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kikixreverie · 5 months ago

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Your boys

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Female reader

Summary - The war has been a brutal reality check for you in more ways than one, the first being that life is far more fragile than you thought, and the second that you were deeply in love with not one… but both of your best friends.

Word count - 8k

Warnings - (18+) Smut, threesome, oral sex, handjob, mentions of war and homophobia.

A/N - Hi, im still here kinda. Suffered a pretty rough, year long writers block and then was finally able to edit this one shot I wrote ages ago. I hope you enjoy it and all its filth.

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The half-empty bar rings with laughter and the clinking of glasses as its patrons drown out their sorrows with liquor, a temporary haven for those seeking distraction from the heartlessness they've seen in the past few years. The smoke in the air was thick, but better than what you were used to, the scent of tobacco, not fire out on the field, though it lingers in your nose all the same.

The music, a familiar jazz tune carries through that thickened air, paired with deep laughter from rowdy men trying to ignore the sickening sense of dread they all pretend not to feel. Your attention however, is divided. Humming softly to the tune you can only half remember, your focus stays fixed on him—Bucky Barnes, gazing from afar at his wide, mirthful grin, those blue eyes of his reflecting the low lighting of the bar as he sips at yet another beer.

You watch as Steve walks over to rejoin them, more drinks in his hands which he passes to the surrounding men with a nod, which they each take from him, too distracted with their chatter to thank him. Bucky chuckles, shifting back from the group to say something to Steve, a sly grin gracing his lips, smirking as Steve laughs softly at his joke, sadly too far away for you to be in on it.

You get lost in the sight of the men you've known far longer than you haven't, and have seen sink into themselves more and more in recent years, weathered by war, and yet, beneath the surface, your heart can still manage to find a lesser problem to dwell on—feelings you never even asked for becoming even more known to you the more you watch them, both so pretty. They’d always been pretty.

"Come here often?"

You sigh at the unexpected voice, an instinctual reaction at this point, and regretfully you looked away from the two men, staring down at your glass for a moment before you tilted your head to the left and eyed her with fake annoyance, staring deadpan at the mischievous smirk playing on her red lips. You both know she caught you staring.

You look down at your drink again, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass as you lift it to take another sip and wince, "No, should I?"

Her smirk grows wider, resting her elbow on the sticky bar top. She shrugs, "Depends what you're here for."

You pause for a few seconds, squinting at her as if flicking through the possible reasons to be in this dingy bar, other than an easy escape from the war outside. "Alcohol?" You ask, raising a brow. The only reason you were in this bar would be for Bucky and Steve.

"Ah, well in that case, no. The beer here is watered-down and overpriced." She quips, clinking her glass with yours before taking the seat beside you.

"Oh, that explains it." You respond, sighing dramatically as you take a swig from your glass. Peggy hums softly, her fingertips drifting over the lip of her glass. You can feel her eyes on you, as usual, watching, assessing the situation, and you take a risky glance at her, slightly apprehensive, not looking forward to the way she's going to read you like a goddamn book. "What?"

"Why are you over here, all by yourself?" She asks, her head tilted with curiosity.

You take pause at her question, setting your drink back down with a sigh, gaze drifting back over to the group of men talking loudly with warm grins on their faces, all the happiest you'd seen them in weeks if not months... actually years.

"I don't know, I just needed some time alone I guess." You shrug, which immediately earns you a disbelieving scoff.

"Bullshit, the one thing no sergeant would want at a time like this is to be alone. It's a tough job, we all survive on these rare few moments when we get to feel some resemblance of normal. Now tell me why you're sitting here alone."

You don't respond for a long moment, eyes flicking over to your childhood best friends again, as they often do when you find yourself in any room with them. "I'm just in my head. I can't stop thinking about what could happen... and what will. I just- I wish I could go back just for a moment, just to remember what it was like before everything went to shit. I'm sick of thinking the worst every time it falls quiet."

She listens quietly, then nods, her hand moving to your arm to give a reassuring squeeze, "I think we all understand that feeling."

You nod too, chewing nervously on your lower lip, feeling that sinking feeling like you've ruined the small moment of fun you’d been granted by taking notice of those anxious thoughts. Bucky's hand rests on Steve's shoulder as he talks into his ear, his lips curling up as he laughs through his own words, Steve blushing beside him, shaking his head and looking down at the floor.

"I'd give anything to go back." You whisper, eyes glued to them, thinking about the times Bucky would drag both you and Steve out dancing with him, and Steve would always step on your feet, and then apologise with pink cheeks each time as you reassured him you lost sensation in them two songs ago.

"I'm guessing you're talking about your boys." Responds Peggy and you nod before your eyebrows furrow, turning to her quickly with a confused frown on your face.

"My boys?" You repeat, ignoring how the notion of it makes you feel, because it just sounds completely ridiculous - and yes, they are your boys.

"Yes. I mean, they are your closest friends, aren't they?" She laughs, and you give your sad attempt at a normal laugh back to her.

"Yeah, of course. We've been best friends since we were kids." You say back, cringing at your awkwardness and sipping on your drink to try hide it.

It falls silent for a moment, which was a nice respite to the conversation that was making you anxious enough. Peggy obviously breaks it again. "You miss them."

It wasn't a question, so you don’t answer, just stare down silently at your glass, swallowing the lump in your throat, that anxiety just getting worse, weighing you down onto your seat. You nod because it's true. With how hectic and scary the past few years have been, all three of you have changed in some way, and you've not had time to get to know those differences. You'd barely spoken to them about anything other than mission plans in weeks, everyone just more than eager to win this war and get home.

"Go talk to them, I'm sure they miss you too." Peggy offers softly, patting your shoulder again before giving you a smile. She slips off her chair, finally leaving you with your thoughts, walking across the bar to sit with the howling commandos with a half-empty drink in her hand, saluting the very boys you were just talking about, and you fight to ignore the stupid jealousy you feel when they both return the gesture to the gorgeous woman.

You’re in way over your head.

You’d hate to admit it, but she’s right, you miss them, very, very much. Things haven't been the same since the war started, and you know it'd be naive to think it will ever go back to how it was. You feel that breath-stealing sadness whenever you look at Steve, a feeling you know is mutual for Bucky too. You still don't always recognise him when he's facing away from you, searching in a crowd for a small, delicate Steve that no longer exists, before you remember the beast of a man he'd become and feel a different kind of warm flutter when you see him.

Bucky is different too, quieter, rougher around the edges, darker. You miss that boyish charm of his, the easygoing, easy-loving James Barnes everyone knew. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, but he guards it now, keeps it locked away for safekeeping. He barely spoke for weeks after Steve got him out of that place, barely ate. You haven’t seen him cry in months either, which is somehow much more worrying than if he were to break down into tears each night like a lot of the boys do in secret.

It hurts when you think back to before, a time when the three of you were so close you spent most nights sleeping at each other's houses, a time when your biggest worry was that the neighbours were gossiping about your 'morals', despite how many times Bucky reminded you that the old lady next door's opinion shouldn't matter to you.

But it did. Sometimes even you worried about your 'morals', a socially-expected guilt clouding the thoughts you'd have about them, both of them. It's always been more. A part of you always knew there was a deeper understanding the three of you had for each other, like how soulmates would be described in the romance books you had read, only it couldn't be so easy that you were in love with one of your best friends, it had to be both.

A person sits beside you again, and you roll your eyes with a small smile, turning towards them and expecting it to be Peggy back to drag you over to everybody else, but you quickly drop the expression at the sight of a man you had never seen before, smiling at you as if you'd invited him to sit there.

"Come here often?" The man asks, not sounding the slightest bit ironic, as amusing as that is for you. You hide your laugh behind your almost empty glass, which doesn’t help you one bit seeing as the glass is clear. You resort to biting your cheek when he just stares back expectantly, apparently waiting for you to swoon and faint into his arms.

You shake your head, reminding yourself to definitely not come here often. "No, sorry." You respond, mentally scolding yourself for apologising for no reason, and then scolding yourself for scolding yourself. Can he just fuck off maybe?

"That's okay. Pretty dame like you in a bar like this, you here with anyone?" He sounds like Bucky, you think to yourself, only its not charming one bit when this stranger calls your a ‘dame’. He moves closer to you, his arm almost touching yours, which was immediately enough for you to shift away, feeling uncomfortable and annoyed that he was in your space. You scoff, deciding you've seen far too much to give a shit about upsetting some creepy guy in a bar. You open your mouth to shut him down.

"Yeah, she's with us."

For fucks sake why can't I do the fun part?

You already know it’s Steve's voice, strong with that Brooklyn accent, even stronger with the distaste in his voice. You don’t turn to look at him, still trying to keep the distance between you and the guy who’s staring wide-eyed up at Captain America.

"Maybe go and bother someone else." Bucky adds, moving in behind the guy, his tone much less polite than the Captain's.

The man doesn’t say a word, much to your amusement, just puts his head down and stands, walking away, probably going to find some other poor woman to bother, or nurse a stronger drink and lick his wounds.

They sit either side of you, Bucky's hand moving to your back. "You alright, doll?"

You sigh and nod, rubbing your forehead and smiling softly at him "I'm fine, Buck. You know I could've easily scared him away."

Bucky nods, smirking softly. He's seen you shut down many a guy before the war,

"I know, just making sure."

It falls silent for a moment, Bucky doesn't break eye contact with you and you can't bring yourself to do it for him, his gaze soft and inviting, almost as distracting as the way he wets his lower lip the way he often does.

"Why are you sittin' over here?" Steve asks, and it finally draws you to look away from Bucky, clearing your throat before turning to Steve on your left.

"Just lost in thought I guess." You respond with a shrug, deciding not to disclose the fact that you were lost in thought about them, as per usual.

Steves cheeks remain a little pink and you don’t get why, wondering if he had noticed the weird staring going on between you and Bucky, which only makes you blush just the same in embarrassment.

"Thinking 'bout what, doll?" Bucky presses, his warm breath brushing against your shoulder. You don't let yourself look at him again, staring straight ahead as your stomach flutters with nerves and something else you don't want to think about yet.

You shrug, breathless as Steve inches slightly closer to you too, as if he and Bucky had some nefarious plan to make you want them impossibly more, his shoulder pressing against yours.

"I don't know. Just lost in thought about... how bad the beer is." You say, sheepish at your stupid response, but Steve laughs sweetly, which only makes you smile.

Bucky only hums in response though and you look over at him again, that enticing look in his eyes, "How about we get out of here? Just us three, we can swing it like old times, got a fairly decent bottle of whiskey in my room that's waiting to be drank."

You inhale softly in surprise and excitement. It certainly wouldn't be the first time the three of you had gotten drunk together alone, but it's been a while, and for some reason, it seemed like something different now, something new.

You glance over at Steve to see him waiting for your response, seemingly already aware of Bucky's idea, so you nod, not trusting yourself to speak and not look stupid.

You all leave the bar together after gathering your things, purposefully ignoring the smirk Peggy gives you as you walk past, just wanting to get out of the stuffy bar and away from the noise for a while.

It was a silent taxi ride the whole way back to the hotel you were all currently staying at, though not awkward. You sat between the two men, Bucky's thigh pressed against yours while you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder.

You'd always thought that taxis were fairly spacious until you had to share one with a super-soldier and James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve pays the taxi driver with the best tip he can afford and soon enough you were all piling into Bucky's room.

You sigh when you walk through the door, not giving a second to hesitate to go to the bed, falling forward with another sigh as you stretch out across the mattress, kicking off your uncomfortable shoes and letting them hit the floor with a soft thud. It wasn’t often you had access to an actual bed.

You can hear Bucky and Steve laughing as they take off their jackets, which you didn't have the nerve to watch them do.

"Comfy?" Steve asks, walking over to the small radio on the bedside table and switching through the channels till he found some decent music to have on quietly in the background.

You nod, humming softly and closing your eyes, "You try wearing heels for a whole night only 3 days after getting off the field."

Bucky sits beside you on the bed, looking down at you as you hesitantly peek your eyes open to look at him.

"Can't imagine the pain, doll. Want a foot rub?" He teases, a lopsided smirk playing on lips.

You scoff in response, laughing softly and definitely not considering his most likely joking offer. Instead of putting your sore feet on his lap, you just blush and sit up, shoving at his broad shoulder. "Shut up. Where's that decent whiskey you promised, hm?"

He laughs, picking something up off the floor from beside the bed and holding up a full bottle, passing it to you as he takes a glass from the bedside table near him, holding it out for you to pour the liquid into it.

"Hey guys, I'm gonna go change, then I'll be back, okay?" Says Steve, a smile on his face as he walks back towards the door, and you and James both nod, watching the tall man duck slightly through the doorway and leave room gently shutting the door behind him.

Its comfortably quiet in the hotel room, though the atmosphere slightly different. You sip at the strong-tasting, barely decent whiskey, the liquid burning its way down your throat to settle in your stomach, warm and familiar.

Your gaze again drifts to him, watching over the rim of your glass as Bucky moves to sit against the bed frame after pouring his own drink, shoes kicked to the floor, watching you right back, his head resting against the dark wooden frame, a soft look on his handsome face. A strand of his dark hair falls onto his forehead, and you follow it like an arrow pointing down to the white shirt he's wearing, the top few buttons undone as some sick way to punish you even further.

"You're always so sweet on him." He murmurs quietly, breaking the silence. He doesn’t sound one bit jealous, only fond, his head tilted slightly, his tongue casually dragging across his lower lip.

"Aren't we both?" You tilt your head at him as you ask the question. It feels serious, despite the sweetness of his smile, theres something more hidden in the words, but neither of you are ready to say something like that out loud, the denial comfortable for a moment longer.

He goes quiet again, chewing on his lip as he stares down at the bed sheets, sighing softly. "I guess it's hard not to be. I know he's all tall and macho now," He pauses to huff a laugh, you watching and listening quietly and intently, him looking up to the ceiling as he continues, the smile fading to something softer, "But he's still Stevie."

A hint of a smile pulls at your lips, and you nod, holding your drink up to not spill anything as you shuffle over on your knees to sit beside him against the headboard, huffing softly at the movement, then propping up pillows behind you to be more comfortable as Bucky watches with an amused smile.

"And you're still Buck." You add once you’re settled, looking at his gorgeous face, your chin tilted upwards, and his down. He swallows softly, and you notice the movement of it, his adams apple moving in a distracting way that you swear makes you feel thirsty, so you take another sip of your drink, hoping it will settle the feeling it obviously wont.

"You sure about that?" He asks, his eyes flicking down, watching the whiskey swirl in his glass, lips set in something closer to a frown now. You know he's hurting, even if he hasn't felt ready to confide in you about it yet.

"Very." He looks at you when you say it, and you hold his gaze this time, his stare so intense, eyes so blue, lips so pink.

It takes your dumb, denial-stuck mind a moment longer to realise that you were looking down at his lips and that he was looking at yours at the same time, and there was no actual effort to either of you leaning closer, just a magnetism and a feeling spreading through your chest and butterfly filled stomach that you don’t even question it, don’t think once about the consequences, and technically its Bucky that ends up closing the tiny gap you’d made for him to do so, putting his glass down at the bedside table closest to him as his soft, warm lips make contact, eyes drifting closed,his hand then reaching across you and taking your glass too placing it down.

With his hands free, they move to cup your face, lips moving against yours, the kiss soft and sweet as your fingers drift up to the nape of his neck, his right hand reaching down for your thigh, grabbing flesh and trying to pull you closer as your lips move faster, a realisation that this kiss can’t last forever and you both swear you need it to.

It shifts from sweet and soft, to passionate and fast-moving, an almost desperate feeling urging you to press closer, your lips coaxing Bucky's to open as his hands grip your skin, your hips, waist, thighs. You just want to taste him, just like you'd always dreamed of doing. It barely feels real, but you barely think about it when you slide your tongue against his lips and earn yourself a soft, heated groan in response.

The booze doesn’t matter, you were drunk on him, butterflies in your stomach, heart hammering in your chest, an ache forming between your legs.

You'd never experienced a kiss like this before, never this intense desperation, so needy for more, clutching at eachother and shifting on the bed, breathing against his cheek.

Time is far lost to you both, only warm skin and hot mouths and soft lips, but the noise at the door breaks through the goodness of the moment, and you and Bucky quickly pull away from each other, panting for air as your heart hammers in your chest. Steve stands at the door wide-eyed.

Bucky licks his lips wordlessly as he tries to calm himself down, sighing and pushing his hair back, looking down at the bedsheets.

"Steve?" You ask when he doesn’t say anything, anxiety clouding the heated memory replaying of the kiss, as you wait for any reaction from Steve.

Steve couldn’t look more shocked, unable to look either of you in the eye, standing sheepishly at the door as he flushes pink.

"Sorry." He mutters, reaching for the door handle and making his turn to leave, and your heart lurches, sitting up to stop him, but Bucky speaks up before you can remember what words are.

"Steve." He says softly, and the blonde pauses, looking over at Bucky and waiting to be chastised for entering the room without knocking, but Bucky only offers a small, hesitant smile, "C'mere."

Poor Steve stands frozen for a while, face only getting redder as you and Bucky stare back at him, the image of the two of you kissing, Bucky's hand squeezing your bare thigh under your dress, yours tugging on his hair, its heavy in the forefront of his mind, and it sets something off in his stomach, something he likes the feeling of.

Bucky gesturesfor him to sit on the bed with them and slowly, Steve does.

"I didn't mean to-" Steve begins, but Bucky cut him off and you watch dumbly as he handles the situation.

"It's okay." He assures, falling silent for a moment as he tries to find the words to say what he really wanted to, "We're all friends, right? It shouldn't be awkward."

It’s actually incredibly awkward, but denial was a much easier option, and so you simply avoid eye contact with either of them as you think you’re so good at doing, as you reached over Bucky for your drink again, taking a long sip of the alcohol, focusing on the burn in your throat rather than the ache between your thighs.

"Yeah," Steve responds, sounding as breathless as you feel.

"Maybe-" Bucky stops himself, and you lookover at him, waiting with bated breath for him to say 'Maybe we should just forget it ever happened' but his mind goes elsewhere, "Maybe you two should kiss. You know... make it even."

The tension in the room couldn’t be any thicker, and so completely silent, not a breath between you. You chance a risky glance at Steve and he stares straight at Bucky, mouth agape, eyes wide.

You feel like you need to say something, feel like you’re fighting between your mind, your heart, and your… The nerve builds up quick and words rush out of your mouth, just needing to escape this awkwardness, "Bucky, I don't think Steve would-"

"C'mon, I'm not blind, I see the way you two look at each other. You're telling me neither of you is at least a tiny bit curious what it would be like?" Bucky cuts you off, looking between you and Steve with a raised brow, "Don't feel forced to do anything, of course. Just... I don't know... Think about it?"

Oh, you’re thinking about it, you have been thinking about it, for years, in fact you’re imagining it in way too much detail, but acting on it like this, rather than a random, heated frenzy like with Bucky, is much more nerve-wracking.

Its when you risk a glance at Steve that the doubts starts to slip away slightly. its so painstakingly obvious, the blush on his face, the way he can’t look you in the eye and he seemed just as deep in thought as you. You remind yourself who you're with, though much taller now, he’s still Stevie. Your teeth catch your lip, nerves fading enough that you feel less awkward and more anticipating. It already feels like it's the end of the world anyway, actions tend to feel much less consequential.

"I don't know, Steve..." You start, watching with rising butterflies as he looks over at you, his lips parted, "Maybe he's right."

James grins like you’ve joined the dark side, smirking down at his glass, just listening to you shift into a second devil on Stevie’s shoulder.

"P-pardon?" He almost whispers, and you smile softly, still polite Stevie.

"Maybe we should kiss." You manoeuvre onto your knees, and James wordlessly takes your drink again, placing it back down and inhaling softly, leaning back against the bed frame again and just watching quietly. Steve breathes in, watching you move closer. "Only if you want to, of course." You add for good measure, and Steve gulps, lips parting as he looks over at Bucky, as if for reassurance, Bucky just stares back. You crawl over, settling in front of him, "Do you want to?"

He takes another moment, before softly, he nods, taking a deep breath.

You look into his eyes, scooting close enough for your thigh to touch his, and you reach for his broad shoulders, biting your lip softly. You can’t quite wrap your head around the idea of kissing either of them ever, especially not both... in front of each other in the time span of five minutes... but there’s no room for regret, just you and your boys...

Your hand glides over to his face, holding his jaw softly as you tilt his head down to you, pressing your lips against his.

This kiss was softer, slower. You knew Steve had kissed before, you were the one who heartbreakingly caught him with not one, but two USO girls, but hes certainly not as experienced as Bucky, nervous and shy, so you stay as gentle as possible, not pushing him to go any further than the gentle touch of your lips until he presses for more, tentative, but he follows your lead, his right hand hovering over your waist before he pulls it away, and you kiss him once more before breaking the contact. You can tell how nervous he still is.

The room is still as you and Steve pull away from each other, Steve's focus stuck on you as you sit back slightly, looking over at Bucky, as your lips tingle from the kiss, curious to see his reaction, and the sight of him makes your stomach flip.

He sits rested back against the headboard again, legs splayed out in front of him as he watches the two of you with a clearly lustful gaze, his lower lip caught between his teeth, this dark desperation in his eyes, and its like you can read the dirty thoughts clouding his mind.

You don’t think at all when the words left your mouth, but they do, "Your turn."

Buckys lips part, eyes widening slightly and Steve takes an audible breath from beside you.

"What?" The blonde gulps.

You swallow your nerves again, Bucky was right, he could see the way you and Steve look at each other, because you've always looked at each other that way, just like you and Bucky look at each other, just like Bucky and Steve.

It's something that none of you had ever addressed until now, something you'd never let yourselves act upon, but who cares what people think at this point, who cares where this could lead you. If the war has given anything but trauma to you, it's shown you how fucking fragile life is, how much you'd regret it if you never acted upon these feelings, how much they'd regret it.

"You two should make it even, right?"

Steve stares at you, not letting his gaze drift to Bucky, but Bucky stares right at him, something intense in his eyes, something between realisation and surrender, and its clear that he’s waiting for Steve to reject it, to reject him, to wrinkle his nose at the disgusting notion of a man kissing another man, just as everybody else would do, but Bucky knows that wasn't a fair assumption to make about the golden-hearted man he knows their Stevie to be. He still waits though, preparing himself to have to have to take the rejection.

"I-" Steve starts, the very same worries as Bucky filling his head.

"Steve, aren't you at least a tiny bit curious?" You ask gently, using Bucky's previous words in hopes of lightening the mood slightly, which seems to work when Steve huffs a small laugh, though he gives no response.

You look at Bucky, seeing the heartbreaking disappointment and acceptance in his eyes. You nudge his foot, giving him a soft smile of encouragement when he looks up at you.

He gives you a small smile back, before looking over at Steve, wetting his lips.

"Stevie." He almost whispers his name, and his gaze is soft when it meets Steve’s, "Come here."

Steve decides not to give himself the chance to hesitate, moving towards Bucky before he can think about what he’s doing, and Bucky leans forward to meet him halfway, his palm sliding across his cheek, thumb smoothing along the skin before he closes the space and Bucky and Steve are kissing right in front of you.

Its gentle for a few seconds, hesitant on both parts before Steve’s reaching out, hands clutching the material of Bucky's shirt, pulling him forward, pulling him closer.

Their kiss was rougher, all tongue and teeth and the sight was a lot to try to handle, all you could really do was squeeze your thighs together and enjoy the sight of your two favourite boys, enjoying how eachother kiss.

Bucky detaches his mouth from Steve's to meet your eye, pulling you closer as his hand holds the side of your neck.

He kisses you, open-mouthed and needy as his tongue glides across your lip, steve groaning softly at the sight, his hand once again hovering over the curve of your waist.

"It's okay, Steve." You murmur against Bucky's lips before you pull back to look at Steve, gripping his hand with your own and guiding him to touch you where he had wanted to, "You can touch me. You can touch me anywhere you'd like. Both of you."

"Fuckin’ Christ, doll." Bucky sighs, lips mouthing across your jaw, his head dipping lower to kiss your neck, "You want that huh? Want both of us to touch you?"

You nod as you kiss Steve, Bucky giving you a hickey just below your ear like a goddamn teenager. Bucky makes his way to Steve's neck then, curious to what noises he could pull from Captain America himself, and he chuckles against Steve's neck when he sighs softly into your mouth, as sensitive and worked up as Bucky had always wondered he'd be.

When Bucky and Steve start kissing again, you take the opportunity to catch your breath, sitting back for a moment to watch the way Bucky pushes Steve down against the mattress, everything escalating so quick and yet feeling exactly like the way it should be. He adjusts his hips over Steve, pressing against him, and Steve groans softly, his rising up to meet bucky’s.

You bite your lip at the sight, your hand almost subconsciously sliding between your thighs, applying slight pressure against your underwear as your thighs squeeze together again.

It just feels so right, and your body is reacting like it never has before, all reservations out of the window when you fingers press against your clit ever so slightly, breath catching when Bucky starts talking.

"Y'see that Stevie? Look how desperate our girl is for us. She just has to touch herself, doesn't she? Think we should help her out?" He murmurs, speaking the words into Steve's ear, though saying them loud enough for you to hear them too, and Steve nods quickly, no more hesitation, panting for breath, lips a pretty shade of kissed.

Our girl.

"God, yes." Steve answers.

Their attention turns to you, Bucky with that mischievous, knowing glint in his eye, "Why don't you help her out of that dress, Stevie."

Steve nods, following orders like this was a part of his training, moving closer towards you, more confident though a bit sheepish.

"Go on, honey." You say to him, kissing his jaw as his fingers brush against the zipper at the back of the dress. He somehow manages to unzip you as slow as physically possible, fingers dusting along your back in a way that brings on a shiver. He finally pulls the dress off over your head and Bucky gives a low whistle at the sight of you, their pretty lady just in her undergarments.

Your head tilts back when Bucky leans towards you and kisses your collarbone, the kisses trailing lower and lower until he was kissing across the tops of your breasts. You sigh at the sensation, loving the attention on you but it doesn’t seem vert fair you’re in your bra and panties only and these two were fully dressed. You tug at both Steve and Bucky's shirts until they get the hint and both start pulling them off, Steve's going over his head while you help Bucky undo the buttons on his.

From then on the clothes seem to keep coming, and you chuckle softly as Steve helps Bucky unbuckle his belt and pull his pants off. It doesn't take long before they're both left in only their underwear, and neither you nor Bucky give Steve the chance to blush or second guess anything when you lean towards him, kissing his shoulder and Bucky kissing his lips.

You'd think it would be overwhelming, but god it just feels so right.

You hum as fingers drift across you back to the clasp of your bra, Bucky looking at you, waiting for your permission, which you quickly give, nodding your head breathlessly before he quickly undoes the clasp, helping you out of the straps and then finally pulling the bra away.

"Fu-" Steve stops himself, staring down at your uncovered breasts, your peaked nipples, soft pretty skin, waiting desperately to be touched and he forces himself to close his eyes, convinced for a second that that was it, he was going to come right here and now in his briefs. Bucky chuckles, that cheeky grin on his face as he dips his head and kisses his way across your now bare chest, cupping your left breast gently and mouthing over your nipple, smirking as your fingers thread through his hair, swirling his tongue.

"I think we're corrupting our sweet little Stevie, love," Bucky murmurs, and you hum back at him, looking over at the blonde who sits in amusing deep concentration, trying desperately hard not to lose himself.

"I don't know, Buck. I reckon Stevie's much less innocent than you think. Plus, he's not so little anymore..." You tease, knowing he’s listening, so you reach over, your palm against Steve's thigh, "Why don't you show us, honey? Get out of that head of yours, and come play with me and Buck."

Even Bucky groans at that, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he continues to kiss you with a bit more hunger now.

Steve looks wrecked already, opening his eyes to look down at the two of you, skin against skin, waiting for him to come back to you.

"Why don't you tell us what you want, Steve?" You ask him, moaning softly when Bucky rubs his thumb over one of your nipples.

"I want.." He licks his lips, looking down your body, eyes lingering on the one place you’re still covered, "I want to touch you."

"Then touch me, Stevie." You respond and his hand drifts slowly to your thigh, Bucky still busy paying attention to your chest.

Steve's fingertips brush against the edge of your underwear, looking up at you for reassurance, "Even here?"

You sigh when Bucky grazes his teeth across your skin, tugging on his hair, "Especially there."

"Go on, Steve, I think she's still a bit overdressed," Bucky adds, encouraging him to strip you of your final layer, and Steve does so, feeling his cock throb as your bare pussy comes into view.

You part your legs for him, your inner thighs already showing how wet you are, waiting patiently for someone to finally touch you where you needed most, and when Steve brushes his fingers through your folds, tentatively exploring, nudging against your swollen clit as he did so, you moan openly.

Bucky leans back, looking down at you laid out across the mattress, completely bare beneath them as you lift your hips to meet Steve's hand, needing more pressure. Bucky reaches down for Steve's hand, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as he assists him.

"Touch her right here with more pressure. Make small circles." Bucky directs, and Steve gladly follows the instructions given, watching as you get more and more breathless as he touches you, his fingers getting covered in your slick as you whimper softly, "Just like that, Steve."

Steve bites his lip at Bucky praising him like that, his cock throbbing so hard in his briefs as he focuses on trying to make you feel good, before Bucky takes a hold of Steve's fingers, guiding them lower and lower until they were sliding into you. You gasp softly, head tilting back at the slight relief of no longer being empty, but you’re still no way near full, needing more and more, still, you enjoy this, shifting your hips as Bucky instructs Steve to curl his fingers.

A pretty sounding moan slips from your open mouth when Bucky really starts participating, leaning on one arm as the other hand moves down to you, his thumb almost softly rubbing over your clit, watching in gentle awe and focus as him and Steve’s hands take good care of you, Steve's two fingers fucking into you as Bucky builds a steady rhythm on your clit. It doesn’t take long of the repeated pattern before your hips roll forward unknowingly, getting closer and closer to coming, the heat in your body rising, every nerve tingling... so close.

"James, I'm-- Fuck, Stevie." You moan, enjoying having two names to beg to, feeling your body tighten up as they both continue until you’re over the edge, coming on your best friend's fingers, your body vibrating as they ease you through the strong orgasm, Bucky not stopping until you reach down and gently move his hand away, bordering on overstimulation as your body becomes overly sensitive.

"Holy fuck." Steve murmurs, and Bucky laughs at him, nudging his arm.

"Language." He teases.

"Shut up, punk." Replies Steve, pushing Bucky’s shoulder back. You lay there catching your breath, humming with a gentle smirk as you watch them act so casual after both giving you the best orgasm of your life, so far.

"God, just make out already." You joke, grinning at the two, your body relaxed, and Bucky gives you a look as you sit up.

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you." He nips at your shoulder, and you roll your eyes playfully, enjoying seeing him like this again, the happiest and most like himself you'd seen him in weeks, "Good, thing I'd like that too. Steve?"

Steve looks over at Bucky, nodding and moving closer to him, kissing softly.

You give yourself a moment to gather yourself, catching your breath, relaxing in the afterglow of the first orgasm you’ve had in a while, admiring them for a short while, and then eventually joining them, kissing across Bucky's shoulder, raking your nails through Steve's hair.

"Think Stevie's ever had someone's mouth on him before?" You murmur into Bucky's ear, feeling pride in the sigh he gives in response, pulling away from Steve's mouth, humming against your skin as he leans into you, head laid back against your shoulder, nose tucked against your neck.

Steve just couldn’t stop staring, his erection straining against his underwear, both of you watching him with those eyes. None of it feels quite real, like it’s all too good to be true, yet so much better than he imagined. He groans softly when Bucky moves his hand down, watching him as he presses his palm against his cock over the fabric.

"How 'bout it, Stevie? Think you could handle someone's mouth on your cock?" God, the words are so obscene, yet so natural as they fall from Bucky’s lips, Steve all but whimpers when the both of you start kissing on his neck, "Ever done that before, Steve?"

He shakes his head, hands reaching to touch both of them in any way he can, "God, please."

"Not God, angel." Bucky starts, the pet name rolling off his lips, smooth as butter, sweet as honey, "Just us."

His briefs were off, his cock springing up when it was finally released from the far too tight confines of his underwear. Bucky leans forward, kissing Steve as he guides him to lay back on the mattress, hovering over him.

The sight couldn’t be more mouth-watering, his cock a deep shade of pink as he leaks pre-cum onto his stomach, so desperate, kissing Bucky back like his life depended on it.

His stomach tightens when you start kissing your way down his chest until you finally reached the tip of his cock, wrapping a hand around the base, kissing the tip, hearing Steve moan into Bucky’s mouth.

You lick along the underside of his shaft, swirling your tongue over the head and liking the salty taste it left you with. Steve’s an utter mess, bucking his hips and squirming beneath you and Bucky when you finally put your mouth around him, no longer having the focus to continue kissing Bucky, instead just letting his head fall back against the pillows, breath laboured and heavy as you start to suck.

"C'mon, sweetheart. You can go deeper than that." Bucky purrs, tilting his head as you look up at him through your lashes, and you pull off of Steve, using your hand to make lazy strokes up and down his cock, shaking your head at the brunette.

"He's so big, Bucky," You bite your lip, and Steve whimpers softly at your compliment, watching as you fake a look of innocence, giving Bucky those doe eyes as you brush your thumb across the tip of Steve's cock. "D'you wanna taste him, Buck?"

Bucky already knows the answer to that, his cock was throbbing at the sight of you and Steve alone, but he glances up to Steve, meeting his distracted gaze and waiting for some sort of permission, which was given almost immediately, Steve frantically nodding his head.

Bucky smirks, winking at you as he adjusts himself on the bed, moving beside you, giving your lips a chaste kiss before lowering his head, your hand still holding his cock for Bucky to enjoy, his tongue circling the head just as you were doing only seconds ago, as you continue to stroke Steve's remaining length while Bucky starts to take him deeper into his mouth.

Steve couldn't hold back on the sounds he’s making, he's never been so vocal, never been so sensitive to touch, but he can’t help himself, Bucky's mouth felt so warm, so wet, and when he opens his blue eyes to look down at the two of you, he know he wont last much longer.

You bend your head down when Bucky comes up for air, tracing your tongue against Steve's cock as you meet Bucky's eye holding his heart-stopping gaze as Bucky started doing the same, both of your mouths on him at the same time.

It’s filthy, an act of sin no doubt you'll never come back from, but you wouldn’t want to anyway, humming when Steve starts panting, his abs constricting, you wrap your lips around the tip, pumping his cock with your hand until his cum filled your mouth, hearing the deep groan that reverberated through his chest as he came.

You swallow as you pulled away and a hand finds its way to your neck, Bucky pulling you closer. “No fair, you’re supposed to share, sweet girl.” He chastises softly, almost pouting, before he closes the gap to capture your lips with his own, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He moans softly at the taste of Steve's cum on your tongue, the pretty sound so perfect on your ears, only reminding you that Bucky was yet to be touched, focusing on yours and Steve's pleasure instead of his own. How very like him.

You rest your hand on his stomach as you kiss him back, gliding your fingers lower and lower until you reach the waistband of the underwear that he was still somehow wearing. You ping the elastic against his skin, smiling into the kiss when he only leaned closer.

He shudders as your hand finally slides past the band, wrapping around his cock and pulling him out. Neither of you made any move to remove his underwear, you both knew he was far too gone, too desperate to wait any longer, so you squeeze the base of his cock, pulling away from the kiss only to look at him.

Hair mussed, light eyes the darkest you'd ever seen them, as he watches every little move you make for him, his lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed pink. He finally looks as wrecked as Steve, who was still getting over the fact that he just came in his best friend's mouth.

You move your hand slowly at first, stomach fluttering with every strangled moan that caught in Bucky's throat, "You're all talk, ain't you Buck?"

"Fuck, doll- please- I need to come." He groans, eyes fluttering shut when you kiss his neck, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, arm wrapping around your waist.

"You look as desperate as our Stevie right now, James." You tease, but still speed up your hand for him, swirling your thumb across the slit to hear his breath hitch in his throat.

Bucky looks over at Steve then, giving a light-hearted scoff at the sight of him rock hard again, stroking slowly at his cock as he enjoys the show in front of him.

"Fuckin' super soldier." Bucky laughs, laying his cheek on your shoulder, groaning softly as his eyes flutter closed.

You can tell how close he is, moving his head to tuck right into the crook of your neck, talking himself away like he tends to do, "Fuck, feels so good, sweetheart. 'M so close- Never felt this good before, doll."

You were used to his nicknames by now, years of him calling you 'doll' more than he used your actual name usually had you rolling your eyes, but now, like this, it makes your stomach flutter.

It wasn't much longer till he was coming onto both of your stomachs, hot spurts painting your skin as Bucky's hips twitched forward with every second he comes, groaning as you continue to stroke him.

Steve follows yet again not long after, and a glance over to him laid against the headboard with his abdomen covered in his own spend has you blushing, never mind the fact that he'd just had his fingers inside you, and his cock in your mouth.

Bucky quickly cleans up your stomach with his discarded shirt, along with his own before he tosses it to Steve with a chuckle.

You’re all glowing, surprised by the complete lack of awkwardness despite all the things that had just happened in Bucky's hotel room. Instead, you all huddle together on the bed, your head laid on Steve's shoulder as Bucky rested his on your stomach, your fingers naturally finding themselves threading through his hair.

"Well, that was fucking amazing," Bucky murmurs, a content smile on his face as he looks over at you and Steve, his arms around your waist.

"Yeah, it was." Steve agrees, moving one of his hands through Bucky's hair too, before draping his arm above your head.

You go quiet for a moment, the afterglow not quite enough to keep the anxiety at bay anymore, "I just wish we'd done this earlier."

They know what you mean, they know what you’re insinuating, and the room falls silent. None of you could deny the dangers, the uncertainty ahead of you, but that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy the time you had up until that moment you’d all have to risk everything again.

"We can't think like that, baby," Bucky speaks first, his voice soft, gentle and yet serious, "I know it's hard not to, but we can't focus on the regrets. If anything, we just need to live the best we can with what we've got... and if I've got you two, I don't need anything else."

You nod, pressing your face into Bucky’s hair, although you can’t see Steve's face, you know that he agrees, his fingers brushing against your arm affectionately.

"Bucky's right. Let's just enjoy this, lord knows we've all been pining for each other for years."

You chuckle softly, having needed this soft moment for a long while, feeling warm and loved between them, hoping they feel it too.

1K notes · View notes

celestie0 · 11 months ago

Text

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach.

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her.

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?”

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.”

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long.

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore.

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you.

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights.

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.”

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you.

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give.

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes.

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong.

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.”

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth.

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck.

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field.

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed.

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead.

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too.

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!”

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before.

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck.

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.”

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.”

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?”

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess.

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that.

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair.

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.”

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.”

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.”

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand. “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry.

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—”

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does.

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.”

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done.

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you.

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look.

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing.

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness.

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing.

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused.

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging.

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist.

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along.

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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stoneexo · 13 days ago

Text

do you picture me, like i picture you?

pairing: sevika x fem reader smut contains: nsfw content!!, degradation, praise, dirty talk, teasing, mocking, cursing (obviously), injuries, bleeding, smoking, drinking, fingering, cunnilingus, tribbing/grinding, mutual pining! premise: on a rainy night after years as silco's top accountant, a knock at your door produces an injured sevika in need of your help. that begs the question— why is she here, why you? as the night goes on, and sevika reveals her true intentions behind coming to see you, you finally realize that the feelings you've had for years might've been reciprocated for longer than you'd think. word count: 7.8k (wtf) author's note: here it is! my first fic! hope you guys like it, and i'm looking forward to feedback! heavily inspired at points by chappel roan's song 'picture you', noticed a particular lack of sweet sevika fics where she isn't just super dom, so this is a very self-indulgent fic lol. god i love me good ol' lesbian PINING!

candlelight kisses your face and dances up the walls of your dingy studio apartment, as well as the papers you hold out in front of you. despite the late hour and strained eyes, you still scanned the numbers in front of you, debts, copying the important ones onto a separate fresh piece of paper to your right. having been silco's main accountant (and only accountant for many years until recently), the work was near never-ending. after all, half of the undercity owed him in some way shape or form. however, with the expansion of his criminal enterprise, his 'financial department', if you could even call it that, had grown. there were others to deal with more minor debts, and your main job was to prioritize those who owed more significant amounts— and decide whose debts had to be collected immediately. you are sifting quietly through papers including just that at the moment, silverroot smoke in your hand and a dirty ashtray at your side, at your small two-person table that's pressed against the wall of your tiny apartment. when a loud knocking (more of a banging) comes from your front door, cutting through the silence.

you nearly jump at the intrusion, looking up to process the noise when it came again in a quick, desperate succession. you shoot up, making your way to the door, both concern and fear washing over you; it was past midnight, who could possibly be here this late? you made sure to grab the metal pipe leaning up against the foot of your bed- this time of night, it was more likely to be a robbery than anyone you actually knew. with your tiny kitchen at the back of the studio, your large bed against one wall, and your table and bathroom entrance on the other, it was no more than a couple of feet to your front door.

however, as you unlocked the door and cracked it open, keeping your deadbolt in place, you felt a chill run down your spine and your eyes met sevika's, pressed up against your doorframe with blood soaking her hands. she didn't need to say a word, barely opening her mouth before you're shutting the door to undo the deadbolt, pulling her inside and relocking the door behind her.

as you lock up, you hear her stumble behind you, turning to find her sat at the foot of your bed on the floor, clutching her bloody stomach. "what the hell is going on?!" you blurt out, your concern evident as you made your way across to her. she glance at the metal pipe, still in your hand. following her gaze in confusion and noticed you were still clutching the deadly weapon before dropping it, kicking it almost sheepishly behind you, refocusing on her. "sorry, can't be too safe." you remark as you knelt down in front of sevika, and she allows you to push her hands aside with a wince to get a better look.

you and sevika had worked closely for nearly a decade— after all, she was the one who collected silco's debts. you told her the who, what, and where. and while initially the two of you had butted heads often, things had changed for the better over the past two or so years. since the first time you laid eyes on sevika, to be honest, lighting up a cigar in the back of the last drop, the light emphasizing the muscles along her arm in just the right way— she had stirred something deep inside you. looking up at you like she was ready to kill you as you introduced yourself, her gaze tracing up are down like she would chew you up at spit you out, reading you as a prissy little know-it-all all despite your polite manner. and she wasn't entirely wrong, with your parents having been well-off topsiders who managed to gamble it all away right around your 17th birthday. but despite that, you had been resilient, managing to sell your mind rather than your body and putting your skill for mathematics to use for various loan sharks and casino barons until silco came seeking your services around your 28th. and despite years of successful and faithful service to silco, and being practically as dedicated to him as sevika, she still seemed to see you as nothing but a spoiled topsider who would run back to the life if given the chance.

however, after about 7 years of working together, an unsuccessful high-value collection in the sump that you had tagged along for to ensure its completion was what finally brought you two closer. mainly because she had saved your ass from nearly getting stabbed by the person you were negotiating with before beating them into a bloody pulp and spitting on them, encouraging you to do the same (you did).

you thanked her, which she had never heard come out of your mouth before, and expressed how you appreciated not only her muscle, but her expertise in reading situations that you seemed to lack, she had to finally admit to herself that she may have misjudged you. from then on, things worked more smoothly between the two of you, with her actually collecting debts and not just beating people senseless when she had a bad day as she used to (which ultimately made your job harder- people can't work to pay debts with broken legs). and you made sure to express your appreciation for her consideration.

you even shared a couple of drinks after successful collections here and there at the last drop if the score was big enough, with her walking you home most times to ensure your safety. after all, even though you could hold your own(which she assured you constantly she knew), "can't take the risk of silco's best accountant getting mugged and stabbed on her way back from the job." she'd insist. and you didn't mind in the slightest the extra time spent with her. once or twice you had considered inviting her in as she stood at your door, wishing you a good night, waiting for you to be locked up and safe before going about her evening. but you had decided against it, after all, while you might've found her secretly attractive for years, she had only just started to tolerate you.

but all that begged the question; why was she here now? you were coworkers, and closer than most in the undercity, sure. but you had never been that close, despite the odd shared drinks and your more private desires. surely she could've gone elsewhere? "here, up on the bed." you order, pulling yourself out of your thoughts as you hook your arms under sevika's to help her up as she half-stands and scoots back from the floor to the bed. "i'm bleeding everywhere, your sheets-" she started, face twisting in pain as she settled. "they're old anyways." you insist, giving the wound one last look over, trying to asses the damage. you cheeks flush even more when you notice a happy trail crawling up her stomach from out of her pants, kissing her stomach and meeting her abs. you had to remind yourself yo be appropriate as you refocused on her wound.

sevika's heart is already racing at a mile per minute as your hand leaves her stomach and her own, large, flesh one covers the oozing wound. it beats impossibly faster, however, when you reach between her legs under your bed and fish out your medical supplies, before you pull out the white plastic container, her cheeks flushed with pain. "I'll ask you again- what is going on?" you reiterate as you fish out a needle, thread, gauze and rubbing alcohol.

"one of smeech's idiot grunts had a bad run gambling with me. thought he could get out of it by pulling a fast one with some of his buddies—" she scoffed, wincing with pain as you pressed an alcohol-soaked wad of gauze to the gaping stab wound, jumping up to grab something from your kitchen as sevika kept her eyes trained on you. "again, he's a fuckin' idiot. jus' made me want to collect more," she growled out, watching as you produced a bottle of some nasty-looking brown liquor, hastily making your way back over to her "i managed to beat three out of four's skulls in, but the last one got a good stab in on me before he ran off."

"shit.." you respond frankly, passing the liquor to her and taking over on the gauze, gently brushing her hand aside as you use the clean side you wipe away what blood is left at the wound. "well, once we're done let me know how much he made off with," you sigh at the thought of more paperwork "i'll add it to the docket."

"drink, by the way. this is going to hurt." you remarked, looking over the wound before holding the gauze in place, the needle cradled in between your front teeth as you use your spare hand to begin to thread it. sevika feels hot each time you touch her, unbearably so. and as she watches you use your mouth to hold the needle and your hand expertly threads it— fuck, she can feel her stomach pool up with something slick that she knows isn't blood. yeah, she needs to drink before she does something stupid, she decides, stuffing the bottle in her mouth and slugging back as much as she can before coughing.

the liquor is definitely old, and definitely nasty. it takes everything in her not to break the bottle with the sheer force of her metal hand as she holds it in a death vice looking down at you. you hold the rag back in place and you gesture for her to take over, sevika obliges stiffly with her free hand. trying to control her racing mind.

you get up one last time as you tie the thread off at the end, still holding the needle in your mouth as you pop into your kitchen again, grabbing a few more candles and a lighter, bringing them back over to sevika's hunched-over form and lighting them as you do so. you set them down around you and grab a pillow from the bed beside her as you do so, setting it on the floor before her before kneeling on it. "you're seriously gonna have to stay still 'vika, lights have been out all night so I don't have the best visual with all this blood." you inform her, gently taking over with the rag as you brush her hand aside, her fingers radiating a deep heat.

she feels sick as you gently pat her down once more, her stomach twisting dangerously as she gazes down at you in front of her. it was a dirty sight she had dreamed of for god knows how long; there you were, in between her legs on your knees, the candlelight dripping off you and kissing every curve as her eyes wandered all over. and good lord, your hair, normally tied up, danced down your shoulders. the strap of your tank top hung off your shoulder comfortably, and the shorts you were wearing rode up your thighs just right— and sevika nearly spat out her last mouthful of liquor on you as you hit a sore spot, wincing away from your touch as you retreated from her carefully.

"sorry," you murmured out, gesturing for her to come back as you shifted nervously "next is the fun part though." she came back to you and looked down at her bottle as you readied yourself, taking note of it's lack of contents— jeez, had she really downed that much that quickly? "happen to have anything else before we start?" she questioned, setting it to the side and looking back down at you, doing her best to avoid eye contact.

you thought momentarily before reaching under your bed once again, fishing around (much to sevika's embarrassment) before pulling out another bottle of clear liquor this time. she raised a brow as you passed it to her and you scoffed, "what?".

"nothin, jus' never took you for the drinking type." sevika replied and she uncorked the, once again, half-drunk bottle, "i mean, half the time the guys gotta twist your arm to stay for drinks at the last drop."

you shrugged as you looked her wound over one last time, feeling only a little sick as you watched the blood ooze out. "helps with sleep." you commented with only a hint of embarrassment, readying yourself against her abdomen. even as you pressed against sevika, her solid form held true, and you felt your cheeks grow hot as it registered you were basically pressed against her crotch as well due to the angle. sevika felt warm too, all over, and she prayed to everything there was that you couldn't feel the pool of wetness growing in her pants as you shifted against her and your fingertips pressed against her sensitive skin, trying to get a better angle before the first stitch.

bringing yourself back as sevika sipped her liquor, you tried to swallow your nerves as you checked in one last time, looking up at her for assurance. as she nodded, you pressed in with the first stitch, fighting the urge to wince as you pressed onwards. sevkia gritted her teeth and fought the urge to jerk away and throw up. sure, she was a bit of a masochist, but the feeling of metal and thread moving through her skin would never be pleasant.

she let out a pained groan, stuffing the bottle in her mouth to keep quiet as you kept on. if she was trying to work you up it would be working, you thought. you feel dizzy this close to her. the best you had gotten up till now as her pulling you pack before you got punched in the face by a particularly upset client, or a hand hovering just off the small of your back as you went up stairs after one too many drinks at the last drop; a polite assurance to accompany your unsure steps. and you had been desperate for something more for a while, a long while.

the sounds leaving her mouth and shifting against you made your stomach hot and heavy, deciding to talk to try and distract your wandering mind. "sorry if the stitching isn't the prettiest, 'm outta practice." you murmur, nearly halfway done already as you tried to limit the pain. it was a little sloppy, but it held tight, with minimal blood seeping through the sections you had finished with.

" 's all good doll," she grunted out, looking down at your work before quickly looking away; the sight of you bent over her was something she was not ready for when her head was this heavy with liquor, "not much pretty down there to begin with." she finished off with a chuckle, deciding to pause on the liquor for a moment as it drew low yet again. she closed her eyes, leaning her head back as she tried to focus on something other than the pain in her abdomen or the heat churning in her stomach. working your way along her wound as delicately as possible, you felt yourself sink deeper into the mood that seemed to have sparked between you two.

'doll'. you felt like a giddy teenager the way your chest fluttered as you shook your head and scoffed lightheartedly in disagreement. sevika cracked an eye open in response, her lips curling up in a slight smirk as she looked down at you. "oh? disagree?" she questioned, seeming almost amused as she shifted to lean back on her arms teasingly despite the pain, watching as you lurched forward to follow, practically laying in her lap now as you struggled to hold the needle up so as to not stab her.

your heart leaped with the jump in intimacy— here was sevika, who before was too disgusted to touch you for the first 7 years, and now seemingly too respectful (afraid?); and now, she was instead trying to coax you into her lap like one of her brothel whores. as far as you knew, despite your attraction, you had always been discreet and kept things professional. and sevika, more importantly, had never showed an ounce of interest beyond the general "i need to make sure you don't die and I don't completely hate you."

for a moment, your mind ran circles around the sudden interest— was this serious? was it a test? if it wasn't, how long had she been interested, and how? were you nothing more than a lay, or—

as sevkia let out another small grunt of pain, you pulled yourself again from your momentary distraction, choosing to shift up in a rather cocky manner. moving up to straddle her as the brown-skinned woman nearly choked at the image of you on top of her, candlelight creating a halo behind your hair and kissing your lips.

the muscular woman struggled not to drool and to keep her free hand at her side, nearly tearing a hole in your sheets as she gripped them tightly (in what you assumed was pain). as you neared the end of the once gaping wound, you glanced down at sevika, surprised to see her watching your hands with an intense, hungry gaze, her face flush and sweat dripping down her forehead as the sound of small rips and tears began to emanate from your sheets where she grabbed at them. you could see she was biting her lip, but not in a pained way, and christ, as you put in the final stitch you swore you could hear her moan.

a sudden sense of power washed over you as it finally occurred to you just how into this she was. you had her hanging (literally) by a thread here, waiting in a surprisingly respectful manner for you to confirm her suspicions and let her make a move. you almost wondered if she would even care about closing up the wound at this point.

but regardless, as you tied off your stitching, you held the still attached needle in your free hand and reached for the bottle sevika still held. her gaze followed you as you drank from it; not making a face as you leaned down to wear the threat connected with her skin as you used your teeth to swiftly get rid of the excess, with her both shivering and wincing as your lips brushed against the freshly stitched and bruised flesh. as you sat back up you saw sevika beneath you, the closest to dumbfounded you had ever seen her as her grey eyes stared wide back at you.

"to answer your question," you began, drawing back to grab the discarded bloody rag from the bed slightly behind you (and oh, sevika loved this angle where you twisted just the right way. it pulled your shirt up your stomach, she could almost see right up it—), and returned to your position with it in hand, turning the bottle over in it and dousing it in what (little) was left of the alcohol. "yes, i disagree." you made sure to look her in the eye, using the playful and slightly flirtatious tone as you tried to somehow convey your sincerity and longing through your tone as her stormy eyes held desperately onto yours.

"you're pretty sevika. like, really pretty. you're beautiful. everywhere." you spoke softly, nearing a whisper towards the end as embarrassment washed over you. before you could gush any further, you stopped yourself by pressing the alcohol-soaked rag against sevika's stitches. she curled up and sucked in a pained breath, instinctively grabbing onto the rag as you moved your hand, holding it in place as you gently shifted off of the bed and her.

sevika's stomach churned once again in a confusing mix of warmth, endearment, horniness and disappointment as you moved off and away from her, turning her head to follow you as you went into your kitchen to produce yet another bottle of alcohol (she now put two and two together that you definitely drink more than she though, just not at work), this time some kind of white wine. she felt bubbly inside, and a different type of deeper warmth radiated from her gut, something she couldn't quite describe. sevika had been called a lot of things; handsome, hot, even a babe here and there; but no one had ever called her pretty. let alone beautiful.

you opted to forgo the glass as you popped the cork, trying to look everywhere as you sipped except sevika's figure as she shifted to sit up. you reached out and slid an abandoned ashtray on your counter closer to you, pulling a forgotten sliverroot spliff from it and lighting it up with a nearby box of matches to try and ease your (now shot) nerves. huffing out a large cloud of smoke, you fought back a cough and any more remarks with the lip of the wine bottle in your mouth.

you felt a twist of disappointment in your stomach as it crossed your mind that this would probably just be another fuck for sevika, if she was interested in the bold advance you just made. after all, you knew all about her trips to the brothel- silco paid for them half the time, hell you had to budget them. and the two of you were close enough to have had talks here and there, on 'work trips' (if you could call them that), or late nights going over debt lists. each time it had made you a little nauseous hearing about the other women she had been with, but regardless, you indulged the conversation simply to indulge her and maybe spend a little more time in her presence.

you drew in another hit from your spliff, trying to clear your head as much as possible with it, only looking up at sevika as she got up, still holding the blood-soaked rag in place. you set down the wine bottle and turned to face her, dumping your spliff in the ashtray as you raised the other to scold her. "you need to sit down for at least a minute and let yourself rest, yo—" you barely managed to get a word out as she made her way across the room to you, quickly closing the small space as she reached out for you, pressing you against your fridge with her large frame as she grabbed onto your waist and leaned in, a gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement.

sevika stopped just short, looming over you, her forehead pressed against yours as she looked down at you, eyes holding intensely onto yours as the two of you panted respectively. your scolding hand was now pressed against her chest, though it made no attempt to hold her back, and after a long moment, her gaze flickered down to your lips and back— a silent but desperate plea for permission. and the moment you began to move in, she crashed against you, nearly knocking your head against the fridge behind you as her lips finally met yours in a messy and heated clash. she held onto you tightly as she pressed into you further, completely forgetting the rag as her metal arm came to your hip, the cool grip feeling nice against your hot skin as a small moan embarrassingly slipped your lips, her tongue slipping past to mingle with yours. she tasted like cigars, and the cheap liquor you had given her, and something else- maybe cinnamon? before you could figure it out, she pulled back for air, and the hand you held on her chest pushed back ever so slightly as you came to your senses.

she immediately drew away and gave you breathing room, face twisting in concern as she loosened her grip on you. "is everything okay?" she nearly gasped out as she tried to catch her breath, desprate to read your expression "did you not—". you quickly shake your head as you avert your gaze, "nono, i did— i do, i do. i've been wanting to do this." you sighed and looked down as your stomach turned and your head pounded "that's not the problem."

sevika took a small step back from you at the mention of a problem, however, she didn't let her hands fall from your hips quite yet, her stomach dropping in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. she wanted to ask what exactly the problem was, but instead found herself waiting for you to speak in silent concern as she could practically see your head spinning with what you wanted to say.

after a long moment, you let out a regret filled sigh, still unable to look her in the eye. "i can't do this if i'm not the only one sevika," you began, trying not to show how sick you felt talking about this. you were sure you must've been pale as a ghost with the way your stomach flipped. "and i know that not fair to ask of you; you're not that kind of person. but i don't think its worth ruining our personal and professional relationship over something that just... just isn't compatible long term." you hated to say it aloud, but the speech you had told yourself a million times left your lips as sevika struggled to process what you were saying.

"i promise its not that i don't want you, i- gods, 'vika, i want to so fuckin bad, i just can't sleep at night knowing i have to share you. it already wrecked me to try and keep track of financing your trips with silco. and i don't want to try and force you to change—" words spilled like bile out of your mouth as you felt your embarrassment and nerves bubble clearly to the surface, unwilling to look up at sevika, staring at the floor until she interrupted you by dropping to the floor on her knees in front of you, making it near impossible to look away.

you finally met her gaze, sure you had some stupid look on your face. but the one on her face was of sad desperation, her hands sliding down ever so slightly to your thighs as she kneeled like a sinner in front of you. "i haven't been to the brothel— i haven't been with anyone in months," she confessed, something serious and level in her tone as she started her ramble; "i can't even think about another woman. don't want to— can't if i wanted to. i don't know what the fuck you did, but whatever it is, it's working doll. 'cause all i can think of with them is you, y'know that? what you'd look like underneath me instead of them." the confession makes your face and core hot, and your heart palpitate more than it was before.

"when i wake up in the morning till i'm laying in bed alone at night, it's you. i can't fuckin focus, i rush to get to work in the morning just so i can see that pretty little face of yours," though the words are sweet, her tone is incensed, drunk on the thought of you and unable to stop talking, like a madwoman preaching her gospel. "and i go home early cause you never wanna stay late and have a drink with me, and i gotta make sure you get home safe, so i go home when you do. and when i go home? all i can think about is what you're doing, if you're thinking of me— if you're thinking of me the way i'm thinking of you. i need you so badly doll."

your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest at the sight of sevika on her knees in front of you as she finally pauses, her intense stare holding you in place as she watches you bite your bottom lip ever so gently. she hardly cares about how worked up it gets her because she wants— no, needs you to know that she cares right now about something more than that, that she cares about you, you, you. all that's been on her mind for the past year had been you. and here you were in front of her looking so ready and sweet and gentle and perfect. as you begin to look to the ground again, she murmurs your name softly. she pulls your gaze back to her; "i didn't come here cause silco was off with jinx, or cause i was 'outta thread, i came here 'cause i missed you, and i needed to see you, and i knew you'd take care of me," she stated, almost as if it were a matter of fact, separation still clear. "'cause you're a good person. not like me— so i understand if you don't trust a word of what i've said tonight. but i swear to you, i swear, that i care about you."

her ramble is only interrupted again by you reaching out for her, and sevika finds herself dumbfounded by how gentle you're still being with her, cupping her face with your hands and gazing down at her as if she were made of glass. and she absolutely lapped up the soft attention— no one in her life had ever handled her as gently as you were now. she fixed her stare on you like a puppy waiting for permission from it's owner, hanging off of your words as you spoke, "i believe you 'vika." your voice was a near whisper and your throat felt tight as you spoke, stomach dancing with unkillable nerves.

"i know you, and i believe you," you continue carefully as she cautiously cupped one of your hands with her flesh one, yours seeming impossibly small in comparison, watching intensely as you bit your lip softly once again. "you don't need to beg." you remarked with a soft breathy laugh, finally managing eye contact and finding her grey gaze to be surprisingly warm for once. but just as quickly as the warmth came, it went, with a sudden shift to something dark and primal as her eyes trailed down your body once again, only stopping at the hem of your shorts.

she looked back up with that same, hungry gaze from before as her lips twisted into that cocky smirk you knew too well, the mechanical hand that gripped your thigh squeezing gently as she turned to kiss the hand that she held, still on her cheek. "let me prove it to you darlin," she murmured through your fingertips before pressing another kiss against them, glancing back down at your waistband as she spoke, "please. promise i'll be gentle."

your face felt hot with embarrassment and at the idea of the offer, but you knew immediately that you weren't going to say no even if you wanted to. how could you? with sevika kissing your hand and holding you so gently, looking up at you like she might eat you up if you tell her otherwise? you didn't know what to do with yourself, and the words felt caught in your throat as all you could manage to do was nod timidly, holding her eye contact as her grin wavered momentarily. " 'm gonna need words, doll." she clarifies, turning her head to face you fully once more as she sets her flesh hand on your thigh once again.

"yes, please 'vika." you spout out, nearly wincing at the over-eager tone leaving your lips. did you really sound like that? sevika's satisfied smile returned as her hands began to slowly creep up towards your waistband, her actions methodical and already teasing in manner. "such good manners darlin" she muttered lowly, pulling at your drawstrings as she leaned in closer, pressing careful, delicate kisses against your stomach as she undid the worn string. they were so light they almost tickled, and as soon as the drawstring was undone, her thumbs were hooked into your waistband, pulling down the old grey plaid pair of shorts as you shivered under her cool metal touch. she left them to pool at your ankles as she finally got to examine what lay underneath, leaning back ever so slightly to soak the sight in. it was nothing special to you, a comfortable grey thong with lace at the top, but to sevika, it was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. as she tentatively licked her lips, she reached up and began to rub you through the fabric using her flesh hand, moving slowly and gently as she glanced up at you through lidded gaze, gauging your response.

the feeling sent a shock through your system, eyes squeezing shut as you cock your head back and swallow a potential whimper. truth be told, you were dedicated to your work, which left little time for affairs like this. it had been too long since you had been touched like this, and as sevika rubbed circles into your clit through the cotton covering it, your whole body felt electric. "shit doll.." you heard sevika murmur out from beneath you, using her metal hand to spread your legs slightly as she studied the damp and darkening fabric between your legs, "you're really putting on a show for me aren't you?" as she slid the panties down your waist, you cracked your eyes open and nearly came at the sight of her— eyes close, sniffing them. you didn't think there could be a filthier sight than this, as she opened her eyes and smirked wickedly at you, tossing the pair haphazardly behind her as she gripped your hips and spun you around, pressing your front half against the cool metal of your fridge.

you fought back a shiver as sevkia spread your legs once again, almost bent over against the fridge as you felt her hot breath against your cunt. you couldn't fight back your noises this time as she played with your entrance, gliding two flesh fingers against it as she sucked in a breath and chuckled. "no need to be quiet darlin', 's not like the rent'll go up over one noisy night..." she teased as you whimpered slightly, glancing between the mess that was your pussy, and your face, as you tried to look back at her.

"unless there's been more than one noisy night," she began, her expression darkening as she pressed into your cunt, starting with one thick finger as you cried out uncontrollably "and you brought some other bitch back here, hmm?" you knew it wasn't an interrogation, but as her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy you couldn't help but rebuke her claims, her voice whiney and hot. "no— no! just you 'vika!" you whimpered out, struggling to get through the sentence as she set a steady and unrelenting pace, holding your weak gaze as you looked over your shoulder at her "only you."

she raised a questioning brow at you, but deep down, she knew you were telling the truth. she had barely touched you, but as she worked steadily on you, adding another finger cautiously as you cried out. there was already that fucked-out look on your face. still, she felt the need to tease. "really, doll? only me?" she mocked, repeating your words back to you in the same tone as she worked her way deeper into your cunt, setting her metal hand on your hip and pressing you into the cool metal in front of you even more so. "yes 'vika, only you— fuck, i haven't had time for this shit in this months," you gasped out, the confession spilling desperately out of your mouth as you began to lose all composure, embarrassment sinking in "even when i did, i only thought about you sevkia." you whimpered her name out sweetly at the end, like a prayer "i'm all yours."

that sent her over the edge; sevkia's face and cunt grew hot as she nearly ripped her fingers out of you, loosing any sense of gentleness when she did so. you swore at the loss as she wrapped her mechanical arm around your waist and swept your legs up with her warm one, man-handling you towards the bed before you had much time to process what was happening.

she laid you the bed more carefully than you expected, making sure to set your head back on one of your pillows as she put you down. you finally had a good look at her now, and the image made you hotter than you already were; the image of her towering over you on just her knees was enough to make you drool as she looked down at you like a predator does its prey. but as she made her way down towards your sopping cunt, you quickly realized she had a trail of drool of her own dripping down her chin as she eyed you like prey beneath her. her grey eyes could pierce a hole through your skull right now, you were sure; and if you didn't know better, you'd almost be afraid.

sevika was quick to dip down and lap up the juices left behind from her previous efforts, lavishing in the sweet taste and sweet noises you made. sevika's finger presses against your entrance teasingly as she starts to play around with your clit, and it doesn't take much longer before she slides two fingers in you; her middle and ring, and scissors them in you so you adjust to the size of them properly again. you groan, muffling yourself into the back of your hand. it's not long before she's restlessly fucking her fingers into you while you needily hump into the palm of her scarred hand as she works carefully at your clit with her mouth. it's only a couple of moments before she realizes you're trying to quiet yourself down, and she is quick to adjust. she pulls her mouth away from you and lets out something akin to a snarl as she pins the hand you're using to cover your mouth, being careful not to crush you under her mechanical grip. "what did i say earlier, sweetheart? i wanna hear you." she demanded, moving her face in close to yours as she continued working on your pussy, relishing in how quickly the moans spilled freely from your lips.

it doesn't take long before you're getting closer; pussy tensing, your heart beating impossibly fast. "needed this 'vika," you breathlessly whine as you rut into her hand, eyes squeezing shut as she works you further. at this point you had begun to babble, meaningly words falling out of your lips, forming a symphony of her name, "fuck"s and "don't stop"s in between the ramble. as you reach your end, you felt sevika's cool metal fingers squeeze your cheeks and turned your head back to face her. "look at me darlin," you expected her tone to be rough like before, but it was uncharacteristically soft, almost sentimental "wanna see every little look on your pretty little face, 'hmm?"

you forced your eyes open and met sevika's once again, grey but warmer than ever before, staring at you softly, sweat dripping down her sharp and scarred face. "good job sweetheart" she cooed, "you're doing so good..." she brought her thumb up to flick your now neglected clit, and with that, you fall apart, nearly crying as your head churns from the heat, liquor and smoke. "oh— please don't stop, don't, don't sev please." you begged, any composure long gone as you ground out the last of your orgasm on your hand; and sevika happily granted your request, more than content to watch you fall to pieces on her fingers.

once your moans became pitchy and your hips began to stutter, she knew you were done, slowing down to a stop and gently letting go of your face, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck as she slipped out of you. you whimpered at the loss, chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, nearly gasping at points. after a moment of peppering you, sevika pulls off from you, and all you can do is whine, finding moving to be too taxing at the moment. "don't worry doll, 'm not going anywhere." sevika coos from the end of the bed, pulling her shirt off over her head as she begins to strip.

it's not long before she is back over you again, and her hands are under your shirt, a confusing mix of cold and hot on either side as she pulls off the last piece of clothing hiding you from her. you relished in the skin-to-skin as she did so. tossing it to the side, she leaned back to sit on her heels, and you could tell by the almost dumb look on her face that she was too busy admiring the view to see you were doing the same— and how could you not? she had chiselled abs and a happy trail that you would definitely be following later, both of which you knew of before. but to your pleasant surprise, as your eyes drifted to her chest, two pierced nipples shone back at you, and you had to fight the urge to suck on them this instant. you couldn't help the words falling out of your mouth, "you're perfect 'vika, y'know that?"

your tone was soft, and you looked her in the eyes as you said it, smiling softly at the conflicted expression on her face. you could already tell she had no idea what to do with the compliment, and you found it slightly amusing that with one sentence you could somewhat fluster the normally stoic woman. "i don't know about that, hon. you, on the other hand?" she began, leaning down to kiss a line from your neck down your chest and stomach as she spoke, "you're flawless."

as she reached just above your clit, she stopped and looked back up at you with a devious grin. "i hope you had 'nough time to catch your breath, though. cause i'm sure as shit not done with you yet."

—

you don't know how long it's been, all you know is you're approaching what you think is your third orgasm of the night as sevika grinds her cunt into yours. she's intent on cumming now, practically using you for her own pleasure—and you're a complete mess of babbling whines and moans as a result. "plea—se—" you're begging for nothing as you lie in a pool of your cum beneath the two of you, and you can't get enough of her or her abs flexing with every desperate hump. you wanna lick up the cum that's clinging to her happy trail, and the nasty thought makes you shiver.

"you," she murmurs hoarsely, "feel— perfect darlin. you're so perfect." she can't stop repeating your praise from earlier as she fucks herself closer to the edge "feel so fuckin good". but you're well over that, gripping your already torn sheets that have slid completely off the mattress. you forgot how to breathe; your mind is already fuzzy from the alcohol and smoke from earlier, even if it's fading, and even fuzzier with sevika still grinding into you.

your inchoerient begging is breathless and whiney, and you're almost sure you must've died and gone to the great beyond because this was too good to be real. you sob out from overstimulation, unable to hold back tears as they began to trickle down your face, "sevika please—!"

sevika lets out a desperate moan of her own, followed by several more curses as she finally lets go of her own orgasm, grinding out desperately into you as she gasped for air and rode it out. eventually, she lazily collapsed to your side, still struggling to catch her breath as she called your name and turned to face you. you do the same, and shes quick to reach out and pull you close to her, wrapping her arms around you as she buries her face into the top of your hair. you tangle your legs with hers as you let out a content sigh, tucking your head into her chest as you hooked your arms underneath hers.

it was warm and intimate as the two of you winded down silently, enjoying each other's breathing and skin as you could hear a quiet rain begin to patter outside. you weren't sure how long the two of you were laid like that, but eventually, you shifted back to half-sit up on your arm, still somewhat looking up at sevika as you spoke due to her large frame. "so..." you began softly, a small chuckle on your lips as you struggled to find the words. "so?" she mirrored, raising a brow in a slight, tired amusement. you sighed, and started again, tone slightly more serious this time, "look, i'm not asking for, or expecting, any kind of serious commitment, 'vika. i just wanna know where we stand after—"

you pause when sevika calls your name softly and shifts to sit up slightly, even though it doesn't exactly level the two of you. "if you want me—" she pauses too, as if the words feel foreign or if she is not quite sure what to say herself, "if you want me i'm yours. i've been yours for a while." you can tell the confession comes hard to her, it doesn't take a fool to look at sevika and tell she doesn't exactly do feelings.

regardless, you smile lightly, reaching forward as you lean in for a timid kiss, more shy and intimate than the ones before, one that you let linger for some time before pulling back slightly. "i'm yours sevika. wasn't just saying that so you wouldn't stop." you finish your sentence with a small laugh.

you can see a little tension leave her shoulders as you speak, and a smile graces her lips as she steals another quick kiss from you, desperate to be close. you finally allow yourself to rest, falling back into her arms as she pulled you back in and tugged what was left of the covers back over your naked bodies. you feel her let out one last sigh as she settles in next to you, and it's only then that exhaustion hits you as sevika caresses circles into your arm.

it's not long after that before the two of you succumb and fall into sleep to the sound of rain pattering against the window above your head, nothing to worry about until tomorrow morning, when you'd eventually have to go back to the pile of forgotten paperwork sitting on your table.

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hellfire--cult · 7 days ago

Text

Actor!Steve Harrington x BFF!Fem!Reader

wc: 15k

Summary: Your best friend asks for a huge favor when an extra calls out a day before filming a scene. A kiss scene. You have never been in front of a camera, unlike him, so you ask if you could practice... and also test the waters because you never kissed your best friend. The man you've been in love with for the past years.

+18, friends to lovers, idiots in love, steve is not that famous yet, lots of friendly banter, reader is a bit self conscious, kissing, smut, p in v (protected), 69, handjob, fingering, a little bit of dirty talking

a/n: this wip has been in my docs for months. I recently got back to it and finished it in just days. It was supposed to just be the smut, but as always, your girl can't help herself. Thank you @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading, god knows that if i do that myself i would just delete it all.

Please reblog. Be kind.

NOT JUST AN EXTRA

“Absolutely fucking NOT!”

Steve knew you would react like that, it wasn’t a small favor, he also knew that. Your eyes were wide, bewildered, looking at him as if he had grown a second head or a palm tree at the top of it with a monkey dangling from a leaf. He could only sigh as he shook his head at you.

“Come on, you’re gonna get paid, and we’re tight on time to do an audition for this. It’s just a few seconds, ten tops!” You gritted your teeth together as you crossed your arms over your chest. He winced, knowing you were about to increase the tone of your voice. He knows you too well, you aren’t his best friend for nothing.

“Ten seconds! Ten seconds of me being on the big screen for the first time!” You yelled and he closed his eyes and nodded.

“I know, I know–” He opened his eyes to look into yours, pleading, begging. “I– It’s just that small scene. Small, tiny, and we can do it fast.”

He could see how your eyes showed how you wanted to blow him off, but also the tenderness of caring for your best friend. Eyes he always appreciated. Eyes he adored. Eyes he loved with all of his heart. You rubbed your forehead in thought as you looked down at the floor.

“I– Are you sure you can’t get someone else?” You asked and he sighed, shaking his head. Steve’s hope started rising as you deliberated until you finally looked up at him and nodded. “Okay… Okay… Fine.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around your frame, squishing you and lifting you up to twirl you around. You squealed, a giggle escaping your lips, a shenanigan he never stopped doing everytime you did something he was happy about. Since middle school, he twirls you around whenever he is proud, delighted, or you help him with stuff.

You’re put back on your feet, shaking your head as you take a step away from him, a smile on your face, but you notice a nervous chuckle come out of his lips. You frowned because wasn’t he happy? He cleared his throat and nodded once more, looking down at you.

“Alright– I will talk to James to tell him you’ll do it–” And something was not right. He was nervous, you noticed it, so you squinted at him.

“Steve… What’s the scene about?”

He let a choked laughter out, a fake one, rubbing the back of his head. You felt a certain anger growing inside of you as you looked at how he was reacting. You tilted your head, waiting for him to stop being stupid for a second.

“Um… Well, you see… It’s just– It’s just this small scene–” You glared at your best friend as he kept rambling. You know that when Steve is nervous he rambles… or when he is about to ask for a big, big, HUGE, favor… One you might not like.

“And what is my part in this scene?” You pressed on as he cleared his throat and looked down as he mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t hear, making you frown. “What did you say?”

“It’s… and well…” You still couldn’t hear him, your irritation only growing each second as you started tapping your foot on the floor.

“Speak clearly Steve, stop mumbling, or I swear to god–”

“We have to kiss while you pretend to ride me.”

And your mouth dropped at that as Steve saw how your confused frown turned into one of shock and your whole body froze on the spot. He gulped as he waited for your response, but you were still looking at him as if he had just told you the most shocking news there is to exist.

He took a deep breath as he looked away for a second, still waiting. He knows he is asking too much. He knows it, he is not stupid, and he knows this was selfish. He is very much aware of how selfish he is, asking you to play this part but–

Steve just wants to kiss you at least once in his life.

While you’re still in front of him, mouth agape, you fail to notice just like you did all these years, how much the man you call your best friend loves you. You have failed to notice. How he looks at you, how he worships you, how he is willing to kill and die for you. How jealous he is of anyone that looks your way, how jealous he was of all the lovers you took, your ex.

And he knows you have failed to see his feelings, and he assumes that you have been unable to see them because you have never seen him in the same light he sees you. So, for once in his life he will take something he always wanted from you. A kiss. A simple kiss. Of course he wanted to do so many other things with you, but a kiss already means the world for Steve.

“I have to do what?” You asked as you stared at him and he took a sharp intake of breath and nodded, wincing as he talked.

“Yeah… That’s why I’m asking you because– It’s kind of an intimate scene, and I don’t really want to kiss a stranger they had to hire at the last minute…” He lied. He did many times before, but he needed the excuse, he just hopes you don’t see through the lie.

You could only stare at him for a few times as you felt your heart wanting to burst out of your chest. You would kiss your best friend. Intimately. Even if fake, you would still kiss him. After all these years of friendship, of shared moments… and after all these years of harboring this burning love and desire you feel for him.

Feelings you had buried, feelings you were managing to leave behind the closer he got to stardom. Knowing you would see him less, that he would start dating another celebrity sooner or later, that he would forget about you and that would give you the freedom to move on, despite feeling completely destroyed.

But you would have been free.

And now, he is giving you this chance. An opportunity you don’t want to miss, but it might just break you. Ruin you for anything and anyone that might come after him. A ten-second kiss, maybe twenty seconds if a second take is required. Perhaps you could fail the scene many times… get him for a whole full minute…

It’s risky. Your heart is at stake, your feelings are going to be crushed after it, knowing you will never taste his lips again, or have him as close as you did. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t but you won’t ever have this chance again.

“Fine.” Your voice was small yet his eyes lit up the moment you agreed. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost choking him up but he kept a poker face as best as he could. He forced a smile on his lips as he appeared relieved at your response, but that’s why Steve became an actor.

It’s a smile of happiness yet filled with sadness because Steve Harrington promised himself something if you agreed on this little favor of his—something that would rip a part of him, who he is and has been his whole life.

He would let go of you.

It was time to let this love for you die.

—-----------------------------------------------

You could feel yourself sweating as you scanned the document in your hand. The script. It was just one stupid action line, no words in between, just the description of what was happening in the scene.

Kristoff passionately kisses a random girl at a motel, and she is rubbing herself on him while they sit on the bed. He gets a call and the kiss gets interrupted. He excuses himself and leaves promptly.

“Seriously… random girl. That’s my name.” You scoffed as you threw the script on the bed while Steve sat cross-legged, at the feet of the bed. He looked at you over his glasses and he put down his own papers as he sighed.

“Well, it is just a random scene to reveal my character’s personality at the beginning of the movie.” He softly replies to you and you sigh, leaning against the headboard behind your head. You were at his loft in New York City—one that gladly remains hidden from the fans, and paparazzi.

“So your character is a playboy.” You smile at him and he huffs, shaking his head at you with a smile on his face.

“Yes, but then it is revealed–”

“Yeah, the trauma, the unloved boy, blah blah blah–” Your voice became muffled with an ‘oof’ as your face was squashed by a pillow being thrown at your face. You groaned as you pulled it off only to see Steve chuckling at you, biting his bottom lip that only made you gulp the nerves you didn’t know you were holding in your throat.

“Shut up. I mean… Mouse, this could be it. The one movie that will… skyrocket me to higher opportunities.” His smile faded slightly as your face softened… and your heart slowly broke. You knew this movie was going to be good, and you knew this was going to be the chance for his career to take off.

Your time with him now is limited. Once this movie is out, you know the internet will go crazy over him. Fans will increase, paparazzis will be more insufferable, more interviews, more articles, more shows– And where do you fit in all that?

“I know… And it will be a hit, I just know it.” Your eyes went back to the script and you got hold of it again, pretending to scan over the words just so you wouldn’t look at him, just so you wouldn’t feel like you’re already losing him. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he licked his lips and tilted his head.

“How do you know?” He asked and you didn’t look up at him as you shrugged, letting your heart speak your truth. He was still your best friend, and the love you feel for him is still unconditional, and the words you say are honest.

“Because it’s you Steve. You are really good at what you do, and I know you will nail this role and all the ones that will be presented to you.” If only you would have raised your head, you would have noticed how his eyes were looking at you.

Devoted. Whipped. Destroyed.

He gulped once more as he scanned you, and then he looked at the clock. It was getting late, but the scene was the next day and he doesn’t know if he should ask but–

“Hey, mouse–” But you interrupted him as realization struck you. Nerves ran all over your body, creating goosebumps, and then– fear.

“Steve… How do you kiss in movies?” He blinked a few times, and he shook his head a bit to center again as he grew confused at your question.

“Huh?” You felt your whole body beating, not only your heart. You never did this, not even on a stage. You never faked kissing before, you never acted it out.

“You heard me! I mean, is it just lips? Pecks? Tongue? Do you fake the tongue? Do you not? Do you move a lot, or just a little? How do you know if you are overdoing it? Or what if you are not doing it naturally?” His eyes were wide as he listened to your outburst. You looked nervous, flushed, jittery… cute.

“Mouse, you need to calm down–”

“Calm–? Calm down!? You have kissed thousands of times on screen, this is my first time Steve!” His heart softened as he heard you, noticing your distress and how you scanned the line on the script over and over. His heart started picking up a pace as he felt the anticipation for what he was going to propose.

“Well… the basic theory is to know what the scene is about… This one in particular, since it’s just the foreplay for sex, it can be just– lips moving rapidly, and maybe some tongue… It just comes naturally.” Your mouth fell agape as you stared at your best friend. He was being too casual about it, but of course he would be, this is his job and for you, it’s a world-shattering event.

“You say it as if it were the simplest of things Steve. I– Fuck, I shouldn’t have agreed, I’m gonna be so fucking awkward–” You put the script down, running your hands through your hair and Steve bit his bottom lip, not knowing if what he will say next would give him away, or if you are going to run off.

“We… I mean…” He stuttered, once again. Mumbling because of nervousness. You sighed and looked at him as he looked at his hands, playing with the ring that he still holds onto on his left index finger. One you bought for him when he graduated high school, while he gifted the matching one that resides on your right index finger.

“What?” You asked and he cleared his throat, looking up at you over his glasses, a nervous cough coming out of his lips as he tried to sound professional and not desperate.

“We can always practice.” Your eyes were looking at him as if he was the craziest man alive, but it was just because you were in shock. This means you would have two opportunities to kiss him. Today, and tomorrow when in front of the cameras. But– You can’t accept too quickly, even if you are excited, and giddy, and want to answer yes immediately–

“Practice? Like– Kissing?” He took a deep breath and nodded, hoping you would accept, hoping you would let him kiss you twice in his life, and he knew that he might be a little pathetic in his way of getting a kiss from you, but he didn’t want to lose you completely by confessing to you. He wanted to keep you in his life, even if you were his demise.

“Yeah. I can tell you when it is overdoing it and when it’s not.” He felt his mouth go dry as you looked away towards the sunset that was shining through his window. He inspected your profile, your beautiful profile. Your lips puckering out in thought, the expanse of your neck, your collarbone that peeked out of the V-collar of your T-Shirt.

His heart was punching his chest open as his eyes kept moving, not being able to contain himself. Not being able to contain his thoughts from running wild at the thought of touching your lips for the first time. What it could be, what it could lead to… and it was probably just you scrunching your nose at the thought of kissing him.

“You… Don’t mind kissing me?” You still weren’t looking at him, not daring to look at his eyes, getting ready for when he tells you that it’s just work and that it means nothing. Not the way it does to you.

“Mouse, you are fucking beautiful. Of course I don’t mind.” And you didn’t expect that from him at all, and in all honesty, he didn’t even process the words coming out of his mouth just now, but they weren’t any less true. Your eyes slowly found his as your head turned to face him. The orange hues of the sunset hit his irises just right, making his brown eyes turn hazel, clear, and honey-like.

His freckles are basically sparkling at you right now, contrasting with the light, and his short stubble shining as well. He looks so beautiful. Just like that summer all those years ago, the summer you realized you were in love with him. He had only offered you some ice cream, and the sun was just like the one shining through the window right now. He was smiling, younger, and boyish.

And now, he is a man. Your best friend is a man.

“I’m happy to know you won’t vomit on my face the moment you kiss me then.” You giggled, trying to loosen the tension, to loosen your nerves a little bit as you tried to act as his best friend, the way you’ve always been. Maybe you should become an actress as well. He scoffed at you with a shake of his head and then he looked down at his hands, those big hands that grew from one day to another in your freshman year.

“And what about you? You gonna vomit on my face?” His voice was lower than before, and you licked your lips as you felt your body flushing. You suddenly felt smaller, and girlier, and you didn’t know why.

“N-No. I’ll try to not repeat what happened when we were twelve.” He laughed at your words and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory, even if it was disgusting. He was spinning you around after you beat him in a hot dog-eating competition. He was happy you won, but he didn’t believe you when you told him you were feeling sick.

“That was on me. I deserved that.” His eyes found yours again and his smile faded slightly as he scanned your face. “So? Should we–”

“A peck.” You quickly responded and you wanted to curse at yourself. He tilted his head, confused and you cleared your throat, lifting yourself from the headboard to sit straighter, copying him as you crossed your legs underneath your body. “We um… should start with a peck. I mean… it’s like… uncharted territory. Kissing your best friend and all…”

He felt his body sweat as he thought of just grazing your lips and he knew you were being cautious. If it’s too weird for you, you’re going to back out, that’s why you are asking for this. Trial and error. He always wanted to kiss you, even imagined you in the most obscene of positions, but– you haven’t with him. You were still looking at your best friend, the twelve-year-old boy who threw a slug over your head.

“Yeah. Let’s try that.” He moved the script away as he scooted closer to you. You straightened up the moment his knees hit yours, both of you still cross legged, just like you two always sat when telling eachother stuff, or gossip. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, but you had to act as if this meant nothing. As if this didn’t phase every single cell of your body.

You licked your lips in anticipation as you rested your palms on top of your knees. His hands slowly pressed on top of yours as he looked at you over his glasses. Your eyes gazed at his lips momentarily and his eyes did the same with yours. Years of oblivious pining over one another, and you two didn’t know it, didn’t notice it, because you’re two idiots.

Belittling yourselves, thinking you two aren’t right for eachother, not good enough, or not even eachother’s types. You didn’t see what everyone else saw. How everyone bet behind your backs to see when you two would get together. When Steve would succumb and drop to one knee, or when you would simply profess your love for him.

Yes, two oblivious idiots.

He leaned in, squeezing your hands for you to do the exact same, as if reassuring you it was alright. You followed his pace, leaning forward to meet him in the middle. You closed your eyes but he didn’t, wanting to burn the image to memory. He wanted to remember your eyelashes, the moment they fluttered shut, your breath hitting his lips, and then finally, his lips clashing with yours.

He closed his eyes then, so he could focus on the kiss. You knew your heart stopped in this second, in this small yet eternal second. Or two. Maybe three. You felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, clouds gathering around you, and you felt lightweight. A cold sweat invaded his body, or was it warm? He didn’t know, he just felt as if water washed all over him.

He tried to calm down, knowing his blush would show if he didn’t. He pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes again. You blinked a few times, zoned out, and you straightened up as you realized you were acting nervous, or, rather the opposite. You were happy, or floaty. You gulped as you cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, or as normal as one could.

“That… wasn’t as weird as I thought it might be.” And he was relieved to hear that, yet also disappointed by the fact you thought it would be weird at all. He didn’t know it was just you playing the part. You wanted to lick your lips to see if you could taste him even further, but you knew that was to come now.

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” His voice was lower than before, and there was a certain shift you felt in the air. Something that unconsciously was making your pulse go faster. He said it with… a certain tone that you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. He cleared his throat and tilted his head at you. “Ready to experience my amazing, expert, professional lips?”

You giggled, yes, out of nervousness, and trying to mask the fear, or the excitement. You shook your head as you looked at him.

“Oh please, we both know I kiss better.” You smirk proudly at him and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Eddie’s not the best to judge it.” You scoffed at that, squinting your eyes at him. You remember that night, Steve, you, Eddie, Robin, and Argyle drank in Robin’s room, and Eddie wanted to know who was the best kisser out of all of you. Robin didn’t indulge, but out of the three Eddie got to kiss, he said you were the best kisser. He said you were ‘tender’.

“You can’t keep saying that it’s because he likes women better than men, he is going out with Billy now, so my point still stands.” You sat there proudly, not noticing his fingers were slowly intertwining with yours over your knees. He huffed and then laughed, his head tilting to the side as his voice became low in a whisper, and he slowly leaned in.

“I’ll be the judge of that now Mouse.” It didn’t sound like your best friend talking just now. It sounded like a man talking to a girl he really wanted to kiss. Maybe your imagination is running a little too wild. You need to tell your hope to squash down just a tiny bit, or you will get hurt.

And now came the nerves. What if you overdid it now? What if you did it too roughly or too desperate? You have to calm down and let him lead. You will just follow, that’s all you have to do. You swallowed harshly, your eyes closing as his breath hit your lips, your hands tightening around his.

He could smell your perfume, and he was so nervous. He is nervous about being obvious, because, how does he stop the kiss from becoming real? How does he do it? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t. But he won’t stop even if a gun is pointed at his head right now.

His lips came in contact with yours once again, softly. You held in your breath as he exhaled when you kissed him back, your head pressing forward as well. His lips then smacked against yours as they moved once. You followed his movements, slow, and enticing, and you felt your body heat up instantly as your heart threatened to kill you at any second.

You were touching the stars and Steve was on the moon. He couldn’t believe he was kissing you, even if it was ‘fake’, he couldn’t believe it. You weren’t pulling away in disgust, and that for him is already a win. His lips started moving with more determination, kissing your bottom lip as you kissed his top lip.

The smacking of lips bounced on every wall in the room, and Steve felt the temperature rise inside of him. He could feel your fingers intertwining with his over your knees and all he wanted to do was to slide his hands upwards, slide them beneath the hem of your shorts, touch your skin, grip you, and mark you with his fingernails.

With every tilt of head you both did in between the kiss, your mind kept sending images of what you wanted to do to him. How you wanted to push him onto the bed and kiss his neck, his freckles, his biceps, the scar on his belly from the time he protected you against a cat that for some reason wanted to kill you. Then you wanted to take him into your mouth, show him how much you grew up. How much of a woman you are. How a woman like yourself could please a man like him.

But your imagination is cut off when you feel him pull away and you open your eyes to see him looking at you already. His pupils were dilated, and he hoped you wouldn’t see them because of his glasses, which were a bit foggy because your nose bumped into them everytime you turned your head to kiss him.

The tension was palpable around you two, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your breath was a bit quick, and you had to calm down before you gave yourself away. You straightened up once again, clearing your throat. His lips were plumped because of the kiss, and you wanted to kiss them again, but you just raised your eyebrows in question.

“Well?” You asked and Steve was kicked out of his daydreaming as your voice rushed through his ears. He chuckled nervously and nodded, biting his bottom lip in order to keep tasting you.

“Can’t believe Munson was right. You do kiss well.” You were about to give a triumphant ‘Ha’ but he stopped you by raising a hand towards you to shut you up with a smirk to his lips. “But I never kissed myself, so I don’t know if you are a better kisser than me.”

Your mouth fell open at that, but he was right. You huffed afterwards, and you looked down, seeing your fingers intertwined with his over your knees. You felt your blood rushing through your ears and wanted to keep going. Would you sound desperate if you proposed to keep practicing? Would it give you away?

You pulled your hands away from him and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Maybe he overdid it himself? Maybe you did get weirded out? Maybe it wasn’t something you enjoyed at all? Your hands grabbed the script again and he tilted his head, opening his mouth to ask what you were doing but you interrupted him first.

“Um… can we practice with the actual scene?” Oh, your words just sent him to heaven. You would sit on top of his lap. You would be kissing him and rubbing yourself against him– Oh fuck, you would rub yourself against him… or maybe you didn’t? But shit, he was already half hard from the stupid pecks on the lips and the innocent kissing, how is he going to be able to handle this?

And you didn’t have a hard-on to show it off, but you weren’t any less horny than he was. You knew that if you put the least bit of friction on the seam of your shorts and onto your clit, your wetness would sip through. He might notice, but maybe you just pretend to rub yourself? Maybe you just don’t press down?

He felt his veins pulsing, specifically the ones that coursed through his wrists. His fingertips were burning with the idea of being able to hold you the way he’d always wanted to do. His eyes traveled over your body until you looked up at him when you received no answer to your question. He gathered himself and nodded with a shrug.

“Sure…” He gulped as he threw the script to the floor and moved on the bed, his shirt riding up as he crawled and sat next to you. He pressed his back against the headboard and straightened his legs to lay flat on the bed. He patted his lap with an innocent smile on his lips which only made your heart stop. “Hop on.”

You pretended to be annoyed by him, rolling your eyes, pretending you weren’t about to pass out right then and there. You uncrossed your legs and moved to throw one knee over his lap, landing next to his hip. Your eyes connected with his as you hovered over him, not wanting to press down.

“Um… should I…–” Your words were small, not really knowing what to do with your posture. His hands hesitantly grabbed your hips and guided you to sit on his thighs, avoiding his crotch. He hissed inwardly when you brushed over it for a split second, cursing at himself for how sensitive he was right now.

“There. Tomorrow they will ask us to do crotch to crotch though. The camera angle will move from the hips, towards our profiles.” You could feel your face catch on fire at the mere thought of rubbing yourself against Steve. He smiled reassuringly at you, his hands moving to your waist. “It’ll be fine. I’m a professional, you know that.”

“That does nothing to calm my nerves.” You rolled your eyes and he squeezed you slightly as you adjusted yourself on his thighs. You cursed inwardly when the seam of your shorts rubbed on you by accident, right on your clit. “What if you pop a boner for me, huh?”

“And what if you get dripping wet for me Mouse? I can’t see it but it can happen.” His words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he felt himself combust. He felt as if he were on literal fire. Your eyes locked with his over his glasses and you didn’t know how to react to it. He was right, but– is this something normal best friends say to eachother? You broke the tension by clearing your throat.

“You are too sure of yourself.” You saw how his tongue darted out to lick his lips for a second and you took a deep breath in as he pointed to the floor next to the bed.

“It will move from here–” and he moved his hand, passing over the end of the bed, over your thighs, both of your hips and then up towards your profiles, his fingers wiggling on the side of your face, “– to here.”

“Got it… So…”

“Follow my lead, mouse.” You gulped the lump you were holding back as the butterflies in your stomach exploded, burst into flames, or they set an atomic bomb in there as he leaned close. His hands squeezed your hips as yours grabbed his shoulders. His nerves were a definite match with yours, completely out of control, berserk, but he was the professional here, he could pretend, even if it would leave a bad aftertaste.

His lips found yours again, making your breath hitch slightly, but you kissed back just like you have before. The seam on your shorts was pressing against you and now you really wondered if your wetness would sip through. What if it did and he felt it? You were far from his pelvic area, and you didn’t want to be obvious in looking down at it to check if he was as afflicted as you were.

Your lips moved together, your heart jumping in your chest while he was already bungee jumping off the empire state building. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, making him hum in the kiss and slowly pull away, making you open your eyes to look at what you had done wrong. He was smiling softly at you, his eyes darting to his right shoulder for a second.

“If you grab at me like that, your nervousness will show. Let your hands roam. Wrap your arms, or your hands can go through my hair.” He was being straightforward, but he was desperate for you to relax. He was desperate to feel as if this were real, to feel you close once and for all, to feel you against him and for your nails to rake into his hair.

You slowly nodded, trying not to feel your entire body burning at the prospect of messing your best friend’s hair with your fingers. You took a deep breath in as you stretched your fingers over his shoulders and gave him a nod. His eyes darted to your lips again before leaning back in, kissing you once more.

You let your hands rub his shoulders, and you thought that, if this had to be as natural as possible, then you should just kiss him the way you always wanted to. If it is too much, you can just play it out that this is how you normally kiss. Giving yourself one last push of encouragement, you moved your lips against him, your hands moving to the back of his neck and then up into his hair. You have played with Steve’s hair many times before, but never in this manner. You want to pull on it, you want to rub yourself on him, but you have to keep yourself in check before you give your true intentions away too easily.

Steve on the other hand, he was being way too cautious and you were driving him fucking insane. He doesn’t know how he is capable of holding himself back but he is trying, and finding himself slowly failing at each scratch you do on his head. It was more than he bargained for, and now he is paying the consequences of it. He could smell your perfume, taste the cherry flavored chapstick you were wearing, the feel of your bare thighs under his hands as he rubbed on them, slowly, pretending this is how he is going to move for the shot of the next day.

Was it okay for him to have some hope by the way you were kissing him? Was it okay for him to just fuck this game and kiss you for real? Was it okay for him to think you felt affected as he was? For a while? All this time?

So maybe he just needs to take this chance. If you pull away, he can pretend he is used to doing his kisses a bit harsher, or something, he can do it, but he needs you. He fucking needs to feel your tongue on his. He turned his head and poked your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Your body flinched but he felt your body roll slightly against him, sending him into a mess of nerves and excitement when you opened your mouth for him.

And when you felt his tongue going into your mouth to dance with yours, you knew you were gone. You are going to do what you always wanted to do, and for some reason, and it might be the temperature of the room or maybe his own body heat, but you think Steve might be feeling the same way you are doing right now. You could feel it in the way you have his hand running up towards your hips, the tips of his fingers going under the hem of your shirt, just a little bit.

So, you take the leap as well.

You wiggled a little closer to his crotch, pretending to move to sit more comfortably, and that’s when you felt him. He groaned into the kiss the moment you rubbed yourself, slightly, over him. You weren’t fully seated on him, but you knew he was hard and was that a sign that this was okay? That this was something you both wanted?

His tongue moved against yours, both of your heads turning as you kept kissing, rubbing, touching, not even noticing that minutes had passed, when the scene was only going to be ten seconds. Then, he suddenly pulled away, breathless, and you feared for the most until he spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Closer.” And you only nodded, his hands helping you move to fully sit on him, your chest against his, and you couldn’t even gasp that his lips were on yours again the moment his bulge came in full contact between your legs.

He was letting himself be guided by his lust and his love for you. He couldn’t let you go, not when you are giving him all the green lights there are. You could have questioned him just now, told him no, that it was too much, but you just nodded and followed with nothing to say. He hoped he wasn’t misunderstanding anything, but fuck, you were rubbing against him. You could fully feel his hard on and instead of shying away, or jumping up in disgust, you were rubbing yourself even more against him.

His hands travelled upwards, going underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers touching your bare waist, sending shivers down your spine, the butterflies multiplying in your belly as the heat he radiates from his fingertips travels into your body. You could smell his cologne, the distinctive scent he’s been carrying for years now, one you detect the minute he crosses a door and into a room.

Your breaths are heavy against eachother as you keep kissing, desperately, eating one another like you’ve always wanted to do to one another. His glasses hit you every once in a while at each turn of head, and the more you sway your hips against him, the more you forget the fact that this was supposed to be practice. He wasn’t supposed to be into it the way he is, and maybe…

You slowly pull away from him, noses still touching, lips still brushing, breaths mingling with one another’s and you manage a small whisper towards him.

“Are we still practicing, Steve?” And that made him open his eyes to find yours. Their eyes, clouded with lust, desire, love, tenderness, and pent-up feelings, met. Feelings that can be talked and discussed later on. He pulled his head back and with a swift movement, you were now facing the ceiling as he got on top of you, settling between your legs. He ripped the glasses off his face and threw them god knows where as he planted his hands on each side of your body and leaned down, his eyes dark and determined, something you never thought would be directed your way.

“Like hell we are.” And you burst in happiness as his lips crashed with yours again. He could be just thinking of where to stick his dick in right now, but you’ll take it. This is being done rationally, sober, with complete consciousness. Your tongues met again, your hips clashed, and he began rutting into you, his bulge hitting your clit perfectly now at every thrust.

You let yourself moan into his mouth as your hands ran through his hair, your legs spreading even more for him to rut harder and he touched heaven the moment he heard your sweet voice react to him like that. You were accepting him, encouraging him and he couldn’t be more grateful to whatever god has heard him. He groaned into your mouth as a particular thrust sent a wave of heat all over his body, feeling himself twitch in his pants, and he knew his boxers were already stained with precum.

He wasn’t going to last, and if he keeps rutting himself into you, he is going to blow his load in three minutes or less. He has been waiting for this moment for far too long, just as much as you have. Your belly was already burning with his dry humping, and it was becoming harder to hold your noises back.

He moved to rest on his elbows so he could move his right hand downwards, underneath the hem of your shirt. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt his fingertips grace your belly, and then went upwards, touching the soft cotton of your plain bra. You weren’t expecting anything today, and now you were wondering if he would think you are too common for him. Not extravagant enough. Yet all doubts were thrown out the window when he pulled away, his lips pressing to the side of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw, and his voice mumbled into the skin of your neck before he started kissing it.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck– Tell me you want this Mouse, that you wanted this as much as I have…” Your breathing was jagged as he started sucking, licking, kissing your neck. You gasped when he hit your pulse point and pressed his tongue on it, making you press your hips upwards and into him. He just confessed to you he wanted you. He has wanted you for a while from what you could decipher, but questions could come later.

“Yes– God, Stevie, yes–” No turning back now. The friendship was ruined, passed onto a better life. He hummed in delight into your skin, finally daring to move his hand to cup your breast. He couldn’t believe how dumb and blind he was. You wanted him. How did he not see it? Maybe he wasn’t the only actor between the two of you.

Your back arched against him as you felt him grope your breast, rub on it with his big hands. Hands you couldn’t stop staring at everytime he took notes down on his scripts or on his agenda. You had mentioned to him before his hands were ridiculously large, which only made him joke to you about how he never got any complaints about them. You have touched yourself to thoughts of those hands on you and now you get to live it.

He sucked onto your skin, ready to mark you up finally, make you his. You were not pushing him away from it, or denying him from doing so, so that was a great sign for him. Your mouth was open as one hand was still tangled in his hair, the other dragging your nails on his back. You were letting out small sounds, little huffs, but then you felt his fingers go underneath the elastic of your bra, finally cupping your breast completely bare. He moaned into your skin when he felt your nipple perk up against his palm, and he immediately got it in between his fingers and pinched.

You let out your first loud moan of the night and that made him thrust into you quite desperately. He was going to cum in his pants. He can’t have that. He pulled away from your neck, sitting up and ripping his hand away from you, making you pout slightly. He smirked at how fucked you looked already, and all thanks to him. He crossed his arms in front of him and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one movement, his hair now more disheveled than what your fingers had done to it.

You were flushed all over as you looked at him, his arms, his chest, his abdomen… his fucking chest hair. That chest hair that sprouted out of nowhere from one summer to the other and it completely made your hormones go a little crazy.

“Am I going to be the only one getting undressed here?” He asked as a joke, yet not entirely. It was one last chance for you to step out. For you to go back to what you two were minutes before. You licked your lips as you sat up, taking your shirt off in front of him and throwing it away just like he did. He was still kneeling up in between your legs, staring down at you as if you had hung the stars for him. And that you did.

“Don’t be a crybaby.” Your voice was teasing and small, showing how nervous you were. You couldn’t help it. Steve had other experiences now, and you wondered if you could really compare at all. He gulped as his eyes ran over your chest, and he has seen you in your bra before. But those times cannot compare to what this means right now, because that bra will be taken off in, what he hopes, a few seconds.

He ran a hand through his hair as your hands ran over his chest, inspecting him, experiencing him. He moved his free hand to hold your cheek and make you look up at him. Your eyes were glossed over and he couldn’t stop himself that he was already leaning to take your lips with his as his other hand went to your back and touched the clasp of your bra, which made you jump slightly. He immediately pulled away, looking at you, his nose still bumping into yours.

“You okay?” How do you explain that you jumped because of your excitement and happiness? Of how sensitive you were because all your senses were heightened up because of him. How do you not sound in love?

“Yeah, just got surprised, that’s all…” You gave him a peck of reassurance and he hummed into your lips, his hand moving to the clasp of your bra once again and in one swift movement of fingers, it snapped open. A pang of jealousy and anger hit you for just a few seconds until he pulled away from you, his hands grabbing both straps of your bra, his eyes glued to your breasts as he sat back, taking your bra with him.

And, well, Steve is staring. His breathing ragged as you saw how he dropped the bra on the bed, his eyes going left and right, not knowing in which one to focus on. He never saw your bare breasts before and now that he does–

“They’re so fucking perfect Mouse… You’re so perfect for me, jesus christ–” You couldn’t even process his words that he was making you lay back on the bed again, his body over yours and his mouth came in contact with your collarbone as his left hand held the back of your neck and the other your waist.

You sighed in pleasure when his kisses started moving downwards towards your chest, then moving to the right. The left hand moved from the back of your neck to rest on your right breast, nipple immediately fitting between his fingers. You were about to arch your back at the feeling, only for another sensation to override it. His lips on your left nipple.

“Steve–” You gasped as your back arched towards him, your hands flying to his head, running your fingers through his hair to pull him even more into you. He loved his name on your mouth like this… And he wanted to hear you scream it. Cry it. Breaking through your vocal cords as he made you come undone.

His lips moved on your right nipple, sucking on it as he pinched the left one. He looked upwards to see you, his hair blocking his view a bit, but he saw how your head was thrown back on the pillow, mouth open as little breaths left it. He hummed into your breast and then he got the nipple between his teeth, and softly pulled on it, inflicting a bit on pain on you to taste the waters and–

This moan was your loudest yet.

“Oh, you didn’t lie when you said you might be a masochist.” And he remembers that conversation. A drunken night where he almost kissed you. You two talked about your sex lives but never in detail, that is, until you asked him if you were a masochist because you liked being spanked and choked, to which his response was, ‘yes’. Since that night, he had very graphic dreams that had you as their protagonist. The dreams were sweet and domestic before, and then, after that… they were pure filth.

“You remember that?” You ask breathlessly, smiling a bit as you feel him nod as he sucks on your right nipple. “I was embarrassed after saying that… my drunk brain thought it would catch your attention and blurted it out…”

“It did more than catch my fucking attention.” And with that confession, he rubbed his hips against you once more, proving his point as you felt his hard bulge still intact, if not, harder than before. You moaned as he tugged on your nipple one last time before changing places, giving the same attention to the left one as his hand kept grabbing your breast there.

“Oh, does it mean you’ve been having some dirty thoughts about me, Stevie?”

“Thoughts?” He chuckled against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he pulled away to look at you after giving a bite to the round of your breast. “Try dreams. Lots of them.”

The confessions kept pouring out, realizing this was more than just attraction. Both of you now know this goes beyond physical. Beyond wanting to try it out with your best friend. Beyond trying a new experience.

“What did I do in those dreams?” And you saw his face flush, leaving him speechless finally as you looked up at him. You bit your bottom lip as you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him to the side, rolling on top of him as soon as his back hit the bed. Your legs now straddled him, hips pressing against him, provoking a groan out of his lips.

“You were like this in one of those, certainly.” Your ears couldn’t be happier to hear that. You couldn’t contain the smile that spread on your lips as you imagined Steve waking up sweaty to a fantasy he dreamt where you were the main lead.

“Hmm…” And your eyes went down, looking at his belt. You gave yourself a mental pat on the shoulder for encouragement as you decided you wanted to engrave yourself into his memory. “What about this?”

His eyebrows met in the middle as you moved from his pelvic area to rest on his thighs. Only then his eyes widened, when your fingers unbuckled his belt, then undid the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He twitched only by the grace of your fingers over the expanse of his bulge. Oh, fuck.

You were biting your bottom lip with need as your fingers hooked in the hem of his pants and boxers. You were going to do it. You were going to cross the line. A line you were terrified of since the moment you discovered you felt physically attracted to him. One thing is to be only feeling something emotional over someone, but once you start having physical attraction to them, you know a line is suddenly drawn between the two of you.

His breathing hitched in his throat as you started pulling his clothes down. He raises his hips up in order to help you, the nerves flying all over his body, a bit of self consciousness running through his veins as he looks at the ceiling, wondering if you would think it’s weird, or too much, or too little. He never received any complaints but, who knows? This was you. He had to be perfect for you.

But he couldn’t be more wrong. The moment he came out from his boxers, his shaft slapping on his belly as it bounced out, and your mouth fell open. You– You knew Steve could be big. You’ve ogled him, multiple times. In his gym shorts, in his swimming trunks, in his underwear whenever he was getting ready in front of you, and you caught sight of it having a little hard on just very few times. Your imagination gave it no justice.

“What the hell Steve…”

“What– What’s wrong?” His eyes found your face which was locked on his cock, and worry filled his brain as he thought you were looking at him in disgust or something. But, actually, your mouth was salivating. You were put in automatic pilot as you shuffled downwards, your thighs now straddling his shins.

Your hands rubbed on his inner thighs, making him choke on his breath, and you saw how his shaft twitched at your touch. You clenched around nothing as you anticipated how he would sound with your lips wrapped around him. Fantasies of him moaning your name as you showed him just how much you wanted him, now, about to become a reality.

Your upper body bent down, his eyes widening when he saw you let a blob of spit fall from your lips and onto the tip of his cock. He saw how it dribbled down his shaft and before he could stop you, your hand wrapped around him. He sighed instantly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he gripped the sheets beneath him. Fuck– Fuck, how can he stop you now?

“You’re so big…” Your voice was sultry, low, filled with pure lust and he noticed it. You were talking to his dick, not him. All his worry about how it looked was thrown out the window, but when you started moving your hand up and down on him, slowly, another worry filled him, and that was that he was going to cum in just a few strokes if he didn't concentrate.

“Baby–” He called out your name, but then he felt your thumb press onto the tip and then pass it on his frenulum which sent a jolt of electricity all over his body. “– Oh god.”

You were relishing in his sounds. You looked up to see his head thrown back, the veins and freckles on his neck being the stars of the show for you. He looked so good right now and you were flushing all over just by giving him pleasure. You looked back down, and your body went downwards just a little bit more, and you lolled your tongue out. A growl was torn out of him as you licked his tip, slotting it right into his slit before kissing it.

You were sucking him off. You were going to suck him off and oh my god, he is going to die. Or he is already dead and gone to heaven. He sighed in delight as he felt your mouth engulf the head of his cock. Your pretty cherry-flavored lips that will now have his taste, smearing your spit all over him. You hummed in delight as you went further and he had to grip onto the sheets as he closed his eyes, taking his mind far away so he wouldn’t blow his load right now.

You could hear his grunts, how he was holding himself back as your left hand was on his hip for leverage while the right one helped you engulf the places your mouth couldn’t reach. You let your mouth salivate around him as you started bobbing your head up and down, slowly, slightly twirling your head from side to side, while your right hand jerked him up everytime your mouth went up.

“Oh– Fuck–” He drapped an arm over his eyes as his back arched a little bit off the bed at a specific tongue press along the shaft. You want more of that, you want more of Steve breaking underneath you, so you quicken your movements, just a little bit. His breathing turned heavy and you looked up to see his chest heaving, and you knew he was holding himself back from making noises.

You pulled away with a soft pop, making him take his arm away from his eyes and raise his head to be able to look at you as you kept slowly jerking him off. His cock was right next to your lips as you stared at him.

“Don’t hold your voice back Stevie…” His eyes rolled to the back of his head when you used his nickname in a situation like this. Goddamn, you had him wrapped around your finger. He shook his head as he sighed, his belly flipping at how your thumb slotted itself in the slit of the head of his shaft.

“It’s not that– It’s– I’m not going to last if you keep sucking me off, and to be honest? I want to fuck you stupid, Mouse.” Your mouth fell open at that, suddenly flushed all over at his dirty words, at the dirty talk you never thought would be directed your way. It made him smirk, and an idea popped up in his head. “– But… I do want to taste you as well.”

You tilted your head as he slowly moved his hands to grab your hand and one touched your cheek. He nodded upwards for you to pull away from him.

“What–”

“Turn around. Shorts and panties off.” You felt your heart in your throat as you gulped, his eyes dark, never leaving your figure as you climbed off the bed in order for you to do as he commanded. As you did that, he took the opportunity to take the rest of his pants and boxers off, throwing them to the side. You bit your lip as you pulled the button in your shorts open and then pulled the zipper down.

You would be completely naked to him right now. You two would finally cross the line, completely. He would see you in all your glory just as how you just sucked his. You had to stop overthinking this. You had to. He wants you. You want him. And you could see how he was biting his bottom lip, how he was expecting this, how desperate he was to see you naked for the very first time.

So, defeating your nerves, you slowly pushed your shorts and panties down, not wanting to show the bland cotton panties to him, but you made a show of sticking your ass out a bit as you swayed your hips to take off your clothes. His head rolled back as he let out a groan, and you saw how his dick twitched at the sight of you and you wanted to smile at the small win.

You were naked. He was naked. You were both naked. You couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment with both your hands. It was still Steve. Steve who came to your house to play in the tree house in your garden. Steve who climbed into your room whenever his mom and dad fought and he wanted to get away. Steve who helped you get your first part time job with him at Scoops where you two met Robin.

And it was the man you have loved for the past years.

“Hey– We don’t have to–” He was looking at you worriedly, feeling as if you had realized what was about to happen but you cut him off by jumping towards him, getting on top of him and kissing him on the lips to steal his breath away.

“I’m just nervous…” You confessed and he smiled at you, caressing your cheek as he nodded, completely agreeing with you.

“Me too… and if it’s too much–” And you shook your head at him, biting your bottom lip as you kneeled up, towering all over him. His heart picked up a pace once again as he saw how you turned around, your ass in full view for him and he couldn’t help but sigh dreamily. “God… I want a picture…”

“Steve!” You giggled as you looked down at his length, still hard and waiting, despite the sudden interruption the two of you just had. You took a sharp breath in so you could gather up the courage and you started moving backwards, Steve’s abdomen starting to show the more you moved.

“Can you blame me?” He was already becoming pussy drunk the more your center came closer to him. His hands rubbed the back of your thighs, and then he smacked your right cheek with his hand, making you jolt and gasp, your pussy clenching around nothing. He smirked at the reaction, his hands grabbing onto your hips as you looked down at his red tip, begging for attention, twitching for it.

“S-Stevie…” He groaned, looking up at your glistening folds. Something he has dreamed of doing so many times. He couldn’t wait for you, to taste you, to finally make you scream. He needed to hear you. He needed to let you know just how good he can worship you, and how good he can make you feel.

“Lower on me, baby, I can take it. I can take whatever you give me.” His words came from his heart because he didn’t even process them. Not that they weren’t any less true. You felt his hands gripping your hips, pressing on you so you would finally move down towards him. You took a deep breath in, and you moved your hips downwards, your hands gripping his thighs in anticipation.

Steve could smell you and it was delightful. He is going to become addicted to you. He already was, but this would seal the entire deal. He couldn’t wait anymore, and his head left the pillow, raising up so he could dart his tongue out and finally lick in between your folds, taking a gush of your slick with him. You shivered on top of him, letting out a sigh out of your pretty lips and his eyes closed as he tasted you.

You were sweet, everything he needed and desired in one simple lick. You were the most delicious and addicting thing he has ever tasted. More than nicotine, alcohol, candy itself. You were perfect. You gasped, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs as you felt him lick at you, slurping your slickness away.

“So delicious… please…” He was begging for you to lower down, and after having a bit of what he could offer, your body lowered, his head laying back down on the pillow as your cunt slotted over his mouth. He smirked right before he darted his tongue out to rub it against your clit and then your folds. Your back was arched as you leaned down, moaning as you felt him all over, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body.

He groaned into your folds as your hand wrapped around him again, pumping him for a few seconds before he felt your hot mouth all over the head. You could feel the vibrations of his noises when you started taking him in your mouth, and then moving up and back down. It was making you feel so good. He was making you feel so fucking good. Your Stevie.

You moaned into his cock when he slapped your thigh, the sound echoing throughout the room and he sighed as he felt your moan vibrate all over. He kept licking you away, slurping on your clit thanks to how you were arching your back against him. You were giving him great access to that sensitive button of yours and he was having the time of his life tugging at it, making you cry out a few times as he felt your body tremble on top of him.

He jerked his hips upwards when you went a little further with your mouth, taking him even more. He was surprised and he stopped lapping at your center for just a second, trying to gather up his thoughts once again. You gagged, pulling up from him slightly, but continuing to suck him off. He had to distract you. He had to make you stop because if you didn’t he was going to finish. It’s been an ongoing battle with himself all night, and he was not going to give up now.

He decided to hold your ass cheeks, spreading them and then he entered his tongue inside of you. You pulled away from him with a gasp, the side of your face falling to a rest on his left thigh as you kept pumping him right in front of you, your chest against his abdomen.

“S–Steve–!” You couldn’t believe how thick his tongue was. Everything was overwhelming you, and you couldn’t keep your mouth on him because you just needed to moan. Your hand was still jerking him off and even if he was delighting himself with his tongue inside of you, he had to keep distracting you.

He moved one of his hands, elbow bent between your legs and bicep against his chest in order to aim properly into your core. He pulled his mouth away from you, letting you catch your breath, only for then to be completely washed over by a gasp when you felt two of his fingers sliding over your folds, gathering up your slick in order to lube them up. Those fingers you always fantasized with. Fingers you pretended you were fucking instead of your own.

“Pretty. My pretty girl.” His praises were coming out of his mouth nonstop. Your mouth fell open and your hand stopped moving on his cock as you felt him invade your cunt with two of his fingers. His index and middle finger, in the position of a finger gun. This will give him better access to that special spot of yours, considering the position you two were in, but fuck, his dick twitched in your frozen hand when he felt just how warm you were inside. He felt it with his tongue, but with his fingers, it felt like something else entirely.

He wanted to give you the utmost pleasure, and he knew he was succeeding by how still you stayed on top of him, cunt a few inches away from his face, seeing his fingers start to slowly pump in and out of you. He could hear the squelching, oh fuck. Maybe he is just going to cum like this. He might cum just by fingering you and listening to your sweet little moans and sighs.

You were drooling on his thigh, and you didn’t have the power to care. You were feeling good as he changed the pace and started literally fucking his fingers into you, making you choke on your own moans. You couldn’t even move your hand on him, too distracted as he kept moving his fingers in and out of you, and when you tried to move your hand, you felt him press his ring finger against your clit, rubbing it back and forth as he finger fucked you.

“Oh Stevie–” You couldn’t help the moans you were letting out, pornographic, and it was everything Steve ever wanted. For you to moan his name this way. For you to come undone under his touch.

“You feel good, baby?” You nod against his thigh, as your eyes remain closed, your hips starting to slowly sway against his thrusts. “Oh fuck, yeah, move against me, that’s it–”

He couldn’t help talking to you. He wasn’t very talkative when having sex, but you? You were bringing a new whole side of him. He wanted to know if you were feeling good, wanted to make you do things to feel even better, and most of all, praise you. Worship you.

You raised yourself from his thigh, holding yourself up against it with your left hand, shaking on top of him as you felt him move his wrist slightly, hitting your G-spot even if slightly, but enough to make you cry loudly. Your right hand tightened around him, making him groan but he didn’t feel the intense burning in his belly any longer. It was there, but not as threatening.

He smirked as he flutter around his fingers, knowing you were coming close as you kept fucking yourself on his fingers. Your belly was burning, tightening, your walls starting to clench as you decided to finally let go of his dick, slamming your hand on his right thigh, and now you were just riding his fingers.

You looked so fucking perfect right now, and he couldn’t wait as he felt you clench even tighter around his fingers, feeling your clit throb underneath the length of his ring finger.

“I’m– Shit, Steve, please, I’m gonna cum– You’re gonna make me cum–” Your head dropped as you felt your belly starting to turn into itself and he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine, only for them to start rubbing against your clit, making you clench around nothing at all.

“Cum on my tongue. Come on. I want it–” And you felt his tongue immediately dive into your folds, swirling inside of you as his fingers kept working magic against your sensitive clit. Your breaths were coming out in short little gasps as you felt tears building up your water lines in anticipation and lust. You felt yourself wanting to separate from him but he held you close with his other hand, not letting you move an inch away from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck– Steve!” Your nails dug into his thighs as you finally felt yourself tighten all around his tongue, your hips swaying desperately against him, not even considering you might suffocate him, but he wasn’t. He was actually in heaven as he kept drinking you, rubbing your clit in order to help you ride your orgasm out. Your cries were of his name, moans he never thought would be as high pitched as that, and you just felt hot all over.

He has to make sure he didn’t cum just now.

You twitched on top of him as you felt yourself start to untense, unclench, and your nails let go of his thighs. You felt him still swirling his tongue and sucking on your folds, eliciting a small wince as you pulled your hips up. You gulped as you breathed heavily, scooching away from his face, his hands leaving you completely. Your knees were wobbly against the mattress as you pulled your leg over his legs in order to turn around and face him.

He was breathing heavily, your slick all over his mouth and jaw, even down his neck, mixed with his saliva. You covered your mouth as you looked at the view before you. He looked utterly fucked just by eating you out. A sense of pride surged inside of you but you still bit your lip as you crawled close to him, looking down at his face.

“Steve…?”

“Holy shit…” He was all dopey smiling up at you. “I’ve wanted to do that since… forever.”

“Oh?” You smiled as your arms felt like complete gelatin as you kept your body up. You looked down to look at his cock, seeing how hard it still was, biting your bottom lip to look at him. “Um… you… want me to help you?”

He raised his eyebrows at you and lifted his head to look down and thankfully, gladly, he didn’t cum. He smirked, wiping his mouth away with a bit of the bedsheet as he turned to look at you once again.

“No.” Your eyes shot up in surprise and you were about to talk as he rolled on top of you, his hands on either side of your face, his pupils completely dilated as he stared down at you. “I want to fuck you, if that’s fine by you.”

You couldn’t nod quicker even if you wished. Your heart was gone already, you didn’t even know if you still had a beat or if it exploded and somehow blood was still pumping, but, sex. You were going to finally have sex with Steve. He licked his lips as he reached over for his night stand and opened his drawer to take out a condom foil. He inspected it, his eyes squinting slightly, making you frown.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the expiration date.” Your eyes shot up in surprise at his words. Why would he need to check that?

“I… Huh?” He chuckles as he rips the foil open with his teeth, making you stupidly clench like a bitch in heat.

“I don’t exactly bring many women. This is my house and… it’s where most of you are… I didn’t want to taint it. I didn’t want anyone else but you in here for this… kind of thing.” He chuckled nervously as he rolled the condom on himself, and you were just staring at him. He has been waiting for you, all this time. He wanted you all this time. He saved this place for you, even if you two were never doing this. Even if you two were just friends like an hour ago.

“Steve…” He looked at you and connected his eyes with yours, a feeling of warmth invading the both of you, and you two knew this was right. This was meant to happen at one point or the other, you just were too blind or stupid to realize this. Your arms wrapped around his arms as he leaned down to take your lips in his. You could taste yourself in his mouth, and you couldn’t believe that it actually was turning you on.

Your legs spread even more for him to slot easily between them, his hard cock rubbing against you, making the both of you groan into the kiss. Your tongue danced with his as you two danced around that line that is now a spider’s thread of silk. He moaned into the kiss as he kept kissing you, but he needed to be honest with you, in order to not disappoint, so he pulled away, his breaths heavy against your lips.

“I gotta tell you, I’m not gonna last… I waited too long for this and I’ve been holding back from cumming the past thirty minutes and–” You giggled and pecked his lips with reassurance as you nodded at him.

“Don’t worry… We can go again later…” That gave him all the encouragement he needed, which he really didn’t anymore than what he already had, to grab his shaft in order to guide it to your entrance. He gave you one last look and you could feel the joy. The same joy that resides in your chest, a joy that makes you want to almost cry, but it got interrupted as his hips started pushing in. Your mouth fell open into an ‘o’ shape as you felt him stretch you out, inch by inch, and– fuck, his fingers did their best but there’s no comparison at all.

He groaned loudly as you engulfed him in your heat, slowly, and all he wanted was to slam into you, go crazy with it, but he had to be patient. He wanted it perfect. Everything has been going perfect till now, and it shouldn’t stop. It should never stop for you. Nor with you.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good for me, Mousy.” His head fell to the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent, your perfume, and he placed a kiss onto your skin. And his hips were not stopping, already going halfway in but you already felt full. You couldn’t believe you could keep taking him but maybe you were just made for him.

“B-Big– It’s so fucking big, Steve, what the fuck…” You couldn’t help the curse that came out of your mouth, a breathy chuckle vibrating in your neck thanks to him.

“I’m sorry– Do I–”

“No, don’t stop, I’ll kill you…” And you would, and he nodded. He took a sharp intake of breath as he tensed for a second before he dove his hips all the way in, making you gasp as his pelvis finally slammed against yours. He bottomed out and you felt him in your throat. Your nails were digging into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to him. It wasn’t painful at all, it just felt like too much, and you felt yourself pulsing around him, trying to get used to it. He pulled away from your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up on your jaw, to then move to your left cheek.

“Are you okay?” His voice was a whisper, concerned and you wanted to cry by how attentive he was over his own pleasure. You smiled even if he wasn’t seeing it and you nodded. “Tell me when I can start moving, alright?”

And you wanted to be brave and say right now, but you actually waited for a minute, and in that minute you knew this wasn’t a one time thing. A ‘satisfy your curiosity’ kind of thing. Because Steve was peppering your whole face and neck in kisses, soft little pet names leaving his mouth for you.

‘My baby. My sweetheart. Darling. My sweet. Honey. My love.’

And the last one was the one that caught you by surprise. It seems he noticed what he had done because the moment you opened your mouth, he started to move. A moan left your lips as he started thrusting slowly in and out of you, halfway out, and then in. It was slow tempo, yet deep, but not rough.

“Stevie–” You were letting out pretty sighs as you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling him rub against your walls with each thrust. He cradled your head in his arms, looking down at your face, his hair falling over his eyes as the sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Perfect. Can I go faster?” It was a plea, a beg, the lust for you inside of him igniting once again, and with your nod, his hips started rolling quicker, a little further than before, making you moan louder, your head tilting back on the pillow, your neck being exposed to him, to which he immediately attacked with his lips.

He started listening to the slamming of his hips against yours as he sucked on the skin of your pulse point, listening to your moans and his dick was twitching nonstop. He couldn’t believe he was having you like this, that you were letting him have you like this at all. His sweet mouse. His sweet, perfect girl.

It was paradise. He was in paradise. You were in heaven. You two felt like everything made sense for the first time in your lives. Why didn’t you do this before? Why were the two of you so scared? Those are questions you two can ask eachother later because right now all you want is to finally let Steve rail into you the way he’s always wanted to.

And to do that, he had to pull away and kneel up, his arms leaving your head so his hands could grab the back of your knees. He looked down at you for just one second as his chest heaved up and down. Your eyes were filled with tears, your gaze finding his and as you opened your mouth to call for him, his hips started snapping into yours, the bedframe hitting the wall at each thrust of his.

You moaned loudly as your right hand shot upwards, holding onto the headboard, while your left one was in a tight fist in the pillow below your head. He was moaning your name as he saw your entire body bounce against his thrusts, and he could hear how wet you were as well. He growled as he felt his belly burn instantly at it, and he wanted to last longer, to have you in more positions, to make this night unforgettable, but he had a feeling that you would not care. It would be memorable no matter what he did or happened.

“Steve, you feel so good–” Your words were like sirens singing in his ear. You were making this very difficult on him as he started rolling his hips in long and deep thrusts, making you gasp and breathe out everytime the tip of his cock hit the deepest part of you, brushing against your g-spot perfectly. Your eyes were wide, looking at the ceiling thanks to how intense he was being and how much you were loving it.

“Yeah? Tell me how much you love it, baby, I want to hear it–” He didn’t know where all this dirty talking really came from. He was still surprised by this.

“I love it– I love it so much– I love you– I love you!” His eyebrows met in the middle as his mouth fell open, and he was done for. He fell forward as his heart exploded inside of his chest, and he knew you were cockdrunk and it came out of your mouth unwillingly, but the feeling was there and he knew it.

You couldn’t believe you said it. You couldn’t believe what you just did but you just let yourself go and this happened. He fell forward, his hands caging your head between them as his hair tickled your forehead, his lips brushing over yours as he kept panting into your mouth, his hips unrelenting in their pace.

“I love you… Fuck, I love you too Mouse, so fucking much, you have no idea–” He kissed you, and you felt your stomach flip, your heart set aflame. “For so long, even before the auditions–” Another kiss and his hips became desperate, not letting you reply to him at all as your breaths were being knocked out of you, thrust after thrust. “-- You’re mine, you’ve always been mine.”

Your arms wrapped around him again, your walls clenching around his length making him moan your name as he got his hand in between the two of you. His lips smashed against yours as his fingers came in contact with your puffed up clit. Your eyes widened when you felt overwhelmed with sensations, your belly coiling at feeling him brush your g-spot at the same time he rubbed your clit.

“Please, please– Stevie, you are so good–” Your praises fell on his lips and he had to hold on for a bit longer, just a bit longer. He could feel you fluttering all around him so he needed to make you cum around him. He needed to feel you. He was begrudgingly going to admit defeat on not making you cum again, but now, now it was a need. Now it’s a must. After your confession, it’s the least he can give you for having the courage he didn’t have.

“C’mon, one more… One more and I’ll cum…” You knew the climax was going to hit you sooner or later, but the fact Steve was feeling as good as you were feeling was just, making you go a little feral.

“Okay– Okay, pleasepleaseplease–” He didn’t know you were this vocal in bed, but he hoped it was because of him, and he was. You two were vocal and just with eachother. A detail you will learn later on. You felt him rub your clit a little faster than before and you threw your head back on the pillow as you dug your nails into his hair. He moaned as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as his fingers played with your soaked button.

He felt you flutter around him and fuck, he was going to cum. He can’t hold it in anymore but he can’t change the pace of anything. He can’t. He needs to feel you around him before he gets to cum. He wants to do it at the same time you do. He wants this with you. This memory. Your eyes widen when you feel your belly burning and your back arched towards him, your walls clenching around his cock.

“I feel you. I can feel you baby, come on… Come on–” And without further encouragement, you clenched tightly around him like a vice, which knocked the breath out of him, his hips stuttering as you came all around him, his name coming out of your lips in a cry of pleasure. He looked at your contorted face for a few seconds before his hips finally stopped and twitched when he came into the condom. You were still gripping him tightly, milking every single spurt of cum he had to give. He gave a few thrusts for good measure to help you ride your orgasm out, until his fingers stopped rubbing your clit.

His head fell, forehead hitting your chest as he breathed heavily, wincing as you slowly started to unclench around him, coming down from your high. He took his hand away from your sensitive nub, and he felt your heartbeat against his head. It was so quick. He is scared your heart will burst at any second.

You on the other hand, you were so exhilarated. You could die right now and you would go happily. Death could take you and you would tell it sure why not. A smile displayed on your face as your tight grip on his head softened, slowly starting to rub circles on his scalp with your fingers, which he responded with a satisfied hum. You were breathing heavily, and he was holding most of his weight up with his hands and knees, but you still felt him all over you.

He gulped as he raised his head from your chest, smiling at you as you connected your eyes with his. He kissed your chest once, then moved up and kissed your collarbone, then your neck, which was all marked up by him, then your jaw, and finally he pecked your lips.

“Hi Mouse.” You give him a content huff, panting into each other's lips.

“Hi, Stevie…” He smiled at you, clearing his throat as he felt his cock soften slowly, moving his hips to pull out from you, eliciting a groan out of the two of you. “Fuck…”

“You can say that again…” Your hands were still in his hair and he chuckled, pecking your lips softly. His heart couldn’t pump more blood than it was right now even if it could, but he had to ask. “Did you mean that?” “What?” He gulped and continued with his question.

“That you love me…” You blinked a few times and you bit your bottom lip as the nerves returned like a bulldozer.

“I… Yeah… for a long time… Did you mean it?” Steve smiled widely, his lips coming in contact to every inch of your face, making you giggle because it tickled in some places, and your heart never felt more warm than it was now.

“Absolutely… fuck, baby, I– How could I not want you? You’ve… been with me even when I was a loser.” You rolled your eyes at him and giggled, shaking your head.

“You were prom king!”

“And a loser! I was an ass! And had no dreams! Well, except one.” Your eyebrow raised in question, wondering what he meant.

“What was that?”

“You. You were.” You felt your eyes fill with tears as the emotions overwhelmed you, realizing the two of you could have had this for so long, and neither of you acted on it. Made something happen, and it only prompted the both of you to waste time.

“You were mine… You are mine, Stevie.” A fond smile spreads on his lips as he leans down and kisses you softly, warmly, with the intent of a forever. And he keeps kissing you. He keeps giving you sweet words, until it's time for the two of you to clean up. The moment he gets up from the bed and you wobble to take a look at him, you gasp, your hands covering your mouth.

“What!? What is it!?” His eyes were worried as he looked at you, and you pointed at his body.

“I– Oh, did I fuck it up!?”

“Huh?” He tilted his head at your question, only for him to look down at himself and for his eyes to widen. “Oh… fuck.”

Your fingernails had scratched him all over. His shoulders, his neck, his back, his arms, his fucking thighs. He’ll get killed, or his scene will be postponed till these go away, though, he doesn’t know if he just wouldn’t forbid you from making more.

But the next day, when the director saw the scratches on his body and the hickies on your neck, he thought it was natural looking. That the makeup artist did an amazing job on the two of you, and the director didn’t even know you two didn’t even go to the person in charge of that. You rolled out of bed because you were running late and you rushed to the studio.

You were happy to be here with him. That it took a practice kissing lesson to be able to be with him. You were nervous, but at least not in the way you were yesterday afternoon. Not in the way of kissing him and him thinking you were disgusting, or deciding it was a bad idea to ask you for this. You were nervous because of his career, because of how this could be seen by his fans, but– You cannot give him up now. Not after all these years of missing out.

He wasn’t going to give up on this either. The moment the movie comes out, the moment this debuts, he will go on the carpet of his premiere with you by his side. He will tell everyone that the woman he kisses for ten seconds at the beginning of the movie is his best friend and the love of his life. He will show you off. He wants everyone to know who was there with him from the very beginning and through every instance of his life, even since he was a kid.

“ACTION!”

And the scene was done in one take, the director praising you both with a–

‘Good job you two! It felt natural!’

end

a/n: i want to be fingerbanged by steve harrington

766 notes · View notes

rhaenyra-storms · 8 months ago

Note

Hiii I hope you are well! I would like to request Cregan Stark x reader where he gifts her a direwolf on their wedding night and immediately regrets it when all her attention is on her new pet and not on him. Thank you 😊

this idea is simply so adorable, i love it!!

pairing: cregan stark x f!reader warnings: cregan being a little jealous, he needs attention (<3), brief mention of reader having had sex with cregan, nudity, reader's house is not specified but it's in the north, cregan and reader are a little madly in love words: 1.1k

masterlist

As a child, you had always wondered what your wedding night would be like. You had fantasised about the man you might marry, about the ceremony and what dress you would wear. Your mother had always assured you that you shouldn't dream too much about it, so the reality of things wouldn't potentially disappoint you.

Growing up in the most southern part of the North, you only ever ventured to Winterfell for a big feast. It was also the only time you were able to meet with Cregan Stark who happened to be the same age as you.

Your parents weren't oblivious to the fact that you seemed to get along well with the young lord and it wasn't a surprise to anyone when your marriage was arranged for years later. As you and him came of age, you had visited Winterfell countless times throughout your teenage years. Cregan had now accepted the title of Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, making you Lady of Winterfell after your planned wedding.

Despite your mother preparing you for the worst when it came to an arranged marriage, you were lucky enough to fall in love with the man you had to wed. Cregan was strong, but gentle and he loved to take you on long walks around the Godswood or even in the forest. His hands were calloused from work and fighting, but they always bore a comforting warmth when they gingerly touched your face.

Your wedding night had been a great feast and you seemed to lose yourself in each other when you were finally alone. The sounds from the people still celebrating downstairs had quiet down and so did the steps of guests returning to their rooms in the castle.

Cregan had wrapped his arm around you as you cuddled close to each other under the wolf pelts. You hadn't bothered to put on new clothes anymore, legs intertwined and your fingers moving over his strong chest.

Your husband planted a soft kiss on the top of your head, his hand gently moving down your spine. "I still want to show you something before we go to sleep, my love," he whispered, his deep voice leaving goosebumps on your skin. You tilted your head up, looking for his grey eyes as you were already wondering what he might have to show you in this moment.

You had already received so many gifts throughout the night, but nothing came close to spending time with Cregan, alone. "Now I'm curious," you chuckled and pushed yourself up a little.

His gaze lingered on your body for a moment and he didn't hesitate to steal a kiss from your lips before he climbed out of the bed. He grabbed his undergarments and a robe from the chair near the fireplace. It was hard to contain your smile when you watched the defined muscles in his back move as he covered himself up.

"Stay here. I promise I'll be right back."

Your husband probably wasn't gone for longer than a few moments, but you couldn't wait to see what he would come up with. You sat up against the headboard and pulled the covers over your body, impatiently staring at the door to your room.

After what felt like an eternity to you, Cregan eventually returned with a small puppy in his arms. A direwolf pup if your eyes didn't deceive you.

"You're joking," you gasped and didn't hesitate to open your arms, reaching out for the pup as your husband sat down on the edge of the bed. "You've been talking a lot about direwolves recently, so I thought this would make a fine gift for the new Lady of Winterfell," he smiled, placing the grey puppy down in your lap.

He was small, but his eyes were full with curiosity as it looked at you. "Is it a boy or a girl? This is wonderful, Cregan, thank you," you smiled, squeezing your husband's hand gently before stroking over the puppy's fur.

"It's a boy, but you can choose its name, of course."

It would take you a little to think about a suitable name, but that surely wouldn't stop you from cuddling the puppy all night long. The direwolf seemed to be content in your presence too as it cuddled into you almost instantly, looking up at you with its big eyes. Cregan watched you with a smile on his face and he took the time to drink a cup of wine and undress once more as you scratched the puppy behind its ears and made sure the wolf knew how adorable it was.

You had always admired direwolves and having your own seemed like a dream in this moment. You didn't even notice that your husband settled back into bed with you, laying down on the pillows next to you.

How much time passed until he broke the silence?

It was adorable to see you so happy. He wanted to see you like this for the rest of his life, happiness in your eyes and that adorable smile on your face. But he couldn't help feeling like he might have robbed himself of your attention for the evening and the following days. There wasn't any hard feelings of course, but he also couldn't resist you when you were right next to him.

While you were scratching the puppy under its chin, Cregan sat up next to you, one arm sliding around your waist. You could feel his breath next to your ear, a shiver running down your spine.

"You forgot me so easily," he joked softly, teeth grazing your ear. A giggle escaped your lips and you turned your head to him slowly, the still unnamed puppy stretching in your lab. "Is someone jealous?" You asked, coaxing a laugh from your husband.

"Maybe. A little. I want head scratches too," he grinned, taking your chin between two fingers and tilting your head more towards him. "I just want a few more kisses from my wife before we go to sleep." His voice got a little deeper with each word, his gaze flickering between your lips and eyes.

The puppy climbed over into his lap eventually, but you were too entranced in your husband's eyes to care too much about it. You brought a hand up to brush a loose strand of dark hair back behind his ear.

"Mhm, I'm sure I can arrange that," you whispered against his lips. Cregan closed the gap between you eventually, the kiss gentle, but passionate.

Even though you did continue to play with the puppy for a little while longer, he felt like the happiest man alive as his arms wrapped around you from behind, feeling your figure against him as he fell asleep slowly an hour later.

He couldn't wait to wake up next to you the following morning. And for all mornings to come.

#cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark headcanon #cregan stark headcanons #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #cregan stark fan fiction #house stark #hotd imagine

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district4loading · 23 days ago

Text

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

Maybe hypnosis is real

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl"

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt.

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it"

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply. Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

#Kiss of Life #Kiof belle #Kiss of Life Belle #Belle #kpop gg #kpop idol #smut #male reader #belle x male reader #hypnosis #hypno fantasy #hypno k1nk #mind control

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l0vergirls · 1 year ago

Text

now that the yandere!batfam has surveillance on you pretty much 24/7, you're taken care of almost everyday. not that you know of, of course.

it took some time getting used to the flowers being delivered to you every couple weeks, but you did appreciate the food getting delivered when you didn't have enough in your fridge.

you're fully aware that the person (or people) sending these to you could be dangerous, but you tried to rationalise it. they apparently already have your address, so if they wanted you dead then they could've finished the job by now.

besides, what harm can a few flowers bring? aside from complete invasion of your privacy through the form of tiny surveillance microphones (which, again, you did not know of).

sometimes, you'd find affectionately written letters. well, letters is an overstatement, they're more similar to notes. the men knew not to leave too many clues that could give them away. they're nothing if not very thorough.

"eat your dinner, beloved. i know it is your favourite."

in elegant handwriting— sharp cursive. very slightly italicised.

"keep smiling, sunshine."

this one was still neatly written in print, but softer and rounder than the last note.

"good luck on your presentation today, y/n."

messier, almost rushed, but not what you'd call chicken scratch. familiar.

"hope you're taking care of yourself, beautiful."

this person had neater handwriting than the last two, though not as elegant as the first note. it seemed gentle, as if the person writing had much respect for the pen and paper.

if not flowers or food, they're small thoughtful gifts.

you'd once found a book on your nightstand; a book that you've been eyeing for the past week or so, but restrained yourself from getting as you've been saving up recently.

it had another small note attached to it, "here, you deserve it."

you should be scared— terrified, even. you should be reporting this to the cops, but what good are gotham's cops anyway?

at some point, you started finding these notes endearing. it's obvious they wouldn't do anything to you, at least not yet, so why stop them? not that you could, if you tried.

these strangers, you've come to realise, are simply looking out for you. taking care of you, when you forget to do it yourself.

the boys, whether through your window or through their cameras, would find you smiling to yourself when you receive one of their gifts.

it only motivates them to do more.

another yandere batfam installment woooop !!! can you guess which boy wrote which note? :⁠^⁠) p.s bruce hadn't left you a note this time ^^" sorry :⁠,⁠-⁠)

#yandere x reader #yandere batfam #yandere dc #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam x reader #dc x reader #— yan writes.#— dc.#— the bats.#— queue got me.

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puffleyia · 9 months ago

Text

After Hours || Theodore Nott

Theodore Nott x fem!reader || 2.3k words

Warnings: Unprotected & clothed sex, p-in-v, Theo speaking some Italian (hope the translations are accurate..) yeah, i'm a sucker for that.

Summary: Exams are two weeks time from now. You've made a deliberate effort to steer clear of your boyfriend, Theo. One unfortunate night, he ends up dragging you into an empty classroom and teaches you a lesson worth remembering.

Author's notes: Hellooo, requests are open ! It's a blast writing ab Theo !! I've only gotten back into writing recently after not writing fics for a good while. sorry if i'm slow at churning out fics. I'm busy!

It was roughly two weeks before examinations, and professors have even stopped giving out homework as to focus students’ time on reviewing for their respective subjects. You’ve been studying your ass off in the library day and night, sometimes offering your friends to join in as well. Though, they quickly get bored as they soon offer to do much more interesting things than studying such as having a go at wizard chess, or exploding snap.

It took a lot of self control not to join them, and it took even more not to just put down your book and see Theo. You had been purposely avoiding him because he would always end up distracting you, one way or another. You always catch him stealing a glance at you, and you would almost squirm at the way he looked at you; severely in discomfort as the tension between you two only continued to rise due to the lack of interaction.

It felt suffocating to say the least, so you even began trying not to even breathe in his direction. Needless to say, the bastard still had his ways. He would sometimes sneak up behind you in the library, as you pore over the shelves, inviting himself in as he grabbed your waist and buried his face in your neck. Another is when he would attempt to ensnare you right after your classes.

In the end, you always found yourself ending up hiding away in your common room. You would get past him just by the skin of your teeth each time, as he used his cunning words and a dangerous tone that was like poisoned honey.

You thought, or, more like hoped it would be a quiet night tonight, staying up past curfew hours at the library and praying none of the professors nor prefects would catch you. Though perhaps you were too engrossed in Advanced Potion Making to notice the echo of footsteps that slowly grew louder as it drew nearer to you. Your ears simply blanked it out as mere white noise.

It had not even registered yet in your head until you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, as someone sat beside you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, as you could see him faintly through your peripherals. “You’ve been so distant lately, amore,” he says, his tone unhappy and laced with a hint of something else you couldn’t quite make out underneath it.

“Sorry, Theo, I-I’m only trying to focus on the exams at the moment. I mean, not in a bad way but, if I spend time with you, I’ll only end up distracted,” you say, trying to clarify yourself to him. Maybe it would’ve been a good idea to tell him sooner. He sighs, “I guess I’ll just have to–” he gets cut off as you both stiffen at the sound of someone approaching.

He hastily places a firm hand over your mouth, silencing your protests, and shoves your book, notes, and quill into your arms. Before you could object, he then relocates you two into an empty classroom, hastily and skillfully sneaking around the halls to get there. It looked unkempt, and it seemed as if it were not used regularly either. He finally released you from his grasp as you gasped for air. “Theo! What the he–” you say, as he quickly covers your mouth again. “Shh, you’re gonna get us caught, principessa.” He says in a low voice, in a near-whisper before he lets go again. “Ahem,” you clear up your throat before you speak, “I-I believe I should get going, Theo.” He furrows his brows at that, frowning slightly. You head towards the classroom’s door, before he grabs you by the waist from behind and pulls you in.

“Who said you were leaving, hm? Are you trying to avoid me again?” He says, as he moved the both of you to sit on one of the chairs. You remain in his arms, unable to get out despite your attempts to wiggle out and you end up on his lap. “Theo.” You say firmly, trying to assert yourself to let him know you really are serious about studying. “Mm, fine, since you’re so stubborn. Tell you what, how about I study with you?” He says suggestively, his voice making you feel things you were not supposed to. Not right now at least.

“Really?” You say skeptically, raising an eyebrow. You place your stuff down, with a dull thud as it is placed on the table. Sounding slightly annoyed, he says, “What's with the attitude, hm? Are you doubting me?” “F-fine, then,” you hesitantly agree, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants to be. Alone with him.

“Brava ragazza,” he says, as he rests his head on your shoulder whilst flipping open your book. You can not help but faintly squeeze your thighs together, you didn’t know most of the time what he was saying when he spoke to you in Italian, but you found it incredibly hot when he did. Your actions do not go unnoticed by him, though he was not going to do anything yet. You pick up your quill, your eyebrows knitting together as you attempt to focus on taking your notes.

“Tell you what, I’ll ask you a few questions to help you. If you get it right, I won’t do anything. If you don't…” He says, his voice trailing off as he does not continue what he was going to say, though the timbre in his voice gave enough implication. You gulp and nod, your throat bobbing as you swallow. You knew you did not really have much of a say, Theo’s done a good job of cornering you. Not to mention the fact he knew you were slightly struggling with potions, too.

“Right then, amore, can you tell me how Golpalott’s Third Law influences the effectiveness and stability of potions?” He asked amusedly, his foot tapping the floor rhythmically. “Uhm,” you say, muttering in an attempt to answer, “Uh, well, it’s... um, when you have a potion with, uh, lots of different poisons, right? So, um, the antidote... it's not just, um, the sum of... wait, no, it's more than that! Yeah, um…” You begin feeling your mouth go dry as the tension in the room fills the air. You feel your heart thump loudly against your ribcage.

“It’s when you have multiple poisons mixed together in a potion, the antidote needs to be more potent or comprehensive to counteract their combined effects.” He says, cockily smirking as he corrects you. Your breath hitches as he takes off your robes and his, tossing it aside as he hikes up your skirt and gropes you. “Theo!” You gasp at his actions. He buries his face on the crook of your neck, as he breathed in your scent before he began kissing it.

“Cazzo,” he mumbles before he spat out another question, “What are the common ingredients and methods used to counteract the effects of different poisons?” You feel the tent in his pants growing, his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. “I–” You manage to get out before biting your lip, stifling a moan. You had reviewed this, but lust simply clouded your mind for you to formulate a cohesive answer.

“Um, er.. D-dittany, for uhm, venom,” you say, as Theo continued teasing you, grinding his hips upwards so that you could feel his dick. You moan at the friction on your pussy, feeling your panties get wet. “I..” You slur, unable to say anything further. “Cockdrunk already, cara mia?” He lets out a guttural laugh, bending you over the table and grabbing your hips roughly as he continues grinding his cock on your pussy.

“Don’t forget, Bezoar, for example–” he grunts, “–is a stone found in the stomach of certain magical creatures like goats. It's known for its ability to neutralise many poisons when ingested. Then there's the Antidote to Common Poisons…” He corrects you, adding more strings of information you probably needed. Though, it was not as if you were paying attention, as you were moving your hips hungrily back onto his dick, only being separated by thin fabric.

“Merda, might as well just fuck you if you keep getting my questions wrong, principessa.” He says, his voice dangerously low as you hear the clink of his belt unbuckling and the distinct sound of his fly unzipping. You look over your shoulder, watching him intently as he pulls down his dark grey boxers and frees his cock. “Theo, please,” you whine, as he smacks your ass and pushes your panties aside. “I thought you were too busy studying? Maybe I should just leave you to that,” he teases you, tapping his dick on your cunt and rubbing it in between your folds.

“No, please,” you plead, and desperately you pressed yourself onto his cock. “Beg, cara mia,” he husked condescendingly, enjoying humiliating you as he continued teasing your wet pussy. “Please, mmhn–” you moan, “I’m sorry, Theo. I-I need it, please, need your cock,” you whimper, flushed from embarrassment as he finally slipped the tip inside you. He pressed inside, at a gruellingly slow pace.

“Cazzo, una puttana così sporca, aren’t you huh?” You could not place your finger on a single word he said in Italian, but your pussy definitely could. He groaned loudly as he grew impatient, shoving the rest of his dick into you. His groin pressed flush against your ass. You moaned loudly at that, and with a swift motion, he reached out and clamped his hand over your mouth. “Shh, cara mia,” he whispers sultrily in your ear as he quickly silences you, unwilling for the both of you to get caught.

You let out a few muffled sounds against his hand as he began thrusting into you, slowly drawing out his cock as he slammed it back into you with such force that the table beneath you shook. “Such a slut aren’t you? Merda,” He rasped as he uncovers your mouth, “yes!” you say, as he’s eliciting vulgar moans from you each time he fucked his dick back in.

He slithered his hand down onto your pussy, rubbing your clit. He leans in, grunting, as he kisses your nape. He sucks on your neck, trailing down to your back, leaving red marks as he sealed each one afterwards with a kiss. “Ti senti così maledettamente bene, amore,” he groaned, only setting his pace rougher as he hit a particularly deep spot inside you, hitting your cervix.

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you whine, as you tried to remain as quiet as you could. Your hands firmly grip onto the edges of the table, your nails digging into it, as he fucks you into oblivion. Tears brim at your eyes, as close them shut. Some teardrops cling onto your pretty lashes, and some flow down your cheek, falling down, staining the pages of your book. He loved watching you cry in pleasure, observing your expressions as he drove himself into you.

He loomed over you, using a hand to cup your jaw to force your head to look up at his face. “Open your mouth, cara mia.” He said, an authoritative tone that rolled off his tongue like butter. You oblige, parting your lips, your tongue lolling out as you do. He spits in your mouth, the hand holding your chin clamping your jaw shut afterwards . “Swallow.”

You do as he says, swallowing his spit as he lets go of your jaw and your head hangs down soon after. With that, he fucks you rougher, his pace frantic. You become nothing short of a moaning mess, he returns his hand to your clit and strokes it rhythmically in time with his thrusts. You let out small whimpers and whines as you feel hazy and drunk on his cock.

Theo, in an intoxicated trance, mutters a string of curses and praises in Italian. You cry out his name in ecstasy with every jab at your sweet spot as he ploughs into you. You feel a familiar warmth pooling at your stomach, only feeling more pleasurable by the second. “Theo, m’gonna cum, T-Theo,” you babble almost incoherently. He leans in briefly, and in a gravelly tone, “Cum on my cock, cara mia.” He says, letting his breath trickle down your neck.

Spasming around him, you dissolve into pleasure as you see stars. You selfishly clench around his dick, as if you wanted to milk him dry. Cumming all over his cock, you quite literally bury your face into your book, in an attempt to muffle the loud moan you let out as you do.

His thrusts grow languid and sloppy, hips stuttering unrhythmically as his climax nears. “Want me to cum inside you, principessa?” He husked, now digging his fingers into your hips as he chased his high. “Yes, yes, mhn–” you chant, unable to think straight. “Theo, please,” you pleaded.

With one final thrust, he groans loudly and buries himself fully inside you and stuffs your pussy with his cum. You felt his cock pulsing inside you, both of you panting as he rode out his orgasm. “Fuck, atta girl,” he says breathily, praising you as he pulls out of your cunt. He watches as you softly moan as you feel white globs of cum trickle out of your folds, dripping down your thighs.

He hastily tucks his cock back into his pants, pulling your skirt back in place as he walks (more like carries) you back to your common room that night before he headed back to his. Well, it was safe to say you definitely got nothing done that night, though he makes it up to you the following afternoon by actually helping you study with potions.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #thedore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader smut #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #harry potter universe #harry potter fanfiction #hp smut #theodore nott x reader

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

hi, i have a request for hotch if that's okay with you :)

when they're on the jet, yn is smiling a lot at her phone so the team starts to tease her because the think that she has a mysterious boyfriend. and she does, but he's sitting right next to her and he's also wondering who's making her smile like that since it's clearly not him

tysm!

Hotch is trying hard to award you your privacy, but your smile makes it difficult. You're actually squared away from him despite sitting in the seat beside him of your own free will, your phone to your chest, a huge smile curved across your cute mouth. 'Cute mouth', Hotch thinks to himself with derision. He's thoroughly whipped for you. It might not work out.

You've been secretive and strange on your phone for an hour now. With nothing left to do but wait for the jet to touch down, you can watch whatever or text whenever you want. Hotch just wishes it wasn't so distracting. Who are you texting? He feels ill.

"Who's that?"

The dam finally breaks. As soon as Morgan asks, Emily pipes up, "Yeah, who is it?" as Rossi laughs and declares, "I know that look. Young Y/N's in love."

You side eye Hotch. "Workplace harassment," you say.

"Who is it?" Hotch asks.

You gawp but laugh at his unprofessional questioning, pressing your phone screen tight to your chest. "Hotch, it's–"

"Your not-so-secret boyfriend? Come on, we all know you have one," Morgan says.

"I know you know, you're like sharks," you say, giving them all a great long look.

For weeks now, you've glowed. This overzealous smiling and laughing is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Your nosy coworkers can't hold back their curiosity any longer. Hotch was stupid enough to think that your secretive dates and nights spent curled in on one another might be the reason behind your new hopped up sprightliness, but apparently not.

"So you admit it!" Emily cheers.

"Maybe. But it's not what's happening on my phone."

"Well, what is it?" Spencer asks.

They've leaned in on you, a circle of eager faces. Your sudden decision to admit you —maybe— have a boyfriend is as much as anyone's gotten out of you in weeks. If anyone could tease the truth from you, of course it's Hotch, and so the team looks to their leader pleadingly.

He's not sure he wants to know. "They won't leave you alone otherwise," he says, hoping that his expression shows his leniency. Your secrets are your own if you want to keep them.

You smile at him. Again, he thinks you have a cute mouth, and that he's biassed but you definitely smile sweeter at him than anyone else. You and Hotch know something the others don't, amusement like light behind your irises. "I'll show you," you say smugly, "and only you, Hotch."

"Typical," Morgan murmurs, sitting back on the couch.

Hotch clenches his sweaty palms beneath the table. "Alright."

You lean in against his shoulder. Your phone turns on, and he's taking deep breaths as you click to your photo app, and then an album labelled with a simple, '<3'.

It's photos of him. Most he knows you took, sitting across from you in dark restaurants or kneeling in your apartment putting together a new set of drawers. Your giggles begin in earnest as you swipe through them to a more recent photograph. You couldn't have taken it more than a week ago, when he'd stayed the night with you by accident, too tired to leave. His face is slack in sleep. He realises it's a video when you click a button and the sound of crinkling fabric plays from your speaker. In the video, you unbutton the tight collar of his shirt, stroking his neck briefly with a loving knuckle. The video moves down to frame his arm, his hand clinging to your other one like a sucker.

Hotch looks up from the video and blinks at you. Your hand on his sleeping neck, the sound of your tired laughter —he can't not smile. "Oh. That's…"

"What did you show him?" Morgan asks, his voice coloured with both amusement and frustration. The team echo his question.

"I can't kiss and tell," you say, still tucked up by his side.

"I think it's best if you don't, L/N," Hotch agrees.

He'd lose all credibility.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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captain-huggy-bear · 8 days ago

Text

Little Moments

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jack occasionally making more mature jokes cause he's just a silly guy

Summary: Jack finds out he's going to be a dad for the first time, maybe he's a little overexcited aka a collection of snapshots throughout your pregnancy.

Notes: Nonnie gave me the confidence to try writing Jack, I'm hoping it's okay...also the jelly cat mentioned is here

Nappies = diapers

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

When they ask you to take a pregnancy test at the hospital because you've been violently sick for 2 weeks, you scoff. You can't be pregnant because Jack and you haven't been trying and you've been using two forms of contraception. It's nigh on impossible for you to be pregnant, statistically speaking it's just not going to happen.

It's not that either of you don't want children, god knows you do, but you're recently married and you wanted some time to settle into that role and dynamic, the new house as well, without an additional person...especially because you knew without a doubt that once you had one, Jack would want another baby, and another, and another. You'd never be just Mr and Mrs Hughes again, it would be Mr and Mrs Hughes and their children.

It's the amount of care that you've both put in to avoiding pregnancy that makes you so certain you're not. So you expect the test to come back negative.

But, there you are...sat on the edge of a hospital bed, slippers almost falling off your feet because Jack couldn't find yours so he brought you his, staring at a pregnancy test with two clear, solid lines.

Pregnant.

Pregnant when statistically it should be improbably, nigh on impossible. Pregnant when you've been married a month...pregnant because your husband is clearly ridiculously fertile. Of course Jack would be, the amount he wants kids and family, it was probably some genetic advantage. Of course you'd marry the one guy who could knock you up when actively trying not to do so.

You don't look up when he enters your hospital room, arms full of snacks and drinks, cap on backwards keeping his hair out of his baby blue eyes. He looks far too cozy and far too sweet for a man who's about to put your body through some extreme changes.

"So, I got you some M&Ms and a orange juice..." Jack trails off noticing the way you're sat, hunched over, staring at your hands, "You okay, baby?"

"Um, I..."

"What's wrong?" Jack's quick to drop everything on the hospital bed, moving between your legs, hands smoothing up and down your thighs. His eyes dip down to the test in your hands, the two strong lines he can see, so strong that there's very little doubt what the result is. The dots starting to connect for him, you being sick for 2 weeks straight, you being tired all the time, wanting to eat foods you normally wouldn't...the ridiculous amount of sex you had on your honeymoon even though you both were using protection, "Are...are you..."

"Yeah..." You finally meet his eyes, the hopefully little look on his face makes you feel mildly better because you can see how hard he's trying to contain his excitement. It's clear from the way he bites his bottom lip, from the way Jack's fingers grip your thighs to stabilise himself.

"Well, fuck..." Even as he says it there's a little smile starting at the corners of his mouth, teeth starting to show, eyes starting to crinkle.

"Yeah,"

There's a beat of silence. You processing the fact that right now there is a human being growing inside you, part you, part Jack and him watching you for your reaction. Jack can't say he's not nervous, not when you don't look overjoyed and it's that apprehension that has him trying to get a laugh out of you.

"Guess I have strong swimmers, huh?"

"Jack!" You whack his shoulder with your hand and he catches it, thumb stroking over your wedding band even as you glare at him. He can't help but stand a little closer, your legs pushing further apart so he can fit.

"What? C'mon, that's impressive right? Condoms, the pill and you still got pregnant?" He's grinning at you proudly, like it's a badge of honour to have managed to knock you up despite trying to avoid that happening at all costs.

You groan out loud, head falling to Jack's chest, forehead pressing into the centre of his hoodie. His hands come up to the back of your head, stroking over your hair soothingly before trailing over your shoulders, down your back. He's gentle, soft with it and had you been able to see you would have seen his expression shift to one of anxious worry, apprehension at your less than excited reaction.

"A...are you...are you not happy, baby?" He's scared that you'll turn around and tell him you don't want the baby, that this isn't what you want. Sure you've talked about the possibility of kids in the future, but neither of you were expecting to have this happen right now. It's a lot for anyone, especially for the person who's body is doing all the hard work. He'd understand if you weren't happy, even though he desperately wants you to be.

"I...I'm just shocked. I want a baby with you, of course I do, you'd be such a good dad...but, I guess I wasn't planning on it right now and I'm..." You're mumbling into his chest as he strokes down your back, your arms wrapping around his waist tight to give you some sense of comfort as your entire world is turned upside down by the reality that you're going to be a mum sooner rather than later.

"You're?"

"Scared...what if I do something wrong? What if I'm a bad mum?"

"Angel, look at me," You finally look up at him, chin resting on his sternum and he looks down at you like you're talking crazy, big blue eyes wide and honest, "You are going to be amazing. You're going to be the best mum...and we're going to have a baby!"

It's his excitement, the grin that reaches Jack's eyes that has you finally cracking a smile up at him. That familiar giddy sensation of joy filling your chest because you're having a baby with Jack...with your husband and yeah, maybe this is sooner than you would have liked, but you still wanted a baby with him and...and he's so excited and he's so good with kids and you'd give him an entire hockey team of babies if he asked.

"Yeah, I hope they have your eyes." You smile up at him and suddenly all that fear, all that apprehension that you weren't going to be happy about this goes, suddenly he knows that it's going to be all good, all okay.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Mmm, you have such pretty eyes."

"Well, I hope they look like you...my pretty wife....and I'll teach them how to skate, and how to play hockey, oh and take them out on the lake in the summer!"

Suddenly it doesn't feel quite so scary, with Jack rambling about all the things he's going to do with your child and how he can't wait to tell his parents and his brothers. Leaning against him, just looking up and watching how excited he is, puts to bed any fear because you're not doing this alone, you've got your husband and it'll be okay.

Jack's got you. Both of you.

"What's that?"

"The results..." The envelope shakes in your hands as Jack comes in from the cold, taking his hat off and throwing his puffer jacket over the back of a chair.

"The...the sex of the baby?" You'd done a blood test 2 weeks ago to find out the sex of the baby, too eager to wait another 2 months for the ultrasound to be able to tell.

"Mmhmmm...I'm too nervous, you open it!" You shove the envelope into Jack's hands. Even though you'll be happy with a boy or a girl, there's something about the anticipation that has your stomach in knots. Were you going to be like Ellen and have a million baby boys or would you be the exact opposite and only have girls or would you end up having both at some point?

You watch him carefully, hands at your mouth, nervously biting on a nail as he rips open the envelope and pulls out the letter. His eyes scan the text quickly, giving very little away until...until there's a shift, a raising of his eyebrows followed by a bright grin as he looks at you.

"We're...we're having a girl..."

"A girl?"

"A girl!" He's so excited that the letter is dropped to the floor almost as quickly as his own knees fall to the ground in front of you with such a resounding smack that you wince on his behalf. He's pressing his cheek to your tummy in an instant, even though it's not very large yet at all, barely a noticeable bump.

"Hey, baby girl..." You can't help the tears that start to form as Jack starts to talk to your belly, to the baby, to your baby girl, "It's your daddy here...I'm going to teach you how to play hockey and we're going to get you in the NHL, show all those boys what for, right?" Your hands find their way to Jack's hair, stroking through it as he talks to your belly, his arms wrapped tight around your hips.

"Not the PWHL?"

"Uh, we're a family of record breakers, angel. She's going to the NHL like Manon Rheaume and she's going to be there until she retires." He grins up at you, teeth showing as you brush a strand of hair off his forehead and back out of the way.

"What if she doesn't want to play hockey?"

"Then I'll love her anyway..." He turns back to your belly, talking in a soft, sweet tone, "don't worry, baby girl, you can do whatever you want. I don't care if you hate hockey, as long as you're happy..."

You can't help the tear that slides down your cheek because how lucky are you? How lucky is your baby girl? To have a dad who doesn't care if she hate everything he loves, as long as she's happy, as long as she's healthy...god, she's so loved already.

"Okay, don't look, close your eyes!" You roll your eyes underneath Jack's palms.

"You're covering them, why would I need to close them?!"

"Just do it, angel!"

"Fine!" You close your eyes beneath his palms, trusting him to keep you from walking into a wall as he guides you through the house from the living room all the way to wherever his final destination is.

"Lift your foot, baby." He helps guide you up the staircase, hands on your hips that had started to grow wider as you progressed through your pregnancy. He always had a hand on you these days. He was trusting that your eyes were still closed as he ushered you up each step.

When you reach the top of the stairs his hands return to covering your eyes and you shuffle down the corridor until he tells you to stop. You listen to Jack opening a door, probably propping it open before his hands find yours, tugging you forward and to the threshold.

"Okay, open your eyes, baby." You practically gasp when you do, Jack standing proudly in the centre of a nursery. A nursery that was empty all of one week ago, as if he'd somehow clicked his fingers and filled it in an instant.

The walls are a soft pink, stereotypically girlie but you like it, you like that he was willing to make the nursery feminine for your baby girl, just as much as you know he'd change it if your girl decided she hated pink.

The crib is set up by the window, soft curtains diming the sunshine outside just enough. The walls have photos of you and Jack, a few from the start of your pregnancy, your wedding. There are photos of the rest of the family and some empty frames clearly waiting for photos of your baby girl when she arrives. He's even put a few copies of your first ultrasound up.

There's a rocking chair in the corner next to a small bookshelf already filled with books, a space for you to sit with your baby when you're nursing or to read her to sleep when she's being testy. A changing table is already stocked with nappies, baby wipes and powder.

It's sweet and girlish and so so lovely because Jack knows you've been worried about having the nursery done even though you have like 6 months until the baby comes. He knows you've been worried it would get put off because he's away a lot for the season. You'd been stressed that the baby might come without having a space to properly stay.

"How did you..."

"I got the guys to help, last weekend when you went out with my mom. That was a distraction!" He grins at you proud of himself, "Nico, Dawson, Luke, Timo and Jesper came round, we got it all sorted. I didn't want you to be worrying about it anymore, baby."

"Is that...is that why you wouldn't let me in here?" You're feeling teary already, hormones running high and emotions always on a knife's edge. It's so so sweet that he did it, even with months left, the fact he knew it was bothering you and decided to fix it even with his busy schedule? You didn't think it was possible to fall more in love with him, but it seems he's proven you wrong again.

"Yeah, didn't want to ruin the surprise and I had a few more bits to get so it was perfect."

"Jack..." You sigh out at him, face scrunching as you try to contain your tears. His proud little grin drops, Jack thinking he's upset you and maybe he's just made you hate the entire room. Maybe it's too pink? Or not pink enough? Or do you hate the crib?

"...Oh...you hate it?"

"No, no! I love it! I love you!" You step forward quickly, wrapping your arms around him as you start to cry into his chest because how could he think you hate it? It's the best nursery in the world and he's the sweetest husband in the world. You really can't stop the tears and Jack should be used to them by now, you've been such a cry baby since you found out you were pregnant, hormones doing a number on you and making you even more sensitive.

"Oh, okay! Oh, don't cry, baby!" He's smoothing your hair down, trying to calm you, but once the waterworks start it's seemingly impossible to stop.

"It's...it's the...hormones...'m sorry..." You sob into his chest, Jack pulling you tight against him and rocking you side to side to try and soothe you.

"Hey, it's okay, angel," He can't help but laugh because he knows you're not sad now and he knows how easily you've been brought to tears as of late. Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head, staying there for a moment to breathe in the smell of your shampoo.

At least he knows you like the nursery, he thinks, enough that it made you cry.

"God, I love you, baby..." He sighs into your hair and his words only seem to make you cry just a little harder because how did you get this lucky?

"Jack..." You waddle into the nursery, now feeling so much larger than before. Quite positively and obviously pregnant and finding moving harder each month. Even simply things are harder because you have a beach ball in the way, Jack tells you it's cute and that's the only thing keep you from crying about it.

"What?" He looks up from where he's arranging some toys in the corner. He's developed an obsession with picking up any adorable toy he finds out and about to add to the collection. There's even a cuddly Fin the Orca from Quinn sitting on top of the toy box.

"Why is there a demon in the crib?" You're staring at the bright red plushie, with big elflike ears, horns, pointy teeth and a curly q tail. Trying to figure out why it's there in the first place because it certainly wasn't there yesterday.

You rest a hand on your stomach and the other on the small of your back, watching as Jack picks the weird little plushie up and makes it wave at you with its little arm.

"It's not a demon, it's our baby girl's first jelly cat!"

"Why is it a devil? A gremlin?" You're not entirely sure what it's supposed to be, definitely some sort of monster or creature and obscenely bright in it's colouring. You have to admit it is kind of cute...in it's own way...

"Uh, because of the New Jersey Devils, obviously? Why would I get our special girl something boring like a bunny?" He places the little plush back in the crib gently, patting it on the head in a way that is so endearingly sweet that you can't help but smile at him.

"She's going to be a weird kid, y'know that? You're going to make our baby a weird kid." You joke knowing fully well that you weren't actually popular or cool in school. Jack closes the distances between the two of you, leaning down to talk to your belly, like he's been doing since day one. He yaps at your baby girl none stop, whether she can understand a single word he says or not.

"Don't listen to your mother, you're going to be amazing and awesome and totally popular." He whispers to your belly, hands coming to rest on either side gently stroking your stomach over your t-shirt.

"You want our baby to be a popular girl?" You raise your eyebrows at him and he looks at you in horror like that might be the worst fate imaginable, to have a stereotypical mean popular girl for a daughter. You think it's impossible for her to turn out that way with Jack as a dad, with Quinn and Luke as uncles and Ellen and Jim as grandparents. She's going to be surrounded by so many amazing, kind people that if she turns out mean you'll be shocked. If she's popular you know it'll be because she's kind.

"On second thoughts, be a weird kid, baby girl. Be into taxidermy or something." You feel her kick his hand in response and can't help but laugh at the pair because you already know they're going to be trouble. Your kid is going to be just like Jack, you have no doubt, and you're certain you're going to be constantly amazed by them.

"You're ridiculous."

You're sighing heavily, hands firmly on your lower back at the ache there as you look in the kitchen cupboard for something to eat. You feel so uncomfortable, so heavy, so big, so achy. Everything hurts, your belly is so heavy that it forces your back to arch and as much as you love your baby girl, you really hate how she's making you feel. Even most food isn't appetising at the moment.

"You okay, baby?" Jack watches you from the kitchen doorway, leaning deliciously against the doorframe. How does he manage to look so good all the time? It only makes you feel worse because you want him but don't feel like acting on it.

"No...back hurts, belly is heavy, I can't get comfy and I feel ugly and gross..."

"First off, you've never been more beautiful," Jack frowns at you, hating that you don't like yourself at the moment. He's certain you've never been more gorgeous than now when you're carrying his baby, your baby. But, he can see it, the way you stand uncomfortable and in pain, how that must weigh down on you as your body constantly changes. "Secondly, c'mere."

Jack moves to you, standing behind your back with his head on your shoulder. His arms come around your front, hands resting underneath your belly securely and in one slow move, he lifts and suddenly everything feels better, lighter.

"Oh, fuck..." It's like he's taken 10 pounds off your spine and you can't help but sigh and lean back into him, eyes closing at the feeling because you haven't felt this comfortable in a while.

"That feel good?" Jack grins into your shoulder, happy that he's helping, happy to feel the way you relax into him as he takes the entire weight of your belly into his palms. It's heavy and he knows his baby girl has been giving you a world of aches and pains.

"Mmhmmm..." You hum, sighing deeply with each breath as he just holds you like that, letting you lean your weight back into him and feel free for a moment, feel more like yourself.

"Well, let's stay like this for a little then, yeah?" He doesn't try to move away, not after a minute, not after 3 or 5. He holds your belly for near 20 minutes until your feet hurt from standing and even then he's considering when he can do it again, when he can help make this whole pregnancy just a tiny bit easier for you.

"What are those?" You point at the tiny little outfits that Jack is currently folding on the changing table in the nursery. The clothes you doubt are going to fit into the drawers you have because he keeps buying more baby outfits, what seems like every single day.

"These?" He holds a little onesie up innocently, grey, red and black, with a little New Jersey logo in the corner.

"Yeah, those? You do know she's going to grow out of them within a few weeks, right?" You keep telling him not to buy so many baby clothes because she's going to grow quicker than she can wear them, but he seems unable to resist.

"Then I'll just buy more..." He mutters continuing to fold the next item he'd brought.

"Jack..."

"But, they're cute! Look! It's a little New Jersey Devils snowsuit!" He holds up a big puffy snowsuit and you can't help but shake your head at him because the baby is due in June and there's no way she's going to be small enough by the time it snows to even wear it.

"She's going to be too big by the time it snows!"

"But, angel!" He pouts at you so badly that you can't help but laugh. Jack's handome, pretty, adorable, always, but there's something about fatherhood, about his excitement to provide for his growing family that makes him even more adorable.

"Okay, okay...they're cute and if it makes you happy you can keep buying them..." You concede, even as you know half the clothes aren't going to be worn by your baby girl.

"Thank you, beside, if it doesn't fit her it might fit the next one." His comment has you letting out a shocked laugh and you move closer to lean into him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and holding your belly.

"How many babies do you want me to pop out?"

"Mmm, like a whole hockey team? Call the Hughes' Hockey Club? The Hughes Hornets? The Hughes Harlequins?"

"You're planning on killing me with babies?" You're already imagining how exhausting it would be to grow and birth that many babies...you'd do it for him, but...maybe stopping at 3 or 4 or 5 would be better.

"No, sex, obviously." Jack frowns at you and you gasp at his commentary, whacking his chest with a free arm until he grasps it and pulls you close.

"You're such a dick!"

"Hey, you love this dick." He smirks down at you, pressing a kiss to your hand.

"Jack!"

You're exhausted, 24 hours of labour has made it's mark on you. Your skin is ashy and sallow, dark bags under your eyes and sweat wetting your hair and skin to such a moistness it almost seems like you've just come out of a shower. But, you're beautiful to him, laying there with your baby girl in your arms, letting her nurse from you like that.

He's in awe of the way you shift her so naturally against your chest, the way you gentle rub the small tuft of dark hair on top of her head.

"You did so good, baby...look at her, look at you..." Jack is sat next to you on the hospital bed, he's been here for the entire labour, holding your hand and giving you water to drink. He's been amazing, and you know he'll continue to be as you face the challenges of post-birth.

He's gentle as he smooths the hair away from your sweaty face, getting the small strands out of your way as you smile tiredly down at your baby girl before looking up at him once she unlatches from your breast.

"You wanna...wanna hold her?" Your voice is raw, exhausted but no less sweet for it and Jack can't help his enthusiastic nod, arms already in position to take her like he practiced at home. His mum and dad giving him a run down with a teddy bear on how to properly hold a new born. At the time it had felt silly, now he's glad for the confidence it has given him.

You transfer your perfect little girl into his arms, sitting up a little more and shifting so he can sit with her more directly next to you. Your head leaning against his shoulder while he cradles her carefully in his arms like the most precious cargo he's ever had.

"Hey, baby girl...it's me, your daddy...God, I've been so excited to meet you. You're so perfect, just like your mommy..." Jack's finger carefully traces her cheek down to her little palm and she grips his finger tightly, trapping it in that notorious baby grip that has his eyes filling with tears, "I love you so much, both of you," He smiles over at you, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead before returning his gaze back to his daughter.

She doesn't even have a name yet, but he loves her so much already. He knows he'd do anything for you, for her and that's both terrifying and uplifting. To love someone so much you'd risk it all, do anything to keep them safe and happy and healthy.

"She has your eyes," You smile up at him, comparing his baby blues with your daughter's own as she yawns in his arms.

"She has your nose, angel."

"You think?" You squint at her, trying to tell if that really is your nose developing or Jack's more button one...it's hard to tell when she's this small, this young.

"Mmm, poor kid." Jack teases you, grinning, full of excitement, happiness, contentment. His wife leaning against him, his new baby girl in his arms, a sense of humour coming back now you're not constantly carrying around an extra weight.

"Hey!"

"I'm joking, she's beautiful just like her mommy." He presses a kiss to your forehead and you sigh into it, letting the tiredness take you knowing that Jack's got you, he's got you both.

#huggy bear writes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes/reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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