stumble into him. “Whoa, easy. Get in,” he said, opening the passenger door and helping you in. Your hands trembled as you buckled yourself in, your body in flight mode because you had to get away from the office. He wasted no time getting in and peeling out of the parking lot, the building becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.
You weren’t even sure how far away he drove before he pulled over and stopped the car since you didn’t look behind you. Resting your shaking hands on your thighs, the high of walking out dissipated until it left you cold. Reality sank in. Would it pull you under?
“Talk to me,” Bucky urged, his voice calm and gentle instead of demanding. “Please?”
“I quit my job,” you whispered, your gaze set in front of you, but not seeing anything in focus. “I couldn't do it anymore.”
Bucky leaned over to turn your face toward him, sympathy and understanding filling his eyes. “Oh, baby, I knew today would be the tipping point. Waited most of the morning for you to walk out,” he said. You were about to question how he could possibly know that, but he could read you better than anyone. “Just a feeling I had.”
“I quit my job. I quit,” you said again, your breathing more shallow than before he engulfed you in a warm and grounding embrace. Your fingers twisted in his jacket as you breathed him in. Sandalwood and citrus were scents you now associated with love because of him. “What did I do?! I didn’t even give notice. I just tossed my card down and left. Fuck, I just burned my bridges with everyone there.”
You stifled a sob as you hid your face in his neck. You swore to yourself that you would never be that person who walks out on a job, but you did just that and screwed over your entire team. Would any of them understand why you did it or accept an apology? How long would it take for that guilt to go away since you essentially gave up after the words of kindness and encouragement they gave you?
“Breathe, baby. I’ve got you” he whispered, rubbing your back as you steadied yourself. “Yeah, you quit today. And maybe you burned a bridge, maybe not. But I couldn’t be fucking prouder of you.”
“You’re proud that I walked out on my team?” You asked, whipping your head up so fast you were lucky you didn’t get whiplash. “They don’t deserve to deal with that. Not to mention, I have nothing lined up.”
The thought of starting over again made your stomach drop again. The job market could be a terrifying and hopeless place. What if you couldn’t find anything? Or what if you burned through your savings by the time you did?
“I’m proud that you walked away from something keeping you down. After everything you’ve done for them, I’m sure most of them will get why you couldn’t do it anymore,” he assured you, the corners of his lips turning down when you sniffled. “And don't worry about not having something lined up. We'll figure it out.”
“We?” You questioned. Bucky was your boyfriend, but this wasn’t his problem.
“Yeah, we,” he said, pointing between the two of you with his forefinger. “You and me. I'm in this with you.”
Your heart melted before logic tried to take back over. “I should just go back there and apologize. I can say that I-”
He framed your face and pressed his warm lips to yours before you could say another word. He coaxed you to return the kiss with ease and you responded with parted lips and a sigh. His kisses left you lightheaded as sparks ignited, threatening to explode if you went much further. Which was why he stopped to let you catch your breath.
“No. You’re not doing that,” he said, his scruff tickling your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He knew that was a weakness of yours and it instantly stopped you from arguing. “We're going on an adventure and we can’t do that if you’re chained to a desk.”
“An adventure?” You repeated with uncertainty.
“Yeah. We’re going to drive and see where it takes us,” he said, his lips touching your forehead once more before he started up the car again. “Just need to grab a couple of things before we go.”
“What about work for you?”
“It’s taken care of,” he assured you. He wasn’t the type of guy to lie, but when did he have time to plan this? Neither one of you had mentioned going anywhere.
Leave it to Bucky to do something impulsive to make you happy.
“Okay,” you said, trusting him and deciding to play along with his endeavor. “You said we need a couple of things. What do we need? Besides the essentials.”
“Your laptop. And a journal if you don't feel like typing.”
You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. My laptop so I can apply for new jobs and pray that they don’t reach out to my now previous boss as a reference, right?”
“Oh, no,” he chuckled, a playful smirk on his face when you swung your head toward him. “The laptop is so you can write like you've always wanted to. And the journal if you prefer to write some of your thoughts and ideas down by hand.”
“Wait. You want me to write on this trip?” You asked, making sure you heard him correctly.
“Yeah, I do.”
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your boyfriend was certifiably crazy, but you loved that about him. “Bucky, no. I can't just write,” you said.
“Why not?” He shrugged.
“Because it doesn't pay the bills or provide security,” you replied.
Writing was a silly hobby that you did from time to time to help you channel your emotions or escape from the real world. At best, it was a dream. Nothing more. He knew that. At least, you thought he knew that.
At the end of the day, it wouldn’t put a roof over your head or food in your stomach. How were you expected to hold onto dreams that wouldn’t take you anywhere? And at what point did you stop believing in them and yourself?
When did you start thinking so cynically?
“But working a job you're not passionate about just to provide safety is the better option? There’s a difference between doing something you love and doing something you’re good at when your heart isn’t in it. You’ve done the latter for years now,” He said with a huff as you inhaled. “That isn't living and you’re lying to yourself if you think it is.”
Your eyes narrowed as his words sank in, your shackles raising. “No, it isn’t living, but it’s the most practical thing I can do! And, yeah, I am good at my job because I worked my ass off!” You argued, taking a breath. You didn’t want to start crying or snap at him when he was right. “Or at least I was good at my job. And I would’ve done my best had I advanced, but I couldn’t even accomplish that.”
Which begged the question of why you applied. The higher title and pay would’ve been nice for recognition and comfortability. You believed you earned it. But was it what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Was that your path when you looked toward your future?
You hadn’t taken into account your own desires and values.
“Hey,” he said softer than before. “I wasn’t trying to-”
“And say I do try and write for real. How can I even enjoy this adventure knowing I'm probably just going to fail again?” You asked in a small voice.
How many hits could you take before your armor cracked?
Bucky's jaw clenched. “And that's exactly why I'm glad you finally quit. You've had so many people over your head telling you that what you do isn't enough to achieve what you want. And now you believe it,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough that you feared he’d bend it with his strength. “Fuck that and fuck them for making you feel that way.”
Your mouth fell open as you stared, his fury for and defense of you making your chest tighten. “I…”
“Why can’t you be a writer, huh? Why not try? You’re talented and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. That’s where your heart is and it shows with every word,” He pressed, knowing you put your whole self into your creative outlet. “And, listen, we have money set aside for the time being and more than enough for this excursion. So I don’t care if writing doesn’t pay the bills for a while as long as you’re happy and doing what you’re passionate about. We’ll have each other and that’s enough in my eyes.”
Contemplating his words, you had to give him credit. The job wasn’t something you did because you were passionate about it. You did it because it was safe and expected of you when in many ways it held you back. Besides, what did you have to lose at this point? If you didn’t try, you’d never know. You’d look back one day and regret it if you let the chance pass you by.
Why not do something impulsive?
Why not make the most out of the moment you were in?
“Okay. You’re right. I should try to write and we should go,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Let’s grab a few things and see where this trip takes us.”
“There she is,” he smiled over at you, making your heart swell. “There’s my Firecracker.”
The nickname would always warm your heart. “You know, this actually sounds a bit like that book idea I had the other day,” you said, excitement seeping through your veins. Your fingers twitched a bit, too, with the urge to write. “Do you remember? I told you about it while we were eating pizza.”
Bucky took one hand from the steering wheel to grab yours. “I remember everything you've ever said.”
“Flattery will get you everything, Daredevil,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “So, we're really doing this. We're just leaving?”
“Not just leaving. We're taking a long overdue road trip," he says, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “You deserve it.”
“We both do,” you said, the uncertainty leaving your body more with each passing second. You even turned off your phone so you wouldn’t be tempted to look at any emails or messages. “We deserve to live today like there’s no tomorrow.”
“‘Like there’s no tomorrow’,” Bucky quoted back to you with a hum. “Sounds like a good book title.’
“I’ll have to write it down so I don’t forget,” you smiled, linking your fingers together. “And don’t forget your journal, too. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”
“I won’t forget it,” he promised.
“Bucky?” You asked, swallowing as he gazed over at you. “Thank you. Really.”
It felt like you could breathe again without a weight in your chest. You didn't feel perfect, but you felt good. All thanks to him. You didn’t know what you’d do without him.
“You don’t need to thank me, baby, but I should thank you for letting me take you away,” he winked, keeping your hand in his as he faced forward again. “Makes me feel like a real hero, even though you wouldn't let me storm the castle.”
Oh, he wanted so badly to go off on your manager, but there was no need. “You are a hero,” you said. He saved you without knowing. “But try not to speed, Daredevil. I don’t want us to get pulled over before we get started.”
He groaned, but nodded as he let off the gas. “I’ll try not to speed. Need to make sure I get you to where we’re going safely.”
“I trust you.”
You would find out soon enough that Bucky had a list of things written in his journal that he planned to do with you on this trip. Everything you had ever said in passing that you wanted to do or try, but never could because of work. Because he paid attention to you. And you were right.
You deserved to live today like there’s no tomorrow.
And he wanted to be by your side while you lived your best life.
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So, lovelies, where are they doing on their trip first? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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andivmg · 1 month
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speak up andi, I beg of you, you have been mistreated the most here, I know it took shubble a lot of courage but she has helped so many people
i want to start this off by saying it is not a competition and i do not want to compare my experience to anybody else’s. shubble is so fucking strong and i admire her and everyone else who has spoken up about experiencing abuse endlessly.
DISCLAIMER 1
this is way longer than i intended it to be. i did not plan to go into as much depth as i did but the words just kinda kept coming and i kept thinking that if someone else is in a similar situation to the one i was in, it would be good to point out even some of the smaller details so that they can see that these behaviors are not something to be overlooked and could be a symptom of a bigger issue… idk. i apologize for how lengthy and wordy this is but i hope it all makes sense somehow
DISCLAIMER 2
a lot of you know who one of my exes is and i am asking you to please not make this about him. i am simply sharing my experience with some of my past relationships in hopes that they help someone else. i beg of you, do not go on twitter making threads speculating on whatever because it’s just going to cause me a bunch of problems and i don’t want this to be brought to his attention. if you share my story, please do not do it with the intent of starting drama. if you share my story, focus on the behaviors i am talking about instead of trying to figure out if it’s about him.
DISCLAIMER 3
this goes without saying but i’ll put it here anyway: i will be talking about toxic relationships, mention of self harm, mention of sex, implied violence. if any of these topics are triggering to you please scroll away, protect yourself.
I have been in a lot of relationships, but there are 4 that i would truly identify as the ones who had the biggest impact on me. Two of those i would consider emotional mistreatment. I don’t want to say i was abused for reasons that i will be discussing with my therapist this week, but i can certainly say i was mistreated. For the sake of privacy, i will be referring to these two dudes as 1 and 6.
I think the biggest difference between 1 and 6 is that 6 was obsessed with me to the point where i felt like i was being suffocated, whereas i’m not sure if 1 ever cared about me in the first place.
6 and i started out pretty normally. we had a bunch of friends in common and we were around the same people. so eventually, we became friends too. we would text and call all the time until feelings developed into a relationship. in the beginning he was really sweet and caring, saying all the right things that got me falling head over heels. now, something important to note is that i am someone who has always had a lot of guy friends. when i was little and in school, my mom made friends with a bunch of other moms and those moms were boy moms, so i grew up surrounded by boys. i bring this up because 6 didn’t like my guy friends. actually, i think he just didn’t like the fact that i had guy friends at all. so, whenever i would hang out with my friends, it was a problem. so this resulted in me never being able to go out or hang out with my friends unless he was there. then it got worse. before we started dating he had decided to cut back on drinking and to stop smoking. so because of this, i decided that i wouldn’t drink or smoke around him in solidarity. this was not enough for him. i had to stop drinking and smoking altogether. so once, when i was hanging out with my girl friends we decided to stay in and get wine drunk. we posted about it on our private stories on snap and once he saw, 6 called me arguing and yelling at me because i was drinking and posting about it on my story for “attention”. after this incident, i was no longer allowed to hang out with my friends because they were a “bad influence”. he also didn’t like the clothes i wore. sorry, let me reiterate: he didn’t like my clothes when he wasn’t around. it was perfectly fine for me to wear a short dress… if i was with him. i was not allowed to wear “revealing” clothing if he wasn’t around. mind you, none of the clothes i wore were revealing, it’s not my fault i’m hot yk? he took over my life. who i talked to, what i did, what i wore, where i would go, it was all up to him. my life no longer belonged to me. and at the time, i was okay with that. i didn’t realize that he had so much control over everything. i was young and naïve and he convinced me that he knew what was best for me. that he had lived more than i had and experienced more than i had and that he knew better. he was so good at making everything my fault and making him the hero or victim depending on the situation. i got catcalled on the street? “because you were wearing that fucking dress again, andrea you know how that looks. of course you got catcalled. this is why you can’t wear things like that when i’m not around to protect you”. I decided to have a fun night in with my friends and get drunk? “i just don’t understand why you would be posting yourself on your private story like that. you’re drunk and vulnerable. why do you want other people, other guys, to see you like that? and you know i’ve cut back on drinking so how do you think it makes me feel to see that? don’t you love me enough to do this for me?” the worst part is i believed him. because, in the beginning, he helped me so much and i looked up to him so much, surely he had my best interests at heart, right? this relationship went on for way longer than it should have. you may be asking yourself, how did you leave? if you were so in love with him and entranced by him to the point where he consumed you, why did you leave? he raised his hand. that’s what got me to finally leave. a year after we broke up, i found out that he was drinking, smoking, and doing all kinds of shit he told me he wasn’t throughout our entire relationship. he was awful, and i’m really proud of myself for being strong enough to leave when i did. i’m also really grateful for my friends, who stuck out that whole train wreck with me. who i lashed out against in order to protect him and defend him. they stuck by me through it all and i don’t know where i would be without them so shoutout to them lmfao.
1 was a bit more complicated. it started out in a similar way. we had the same friends, hung out around the same people, so it was only a matter of time until we became friends too. we would call and text every day until feelings were developed. at least i developed feelings, i’m still not sure he did. i told him this and i don’t remember how the conversation went but basically we had decided that we were talking as more than friends now. enough time went by where i was ready for it to become a relationship and i communicated that to him. looking back, i think he felt pressured into the relationship by me and by our friends. anyway we started dating and everything was fine. we would hang out and talk all the time but i felt like he was bored or disinterested by me, so i would constantly beg for his attention. i became this needy clingy version of myself that i hated. it felt like when we would hang out, he was always distracted by something else. i basically felt invisible to him. that is, when i wasn’t hanging out with my guy friends. similarly to 6, 1 did not like my guy friends or the fact that i had guy friends in the first place. i had a guy best friend at the time who is one of the most amazing people i have ever met. let’s call him S. S and 1 were acquainted with each other, hung out in the same circles etc. but 1 still didn’t like him. sometimes, whenever 1 was busy doing whatever he did when he wasn’t with me, i would hang out with S, we would watch shows together and just talk. Some days, it felt like i talked to S more than my own boyfriend. this did not sit well with 1. he would ask “why the fuck are you always hanging out with him?” to which i would reply “maybe if you hung out with me more, i wouldn’t have so much free time to spend with him” (toxic ik but what can i say? i was feeling neglected). so you can see what problems this caused. eventually i cut S off. I stopped talking to him completely and i haven’t spoken to him since. Back to 1. even after cutting off my best friend, nothing really changed. He didn’t spend much time with me and whenever we would, i felt like he couldn’t wait to go off and do something else. this got exhausting. at that point i was begging him to love me, to pay attention to me, to care about me. this led to us breaking up. he broke up with me over text. it read, and i quote, “i think we aren’t meant for each other. i think you deserve someone that will treat you better than i do. I don’t think i’m in love with you and i tried to force myself to love you because i thought that’s what i wanted but i really don’t think it is. we started this relationship when i was just tired of being alone and i really just don’t think it is right anymore. i don’t think i am attracted to you. I am sorry, i really didn’t know how to end this and this probably isn’t the best way to do it but it’s time”. The relationship went on for another six months after this. granted, i should have had more self respect and never gotten back together with him but it is what it is. so after he told me that he didn’t love me and that he wasn’t attracted to me, we stayed “friends”. which basically meant that we did everything that a relationship involved. without actually being in a relationship. that is, until one of his friends hit me up. there was some flirtation going on but nothing serious. i was still in love with 1 but, at the time, i was in desperate need for attention and his buddy was there to provide it. when i told 1 about it he flipped out, called me all kinds of crazy and decided he was done with me. his friend and i talked about it and poked fun at the fact that he broke up with me but got mad at someone else paying attention to me. when 1 saw this (he ended up forcing me to show him the screenshots of the conversation) he was even more pissed and even more done with me. the next day he called me and we were basically back together again.
however, this time, i was meant to earn his affection. because i did something so unforgivable and atrocious, he was basically in the clear to treat me like shit. and he did. he would cancel plans to go hang out with his friends. he would only come over late at night, even when i had class the next day. i was basically at his mercy. we only hung out when he decided. we only spoke when he wanted to. i honestly can’t even recall us going on any date after that incident, save for one dinner. in short, i was not a priority to him. this, combined with some other stuff, really took at toll on my mental health. i entered a deep depression and began self-harming after being clean for 3 years. i sought out help and found a wonderful therapist who really helped me. but, 1 only saw this as one more problem. when we hung out he would complain that i was too sad. important note: because of that text he sent me i was incredibly insecure. so, little arguments would always end up escalating because i felt like he literally did not care about me and he would just keep making me feel like shit about being depressed. whenever we argued (which was very often) it would end in me locking myself in the bathroom, sobbing, nearly throwing up, while he was on his phone. i remember one specific argument started because he asked me if i would leave him for harry styles and i jokingly said yes (i am not and have never been attracted to harry styles). that argument escalated to the point where we almost broke up and he said to me “you should warn people before they fall in love with you that you are so mentally ill. because you’re always going to bring down the mental state of who you’re with”. he used my mental health against me like that a lot. whenever i would bring up something i wanted him to do or something that i didn’t like, he would call me needy, clingy, and say that he was trying his best but that i needed too much, that i was too much. all i wanted was reassurance. looking back, that’s all i ever asked for. whenever i would ask him if he loved me he would say “well i’m with you aren’t i?”. this is the same man who decided to go to vegas with his friends on my birthday after he promised he wouldn’t. this is the same man who said that he didn’t love me. the same one who said he wasn’t attracted to me. the same man who i would catch looking at other girl’s (some being his “friends”) provocative pictures on twitter. (this is definitely tmi so i’m just going to put a bunch of asterisks at the end of the tmi so you can skip there if you don’t want to read it) but there was a long period of time in our relationship where we had zero intimacy, and it wasn’t because of me. this fucked with my head a lot because i had this idea that because i was so emotional and needy that i could compensate physically. but when that stopped, my thoughts looked something like “the only thing i was useful for was sex and now he doesn’t even want that from me”.************whenever i remember this, a part of me thinks he might’ve been cheating on me during that time, but i have no proof so i guess we’ll never know. also during that time period, we were arguing over the same things over and over “it feels like you don’t love me” “but i’m hanging out with you” “that’s not the same as loving me” “you’re so fucking needy. and then you wonder why i don’t like coming over”. it was exhausting. we had the same friend group. and even our friends got so sick of us that they would tell me to break up with him. this went on for months until one day, on our one year anniversary, he told me that his plans for the day included playing video games. nothing else. that’s when i broke up with him. that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. i just couldn’t do it anymore.
we stayed friends afterwards in order to keep the peace within the friend group. after about a month, he told me he was going to do better. he said he was going to start going to the gym, and maybe even going to therapy, that he was going to eat better and live a better lifestyle for me. he said he was going to plan dates for us and treat me the way i deserved etc. very much vibes from that one euphoria scene. but i was done. maybe i didn’t communicate that well enough to him and that’s my fault. but i was really confused at the time and i didn’t know what i wanted. eventually we had a conversation and that’s when i told him that i was no longer interested in a relationship. i think i just didn’t believe him anymore. i didn’t believe that he would change for me or anyone else for that matter. through the entire relationship he was mean to me, he neglected me, belittled me, and overall made me feel like shit at worst and invisible at best. even when i would offer to plan things or suggest activities for us to do together, he would be disinterested the entire time or just cancel and make plans with his friends instead. and of course it was all my fault for one, flirting with his friend that one time, and two, just not being interesting enough. he made it feel like i wasn’t good enough, and at the same time victimized himself. he would tell me “nothing i do is ever good enough for you” while i was the one putting in all the effort in the relationship. then he would go “well why would i put in effort with you? remember when you were flirting with [redacted]? I still think about that and it fucks me up”. mind you, he would only bring this up whenever i brought up any concerns or issues. anyway, as you can tell it took me a really long time to realize that this relationship was toxic and unhealthy and i’m really proud of myself, again, for having the strength to leave and never look back. i think one of the reasons why it took me so long to realize that i was being mistreated was because everyone around him loved him. and to me it was hard to see how someone that was so well liked could be bad. so i felt like i was the problem. i felt like there was something wrong with me and if i just fixed that, then he would treat me better and love me and care about me. it took a lot of therapy to realize that he just wasn’t that into me. i was like a toy to him that he could just pay attention to when he was bored but ignore me the rest of the time. but then, when someone else showed interest in me he would suddenly care and be like “no she’s mine, you can’t have her”. he didn’t want me but he didn’t want anyone else to have me and that was the bottom line. that was the base off all the problems and toxicity that happened while we were together.
in conclusion, both of these men were awful in their own unique ways. i hope that by sharing this, someone who is in a similar situation will see it and identify these behaviors as something to watch out for. i hope that someone will see it and realize that they are not alone, and that they are not the first person to go through it, and that it gets better. these events all happened over two years ago and now i am in a beautiful and healthy relationship, i’m studying something that i am passionate about, and i am surrounded by people who love, care about, and support me. i am in a much happier place now and you will find that too, whoever you might be <3
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tripleyeeet · 4 months
Text
MY LOVE IS MINE, ALL MINE (15)
SUMMARY: Astarion insists that you rest.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 2,987
WARNINGS: Brief mentions of death and dissociation, a whole lot of fluff and comfort as an apology for all the angsty chapters. :^)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ha-ha, hey do people still care about this fic? (Sorry I went MIA, my brain got bad)
CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST
-
It feels odd having Astarion around.
For days, his hands are almost always attached to you in some way. Gripping tightly onto your arm as he guides you out of the bed, drawing patterns into your back each night he quietly lays next to you —anything to make you feel like he’s some sort of extension of you. As if he’s another set of limbs there to help you heal. 
It’s nice, at first. Comforting. And for a while, as you exhaustively lay amongst the sheets and pillows, tucked against the side of his torso, it helps you forget about the world around you. How just beyond this realm of soft looks and tender touches, there’s a war raging on, developing day by day as you tirelessly drift from bed to bath and back again, trying your best not to get too restless.
Which is easier some days than others. 
For example, the first few felt like a breeze. Nothing more than a collection of hours that quickly whizzed by before you could even blink. With Astarion there to distract you, time seemed to slip from your grasp entirely. Exiting your mind in the form of lengthy naps spent latched onto your partner’s frame. 
It was blissful. A much needed break from all the chaos but it was obvious it wouldn’t last. Nothing more than a blip in an otherwise more momentous event, you could feel the restlessness of the future seeping in. Taking hold of your mind, ripping through the cavernous well of missing information that occurred during your death. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. How the group managed without you —how Astarion managed.
Based on the lack of space given during the healing process, you assume badly. Considering he’s never touched you like this —like you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever placed his hands on as if at any moment one wrongful slip of his fingers might shatter you all over again— it’s apparent something within him changed. Shifting in a way that, even now, nearly a week later his presence is still stagnant.  
And for the most part, it is nice. A welcomed change amongst all the bullshit. Having him there with you —seeing the lengths he’s willing to go to make sure that you’re safe is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever felt. A dream within a plague of nightmares lulling you to sleep each night he holds you close, telling you that everything’s fine. At least, until it isn’t. Then it feels like suffocation. Like his once-loving hands are now wrapped around your throat, reminding you of what little time you have left. Forcing you to realize that, instead of lying around living in ignorance of the task at hand, you should be helping —working alongside the rest of the party to complete your common goal. 
“I need to move, Astarion,” you tell him. Almost angrily, you press your hands to either side of his face, narrowing your eyes, watching the way he rolls his own and frowns.
“Zamrie said—“
“Oh, my Gods, forget what Zamrie said!” Before he can even protest you’re on your feet and moving towards the door, ignoring the way he huffs in response. Blocking out the sounds of his angered protests as you begin to pull on your boots. “I swear, if I don’t get out of this room I’m going to go insane!”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t do anything other than try to talk you out of it. Relaying each point of criticism with facts to back up his claims, watching the way your face twists in annoyance the longer you realize he’s right. 
Because despite mentally feeling alright aside from the lack of stimulus, you’re still exhausted. A feeling you hadn’t anticipated to take so long to recover from. Assuming you were under the hindrance of any other common illness, you figured you’d be back to normal in a few days tops. No longer feeling numb or shaky. But then again, you were dead. And for a while too, so unfortunately it makes sense as to why as you finish tying your first boot you’re already out of breath. Heavily panting against the warm air of the inn’s top floor as you glance to see Astarion’s smug look. 
“You know I’m right,” he says, and all you do is awkwardly walk back to the bed with your boot still on, collapsing face-first into the mattress with a groan. 
“I’m so bored.”
“And what do you want me to do about it?” 
In response, you merely grumble, feeling him roll you over so that he can untie the laces of your shoe, kneeling at the edge of the bed for better access as you let out a huff, unsure what to say.
Because really, there aren’t very many options left. Already you’ve read every book your party has and then some thanks to Gale and his lengthy trip to Sorcerer’s Sundries, as well as exhausted all your conversation topics. At this point, there’s nothing left but card games and sleeping and Astarion frequently cheats which leaves you with the most boring option. The one you’d rather suffer through the pain of activity than submit to, prompting you to look at Astarion with pleading eyes, praying that just this once he’ll give in. 
“Don’t look at me like that.” 
You narrow your eyes and wiggle your foot as he eventually discards your boot, quickly moving to kick his face in annoyance only to have him catch it before you make contact.
“If you don’t stop I’ll cast hold person on you,” he threatens then, moving to grip your knee and pull you towards the edge of the bed. Smirking at the sound of you squealing in amusement at the sudden shift in position. 
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” you tease, but all he does is slowly maneuver himself above you, slotting his hips between your already spread legs. Ignoring the way your face contorts to showcase the sudden nerves that erupt. 
“I would because then you’d actually rest.” 
“But I am resting.” 
“Hm, are you?”
“I’m laying down aren’t I?”
“That’s different than resting, my love.” 
“Is it?”
Somehow he’s managed to distract you with conversation long enough for you not to notice he’s looming above you. Pressing his palms against the spaces next to your head —shifting the lower half of his body to lightly press against your own. 
Upon noticing this, you swallow hard and try not to smile. Forcing down the anxiety of Astarion’s mischievous gaze exploring your features —taking in the obvious temptation that’s begun to surface. 
“You don’t seem very tired,” he tells you. Teasing you in a way that has you rolling your eyes, allowing it to happen because, while you’ve exhausted a lot of options to entertain yourself, sex isn’t one of them. Considering the two of you have been too busy reuniting and making sure everything about your resurrection continued to go smoothly, the thought really hadn’t occurred to either of you. 
Far too lost in the simple touches of each other’s company, up until now it felt more important just to coexist. To relax and monitor rather than jump into something that could only result in complications. 
Which is a thought that sits at the back of your mind. Even as he leans down, nudging your nose with his —saying something flirtatious that you completely miss due to the passing thoughts that stroll through your head— you can’t help but wonder if it’s a good idea.
“Are you sure we—“
He cuts you off with a gentle kiss. One that lingers for a couple of seconds before it’s over and he’s grinning above you, moving to glide his thumb along your cheek. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.“
“No, I just —is it right?” 
He scrunches up his face, looking at you in confusion. Making you realize how offensive your words probably sound. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?”
You take a minute to put together your thoughts, ignoring the way he longs for your answer. Feeling him shift slightly backwards in anticipation of your inevitable rejection. 
“Is this the right time to be doing this?”
He raises his brow and sort of laughs. “Do you mean that morally or?”
“Kind of?”
“Kind of?”
All you do is scoff in embarrassment, moving your hands to cover your face. “I just mean that… should we be having sex while the others are doing all the work?” 
Astarion really laughs at that, his voice practically rising a full octave as he swats away your hands, watching your annoyance only increase at his actions. “Seriously? That’s what you’re concerned about?”
“I feel like it’s a valid concern.” 
“Well, it’s not.” 
“Okay but I think—” 
He steals another kiss, ignoring the groan of protest that hits his lips. Opting to instead grab your cheek again, gliding his fingers against your skin. Feeling the way you almost immediately settle into his touch the moment he pulls away. 
“Darling, you and I both know the other’s don’t give a shit what we do. So long as it’s somewhat legal and doesn’t disturb their sleep.” 
Moving your hands to his torso, you practically sigh in defeat, pinching his hips with frustrated fingers as you lean up and kiss his chin. “I don’t know. I think Gale might be jealous if he comes back and sees us.”
As you fall back down he chases you instantly, enveloping your mouth in his a third time, knowing then that you’re surrendering. That instead of fighting the urge to make excuses, you’re allowing yourself to enjoy what he’s offering. To experience that connection without the added baggage of not knowing whether or not there’s feelings involved. 
Because now that you’ve admitted it —now that both of you have said those three little words, it feels completely different. After travelling and talking and experiencing that unfortunate blip of separation there’s a whole other dynamic that takes place.
For example, somehow his touch is gentler. And not because of your current physical setbacks. No, there’s something tender about it. As if the care he has for you has extended from his heart to his palms, guiding them in ways that make your chest tighten with newfound anticipation. Against your flesh, his fingers are delicately placed, slipping to grip the back of your neck, sprawling out to cover as much surface area as possible. 
Sighing into him, your thoughts wander to different positions. Imagining all of the ways the two of you might end up, you can feel your stomach twist with excitement. Your mouth curling up into an empty-minded smile, unaware of the joy that radiates between you. Too distracted by the happy sound he makes when you grip the waistline of his pants. 
“Does this serve as a good enough distraction for your boredom?” 
You hum and kiss him, eventually pulling back to nod. “Only if it’s okay.” 
For a moment he pauses, his expression turning from playful to serious. His eyes softening at the weight of your words, realizing that you mean it. That for once in his life he’s in control of his own pleasure. 
“I promise you, I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t,” he eventually tells you, and all you do is beam. Moving your hands to his face, you look at him with affectionate pride, running your thumbs along the highpoint of his cheeks —pressing down as you pull him back to rest his forehead against yours.
“I love you so much,” you say, closing your eyes, hearing him softly hum in a way that rips the air right out of your lungs. Feeling the way he stiffens before he ultimately melts beneath your touch, allowing the full weight of his body to press against yours. 
“You mean the world to me,” he responds, moving to kiss your cheek before moving to the other before you open your eyes again to see him hovering above. “When I lost you I—“
You don’t interrupt him. Instead, you just press your lips together and offer a nod, watching his mind work through the blockage. 
“Losing you felt like losing hope. Like I was being shoved back into that blasted mausoleum all over again.” He pauses to swallow, watching you stare into his eyes, refusing to break the contact even though it’s obvious he wants to. “I don’t want to feel like that ever again. I can’t —I won’t.” 
Your hands move towards his shoulders, slowly weaving their way around his neck to pull him close. To let him feel the pounding heart inside your chest and how its pace quickens because of him.
“I know it may seem like I’m ungrateful a lot of the time —that I’m brash or unkind but don’t think for a second I take for granted what you feel for me.” His lips press against yours for a second before they’re separate again. “I love you and I won’t let anything more happen to you.”
As soon as he finishes you can’t help but pull him against your chest, placing a kiss to the crown of his head before resting your chin on top of it. “Mm, you really have a way with words don’t you?”
All he does is chuckle. “I would hope so after all the mindless chatter I’ve done over the last two centuries.”
“I’m sure you’ve swept your fair share of feet with that beautiful voice of yours.” 
He cranes his neck to look up at you. “My voice is pretty beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s like music to my ears, darling,” you tell him, partially mocking him as he scoffs in response and reaches for the nearest pillow to smother your already giggling face.
 “Don’t mock me.” 
Awkwardly moving to shove the pillow aside, you feel him shift against you as he sits up, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. “Actually, you know what, I take back what I said —I actually hate you.”
“No you don’t.” 
You scrunch up your face in fake annoyance as he leans down again, giving you a chastising look. “I do. So much so that I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.”
“Oh, really?”
While nodding your head, you try your best to get him to release your wrists but to no avail, eventually sighing in response. “Yeah, I’d rather take a bath instead, I think. Get you to wash my hair or something.”
Without even protesting he just kisses your nose and rises from the bed, readying the bath. Taking it upon himself to focus on the task at hand rather than your lingering eyes staring at his dishevelled hair and the way his clothes have shifted out of place thanks to your roaming hands. Something that shouldn’t annoy you but does as you crave his attention. Finding yourself wanting desperately to keep him connected any way you can. 
Because despite knowing he’s here with you, sometimes he isn’t. Instead, sometimes he’s lost in far-off lands, travelling by himself in fear, trying desperately to get back. Behind his eyes, you can always tell when he’s absent because his eyes sort of shift out of focus, dismissing whatever’s directly in front of him in favour of relieving whatever awful memory’s been triggered. 
It breaks your heart. Ultimately spurring you to stand and move behind, wrapping your arms around him as he finishes up the bath. 
“C’mon, get it before it gets cold.” 
Despite wanting to playfully protest, you listen. Taking a reluctant step back while releasing his frame, you slowly begin to peel off your clothes, feeling his fingertips reach for your stomach as you throw your tunic over your head.
“Can I help you?” 
Looking down at his hand, you see his fingers draw patterns into your flesh. How they practically dance their way down to your waist before his other hand slips to the buttons of your trousers. 
“Other way around.”
You look at him, confused, prompting him to laugh. 
“Figured you could use a hand with these.” He tugs the button through the hole with one quick swipe, causing you to bite back a smirk and roll your eyes, allowing him to slowly drag the fabric down your legs. Watching as he moves to his knees along with it. 
Once there, he motions for you to step out of each pant leg, discarding the fabric entirely. Grinning up at you once you’re left only in your underwear. 
“Gods, you’re…” He doesn’t finish. Instead, he just kisses the inner portion of your thigh as he plays with the edge of the fabric, looking up at you with pleading eyes. The kind that you merely nod at, suddenly feeling nervous.
Because it’s been a while since he’s seen you like this. And even so, it continues to feel different. More intimate somehow as he moves at a leisurely pace, kissing your skin while exposing your sex. As it happens, you have to look away and take a breath, feeling everything shift past your thighs and knees, eventually moving to your calves and feet before there’s nothing against you. No fabric or hands or lips —only the suffocating air of the inn hitting your bare skin, forcing you to uncomfortably squirm as you look down. 
“Beautiful,” he mutters, and suddenly it feels like your heart is bursting against your chest, watching as he leans forward to pepper a few kisses along your upper legs, reaching for the scars that line your stomach —ignoring the way they twitch beneath his fingertips as he traces over them. “How about we get you into the tub before the water gets cold, hm?”
Almost nervously you nod, feeling him grip your hips for support as he moves to stand before guiding you into the tub without another word. 
-
TAGLIST:
@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren
(taglist continued in reblogs)
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minihotdog · 1 month
Text
Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You took the tea)
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, sexist-type humor, size kink
Word Count: 3k
Previous part
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“You want some tea, love?”
***
You’re now sitting at the small round dinner table watching as he tilts the kettle into the mugs. He walks the mugs over to the table and sits across from you.
“Didn’t have anyone to stay with, did you?” He asks before taking a sip.
“I sure didn’t. Everyone is still avoiding me like the plague.” You stare down at the mug. 
“It’ll end soon.” He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb. The action catches your attention and he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your eyes. For a stone-cold man, he sure was catching himself smirking a lot tonight. 
“When I showed up to my first unit I got the same, and the unit after that.” The two of you drink simultaneously.
“What? They ignored you?”
“No,” He chuckles softly. “My first unit, they held me down and branded me with a shite-looking coat of arms made from a wire clothes hanger.”
You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand.
“What?! Where?!”
“My bum.”
You snort, “I’m sorry, that’s not funny.” You cover your face with your hands. His shoulders rise and fall with soft laughter.
“It is a little.”
“Did they ever get in trouble? Reprimanded?”
“Never told anyone, ran into them at my next unit and pummeled them into the ground.”
“Bravo!” You celebrate with your hands in the air. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Then I was disciplined for the beatin’ they got but it was worth it.”
“I agree, they had it coming.”
You take another gulp of your tea enjoying the spread of warmth inside of you.
“You’re quite fond of trouble.” He states flatly. You still, squinting at him in suspicion.
“What makes you say that?”
“Your files,” He raises his eyebrows at you. “Lengthy history of discipline, being reprimanded.”
You hum in response. “Is that the word on the street?”
He grins, his hand coming up to stroke his stubble before he sits back with his arms crossed looking at you. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I’ve gotten in trouble a couple of times in my career, what about it?”
“How long have you been in?”
“Five years.”
“You’re tellin’ me that you’ve been reprimanded nearly every single year you’ve been in?” He now leans on the table looking over at you with a dumbfounded look.
“Shit happens, I have no problem taking responsibility for it.”
“I didn’t take you for the type to cause trouble.”
“I’m not, I just don’t have the grace other people do. I do something stupid and get caught immediately.”
“You’re right about that. You’re a naughty one, for sure.” He says before downing the remaining liquid in his mug.
He smirks to himself letting his eyes roam over your shoulders.
"I heard that boyfriend of yours was a calvary bum." He pokes, changing the subject. 
You "tsk" at him. Once everyone found out about your now ex-boyfriend they never let you live it down.
"What's his job got to do with anything?"
Simon shrugs, feigning ignorance, “Assumed a woman like you preferred men, that’s all.”
“Oh, hush!” You bite back a laugh refusing to meet his eyes. 
“I bet he cried like a child at the thought of going to the field.”
“That’s enough out of you!” You reach over the table to cover his mouth. He fights you off taking your wrists in his hands. He stands and walks to your side of the table gently pulling up by the wrists. His massive frame takes most of your view, you can’t help but feel anxiety pool in your stomach having him tower over you.
“Poor bird, spendin’ her nights with half a man. Bet he didn’t have a clue what he was doin’.”
The warmth you felt from the tea was traveling up to your cheeks. He was so close you could smell the rich cologne in his skin. His hands were so rough but warm on your pulse. 
Your eyes focus on his lips.
“Did he?” The gravel of his voice makes a shiver run through your spine. You gulp before responding.
”He was… enthusiastic.”
Simon laughs hoarsely, “Enthusiastic?” He enunciates with a shit-eating grin.
”Why is my sex life a topic of conversation to my Lt.?” You suddenly get some courage.
”You think I haven’t noticed you droolin’ over me, love. Peakin’ at me from afar. Now you show up to my flat with your tits fallin’ out of your top, your bare ass out, and a broken heart from some lad not worth the air he breathes.” He drops his head forcing you to meet his eyes. “Quite the coincidence, innit?”
”I think it’s more of a happy coincid-“ He breaks your sentence off catching your lips with his. Your brain pushes you out of your frozen state and the two of you begin moving in unison. He slowly releases your wrists and moves his hands to your waist. Your hands run down his chest.
He deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue past your lips. You moan softly as his tongue plays with yours. He pulls you against him, one hand over yours on his chest the other at the small of your back. You feel lightheaded, not in a bad way, quite the opposite. You’d fantasized about your Lt. plenty of times, his touch, the scars he hid beneath his army green top, the way his lips felt - come to find out they were soft, unlike the rest of him. His hands keep setting you ablaze when they touch your skin, the callouses nearly make your eyes roll back.
He growls into the kiss, tearing himself away from you. His arms wrap around the back of your thighs and you grab onto his shoulders. He lifts and places you on the table, forcing himself between your legs. He bites at your neck, pulling you into him. You grip the table feeling as if you could slide off at any second. 
He eats up every single gasp he gets out of you. His teeth graze your collar bone and he sucks on the sensitive skin. Your nails run over his scalp down to the back of his neck drawing a groan from him.
He stops for a moment to let you catch your breath.
”You want this, love?” He leans his forehead against yours looking into your eyes.
“God, yes!” You exasperate. 
He chuckles, still looking into your eyes.
”Hold on.”
”What do you-“ 
You squeal as he lifts you off the table and rushes to wrap your arms around his neck. You rest your head on his neck relishing in the feeling of his body against yours. Warmth radiated off of him like a furnace, the feel of his skin so addictive.
He carries you to the couch placing his knee on the cushions before gently placing you on your back. He follows you down and your hands run down his bare back.
He supports himself with one arm, the other trails down to your aching core, cupping the mound. He lets out a ragged breath once he feels the heat burning through you. He moves to pull your shorts off, dragging them up your legs and tossing them off to the side.
”Fuckin’ hell,” He groans at the sight of your bare pussy. “Such a bad girl walking around without knickers.”
He gives you one last hypnotizing kiss before brushing his lips in between your breasts. He kisses each one and carries on down your stomach and lands right above your clit.
You panic inside, you prop yourself up on your elbows, “Lt.”
”Fuck’s sake, love. As much as I love hearin’ you call me that, say my name, will you?” He laughs light-heartedly. You smile behind your hand trying not to break out in giggles. 
“What is it?” His eyebrows pull together.
”You don’t have to do that if you don’t want.”
”Eat you out?” He looks at you confused.
You nod slowly, embarrassed at the question.
He “Tsks” at you lowering himself once again while muttering something along the lines of, “Calvary muppet took the fun out of pussy, didn’t he?”
”I’m serious! You don’t have to!” You spit out frantically.
“Shut up, doll.”
He licks a stripe up your cunt and moans softly to himself. Your lips part in disbelief. He slowly laps at your clit and you lower yourself onto your back. He decides not to work you too fast yet, scared you’d pass out after being neglected by that dumb bloke for so long. 
You whine softly, legs already shaking. He wraps his arms around your thighs and presses them against his head.
He gently sucks on your clit and your hand shoots down to his head. The feeling of you tugging one his short locs encourages him to speed up. His lips wrap around your clit and toys with it as he pleases. The pace causes you to clamp your thighs around his head on your own.
Moans pour from your lips as your back arches. His hands stroke your thighs as you restrain yourself from pushing his head down further.
”Simon! Oh god!” Your mouth hangs open. You look down at him and nearly orgasm seeing him between your legs. His eyes are blown out, his thumb caresses your skin.
He lets go of one thigh and his fingers tap at your entrance gathering your wetness. He pushes two of his fingers inside you and your head falls back. Your vision goes fuzzy and you clamp your eyes shut. His fingers pump into you hitting your g-spot each time.
Your hand flies to your mouth and you let out a high-pitched moan. You chant his name tightening around his fingers. He feels your walls clamp down and continues pumping letting you ride it out. Your hips twitch, your thighs trap him where he is. 
He waits until you go limp to pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
”Fuck, you made a mess.” He groans. He climbs above you and peppers your face with kisses. “Was that alright, love?” 
You open your eyes to meet his, all you can do is nod unable to trust yourself to talk. He smirks at you, proud of himself for leaving you in such a state.
”You think you can take me, love, or do you need some time?”
”Want you so bad,” You whine out.
He lowers his head for a chaste kiss and pulls himself up onto his feet. He drops his sweats revealing the thick muscle of his thighs. His cock slaps his thigh as he throws his sweats onto the floor, the weight of it keeping it down. Your eyes meet his member and a wave of nervousness comes over you. His length was impressive but the thickness was your biggest concern. 
“Hey! You weren’t wearing underwear either, hypocrite!”
He rolls his eyes at you with a smile. A sight so beautiful you can’t help but smile back.
He takes his earlier position above you and aligns himself with your entrance. He looks up at you and you feel his tip poking into you already.
”Ready, doll?”
You nod at him.
”Say it.” He whispers.
”I-I’m ready.”
”Alright then.” He nudges your forehead with his before the two of you look down to watch the sinful show of him slowly sliding into you. You gasp, hands going to his back. He moves at a snail’s pace letting you adjust as he goes. He cradles your head, forehead against yours trying to keep his breathing steady.
”Ah, tight little thing.” He rasps out.
Your mouth hangs open, your nails digging into his skin, legs hugging his waist once he fills you to the hilt. He waits a moment before slowly sliding out halfway and bringing himself back to the same depth. Your whines draw out. His tip hits the deepest parts of you so well that you nearly begin drooling.
He examines your face for any sign of discomfort before nudging your neck with his nose. He begins with a moderate pace as he kisses along your jaw. You wrap your arms around him, fingers running over the buzzed hair at the back of his head. 
The stretch from his cock stings slightly, the overwhelming pleasure sending tingles through your bones making it hard to notice. He continues rocking his hips into yours letting you enjoy the feel of him without anything too overwhelming. You mewl into his ear as he stretches you over and over.
”Fuck, so good,” You whine.
His hand comes down to grip your breast, his thumb playing with your nipple, circling it gently. He slides his legs up kneeling with you in between his thighs. He stops, letting you catch your breath and he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He suckles the nub, playing with it with his warm tongue. He thumbs your clit as he treats the nub like a candy. He grabs you by the waist and pulls you down onto his cock, dragging you down the cushions fucking you onto him for a while. 
He angles his hips to hit all the right places, your cunt throbs around him when he hits your g-spot head on causing you to gasp.
”Oh fuck! Right there!” Your hands cling onto his forearms for dear life as he goes on to hit the spot repeatedly until it nearly hurts. His pubic bone rubs against your clit with every thrust. He picks up his pace, throttling that poor little sensitive spot. Your back arches painfully. He takes advantage of it and throws his hand under your waist keeping you in the position swinging you down to meet his thrusts.
He stuffs you with his cock relentlessly. You become a mess beneath him struggling to get words out, just high-pitched moans filling the room.
”God! Oh god!” 
“He’s not here, love. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He orders.
The feeling grows inside you pulling the air from your lungs. He nips the skin below your breasts and licks a stripe between them to your neck. Your pussy flutters around him before you fall deep into euphoria, his name pours from you. Your ears ring and eyes wire themselves shut as you clamp down around him. Tears pour from your eyes involuntarily. 
The sequence of flutters pulls him back into you making it too difficult to pull out too far. He buries his head in your chest as he’s pulled over the edge. He moans into your skin as your body sucks him back in, milking him so hard he blinks trying to rid himself of the fog. He begins spilling into you, his white hot streams shooting out at high velocity. He paints your walls so thoroughly that you feel his cock twitching with every spasm. 
His cum spills out of you not having any more room to fill. You gush around him and he quietly gasps. 
The two of you stay like this for what could’ve been an eternity. The post-orgasmic haze engulfs the both of you. He keeps himself inside and lowers himself onto his side, dragging you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He pulls you into his sweaty heaving chest and kisses your forehead. 
He feels a wetness on his thumb and pulls back, wiping away your tears.
”What’s happened, Y/n?” He asks, concerned. “Did I hurt you?” He moves to pull himself out of you and you grab him, bringing him to a stop. “You’re crying, love.”
”That was amazing.” You mumble, eyes struggling to open.
”You cryin’ because it was good?” He laughs, a big goofy smile plasters itself on his face. You force your eyes open to peek at him. 
“You smile so pretty.”
He pulls you back to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you.
”Thank you, love.” You could still hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up and put to bed, yeah?”
”Too sleepy.” You complain.
”It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.” Against your protests, he lifts himself slowly and positions himself to pull out of you. He gives you a single nudge with his cock still sheathed and you nearly purr. 
He pulls out slowly.
”Jesus, I’m gonna need a new couch.” He mutters. His cum spills from you, his eyes glued to your core watching it slowly pour out. His cock twitches and he has to look away. There was no way you were in shape for another round. Thankfully the memory was burned into his mind - the best thing he’d ever seen, next to you of course. 
He lets you know he’ll be back and you hear water rushing down the hall. He returns moments later and slides his hands under you.
”Bath time,” He says in a sing-song-y voice. You giggle, lacing your fingers behind his neck. He lifts you in his arms and looks into your eyes. “You were wonderful.” He pecks your lips and carries you off to his bathroom placing you in the bathtub before sliding in behind you.
”I don’t have a hair tie but I’ll try with some string,” He says mostly to himself. The warm water only reaches your belly button, once he slides behind you it rises a few inches. He wraps your hair into a funny-looking bun and ties it with the piece of string he found.
” Ta-da.” 
“Thank you, Simon.” You say sweetly leaning back against him. He holds you against him and you feel something poke into your back.
”Sorry, love. It’ll go down, I don’t expect you to stay awake long enough for another one.”
You moan in response and sigh letting the water nearly lull you to sleep. 
“Wait,” you breathe out. “Does me saying your name turn you on?”
He doesn’t respond. You try to look up at him but he tightens his hold not wanting you to see the red spawning over his face.
”Siiiiimon”
”Oh, hush.” He imitates your voice.
”Hey!”
He grabs his loofa and begins lathering you in bubbles.
”C’mon, I wanna get you in bed before you fall asleep.”
He cleans every bit of you, focusing on your breasts because no matter how much he denied it at that moment, he was still a dog. He hands you a bath bomb that he saved in case he ever had a special someone stay over and let you watch it fizz up as he cleans himself.
He dries you off and plops you down on his massive bed wearing his t-shirt. By the time he throws on his boxers you’re fast asleep under the covers, engulfed in his scent.
He slides next to you pulling you into his arms. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and whispers into your hair, “You’re mine now, doll. All mine.”
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Hi again! May I also please request some headcanons of what being married to various Star Wars characters is like?
Various Star Wars Characters Headcanons: What being Married to them is like.
Hi, of course you can! I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this, but hopefully it will be worth the wait. I'm going to get started on your other request as soon as I am able, and also, I didn't add Cal to this one given how lengthy it already is, but feel free to ask me to. Oh, one last thing, if anyone wants to request Wedding Day or Proposals Headcanons you absolutely can, I would have added them in this one, but as I've said, it's way too long. Enjoy!
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Obi-Wan Kenobi:
-I am absolutely convinced Obi-Wan would make the perfect husband, if his way of life didn't get as in the way as it does. Still, if he has decided to marry you, he surely has gotten over any conflicting feelings about breaking the code, and has made you and your marriage his absolute top priority. Obi-Wan is nothing if not a deeply committed man, and once he is pouring all of it on you, you can be certain he will fight to make your relationship work against each and every odd. 
-Obi-Wan is, most of all, a caring and attentive partner. He always makes the most of the time you spend together, and never makes you feel clingy or annoying if the separation ever gets to you. He never forgets your anniversaries or what and where your "firsts" together have been, and his gifts, while not necessarily expensive, are always super thought out.
-He is an amazing communicator with basically endless patience, fights with him are practically nonexistent, and even when they do happen he goes about it super rationally and never ever raises his voice. He would bend himself backwards for your happiness and safety and he always pays attention to make sure you are 100% comfortable with him, and with coming to him about any issues or feelings you might have.
-Obi-Wan proposed to you with the intention of letting you know just how committed he is to the family you are building together and how much he trusts you. So really, jealousy is definitely not an issue in your marriage.  Still, nobody knows about it, not even Ani, even though he and a few other close friends definitely suspect something. Especially because Obi-Wan absolutely refuses to not have his wedding ring hidden somewhere on his person. (There have been... a few close calls because of it, you're both lucky he can charm his way out of almost anything.)
-He is very domestic, or at least does his best to be, with his duties in the way and all. He always tries to cook at least one meal for you, and he absolutely adores coming home to you and something you've prepared for him (no matter how good you are at it. Honestly if you're still learning, he is your number one supporter and encourager.) He never complains about chores and does his best to make them enjoyable for the both of you, if you have something you'd rather not do, whatever it is he is more than happy to take over.
-Obi-Wan is great with children, and if you decided to have some after the fall of the Order, he would be an amazing dad. Just keep in mind that he might be quite a bit more apprehensive/protective after you are forced into hiding, he blames himself for a lot of things and it might take a while for him to be ready to expand your family. But don't worry, once you both find some peace again he will be ecstatic about it, after all, there's nothing in the Universe worth more than you guys.
Anakin Skywalker:
-Anakin wouldn't be a bad husband by any means, but he's got some work to do on himself you might have to help him through. Still, I assure you, he would do his absolute damned best to be great for you, and he would love you more than it should be humanly possible. Nothing could ever even come close to meaning as much as you do to him, he would literally let the whole galaxy burn if it made you happy. Which might, depending on you, be one of those tendencies you should pull him away from. Or don't, no judgment here.
Anyway, what matters the most is: Anakin is devoted.
-Ani is very empathetic, especially when it comes to you. Sometimes you feel like he might understand your moods even better than you do, which means, as soon as he feels like you might be even a little bit sad or stressed, Ani is dropping everything to come cheer you up. Which no doubt will get him in trouble, but it's not like he cares. He can be a bit clingy/overprotective of you, honestly. Again, if you want him to be a bit more responsible then you're gonna have to help him work on it. Won't ever forget your "firsts" or anniversaries, but gifts are not really his forte, so except a few handmade pieces every now and again he would much rather celebrate by going somewhere and creating new memories together.
-While he has no trouble at all understanding you, Ani has quite a few problems with communicating himself and his thoughts. Half the time he tells you every little detail of what's going through his mind, which could easily lead to him overthinking if you don't help him calm down. And every other time he can't even get his mouth open to tell you how his day is going, which usually happens when he is particularly upset about something, luckily it's easy to tell it's happening and you won't have too much trouble coaxing it out of him (He really really wants to tell you everything, he just doesn't know where to even begin.) So, even though fights can happen quite often, mostly because Ani tends to be a bit emotional about things he cares for, they are easily resolved. He refuses to go to sleep without you/knowing you mad at him, so really, they don't last more than a few hours.
-Anakin proposed to you shortly after you confessed your feelings for each other, seeing no point in waiting since he knows with his entire heart that you are his other half.  Jealousy might be a little bit of an issue, mostly because nobody knows that you two belong to each other and the secrecy drives him up the walls, and as I've said, Ani can be a bit hot-blooded about what he loves. But honestly, it's an easy fix, just don't spend more time with someone else than you do him, and let him hold you close if he needs it.
-Speaking of the secrecy, Ani didn't even think twice about breaking the code for you, what makes you think he wouldn't try to scream how much he loves you from every rooftop in Coruscant? Honestly, unless you don't mind all the endless problems that you and especially him would have to face with the Jedi Order, you're gonna have to be really convincing to make him see reason.  And even then, he's not going to act like you're not the most important person in his life, or accept that he can't kiss you whenever you feel like it, or be ashamed of displaying his wedding ring. The best he's going to do is probably move the both of you behind a column or something... as if that wouldn't be suspicious in a room full of force sensitives. So really, your relationship is only a secret because the people around you would rather pretend it is. Mostly because they recognise that you are good for him, Obi-Wan most of all.
-Anakin might not be the best at taking care of the house, or have much patience for chores, but he's not gonna leave all the burden to you. He's going to help until he completely runs out of patience and then he's going to distract both of you and make it a "tomorrow's" problem. I feel like he'd be great with kids if you decided to have them, especially if he's gotten away from the Order. And also, having them might really help him mature/become a little more responsible, he really wants to do right by you. 
Luke Skywalker:
-Luke is a sweetheart whose first priority is always his family, and that really shines through in your marriage. I mean, have you seen him with his father? There's nothing you could do that would make Luke give up on you, ever. He thinks the world of you no matter what, and he never blames you whenever you can't be the best version of yourself. Saying he's an understanding partner would be putting it very lightly.
-Luke treats you as if you were his shining light in the darkness, his saving grace, the beacon of hope in his life. He always wants you to feel appreciated and valued, and he does his absolute best to let you know that through his actions and words, but you can see it the most when any type of celebration comes up. He has a list of all the things you casually mention during conversations that you might want or need, and he gifts them to you any time he has even just a slight excuse to.
-Luke is also a great communicator, and he always keeps his calm during conflicts. He does his absolute best to put himself in your shoes if you disagree on something, and even when he can't he never makes you feel like your opinion is "wrong". Even though he might seem a bit plaintive to those who don't know him well, Luke only brings up even really small issues to avoid either of you stewing on it needlessly. It's much easier in the long run to just get things off your chest, and reach an understanding. So in the end, while disagreements surely happen, they extremely rarely evolve into fights.
-Luke proposed to you out of the simple and pure desire to be able to call you his family. There's nothing that brings him more joy than catching a glimpse of either his or your own ring shining on your fingers. It's like the physical proof that he is yours as you are his, that he has a home he belongs to. Leia and Han love you to bits, the happiness you bring to the family and most importantly to Luke, is the best thing they could've asked for. Han would say he knew you two would get together from the very start, but honestly, it was Leia who just felt it. Either way, the chemistry you two shared would have been hard to miss, which is why Luke didn't have much of a choice in telling them about your relationship. (It's difficult to keep feelings secret when your twin sister is force sensitive.)
-Luke isn't a jealous man by nature, but really, the sheer trust he has in you and what you two have is more than enough for him to never be bothered by those who flirt with you. And honestly, he understands them, how could they not want to, he's just unbelievably glad that out of everyone, you chose him.
-Luke is amazing at taking care of the house, (the perks of growing up on a farm) he never leaves messes behind, he knows how to cook, and any chore will be carried out efficiently and without complaints. His way of life is simple and peaceful, like a true Jedi, and depending on you, you'll either be the most homely and tranquil couple the galaxy has ever seen, or you will bring fun and excitement into his life and you'll balance each other out. Either way, he is amazing at going with the flow.
-For as much as your family means to him, Luke might still be a little hesitant about having kids. It's not as if he doesn't want them, stars no, but he has quite a few worries. Most of all, he fears turning out like his own father, and how fragmented and unsteady the Galaxy is, even after the victory of the rebellion. Honestly he just wants them to be happy and have an easier life than he did, which he's deadly afraid of not being able to provide. It might take a while to reassure him, and you'd have to be patient, but he's going to be the happiest man in the whole Universe as soon as he's holding your child in his arms, so it's gonna be worth it.
Han Solo:
-It would take a while for Han to realize that hey, this is serious, that he truly really might want to spend the rest of his life by your side. There would be a time when that realization would frighten him, make him pull away from anything he isn't ready to lose: you. Commitment is not something that comes easy to him, and it would be the roughest patch in your entire relationship, it would take lots of reassurance and persistence on your side, but once that is over, oh boy is he committed. When Han finally accepts the true extent of his feelings for you, that he now can't for the life of him let you slip through his fingers, be prepared, cause he's gonna make this work, you're stuck with him now. (And Chewie)
A relationship with him is fun, he knows how to have a good time and he wants any time you two spend together to become a good memory, even under less than ideal circumstances. He's going to make the most inappropriate jokes at the most inappropriate times, he's going to tease you like his life depends on it, and he's going to make you laugh like nobody else ever could. It only takes putting up with his enormous but quite fragile ego, really.
He has a tendency to avoid taking anything too seriously, which depending on you might get a little annoying at times, but he is also really dependable when it comes down to it. Sure, he is going to complain to hell and back, but he would die for you in a heartbeat, anything less than that is just more material to jokingly throw back at you when he wants to get out of doing something. It never works.
-Celebrations and anniversaries are Han’s favourite days, does he only remember about a few of them the literal day of? absolutely, but damn him if he doesn't make them special. Han is all about living in the moment, he wants every second dedicated to celebrating you or your relationship to be memorable, and he can be cheesy when it comes to it, just never say that out loud. You guys' song is playing, even tho he insists you don't have one? He is holding your hand or dancing with you. What do you mean he's being romantic, he just had to show off his moves. You have a favourite food and you suddenly find it in the kitchen? Don't look at him like that, he didn't do it for you, he was just craving it and was nice enough to get you some, even tho there's only one plate and you are pretty sure you can still spot the residues of a failed cooking attempt.
He might not get you a gift every time, cause that's not really his forte, and depending on the time you might be a little short on money, but there are a few really significant ones every now and again, like the dress or suit you’ve been saving up for, or the necklace he bought you when you'd been away from each other for a few days and stars did he miss you.
-Han is… not great at communicating in a way that doesn't contain an excessive amount of snark. It's never insulting, and he makes sure to stay clear of anything that might actually hurt you, but this man grew up with only fighting spirit and sarcasm on his side, and he still has a hard time remembering that he doesn't have to defend himself from you, that showing you his emotions and caring doesn’t mean he’s pathetic. The longer you two are together the better he becomes at taking a step away to calm down before speaking, sure, your relationship is still made of almost constant banter, but now it's playful and lighthearted, and Han truly makes an effort to be serious when you want him to be. Hotheaded and stubborn as he is, he would never hurt you on purpose.
-Han proposed right after he got over the mental breakdown that came with realizing the extent of his feelings for you, now that he's aware? It's ride or die. Really, there have been very very few people that he has ever cared for more than himself, he would trade his happiness for yours, he couldn't love you more than he already does, couldn't love nobody else the same way.
Still, this man's jealousy is through the roof. It's definitely not because he doesn't trust you, but he can't help but fear the day you might meet someone worthier of your affection then him. For as cocky as he tends to be, Han knows he is not always the easiest to get along with, so just let him stand close to you when you're out, and wrap his arm around you when somebody is “clearly” trying to flirt with you, and he will be back to his confident self in no time. It would be even easier to deal with if you were comfortable with letting him tell everyone and their families that you're married. No but seriously, there is no chance your relationship was ever a secret, Han has no filter when it comes to bragging and oh boy is he proud of you. And lets not forget the wedding ring, being a pilot he mostly wears it on a chain around his neck, but that thing is on display. He even develops the endearing habit of holding onto it when he is doing something just a little too risky, you're his lucky charm, and if you were to show off your ring just as much as he does? Well, you might never hear the end of it, but you can tell he gets sentimental about it.
-Han never thought he'd be one for domesticity, and in a lot of ways he still isn't. He can't cook to save his life, he despises chores so much that you can pretty much just thank Chewie if the Falcon is a somewhat livable space at all, and some of his clothes have holes in them he barely tried to mend. But you have made a huge difference, and even tho he won't even try and help you when it comes to stoves, he'll take care of the coffee and he'll set the table and you don’t even have to ask. He won't help you and Chewbacca with the cleaning and tidying but he'll make sure to stop leaving things around and pick up after himself to give you an easier time (not a day goes by that Chewie doesn't thank the stars for your existence). And he still fusses about his clothes, but he makes you something to drink and watches you sew with so much awe you feel like you're hanging the stars in the sky.
So yes, he still sucks at it, but he loves what you two have more than anything in the world, and he tries, he really does, cause you make him want to be the best version of himself. And when it comes to kids, well… parenthood scares him half to death, but he knows it will be amazing if he has you to learn with, and no matter what obstacles your family will have to face, he promises you, he'll make it work.
The Mandalorian/Din Djarin:
-Din is a family man through and through. He would be dedicated to your relationship from the very beginning, and even more so now that you are married. If he has gotten into a serious partnership with you, especially if it happened after he found the child, it means that you are it for him, you are the love of his life, the parent of his kids, his clan, the only one he will ever have by his side. And it's useless to say that he is loyal to a fault, he will have your back against anything and anyone, come hell or high water, and he will protect you even on the smallest of things as if his life depended on it. Anything that is important to you automatically becomes top priority for him as well, and you will never want for anything as long as there is breath in his lungs. It can be a bit much at times, especially because he pretty much puts you on a pedestal, but it's not as if he wants you to be perfect, he knows your faults and embraces them, he just can't help but be adoring of every single part of you.
With him, you will never even have a chance to look down on yourself, you and Grogu are the best thing that could have ever happened to him, and he will remind you of that until his voice gets hoarse if he thinks you don't believe it.
-Din is not big on celebrations, but he always does something to make you feel appreciated, and he remembers all of them. Even if he doesn't bring you anywhere fancy, he knows quite a few beautiful and secluded spots, where the two of you can simply bask in each other's presence and be at peace. A simple but thought out gift he remembers you like, your favourite song in the background, any type of food you like the most. He's observant and he knows you like the back of his hand, so rest assured, the entire day will be tailored to fit your mood and preferences. And if you do something for him? Stars, you just might kill him. No, his voice isn't shaking, he's fine, don't worry he just needs a minute.
-Din never raises his voice at you, and he has the patience of a saint, but he isn't great at expressing his own thoughts and feelings. He listens to everything you have to say, and because of how much he respects you and values your opinion, he always takes the points you make into consideration with great attention. Din hates fighting with you and he isn't afraid to admit when he's in the wrong, so usually arguments end fairly easily, but he also isn't afraid to stand his ground, which is where most of your troubles reside. If he has listened to your perspective and still thinks he's right, he can come across as a little… patronizing. He would never believe himself better than you of course, quite the opposite, but he can at times sound curt or dismissive, even when he doesn't mean to be. Just tell him that, and he will be more than willing to try and express himself better, you might have to help him with it tho.
-Din proposed to you almost out of the blue, you probably wouldn't expect it, and he might not even have a ring on him, but his speech would be so heartfelt and honest that you might have a hard time holding back tears (and honestly, once you say yes he would too, you just wouldn't be able to see it). I imagine it would happen something like this: he came home from a job that had dragged on for a little too long, ready to just collapse somewhere on the floor of the Crest, and forgetting in his tiredness that he is not alone anymore. He would be almost taken aback once he opens the door, finding the lights still on and you, with the child held tightly in your arms, asleep on his chair in the cockpit, clearly having tried to stay up to wait for him. It would be a sudden but gentle realization, that now he has everything he has ever wanted and never thought he could have, that you are his family, and he has to officialise that, he has to properly make you a clan of three. And oh is he itching to rip off his helmet and finally let you see him. Altho he would rather do things properly, because you deserve nothing less, he���d just have to ask you right in that moment.
Any jealousy Din might have would evaporate once you get married, but please, do flaunt your ring, he will melt.
-There's not much space for domesticity in the life of a bounty hunter, nor is it a Mandalorian specialty, but against all odds, Din craves it more than anything. You are his home, and he tries his damn hardest to be the same for you, and he's quite the natural at it, although the last time he's experienced it himself has been way back when he still had his parents, so he is a little rusty.
Chores are swiftly dealt with, he'd much rather do it all himself than make you do it, and he rarely accepts help unless he's basically dead on his feet and things can't wait, because he's stubborn like that. But if you were to cook for him and the kid? And he could watch you do it? And maybe you have some music playing in the background? And stars forbid there's a smile on your face? Din is convinced he has died at some point and this is heaven, and he doesn't deserve it at all but you're clearly an angel and for some reason you care for him and he really hopes reincarnation isn't a thing because he wants to stay here with you for the rest of eternity. It's dramatic and he will never say it out loud, not like that at least, but he's sentimental at heart.
On the topic of kids, do I even have to say it? Din is more than willing to expand your family, especially if you were to somewhat settle down, and as we've all seen, he's a great dad.
Poe Dameron:
-Poe would be an amazing husband. Affectionate to a fault, Poe is a very tactile person, which translates to him being quite physical in his demonstrations of love.  If he can, he will always stand or sit close to you, feeling more at ease while sharing your space, and if you aren't uncomfortable, there would definitely be some hand-holding, or you could even sit in his lap honestly, he'd be happy about it.
He'd give you his arm when you are tired so that you can rest your weight on him, wrap an arm around your shoulders or waist when you're walking together, lift you up and down from high places, especially when it comes to you climbing into a ship, especially if it is his ship (Yes, he knows very well that you are more than capable of doing things like this on your own, doesn't mean he can't dedicate his life to making it easier tho); He would offer you his hand to hold onto if you're walking on unsteady ground so that you won't risk falling, he would surprise hug you so much you'd come to expect it anytime (but really, the surprise part was just an excuse so it's not like he's gonna stop), would hoist you over his shoulders if you were ever too short to see or reach something, and give you piggy back rides at absolutely any time.
-Poe is also a very passionate and very charming man. You could be married for a hundred years, and he would still treat you as if he was trying to win you over, every chance he has to court you, he's gonna take it. Which is exactly why he thrives when it comes to celebrations and anniversaries. Flowers find you anytime he has a chance to go pick/buy any, which is far less often than he'd like given his position in the Resistance, but travelling so much means that he has a good excuse, every planet warrants at least one new bouquet to gift you.
He will either leave them somewhere for you to find, like on your bedside table when you wake up, or give them to you personally, while trying to wait until things have calmed down and not immediately after he is done embracing you when he returns to base. Both options are accompanied by a note he has written while away, whether the note is going to be extremely lovesick or downright flirty depends heavily on his mood at the time, and if your cheeks are going to be flaming hot by the end of them... well, that depends on your willpower.
Speaking of which, you might start to associate the flowers to a promise of safe return, and picking up on it, Poe will gift you a beautiful, specially commissioned pendant that has both of your favourite flowers on it, that can immortalise without withering his promise to be by your side until his dying day.
Also anything interesting he might see while travelling will be brought back to you, from clothes to special types of local chocolate to anything that correlates to a hobby of yours. Or, truth be told, anything that reminds him of you, and that is a lot of things, but he might keep some of those for himself, just to have a piece of you to hold close to his heart when he can't hold you.
-Poe hates arguing; sure, playful teasing or loving banter are his bread and butter, but actual fights make him more sad than angry.  Of course, disagreements happen, and Poe is more than willing to listen to your point of view, before swiftly changing the subject and letting it be water under the bridge.  Honestly, maybe influenced by his parents relationship, Poe believes in a somewhat fairytale-like kind of love, and most of the time he does manage to make it a reality, other times... well, sometimes fights just can't be avoided, especially when it comes to someone as impulsive as he is. He always finds a way to make it up to you tho, so that's good.
-Poe proposed to you after a dangerous mission that almost ended terribly wrong, with either you or him getting out of it by the skin of your teeth. He'd have been keeping the ring he had intended to propose with for the past couple of months, right in the breast pocket of his pilot suit, where his heart is. He'd had a grand proposal in mind, one that would be romantic and memorable, but never found the right time.
That all went out the ship the moment he got slapped right in the face with the reminder of just how possible it is for either one of you to not come back for the night, to die, and just like that, leave behind your relationship and your love, and all that you have been together. He didn't even let his feet touch the ground after jumping out of his X-wing before he went down on his knees. He of all people should know, that no time is better then right now, with his heart in his hands.
Now, it might come as a little bit of a surprise, but Poe isn't a jealous man, and not only because he is almost always draped over you in one way or another, but because he is incredibly sure that the two of you are soulmates. On the same note, there's absolutely no reason for you to worry either, while he might have been a bit of a flirt before, it all stopped the moment he took interest in you. Also, everybody knows that you belong to each other, and not just because the entire Resistance was invited to your wedding, but because Poe's absolute favourite topic of conversation is you. And if you're wondering, BB-8 was both the ring bearer and the flower girl at your wedding.
Speaking of rings, being a pilot Poe can't wear his on his finger, not that he would have anyway, when it looks so perfect on the same necklace that holds his mother's ring, right in front of it, with your name carved on the inside on display.
-Poe, as I've said before, is pretty much a hopeless romantic, so domestic life is definitely right up his alley. He knows how to cook, and he does so rather well, and with as happy as he is to prepare you homemade candlelit dinners, he attunes himself to your taste so much he could very well be considered your personal five stars chef. With Poe’s positive attitude towards pretty much anything, chores are definitely not something to be dreaded in your house. Stopping to dance and sing at some point or another is basically a requirement, and pillow fights are far more common than they should be for high ranking members of the Resistance, but it's so fun and lighthearted that time will run by just as fast as if you were out on a date.
Poe would love nothing more than to start a family with you, but you're both still young, and he is in no rush. Ideally, the two of you won't have to wait too long until your victory will once again bring stability to the Galaxy, and you could settle down on a beautiful planet (Yavin 4 sounds great to him) where you'd have all the stability needed to raise your children.
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deancrowleycas · 10 months
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Purcon Panel: Misha is talking a lot about Destiel and the relationship between fandom and the production right now. Like a super long answer. When he first started he was talking openly about Destiel because he didn't know it was taboo, and when he got told "we don't do this here" he wanted to break the taboo anyways. He also said he was always playfully interested in Destiel but also that he repressed some of his feelings about it at first. When Robert Berens came to him in s15 he was like "we can do that?". He also mentioned how awesome it is that he is now on a show with not just straight white cis men (basically) and that it is normal to have gay or trans characters. Sorry he really gave a lengthy answer but I tried to summarize it as best as I could. He added in the end:
"We could have done more and we could have been more inclusive but I was glad that we made it as far as we did"
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freelancearsonist · 2 months
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Whole
Steve Harrington x fem!Reader
Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection
7,470 Words
A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤
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Steve’s not sure how it even worked.
He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.
Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.
Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.
And now, he's a little bit in over his head.
Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.
It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.
He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?
One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.
“Just can’t stay away, can you?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”
“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”
Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.
Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.
“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”
“I’ve got a date.”
And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.
Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?
When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.
“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”
Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.
“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”
Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?
But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.
And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.
“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”
“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.
“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”
Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.
“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.
“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”
Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?
And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.
That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.
By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.
To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.
And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.
He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.
And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.
He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.
“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”
The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.
“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”
“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.
The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.
The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.
“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.
“I don’t want this to be over yet.”
Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.
“I don’t either.”
Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.
It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.
You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.
“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.
You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.
Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”
Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.
He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”
You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.
He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”
He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.
“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”
“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”
You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.
“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”
You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.
You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.
Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Steve.”
Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.
He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.
It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.
It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.
He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.
“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.
It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.
Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.
“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.
It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.
But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.
This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.
He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.
“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.
“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.
It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”
“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.
He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”
You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”
“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”
That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”
His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.
“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”
Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.
Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.
You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.
You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.
You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”
“No?”
“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.
“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.
“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”
“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.
“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”
“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”
“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”
He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.
“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 
~~~
“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.
“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”
“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.
“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”
She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”
She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.
“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”
The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.
“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”
“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”
“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”
Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”
Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”
“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”
He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”
You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.
“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”
His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 
“I’ve never been freer.”
Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.
You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.
“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.
“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”
“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”
“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”
He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.
“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.
“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”
He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”
“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.
“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.
He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.
He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.
There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.
Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.
He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.
He can handle action.
There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.
He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.
He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.
But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.
Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”
Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.
“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”
Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.
Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.
“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”
Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.
In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”
He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 
For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.
“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”
He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”
Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 
“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.
“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.
“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.
“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.
There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.
He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.
You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.
You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.
You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.
“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.
He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.
He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.
Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.
Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.
He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.
There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.
Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.
His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.
It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.
You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 
You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.
“I love you, Steve Harrington.”
“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.
THE END
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simon riley brainrot
simon riley x reader
a shitty Simon Riley brainrot about sitting next to him on a plane from someone who has literally never played Call of Duty—just likes big dudes in masks.
tw: reader's hair is long and braidable, I think reader is gender neutral, reader is smaller than Simon, allusions to sex not proofread, i have zero context about Call of Duty besides clips of cutscenes and fics on here—nor do i plan on educating myself about it.
this is just dumb fluff bc i am on planes a lot!
masterlist
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Simon had expected the flight from New York to London to be a painful seven hours. Of course, that was before he saw you. You were a pretty thing, tired eyes and hair messily braided with a roller bag and backpack in tow. He was all too aware of the empty seat next to him as he watched you scan the numbers on the overhead compartments. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde mop of hair, a subconscious attempt to look presentable.
Your eyes lit up with recognition as you deciphered the text just above his head. His heart nearly stopped beating when your gaze dropped to meet his, a polite smile on your face as you pointed to the empty seat. 
He was bumbling and awkward when he pulled himself to stand. You didn’t even seem to mind as Simon towered over you, broad shoulders consuming the small aisle. The movement with your carry-on was clumsy, your hands didn’t have a good grip on the hard-shell bag as you maneuvered it. 
Taking the opportunity to be acknowledged by you again, he grabbed one of the handles of the bag and steadied it into the overhead compartment. You breathed your thanks, fixing your pretty gaze up at him for a moment before ducking into the middle seat. 
If he didn’t have a black medical mask on, he was sure you would’ve seen his lips part and his cheeks color. He shook his head to pull himself back together as he sat down next to you. He was a fucking lieutenant, for gods sake. He’d killed people with his bare hands, but he found you to be down right intimidating. Your soft words and the knit cardigan you wore were from a delicate world he had never been privy to before. 
He took up an embarrassing amount of space, far too big of a man for economy seats and having no clue what to do with himself. His arm and shoulder pressed into your space, his knee jutting against your seat-back pocket. You crossed your legs at the ankle, courteously acquiescing your armrest to him with a sheepish smile. As though you were the one inconveniencing him.
“Sorry, I take up a lot of space,” he muttered to you, already cursing himself for saying something so idiotic.
Nevertheless, you smiled warmly. Your head tilted toward his, the fluorescent lights only making your exhaustion more apparent. “S’okay, it’s a tight squeeze,” you said, your voice so sweet and kind that Simon didn’t even know how to answer you. 
He just balked at you for a moment, mind wandering to what else could be a tight squeeze. He could only imagine what your soft lips would feel like around his—God, he needed to get a grip. He grunted an agreement before looking at the flight attendant as they started the safety protocols.
He’d managed to stop thinking about you at his side, getting sucked into whatever stupid movie was playing on the embedded TV screens. That is, until he felt a gentle press on his shoulder. 
Simon looked down and to the left through the darkness, seeing your sleeping face illuminated in the rapidly changing colors of the action scene in the movie. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, an e-reader still loosely pinched between your fingers on your lap. Messy strands of your hair were falling across your forehead and cheeks, slow and deep breaths making your chest rise and fall.
Simon stilled, the sinking feeling of being a bull in a china shop settling over him. His heart pounded in his chest despite his sudden anxiety being completely unfounded—he was a sniper, his entire career was built on holding position for lengthy amounts of time. 
But here you were, the little rabbit cuddling up to the wolf—and the wolf was terrified to misstep.
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jahayla-parker · 2 months
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Hi!! I love your work SO much! I wanted to ask for a Jeremiah Fisher x Fem!Reader (established relationship) lengthy imagine. I want the skinny dipping scene from start to finish with the clothes stealing and stuff. I want the reader to call Jeremiah shaking, sniffling, with tears in her eyes. Then the brothers come and the girls get changed, Taylor and Belly go with Conrad and when they leave Reader has a pain attack and Jeremiah comforts her. Sorry if this is a lot to ask. Love ur writing! Ty!
Rescue Me : Jeremiah Fisher x Reader
Descr: 6.3k wc, y/n is with Belly and Taylor when the other Deb girls steal their clothes while everyone was skinny dipping, leaving her to rely on her boyfriend Jeremiah Fisher to come to her rescue. Hurt comfort, slight angst to fluff
Warnings: Skinny dipping, stealing clothes, fake/mean people, crying, anxiety, betrayal, mentions of being naked (no smut or spicy content), relationship components and such, & cursing. Let me know if I missed anything!
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“Put a finger down if you've ever made out with two people within 24 hours of each other,” Taylor said, glancing around at the group of girls.
Gigi, Nicole, and Taylor all lowered a finger as instructed. The girls were circled around the deck of a large boat, hanging out and getting to know each other. It was fairly late but the warm summer weather kept the evening air at Hopper’s Cove still comfortable for now.
After she finished laughing, one of Belly’s debutante friends spoke up. “Okay, put a finger down if you've ever used a stuffed animal to...” she trailed off. “… you know,” the girl concluded boldly.
“His name was Harry Bear Styles,” Taylor defended, putting another finger down.
The girls all laughed as they debated if Taylor having had a name for the bear was normal.
Y/n leaned back against the side of the boat as she took in the way the moonlight reflected on the water beside them. It was a peaceful scene.
“Okay, put a finger down if you've ever had sex.”
“If you've ever been to third?”
“Put a finger down if you've ever gone to second.”
The questions came one after another, hardly enough time for anyone to even comply with the instructions for the first one before the next came. Y/n noticed the way they all seemed directed at Belly, each deb’s eyes staring at her to see if she was putting any down. It wasn’t a surprise to see the debutantes were more interested in Belly’s answers than each other’s; most of them knew each other thoroughly already, but Belly was new to the deb scene. It also came as no surprise that they didn’t seem to care about y/n or Taylor’s answers to their interrogation-like questions; they weren’t debs after all. As far as the girls saw it, Taylor and y/n weren’t even “true” Cousin’s Beach girls since they’d been invited rather than having grown up here.
Y/n and Taylor shared an empathetic expression as the questions weighed in the air. It was clear the debutantes were judging Belly for not having put a finger down to any of the questions. It wasn’t anything Belly should be concerned or ashamed about, much less made to feel that way over. Y/n tried to send the girls a silent look that would make it clear they needed to back off a bit. But, as expected, the debutantes were ignoring y/n completely.
When y/n turned back to look at Taylor, she noticed the look in her eyes. Y/n watched as Taylor silently mouthed “You and Jere?”. She instantly knew what she was getting at. The debutantes were known for having a thing for the Fisher boys; understandably. They also didn’t know y/n well and hadn’t been around her or her and Jeremiah much since they started dating. In fact, it was Belly’s suggestion that y/n get to know these girls better, ideally becoming friend with them, that brought y/n here. Outside of Taylor, the Fishers, and the Conklins, y/n didn’t know anyone in Cousin’s.
The awkward shuffling of Nicole’s feet against the deck of the boat helped y/n refocus on Taylor’s unspoken question. It would be a good change of topic, and Belly clearly could benefit from that. She nodded at Taylor, earning a smile in response.
Taylor smirked as she looked around the boat before side eyeing y/n teasingly. “Put a finger down if you've ever made out with Jeremiah Fisher,” she purred.
When y/n’s ring finger hit the base of her palm, the girls all gasped.
“Wait you two got together?” Dara, one of the debutantes asked, her eyes wide. She leaned forward, arms resting on her legs, visibly intrigued.
The plan had a worked.
“They have been together! Jeremiah has been in love with her for like forever,” Taylor commented happily. As a friend of y/n’s, she’d always been supportive of her healthy relationship with Jeremiah. She shifted her focus across the board and chuckled, “sorry Gigi”.
“No, it’s fine,” Gigi said. Yet, it was clear she was not pleased. She had a newly-present scowl of jealousy on her contoured face. It was no secret she’d long harbored unrequited feelings for the younger Fisher brother.
“I was wondering why he seemed so preoccupied this summer,” Marissa commented, a small smile on her lips.
“And it explains why he’s always staring off at the y/job/station,” Gigi acknowledged, forcing a kind expression to take over her face.
Y/n bashfully bit her lip as she gazed down at her lap. Y/job/station was where y/n had been working for the summer since she needed some extra income and everyone seemed to have some obligation to attend to. She knew her working there was the main reason her boyfriend Jeremiah had decided to actually work this summer instead of just relaxing. He’d said so himself when teasing her about how she wasn’t letting him skate by on his father’s finances anymore. But, had he really been staring over at her while she was working? There was no reason for Gigi to lie about it. And her jealousy about Jeremiah allegedly staring at y/n was blatantly obvious. So, it must be true.
The girls laughed loudly at y/n’s bashful reaction. “You’ve made out with him and this is what flusters you?” Marissa joked lightly, her polite smile showing that she was teasing. The question made y/n even more bashful, only igniting the innocent giggles further.
“So, you’re with Jeremiah?” Nicole asked, redirecting the conversation.
Y/n nodded with a proud smile. “Yeah, we’ve been together for awhile,” she answered softly.
Nicole hummed. She tilted her head as her eyes focused on y/n. “So, you’re probably pretty close to Conrad too then, yeah?” She inquired.
“We’ve all been friends for years,” Belly spoke up as y/n questioningly looked over at Taylor.
Nicole smiled sympathetically at Belly. “Right, but you can’t seem to get a solid answer out of him for me,” she pointed out, not knowing how badly it stung the newest debutante. Nicole shifted her attention back to y/n.
“I’m sorry?” Y/n asked, not caring for how drastically the tone had changed. Or the way Nicole’s interview of her prompted all the debutantes to silence as they visibly waited in anticipation for her answer. She felt Taylor shift closer to her, making her look her way briefly before facing Nicole again.
“Do you think he’s, Conrad, is actually into me,… or?” Nicole asked directly. Her face displayed her embarrassment over having to ask such a thing, especially to someone she barely knew. But, the hopeful look in her eyes simultaneously showed why she wanted to ask.
Y/n swallowed thickly as she mentally reminded herself not to look over at Belly instinctively. “Oh, uh.. I don’t..” she rambled. She slowly glanced at each of the girls and their eager eyes. “I’m sorry… “ she began in a soft shy tone. “I don’t really know those details of Conrad’s life,” y/n said, praying it was enough to stop further questioning.
“Conrad’s a closed book,” Taylor stated with a forced airy laugh.
Nicole signed but nodded.
“Enough about the Fisher boys,” Taylor decided. Her last topic change hadn’t gone the way she wanted. It was time to try again. “Put a finger down if you’ve ever been skinny dipping,” she instructed, lowering a finger as she met Nicole’s stare.
Y/n let out a tiny sigh of relief as the topic successfully changed, Nicole putting a finger down.
“Put a finger down if you've ever gone skinny-dipping at Hopper's Cove,” Nicole amended, holding eye contact with Taylor.
“Is that a dare?” Taylor laughed.
“Absolutely,” Nicole smirked playfully. She turned to see the water outside their boat. “Let’s go,” she hummed, rising from her seat.
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“Oh, my God, I knew my boy'd rally!” Steven screamed when Jeremiah showed up to the party.
Jeremiah had been at home upset that y/n had chosen to go out with the girls instead of spending the night with him tonight. But, after thinking it through, and Susannah lovingly scolding him, he got over himself. And what better way to kill time than a party?!
Jeremiah cheered as he dried the dribble of alcohol on his lips. “It's an ice luge! Come try it! Steven, come on!”
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“I was so worried it would be freezing,” y/n admitted. She tilted her head back to let the water soak her hair again. “But, it’s not that bad!” She laughed.
Nicole nodded and smiled at y/n. “I know, right?!” She agreed excitedly. “It feels nice actually,” the deb stated confidently.
Taylor stated her agreement and Belly simply nodded before splashing around. The girls’ laughter rang out through the moonlight atmosphere as they continued to enjoy their night.
Gigi jogged down the dock. She began removing her shirt as she laughed at Nicole’s shock of being hit by an unexpected splash from Taylor. “Hey, watch out for jellyfish,” Gigi commented, setting her top next to the other girls’ clothing a foot from the edge of the dock. “I do not want to have to pee on any of you guys.”
Belly laughed loudly. “Ewww,” she gushed, shaking her head.
“The other two girls missed out,” Taylor attested. Y/n nodded silently as she closed her eyes. She focused on the feeling of the water gently caressing her fully-exposed skin as it glided across her. She extended her neck and rested the back of her head against the top of the waves. Since she was nude under the water, she didn’t bring her body up to fully float on the surface. But, she let her legs and hips become slack, allowing the water to raise them slightly beneath the modesty of the water’s surface.
“I know,” Nicole scoffed. She looked over at Gigi as the girl began to remove her pants, wondering what was taking so long. “I figured Dara wouldn't, but Marissa?” She asked rhetorically.
“Yeah,” Taylor agreed. “That's what I thought,” she explained. She had tried to get a feel and understanding of each of Belly’s new friends. Her analysis lead her to the same expectation that Nicole stated having had.
“Nicole!” Gigi called out. She bent down to see the phone screen better after having heard it beep.
“Yeah?” Nicole replied, starting to swim over to her friend.
“Conrad's texting you,” Gigi informed Nicole after seeing his contact name on the screen.
“Okay, coming!” Nicole smiled. She quickened her strokes as she rushed over to see what the message said.
Y/n opened her eyes to look at Belly to see how she was doing over Conrad texting Nicole this late at night.
“This is so nice,” Belly said absentmindedly as she spun around in the water.
“Have to admit Belly, l like your new friends,” Taylor confessed, looking over at y/n for her feedback.
Y/n smiled softly towards Taylor. She wasn’t sure about the girls just yet. She didn’t care for the way Nicole and Belly were in love with the same guy. Not that it was either of their faults, or anyone’s fault per se. But, it felt pretty clear that if things went down, the girls would instantly side with Nicole over Belly. And y/n worried about that for Belly’s sake. But, she was at least happy Belly was still enjoying her night despite Conrad’s interruptive text.
“I knew you would,” Belly smirked smugly.
“They all seem to have moved on about pestering you about things with you and Conrad,” Taylor stated, having looked at the situation with Nicole much differently than y/n had.
Belly hummed carelessly as she spun back to Taylor and y/n. “Because there’s nothing to move on from, right?” She argued, trying to remind herself to resist getting feelings for Conrad again.
“Right,” Taylor nodded happily.
“They seemed supportive of you and Jeremiah too,” Belly stated, smiling at y/n hopefully. It was clear she wanted y/n to like her new friends the way Taylor did. And she hoped this act of support would encourage that.
“Even Gigi,” Taylor murmured quietly, knowing the girl was not too far behind them. “Whose veins just about exploded when she heard,” she added comically.
Y/n giggled and nodded, having seen Gigi’s comical reaction as well. She glanced over towards the dock to see where said girl was, only to not see anyone there. “Uh, guys…-,” y/n began quietly. However, she was cut off when the headlights from Nicole’s car flashed across the water the three of them were still in. She squinted and saw Nicole was driving and Gigi was in the passenger seat. The car had been started and before y/n could even find the words to communicate her observations, the car began to back out.
“I knew they were bitches!” Taylor huffed. She spun sharply, sending waves outwards from her body. She quickly began swimming to the dock.
“What's happening?” Belly asked cluelessly. Her head whipped between y/n and Taylor.
“No, no…. No,” Y/n mumbled, getting nervous.
“Taylor, what's going on?” Belly asked again.
“They took everything,” Taylor explained as she leaned her arm on the dock. “Except for your phone,” she noticed. She picked up the device and realized why Nicole and Gigi had abandoned them. “Which has a really incriminating text from Conrad.”
“Wait, what does it say?” Belly questioned, voice dripping with intrigue.
Y/n hurriedly swam over to the dock. Her wide eyes scanned around them to try to find something they could use to wear home. The girls may have taken all of their clothes and y/n’s phone, but that didn’t mean it was time to give up. There surely had to be a way out of this with some dignity still in tact.
"My mom did ask me to ask you to the ball, but that's not why I did it,” Taylor read aloud. The mocking tone of her voice expressed her sentiments over the text from Conrad. “I did it because I wanted to,” she finished, rolling her eyes.
“Oh my God,” Belly grinned, resting her forearms on the edge of the wooden dock.
“Belly, concentrate,” Taylor scolded. After having seen the look on y/n’s face from her position behind Belly, Taylor frowned. “Y/n, you good?” She asked worriedly.
“Mmmhm,” y/n hummed falsely. “Just thinking about how screwed we are,” she concluded with a loud sigh.
Belly distractedly giggled gleefully as she stared off into the dark sky.
Taylor huffed in annoyance and smacked Belly’s arm.
“What? What? Okay, okay okay, w-well wha-what do we do?” Belly asked after seeing Taylor’s scolding glare.
“I mean, we cannot walk home naked,” y/n pointed out. They were stuck. She couldn’t call anyone without her phone. And they couldn’t walk anywhere without even the tiniest scrap of clothing to wear.
“It could be worse,” Taylor argued hesitantly.
“Taylor,” Belly groaned as she and y/n stared at Taylor in disagreement.
“We’re going,” Taylor determined. She removed herself from the edge of the dock as she prepared to turn and swim to shore.
“What could be worse than this?” Belly rhetorically asked with a loud huff.
“Wait!” Y/n gasped, her eyes landing on a thin layer of material beside the boat they’d been on earlier. It wasn’t ideal, but the large fabric that had been used as a boat cover would make do. “W-what about that?” She asked, pointing over at the dirt covered material beside the abandoned boat.
“Noo,” Taylor whined in a high-pitched voice.
Belly shook her head. “It’s better than being naked,” she said in agreement with y/n. “Let’s do it”.
Y/n bit her lip anxiously when another loud dog began to bark as she, Belly, and Taylor wandered down the dimly lit street. At this point she’d lost count of how many dogs they’d encountered. Yet, each sudden noise had y/n’s nerves soaring.
The trio was huddled together under the dingy and slightly stinky boat cover. Thanks to Nicole and Gigi, they had to walk barefoot down the roughly paved road. The breeze from the late night air had managed to snake its way under and/or through their makeshift coverage so they had curled in on themselves along the way.
“This is so bad. This is bad,” Y/n mumured. She continued to scan the area in order to keep an eye out whatever might be happening around them in the dark.
“I knew those girls were shit,” Taylor complained.
“Okay enough,” Belly sighed. “Okay I get it, you were right”.
Taylor suddenly stopped walking, making y/n and Belly turn to face her. “Why can’t we just call Conrad?” She proposed. “He’s the one who got us into this mess,” Taylor commented.
“I agree,” Y/n said, absentmindedly picking at her cuticles. “We are seriously going to be like murdered or kidnapped or something at this rate,” she panicked.
“No,” Belly groaned dramatically. “Calling Conrad would be too much drama,” she argued.
“I can’t walk two more miles,” Taylor whined, trying to cover her shoulders more with the thin fabric.
“Taylor’s right, let me see your phone Belly,” y/n instructed, extending her hand beneath the curtain of material around her. “I’ll call,” she offered.
“No, you’re both going to have to suck it up,” Belly stated firmly.
“Oh my God!” Taylor whined. She shared an exasperated expression with y/n but trudged on.
Y/n’s frame began to shake. She knew it was a mix between her anxiety and the air hitting her wet skin. The other girls had been going on and on about Conrad being a disaster for playing with Belly and Nicole’s feelings. But y/n was focused solely on trying to keep her breathing and heart rate steady. It was getting to be an increasingly harder job as the sound of some angry man could be heard in background of the street they were.
“Belly,” Y/n pleaded. Her voice crackled, and she had to stifle a sob. When Taylor and Belly quickly looked her way, she sniffled. “Please let me call Jeremiah,” she requested. The desire to attempt to stop her oncoming anxiety attack helped her realize that while she didn’t have her own phone she could use Belly’s since she too had Jeremiah’s number saved.
Belly nodded silently and hurriedly passed y/n the phone.
Y/n walked a few steps to the side, unable to truly distance herself from the girls given they had to share the protection of the boat cover. She scrolled through Belly’s contacts until she found his entry and quickly pressed call. As she placed the phone to her ear to wait, her vision began to blur from the tears in them. This was a disaster.
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“Wait, weren’t you out with y/n?” Jeremiah dared to ask the pissed-off-looking Nicole. He was tempted to let her just take his brother aside to talk like she commanded, but he had to know why she wasn’t with y/n and the others anymore.
“I was, she’s still with the girls,” Nicole answered simply. She signaled for Conrad to hurry up. “I just needed to talk to Conrad,” she explained.
Jeremiah sighed in relief now that he knew y/n was still fine and enjoying her night with the girls. He leaned back against the step behind him on the staircase. He tried not to smirk as he watched Conrad reluctantly follow Nicole like a kicked puppy. He loved his brother, but also knew from how much turmoil his brother had been causing Nicole and Belly lately; he had this talk coming.
Conrad and Nicole had just stepped out of the doorway when Jeremiah heard his phone ring as it began to vibrate against his thigh. He lazily reached into his pocket and checked the caller ID. Why was Belly calling? He clicked accept and answered, “hello?”
“J-J… Jere,” y/n whimpered.
Jeremiah’s chest tightened as he heard y/n’s sniffles through the phone. “Woah, babe! Babe, baby, what…” he rambled. He forced himself to take a breath so he could speak coherently. “W-what’s going on? Are you okay?” Jeremiah questioned worriedly.
“N-no,” y/n cried.
“What’s going on Y/n/n? Where are you?” Jeremiah inquired as he jumped up from the stairs and rushed to the door. As he worked his way through the crowd he thought over how much he had to drink. Fortunately had not consumed too much, not enough to keep him from driving safely without having to wait for Conrad -who was the official DD-.
“I…,” y/n choked up, sniffling loudly as she tried to wipe the free-flowing tears from her face. “Jere,” she whimpered, not having heard his voice in a few seconds and her mind too frantic to realize he’d asked her a question.
“I’m here baby,” Jeremiah soothed. “Talk to me, please,” he requested softly.
“I … I need you Jeremiah,” y/n begged. Her hand held the phone painfully tight as her chest shook.
“I’m already on my way to you, babe,” Jeremiah promised lovingly as he started his car. “Just tell me where you are,” he instructed tenderly as he began to back out of his parking spot.
“I… I don’t…,” y/n groaned faintly. “I don’t know,” she confessed shyly.
“O-okay, that’s uhhh.., that’s fine,” Jeremiah reassured as y/n sniffled. “Can you see anything recognizable around you, sweetheart?” He guided.
“N-no,” y/n answered, pointlessly shaking her head. “It… it’s dark,” she explained, her fear ringing out in her words.
“I know,” Jeremiah said as he frowned. The time of day had only added to his worry upon hearing y/n cry as soon he answered the phone. “Tell you what, can you turn location sharing on for Bell’s phone?”
Y/n paused for a moment as a weight in her chest sunk heavily. “Oh, okay, I will, thanks,” she mumbled.
Jeremiah sensed that y/n was planning on hanging up to do as he instructed. He sighed to himself. She clearly wasn’t thinking thoroughly. “Babe, stay on the phone with me, okay?” He advised quickly before she could hang up. “Just put me on speaker while you adjust the settings, yeah?”
“Oh… right,” y/n sniffled. “Duh,” she remarked harshly towards herself as she placed the call on speakerphone.
“Shh, you’re fine y/n/n,” Jeremiah cooed. “You’re doing great.” He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he kept himself from nervously tapping it as he waited. Y/n didn’t need him being in a panicked state as well. She was already struggling. But that was precisely what had Jeremiah so tense and on-edge. He needed to get to his girl.
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Y/n could feel that Belly and Taylor had intentionally sat close to her on either side of her as they sat on the curb. No one said anything. After all, what was there to say? After she’d gotten off the phone with Jeremiah, Belly apologized. Y/n struggled to try to reassure her that it wasn’t Belly’s fault. Thankfully, Taylor caught on to y/n’s intentions and conveyed the message before suggesting they all sit as they waited for Jeremiah to arrive.
Y/n stared at the shrubbery and trees across the road from them. It was barely even visible at this hour. But she found their stillness was slightly calming. Plus, it gave her something to focus on rather than ruminating over the multitude of fears that were screaming inside her mind.
As Jeremiah turned onto the street that Belly’s GPS location showed the girls at, he searched the area that was now lit up by his headlights; in search of y/n. He choked on a gasp as his eyes found her. She was draped in a soiled boat cover, her soaked hair dripping down the front of it, her eyes distant and full of tears, and she was visibly trembling. Whether that was from the cold, her emotions, or something else, Jeremiah wasn’t certain. What he was certain of however was that he should’ve gotten here earlier. Sure y/n had Belly and Taylor with her still. But, she was the only one in tears, the only one shaking. They all looked defeated and embarrassed. Y/n was in far worse shape than they were though.
Jeremiah forced out a choppy exhale as he flung his car door open. He only spared Conrad a minimal glance when his car pulled up beside him. But then his eyes were back on his girl. His far too polite, sometimes overly-trusting, lovingly protective, and all around sweet girl. She didn’t deserve this.
“Shit,” Belly cursed under her breath as she and the other girls looked over to the two sets of headlights. “They’re both here?” She asked Y/n accusatorially.
Y/n shrugged and sniffled. She tried to compose herself enough to state her innocence in this change of events. “I…I only talked to Jere,” she defended weakly.
“Belly,” Taylor scolded sharply, elbowing the girl in the side. “Stop,” she sighed. She offered y/n an apologetic expression on behalf of Belly.
“Oh my God!” Jeremiah exclaimed as he sprinted over. “Y/n, sweetheart, are you okay?” He asked. He shook his head, realizing his mistake. Of course she wasn’t okay. “I.. I mean, of course…,” he sighed.
As Taylor and Belly helped y/n stand up with them, he smiled faintly in appreciation. Jeremiah wanted nothing more than to simply hold y/n. To protect her from any further embarrassment, hurt, worry, from anything. But the predicament with their clothing complicated things. The fact the three girls were all sharing a musty old boat cover prevented that from being a viable option right now. Jeremiah used the minimal light of his headlights to scan y/n as much as he could in the dark. He stepped closer and cupped her cheek, tenderly drying a few tears with his thumb.
“What are you doing here?” Taylor sassed. She squinted at Conrad as he approached with a bag of clothes in his right hand.
“Nicole…. Uhhh…” Conrad began cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.
Jeremiah moved his hands to y/n’s shoulders. He respectfully made sure his hands didn’t touch any of her exposed skin and instead remained on the loosely wrapped boat cover excess that pooled there. He searched her eyes worriedly as he watched her turn her gaze to Conrad, seemingly wanting to know his answer as well. Jeremiah hummed softly as he craned his neck to look over at his brother.
Conrad glanced around at everyone as they stared at him expectantly. “She told me about ummm…and…,” he mumbled as he waved his hand around towards the girls.
Jeremiah narrowed his eyes at Conrad in question. He still hadn’t heard why the girls were stranded. All y/n said when asking him to come was that she needed him. Even after vying a bit for more information on his drive here, she’d only mentioned their group went skinny dipping and the three of them lost their clothes. He didn’t know where the other girls were, if they’d had their clothes taken too, or what Conrad had to do with all of this. But, the fact Nicole had been so pissed when showing up at the party and the fact Conrad had a bag of what seemed to be the girls’ clothes was damning evidence of a plausible explanation. But Jeremiah couldn’t focus on that right now. He certainly would later. Whoever all was behind making y/n this distraught would certainly be in for it soon. But for now, he needed to simply be there for her.
Jeremiah frowned, his brows furrowed. Y/n’s eyes weren’t on Conrad anymore, but her gaze was distant again. Her shoulders shook under the boat cover beneath his hands. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, moving one hand to her cheek. “Can you look at me?” Not getting anything in response, he tried again. “Y/n, just focus on me okay? I need you to talk to me, please”.
Taylor sighed softly. “It’s been a long night, Jeremiah,” she informed him, not caring to jokingly mispronounce his name the way she normally would. “Can you both just…?” She asked, looking between the boys.
Jeremiah nodded in understanding. He accepted the corner of the cover that Belly passed his way. He nodded his head at Conrad to signal for him to do the same with the other corner. He tried to steady his breathing and calm his anger so that when y/n was done, he could be there for her. He heard the girls stumbling around behind him and Conrad as they tried to dress.
Conrad glanced nervously over at his brother with a shy remorseful expression. He nearly winced when he was met with a hesitant but sharp glare as Jeremiah shook his head.
“You’re so not going with Conrad, right?” Taylor quietly asked Belly, her tone coated in a manner that showed she was instructing Belly rather than asking.
“Taylor,” Belly whispered. When Taylor looked her way, she nodded her head towards y/n as the girl stumbled while she worked to dress herself with shaking hands and presumably cloudy vision from her tear-filled eyes.
Taylor frowned; she felt horrible for y/n. She knew how bad her anxiety had been tonight. She nodded. “Fine, Conrad it is,” Taylor agreed.
“Wh-what?” Y/n asked, feeling eyes on her.
“Nothing,” Taylor smiled softly. “Just saying we’re going with Conrad,” she answered, helping hold y/n steady as she tried putting her shoes on. “You just let your boy take care of you, yeah?” She encouraged.
“Th-tha-thank-,” y/n began, sniffling as she tried to paste on a small smile for her friend.
“‘Course, girl,” Taylor hummed as she squeezed y/n’s clothed shoulder supportively. Seeing that they were all dressed now, she smiled at the girls and nodded for them to turn around. “Okay,” she said, no longer whispering between the girls, this time intending for the boys to hear her so they knew they could lower the cover and face them again.
Jeremiah quickly dropped his side of the fabric and spun around. Once he was facing the girls, he brought his hands up and cupped y/n’s face tenderly. His thumbs delicately swiped away her falling tears as he listened closely to her breathing pattern. “You’re okay, you’re safe sweetheart,” he promised.
Taylor smiled softly. “Take good care of my girl, Fisher,” she encouraged as she and Belly walked towards Conrad’s car.
“C’mere baby girl,” Jeremiah cooed, lowering his hands and opening his arms up for y/n. He squinted when she didn’t move to enter his embrace. “Y/n/n?” He asked.
“Are you mad at me?” Y/n whimpered.
“What?” Jeremiah ask, voice ringing with the sound of his disbelief. “Why in the world would I be mad at you?”
Y/n didn’t respond. She just sniffled and stared at her feet. Her sternum bounced as she tried to keep from breaking into a crying fit.
“You know this isn’t your fault,” Jeremiah murmured, “right?”
Y/n slowly nodded. “B-but I.. I..,” she protested vaguely, her breathing becoming more erratic.
“Aye, aye, aye, breathe,” Jeremiah instructed softly, taking y/n’s shaking hands in his. “Take a breath, love”.
Y/n sniffled as she unconsciously squeezed Jeremiah’s hands as she tensed. “I.. chose to spend time with them instead of-,” she mumbled.
“Ahh,” Jeremiah whispered to himself in realization. She was worrying about how they had a small disagreement over their plans for tonight. “Nah, nah, no, shhh,” he soothed. He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “That doesn’t matter,” Jeremiah promised warmly.
“Jere-,” y/n protested.
“No babe,” Jeremiah said as he shook his head. “You haven’t had much girl time lately, I just got jealous of sharing your time, and you,” he blushed.
Y/n smiled weakly but genuinely. “But…,” she continued, her racing thoughts having taken over her mind by now. “S-still I … I left to see them, and then had to interrupt your night, and-”.
Jeremiah curled the left corner of his mouth towards as he gazed lovingly at y/n. “You can interrupt my night any time y/n/n, you know that. I don’t mind,” he told her.
Y/n sniffled, her eyes slowly finding their way to meet Jeremiah’s gaze. “But I…, it was your day off too, and I,” she hiccuped. “I ruined your evening, and all because I was too naive to-”. .
“Shhh, no. You’re not naive, they’re just mean girls,” Jeremiah defended. He softly pulled y/n’s hands closer to him. “You got caught in Conrad’s mess. I’m so sorry for that, honey, I am,” he frowned.
“Jere, ‘s not your fault,” y/n murmured.
Jeremiah gave y/n a grateful faint smile. “I know, but still, I-” he began.
“No, Jere,” y/n argued. Her breathing picked back up. She didn’t mean to make Jeremiah feel bad over this. She sniffled as she felt her nose run. “It-it’s n-n-,” she rambled.
“Okay, okay,” Jeremiah nodded. He delicately pulled y/n’s shaking body to his chest. “Oh and by the way, Y/n,” he said, her name coated in love. “You could never ruin my evening,” he attested.
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“That’s it,” Jeremiah encouraged. He stared down at y/n as she continued to cling to his shirt. “You’re doing great,” he whispered. They were still on the street that he’d driven to when trying to find her earlier. She’d slipped into a full-blown panic attack moments after the other girls were in Conrad’s car.
“N..no,” y/n argued in a hushed voice. Her grip on the fabric of Jeremiah’s shirt intensified as she tried to catch her breath. “I still c-can’t b-bre-”.
“Yes you can,” Jeremiah promised, brushing y/n’s hair back from her face. It was true. She was breathing… shallowly… but still, she was getting air into her lungs. It was the only positive thing Jeremiah was clinging onto right now. “I wouldn’t dare let you sit here with me like this if you weren’t,” he pointed out warmly.
“F-feel,” y/n whimpered. She shifted off Jeremiah’s lap, the grass under him tickling her leg as she moved. She took hold of one of his hands and lifted it up. She placed his palm over the fabric covering the left side of her upper chest.
Jeremiah frowned as he felt just how fast his girlfriend’s heart was racing. He obviously already knew it was beating faster than normal. But, feeling it himself and seeing how desperate y/n was to make him understand why she felt she couldn’t breathe was a whole other matter. He sighed sympathetically. “Oh baby,” he cooed.
“Just lean on me sweetheart,” Jeremiah instructed when y/n returned to his lap in order to hold onto him again. “I’m here,” he hummed, y/n’s head burying into the crook of his neck, “I’m here”. Jeremiah closed his arms around y/n’s back and held her to him. Maybe if he could hold her tight enough, she’d realize she was safe and secure. He needed her to know that. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. He just wanted her to see that. To believe that.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jeremiah told y/n. He rested his chin on her shoulder, tucking her under him even more. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you baby, I promise,” he declared softly. “You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe,” Jeremiah echoed, listening to the way her breathing calmed in sync with his reassurances.
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“What is it y/n/n?” Jeremiah questioned lovingly as he glanced over at her from the drivers seat. He’d felt her eyes on him and when he looked her way, he saw he’d been correct.
“Just.. Thank you,” y/n answered with a soft smile.
Jeremiah smiled and shook his head. He peaked back at the street to enter the long straight strip of road was still clear. As his eyes once again found y/n, he sighed fondly. “You don’t need to thank me”.
Y/n shrugged and chuckled quietly. She bit her lip bashfully when she saw the way her laugh brought out Jeremiah’s characteristic grin. “I’m thanking you for coming to rescue me, whether you accept it or not,” y/n stated.
Jeremiah chuckled as his eyes playfully widened before looking back at the road. “Was that a threat?” He teased and squeezed y/n’s hand.
“Mmm, if it needed to be,” y/n giggled in defense.
Jeremiah’s smile grew as he listened to y/n’s laughter. “I love you,” he vowed, looking her way as he pulled up to the last stop sign before they were home. He nibbled on his bottom lip with smug giddiness. He was pleased she was feeling much better. But he was truly proud he’d been able to turn her night around and make her smile so excitedly after everything she had been through tonight.
“I love you too, Jere,” y/n hummed, squeezing his hand tightly. “My handsome, bubbly, knight in shining armor,” she complimented, beaming proudly when he blushed. She rested her head calmly against the headrest with a tranquil sigh as Jeremiah pulled in the driveway.
“Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep, hmm?” Jeremiah suggested, putting the car into park. He quickly exited the car and rushed to the passenger side before y/n could exit. “Did you want to sleep in my room tonight?” He offered as he opened the door for her.
Y/n nodded gratefully and let Jeremiah help her out of his car. She leaned against him as he wrapped himself around her from the side to walk with her. She yawned and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Y/n smiled up at Jeremiah when she felt him kiss the top of her head as he opened the door to the beach house. She was home and safe. Not just because they’d made it back to Susannah’s house. But because she had Jeremiah, because she was in his arms, guarded by his protective love and affection.
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dev1lm4n · 1 year
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winter coat
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read pt. 2 offering here!
pairing: jackson-era!joel miller x f!reader
summary: in which you gave a blowjob to trade for a winter coat back in the dark days, little do you know, that same guy is now your neighbor.
warnings: explicit (18+), details of blowjob, prostitution, unspecified age gap.
word count: 1.3k
notes: this is my first time writing a proper fic so im so sorry if i fucked things up ^^
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The last time you saw that man was from a rather precarious point of view. A sight in which only a selected few could indulge in, perhaps several of his actual lovers from the old world and a line of nameless whores from the new world. You in particular fall in the nameless whores category, which sounds faintly depressing if you were to go into detail, but it's not the worst thing per say. You'd say that it's a fair trade for a winter coat.
An incredibly warm winter coat that's fucking lined with actual padding and not the shitty fraying kind either. To add on to that, it comes in a pretty periwinkle shade. Frigid temperatures, brisk winds, and snow wouldn't be as agonizing with the new addition. It's not a terrible view either, especially if you were to focus more on the little things happening all around you in contrast to the elephant in the room.
Your blown out pupils somehow managed to make out the figure that's standing in front of you, hazily focusing on one thing before searching for another to be interested in. First point of interest being the beads of sweat that's dribbling down his jugular vein, following each and every curves of his clavicle until it dipped all the way down his sun-kissed skin and onto the thick of his flannel. He's always wearing flannels. You're not sure if that's some sort of fashion choice he made or if it's just a consequence to the fucked up new world order.
Either way, your interest made it's way upwards towards the scruff patch right around his jaw. Right underneath the thin line of grimace he wore. How he bit his curved lip, sandwiching it between his canines before letting out what seems to be a deep groan. Was it of blissful pleasure or of annoyance that you weren't enveloping his cock further than he desired? You couldn't decide just yet when your glossy eyes flickered towards his eyes.
His gaze was penetrating the air all around you, if that was even possible to begin with. It's dull and tired as if he hadn't slept for days on end. Crow's feets provided what you felt was a sweet decoration on each corners of his half-lidded eyes. He's furrowing, the small wrinkles between his eyebrows and the broader ones on his forehead scrunched up just the right amount. You'd chalk up that he's a lot older than you. Probably has seen how jolly life was like before humanity went under. You were having the time of your life scrutinizing his every delectable features when you could feel yourself being pushed even further against the thick of his cock.
Enough that your nose is grazing right where his shaft ends. Enough to have you breathless and moaning against his warm tip. He's getting rougher and way more sloppy you think. The sloshing noises grew lewd and deafening. A drop of pre-cum trickled down the ends of your gaping lips, smeared onto the polyester of your lengthy shirt. Arousal steamed your vision and clouded your hearing. He was heavy against the base of your tongue, but you're not in any position to complain. Not when you're willingly kneeling for him, letting him fuck your throat with wild abandon, just for you to trade with a nice pair of winter coat.
That man is now standing in front of you once again and you're about to loose it. This time, he's only showing glimpses of his ruggedness from behind a comically large front door. His glare traveled with unnerving thoroughness. Up and down, left to right, as if deciding whether or not you're a threat to the integrity of his house. Everything in your pretty little mind is telling you to bolt out of his front doorstep. Erase the trail that you've left in the chilly white snow. Trade back the flours, eggs, and chocolate you picked up on the market. Forget you've ever thought of showing some odd version of hospitality by baking soft cookies for the new neighbors. But you stood there, frozen.
A puff of air escaped your lips as you opened it ever so slightly to come up with an excuse, to churn up every last bit of your courage to greet him. To greet Joel Miller who you used to whore yourself up to earn a few more ration cards, a few more jackets and socks, or maybe some moonshine to drown your pathetic life with.
He took a step forward, out of the shadow and into an array of orange emitted from the afternoon sun. You thought that perhaps he's decided that you're either pretty enough to entertain or dumb enough not to be a hassle. You couldn't be certain, but he sure has the same ol' grimace accentuating the bows of his lips. God. He even still had those pretty curly locks that came hand in hand with his eyes, even when it's greying on multiple ends. You could even swear that he still had on the same flannel that he used when you blow him for a winter coat. He's still.. handsome no matter how many years passed by. Your homemade cookies shook in its basket as you staggered backwards, maintaining a healthy distance that your pounding heart could tolerate.
Maybe if you rationalize this, things will start being okay. Maybe this situation isn't as bad as you think it is. Maybe.. maybe he forgot who you were. He's dealt with whores of your kind every day of the week, right? You're almost one hundred percent sure that you're not the first and definitely not the last gal to use their bodies as a currency in this fucked up apocalyptic world. So, logically speaking, he shouldn't have remembered any of their faces. He shouldn't have remembered your face.
Unfortunately for you, Joel Miller doesn't work by the logics and he's here calling you out by your real name. It rolled off his tongue like thick honey. Smoothly, but with just enough caution. He used the version that you've only told a handful of people, even when you're in the safe embrace of Jackson. The version that you don't remember telling him, but apparently you did in the midst of doing unspeakable things with him. You were aghasted. Realization hit you like a truck, but what absolutely demolished your sanity was the fact that he remembered even after all these years. He remembered the name of the whore he's fucked.
"Hi," you squeaked out. "Hello," he parroted out an equally dry greeting, almost as if he's mocking how much tension grew between the two. You swallowed the liquid bile that's piling up in your trachea, only then are you able to bring your hand forward to offer a stupid basket of cookies. Stupid because you've done little to none research on who your new neighbors was and thought that chocolate chip cookies were a good gift to a smuggler. Joel Miller was all things at once, but never a cookie guy. "I see you're still wearin' that coat." Joel reached over for the basket you've presented, craddling the stiff handle with his large calloused fingers. You knew exactly what he's talking about.
You're still wearing that damned periwinkle winter coat you traded for. The same one you've sucked his cock for like years ago. You turned pink at the thought, embarassed and mortified. It's not like you didn't get a chance to earn new winter equipments here in Jackson. It's just that nothing ever came close to how soft the padding on this damned coat is. "Yeah." You nodded. "Still warm." That's all you had to offer to him, before you trudged back hastily into your doorstep. Clumsily shutting the door close, while he continued to watch from a distance.
Curious.
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