#Dazzling White Town

[torseinen]

[shiningidoll]

[utaitemusic]

(10 seconds beginning silence due to copyright!)

Let's dance to our hearts' content in this brilliant world!

[caramelmochacrow]

idk anything abt lovelive and im not planning on checking the anime bc i dont want to get attached to another idol game/anime by bushiroad but i fucking love dazzling white town.

[shotmrmiller]

smut because somehow i always end up there.

yknow something that pushy ass cbf!johnny would do?

tell you that he'd get more benefits and/or pay if he had a spouse.

"Because you're in absolute poverty, Johnny."

He clicks his tongue. "Be serious, hen."

You are being serious. Johnny's not hurting for cash. His parents are still alive, so he has no need to buy a place of his own, and even then, he just swings by his family's home before coming back to stay with you until leave's over. Honestly, you should be charging him rent.

"Johnny. Unless you're planning on buying another ostentatious vehicle with tires too big for this tiny town, I'm not seeing what you're seeing."

He digs his thumb into the arch of your foot that's draped over his lap. "But think o' the possibilities! If say, you married me, ye wouldn't need to work anymore. Jus' worked on gettin' the job of yer dreams! An' besides, ah'd never realistically settle down anyway; too busy savin' the world an' all."

The extra income must be drastic if he's this insistent. "Why not marry the big brit with the skull for a face? You talk about him enough to sound like you've got a hard on for him."

He avoids your gaze when he informs you that Ghost is already married.

"And what about me? What if I find a boyfriend or something?" you playfully teased. Johnny's bright blue eyes turned to ice.

"Is there someone?" A muscle worked in his jaw.

Dread crawled up your spine. Abort. Abort. "Of course not." The tension melted from his face— gaze gentling and lips softening.

Christ, can he be intense sometimes.

You clear your throat. "Say I do marry you. What do you get out of this as my benefactor? Math isn't mathing, Johnny."

His lips curl upwards in amusement. "Nothin' between us would change. Jus' get a nice, shiny band on my hand tha' keeps unwanted advances off of me, and I wouldn't have to live on base anymore. Tired of eatin' tha' slop at dfac."

Johnny's long fingers curl around your ankle, thumb drawing gentle circles on the bone. "C'mon, hen. Think about your career! Marry me and ye won't even have t'change yer last name, swear."

Once again, fooled by the pretty face and dazzling smile.

You were a MacTavish by the end of the month, and he'd ended up in your bed that same night. Pushed your face into the soft mattress as he bullied his cock into you, telling you to feel how he splits his little wife's pussy open.

Mottled the delicate skin of your neck and collarbone with purple love bites when he hooked your knees over his shoulders, forcing you to take all of him in that devastating angle.

Made you look at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom, one hand gripping your neck, and the other on your swollen cunt, rubbing tight circles on your slippery clit. "Look at how beautiful y'are. How good yer takin' me." He tilts your head upwards, locking eyes with you. "This cunt was made f'me, wasn't it, wife?" he rumbles.

If he said anything else, it was promptly drowned out by a buzzing in your ears as your world went white. Warmth trickled down your legs as pleasure burst through you, spasm after gut-twisting spasm. Johnny blessedly slows down, working you through it tenderly, until you hiss in discomfort from oversensitivity.

"The way ye look in yer pleasure is somethin' i'll see behind my eyelids forever, bonnie."

Heat licks up the sides of your jaw. "Johnny, please—" you cut off, a moan tumbling out of your lips when he presses himself flush against your arse.

"Dinnae worry, ah'm not done with ye jus' yet." There's a hand in between your shoulder blades, pushing down gently. "Bend over, hands behind yer back, Mrs. MacTavish."

ghost is in fact, not married.

and the pay raise is mediocre.

[deathofacupid]

a collection of how the jujutsu-kaisen men would spend your birthday with you!

forget subtle hints, with gojo, you accidentally mentioned you liked the packaging of a new line of balenciaga, and now you're swimming in a mountain of designer clothes so high you need a sherpa guide to find your way out. and that's just the pre-party. the main event? a full-blown, disney princess-level ball, complete with a custom-made ice sculpture of your face and a live performance by, like, a real boy band. he even hired a professional choreographer to teach you a waltz, which is slightly awkward since you mostly listen to rock. "surprise!" he'll beam, somehow managing to look even more dazzling than the chandeliers. you're pretty sure he chartered a private jet just to pick up your dress.

geto's all about the chill vibes. he's declared today "national pamper yourself day," which, coincidentally, also happens to be your birthday. he's booked a couples massage (extra aromatherapy, because why not?), curated a selection of the finest teas, and prepared a mountain of your favorite snacks. the afternoon is spent gossiping about everyone you know, including, but not limited to, rogue curses, gojo's latest antics, and the questionable fashion choices of some of the higher-ups. it's pure, unadulterated relaxation, the kind that leaves you feeling like a brand new, incredibly well-informed person.

nanami's birthday celebrations are the epitome of understated elegance. he's reserved a table at the most exclusive restaurant in town, the kind of place where the waiters wear white gloves and the menu doesn't list prices. he's a perfect gentleman, pulling out your chair, complimenting your dress, and engaging you in stimulating conversation (no small talk here). after dinner, he whisks you away to a secret rooftop garden overlooking the city, where you sip champagne under the stars. it's so romantic, you almost forget he's a jujutsu sorcerer who regularly battles terrifying curses. almost.

choso's gift-giving is a delightful mix of heartwarming and slightly terrifying. he's bypassed the whole "buying things" concept entirely, opting instead for a full-on crafting extravaganza. expect a scrapbook filled with pressed flowers, your favorite song lyrics painstakingly handwritten in blood (his, hopefully), and a collection of "ribbon flowers" that look suspiciously like miniature cursed spirits. he's also written you a heartfelt letter, which, upon closer inspection, turns out to be written on the back of a discarded grocery list. it's chaotic, it's weird, but it's undeniably him, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

toji's birthday plan is refreshingly low-key. he's stocked up on enough pizza and 90s action movies to last a week, and he's cleared the living room floor for maximum lounging potential. he might even crack a smile, which, for toji, is equivalent to throwing a parade. it's the perfect evening for you, because honestly, all that fancy stuff is exhausting. plus, you secretly enjoy watching him try to explain the plot of con air to you for the fifth time.

sukuna's approach to birthdays is… complicated. after a lengthy (and likely heated) discussion with uraume about the "human tradition" of birthdays, he reluctantly agrees to participate. he refuses all help, determined to handle this himself. the result is… interesting. he bakes a cake that's vaguely edible (and possibly glowing), crafts a banner that reads "happy… day," and spends the entire evening looking deeply uncomfortable. but then, when you thank him, he gives you a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, and you know that, deep down (really, really deep down), he actually cares. it's a terrifyingly sweet gesture, in its own twisted way.

[venus-haze]

She's Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Soldier Boy’s been pulled from the European Theater to sell war bonds to the American people, the goodwill tour dotted by big cities and small towns alike. In the meantime, he gets familiar with the variety of women in dazzling costumes that accompany his speeches with carefully choreographed dances. You’re, without a doubt, his favorite of them all.

Note: Female (blink and you’ll miss it implied plus size) reader, but no other descriptors are used. This fic is so short because it’s pretty much PWP. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Dressing room sex, mirrors, breeding kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, overstimulation, implied baby trapping. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Chattering from the packed high school auditorium somehow seeped through the walls. The rural town that was the latest stop in Soldier Boy’s war bond drive had shown up en masse out of patriotism or sheer curiosity. Usually both. Electricity was always in the air before the show in small towns. Some of them didn’t even have movie theaters. 

You and the other dancers on the tour had set up camp in one of the bigger classrooms, using it to get ready in since it was near one of the bathrooms. Dresses, sequins, and makeup scattered about the room, making the place of learning look like a department store had exploded inside. You’d been helping another girl with the curlers in her hair until a masculine voice called out your name from the doorway.

“Soldier Boy wants to see you in his dressing room.”

You nodded, giving an apologetic look to your colleague, who waved you off. It wasn’t unusual for Soldier Boy to call on one of you to help him “warm up” before the shows. Lately, however, he’d almost exclusively been asking for you, to the detriment of your jaw. 

Grabbing a nearby tube of red lipstick, you hastily applied it in the illuminated mirror in front of you. The lipstick residue soon adorned a tissue that you discarded, and you used your fingertips to gently massage the muscles in your face in preparation for taking him again. You hoped you’d at least get to come this time.

A flyer had gotten you to this point, stark white with patriotic motifs, pinned to a board in the nightclub you had been working in prior to getting the gig. Uncle Sam declared, “Ladies, you can serve your country too!” You figured why not, there was a war on, and if you could do something to help, you might as well. 

Your qualifications led you to your local USO office, where you were handed a star-spangled outfit and joined a gaggle of other girls to be the supporting act on Soldier Boy’s war bonds tour across the country. At times, you felt silly, kicking and shimmying to audiences who were clearly only putting up with the opener just to catch a glimpse at the world’s first superhero. A man larger than life in every sense of the word, as you and your fellow dancers on the tour would learn.

Wandering the hallway, you checked each door for an indication of which commandeered classroom was his. Not one for subtlety, his dressing rooms always had ‘SOLDIER BOY’ printed in large letters, declaring his presence. You found the sign toward the end of the hall, giving a smile to the usual group of people who congregated around him, assistants and handlers to keep him on schedule.

You knocked on the door, announcing your arrival. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you asked when he opened the door. 

He smiled, putting his hand on your lower back as he ushered you inside. “Sure did, sweetheart.”

His dressing room always betrayed his vices—alcohol, drugs, porno mags. It didn’t faze you anymore, not like the first time he asked for you, a stuttering mess in his presence. Back then, you had to take a shot with him to settle your nerves enough to blow him without feeling too self-conscious. Now, it was routine. You moved to get on your knees, but he stopped you, to your confusion. 

Instead, he disarmed you with a passionate kiss that nearly knocked you over. You steadied yourself on his strong arms that had made their home near your hips. He squeezed them, pulling you closer so your body was flush against his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

You let him take the lead, he always did—strong, masculine, hard-working. Wasn’t America lucky its hero was easy on the eyes too? Except he had a temper, a mean streak that could go for miles. Not that you’d ever been on the receiving end of it. No, for all his faults, you seemed to get the best of Soldier Boy.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips.

“You have?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re—“ he paused, searching for the word he wanted to use, “special to me.”

You weren’t sure why he was laying it on so thick. It wasn’t your first rodeo with him. “Special?”

“‘Course you are. You wouldn't be here if you weren’t,” he said. “I wanna try something different today, alright, doll?”

“Alright,” you agreed softly.

He smiled. “That’s my girl.”

Your body came alive at his praise, and you pressed your lips to his for another kiss. He guided your body backward until you bumped into the vanity. Parting his lips from yours, he turned you around, bending you over it so you were face to face with yourself in the mirror. 

You looked at him from the reflection, brows furrowed as you wondered what he was doing. 

He leaned down, voice husky in your ear as he growled, “I want you to see how pretty you look when you come.”

Your eyes widened, and you grabbed either side of the vanity in preparation, to his amusement. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck as he pushed up your shimmery skirt, exposing your red, satin panties, specially made to be on display. Soon, your panties were around your heeled feet, one of his hands reaching to play with your clit while the other squeezed one of your breasts through your top.

“We look good together, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he asked, intense gaze studying your reactions.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned, trying to keep your eyes open. 

He always wanted you to look at him. From your knees when you were sucking him off, when he’d be standing on the side of the stage during your act, in his hotel rooms when he couldn’t find local girls to fuck around with. This instance was different, though, able to really see him, and yourself. You didn’t find your glassy gaze or parted lips particularly flattering, but he couldn’t seem to get enough.

His fingers had already brought you close to climax, and you whined when he pulled them away from you for a moment to free his hard cock from his pants. You shuddered, feeling it on your skin before he guided it in your pussy. Your hands curled around the vanity you were bracing yourself on. You weren’t sure if you’d get used to how his cock seemed to split you apart every time.

One of his arms wrapped just below your chest to hold you up, as you struggled to support yourself when he started pounding into you. Your pussy was already wet and pliant for him, and you'd be embarrassed by the obscene squelching sounds if you weren't so focused on getting off when he had brought you so close to the edge already.

You were your own voyeur, your brain feeling like it was going to melt, watching yourself getting fucked by him. His superhuman strength always caught you off guard, from the first time he shocked you by lifting you above his head on stage for a roaring crowd to the way he could make your body feel—and look—like you were little more than a ragdoll. 

“Gonna put a baby in you,” he grunted as he thrust into you, items falling from the vanity and onto the floor at the force he used to fuck you. “Want you up on that stage with my cum leaking out every time you kick up those legs—fuck—you’re mine.”

Your pussy clenched around him at the vulgar image he conjured up. “Yours daddy.”

His voice was strained, words slurring together. He was close. “‘S right, baby. Keep fuckin’ you ‘till you make me one. You like takin’ daddy’s dick, don’t you?”

You had to force the short affirmation out of your mouth, pleasure’s chokehold creeping up on you. That wasn’t enough for him or his ego.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“I love taking—oh fuck—taking your dick, daddy.”

He came, hard and sloppy as your pussy milked his cock. You cried out, feeling so full it almost started to hurt. Something in you finally snapped, releasing the pain and pressure as you rode out your orgasm on his softening cock. Your arms gave out from under you so that it was just his strength holding you up. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to go back to having sex with men who weren’t well-endowed superheroes. Go back to faking it, you supposed.

Your throat was sore. You hadn’t paid attention to how loud you were being. Everyone outside the room must’ve known what was happening if they didn’t have an idea when you first showed up looking for him. 

Soldier Boy pulled himself out of you, and you could hear fabric rustling and the sound of his zipper again. You didn’t bother trying to stand up, still needing time to catch your breath. 

He used his fingers to swipe up some of his cum that had begun dripping out of you, causing you to gasp at the slight sensation of them brushing against your pussy. You whimpered when he pushed his index and middle fingers inside you, already aching from the orgasm he’d just pulled from you. 

“I—I can’t—“

‘I can’t get pregnant and ruin my career,’ you wanted to say, but all that came from your lips was a desperate, animalistic moan.

“I got you, baby,” Soldier Boy whispered, voice low and husky in your ear. “Give me one more so it sticks.”

You choked on air as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing circles in the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers pushed deeper, and your hips bucked at the overstimulation, your spent pussy reactively pulsing around his cum-slicked fingers that curled inside you.

The woman staring back at you in the mirror was a mess with her mascara stained cheeks and smeared lipstick. You were utterly unrecognizable as you came again, harder on his fingers this time, crying out as you gripped the edge of the vanity, threatening to break one of your manicured nails. 

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing kisses to your cheek, as you came down from your second orgasm, pulling his hand from between your legs. “You alright?”

“I think so,” you breathed. “Jesus Christ.”

Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, and you wondered how the hell you were going to be able to dance in less than half an hour. You’d have to reapply all of your makeup too.

He turned you around, looking at you with a brief fondness before kissing your lips, soft and quick. 

“I need to fix my face,” you breathed.

He smiled. “Why? You look great.” 

You laughed softly as he gave you space. You pulled up your panties from around your ankles, knowing his cum would stain them by the time you made it back to the dancers’ makeshift dressing room. Taking some of the tissues from the box on top of the vanity, you began wiping your ruined makeup from your face. He stared at you in silence from the spot he’d taken on the loveseat that’d been brought in for him.

“I think I’d be a good father. Better than my old man,” he said finally.

You paused, looking at him from the mirror, giving him a sardonic smile. “I don’t see you as the settling down type.”

“Maybe I just need a woman worth coming home to.”

“Maybe,” you echoed.

“C’mere.”

You obliged, joining him on the loveseat. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. You let yourself bask in the intimacy.

“Things aren’t always gonna be like this,” he said. “Once the war’s over, what’re you gonna do? Go back to dancing in nightclubs?”

“Why not?”

His jaw clenched, cheek twitching as he pulled his gaze from you. “I don’t want you doing this for anyone but me.”

This could have been any number of things, dancing, fucking, being at his beck and call. Knowing him, he meant all of it.

“Ben,” you said, grabbing his attention, “then you have to tell me what you do want.”

“I want you. I want the white picket fence, kids running around the yard with the dog,” he said, the intensity in his voice wrapping tendrils around your mind, pulling you into the world he was describing. “I want dinner to burn ‘cause I was busy putting another baby in you when I got home.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

A voice through the door startled you. “Soldier Boy, the mayor’s here to see you!” 

“Think about it,” Soldier Boy said, getting up from the loveseat to grab his helmet and shield. 

The door shut behind him, leaving you to agonize over the future he presented to you. Part of you wondered if you’d really have a choice.

[vxtanne31]

GYM Crush

Modern AU Vi/Reader: both Vi and reader are in late 20s/ early 30s

Synopsis: you just moved to a new town and get a gym membership. Little do you know you would catch the eyes of Vi.

Warning: MEN AND MINORS DNI. F/F, switch reader,switch Vi oral(Vi and R receiving) fingering (Vi and R receiving) mentions of smoking, weed use. Mentions of breakups, parent death.

Reader is muscular, athletic, femme Dom, semi masc.

…………………..

New town, new job, new life. This is what you told yourself as you walked into the gym. You had just joined this particular gym because it was a no bs gym. You wanted a place where people were focused on lifting and not on socializing. A gym with little to few people using tripods to film their workouts.

You wore a zip up large black hooded sweatshirt with sweatpants and black converse. You were sweating already from your cardio as you went to the locker room to change for your lifting session. Your headphones were still blasting as you unzipped your hoodie and stripped off your baggy short sleeve you had on under it.

A tap on your shoulder made you jump. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You turned around in your sports bra to come face to face with a pink haired woman. You removed one of your earbuds.

“Oh shit dude I’m sorry!” The stranger exclaimed. They were sincere but you could tell they were trying to hold a laugh. “I was just asking if I could get by you. My locker is next to yours.

“Oh, oh yeah I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have my music so loud.” You closed the locker and moved out of the way for her.

“Thanks,” she gave you a dazzling smile. She was about the same height as you, maybe half an inch shorter. Her hair was shaved on the side and she had the prettiest blue eyes. Tattoos lined the back of her arms to a piece on her back. You couldn’t make out all of it since she wore a grey tank top.

‘Shit I’m staring,’ you thought.

You averted your eyes to put on more deodorant and a tight compression short sleeve. You closed your locker and put your earbud in again to go back out into the gym. You felt a pair of eyes watching you but you didn’t look her way.

Vi was indeed, watching you. Damn she thought you were attractive. She had not seen you before because she would have remembered. You were built too. Definitely spent a good deal of time in the gym. Good, that meant you would be here a lot.

………………….

A day or two later you spotted the gorgeous girl you saw in the locker room lifting with a tall, good looking man. ‘Her boyfriend?’ You thought for a second. Definitely wasn’t the vibe you were picking up from their banter in the corner, but you could be wrong. You looked away to make sure you weren’t caught staring.

You had just finished warming up and were getting ready for deadlifts. It was one of your best movements. Might as well show off.

“Jayce,” Vi whispered excitedly as he finished his bench press.

Jayce sat up and looked at Vi, “she here? Where?!”

Vi motioned her head to where you stood. “Oh her? Yeah she’s cute. Definitely your type.”

“Cute? Wait till she takes off her sweatshirt. She’s fucking jacked.”

Jayce chuckled, “you could always go say hi?” Jayce wiped some sweat off the back of his neck with a towel.

Vi shook her head. “No way in hell dude. She doesn’t want anyone talking to her. Look at her face. If looks could fucking kill… Also what if she isn’t into women?”

Jayce watch as you took off your sweatshirt and got your lifting belt out. Your arms were covered in traditional black and white tattoos, your hair in a bun. Your shirt was tight but you wore loose black sweatpants. “I am not great at clocking lesbians, but I can even tell she’s into women. Didn’t you tell me it’s an ‘energy’ that women give off? Do you feel it?”

Vi pursed her lips and studied you. You had just finished your first reps, watching your form in the mirror in front of you. When you put the bar down, you both locked eyes in the mirror. You smiled at her, making Vi blush at being caught.

“Shit she saw me!” Vi ran her fingers through her hair nervously.

“She smiled at you though. That’s a good sign!” Jayce got up from the bench so Vi could have a turn. “So what do you think? She like girls?”

Vi laughed and nodded, “yeah think so. I’ve been wrong before though. She’s definitely edgy.”

You were finishing up your last set of four deadlifts as you looked over at the girl you saw a few days ago in the locker. She was so freaking hot and toned as hell. You always had a thing for the athletic girls, preferring someone who liked fitness as much as you. You felt so thankful you chose this meathead gym.

……………….

‘This is pathetic’ you thought to yourself.

It had been at least two weeks of both of you saying ‘hello’ when you passed in the gym, the tension unbearable. You cursed yourself for not having the courage to just talk to her.

Meanwhile Jayce kept trying to talk Vi into approaching you.

You walked into the gym right after Vi and Jayce did. They were scanning their ID’s in when you opened the door. Vi froze and watched as you smiled at her, move past her to scan in and walk into the gym.

Vi’s face turned as pink as her hair as she watched you leave.

Jayce snorted in laughter. “Dude it’s getting sad now. Go talk to her.”

Vi glared at her friend and put her elbows on the counter. “Hey can you let me know the name of the girl who just scanned in?” Vi tried to make her voice as sweet as possible.

The bored looking front desk guy shook his head. “No can do, gym policy. Listen to your friend and ask her yourself.”

Jayce let out a ‘HA’ and Vi punched him on the arm. “Ow! Don’t be mad at me because you’re too chickenshit.”

Vi grumbled and walked to the locker room. Looks like she just missed you. She walked out the lifting area and saw you getting ready to bench. Jayce was right behind her.

“Go ask if she needs a spot,” Jayce whispered and gave Vi a little push on the shoulder.

Vi felt her hands clam up a bit as she started walking towards you. But as you were about to look up, Vi turned back around and walked quickly back towards Jayce.

“I-I can’t dude,” Vi stuttered but Jayce shook his head.

“Violet, stop being such little bitch.” Jayce turned his friend around and gave her a shove.

You were watching this exchange out of the corner of your eye and smirked. You pretended not to notice.

Vi sucked a big breath of air through her nose and walked over. “Hey, um do you need a spot?”

You took out your earbud and looked over at her. “Hm? Sorry didn’t catch that.”

Vi couldn’t help the color hit her cheeks at the sound your voice. “I uh- do you need a spot?” She rubbed the back of her head.

You smiled, you didn’t need a spotter since this wasn’t your max day but how could you say ‘no’ to your gym crush? “Yeah that would be nice. I’m y/n by the way.” You reach your hand out.

Vi grabs it, feeling the firmness of your shake. “Violet, call me Vi.”

“Nice to finally meet you.” Vi’s hand is large, warm and calloused. Your hands aren’t really soft either from the lifting bars you grip.

You started your sets, Vi was standing over you, her pretty face in your eye line. She was so hot but seemed so kind. You wondered how someone so good looking could be so nice.

Vi was thinking the same of you. She watched the way your abdominals flexed as you stabilized yourself on the bench, how your arms moved as you pushed the weight up, your eyes flashing up to her’s. Her heart fluttered at the proximity to you. She was thankful Jayce pushed her to do this.

After spotting you, Vi introduced you to Jayce and you greeted him warmly.

After a few moments of small talk there was an awkward silence. “Uh well, thanks for the spot. See you two around.” You turned to go finish your workout.

Jayce gave Vi a pointed look. Vi called out your name to get you to stop. You turned back around.

“Would you like to grab some food after this? There is a diner down the street.” Vi could feel her heart thunder again, waiting for your response.

“Sure that would be nice. See you soon Vi.” You waved at her and put your earbuds back in.

Jayce pat Vi on the shoulder as you walked away. “See!? Wasn’t so hard!”

Vi wanted to slap her forehead. “What if she thinks I’m straight and asking her out as a friend?”

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Sorry to say Vi, nothing straight about you.”

“What if she’s straight?” Vi rolled her eyes at Jayce.

Jayce mimicked her “listen I know I’m the hottest dude here. She didn’t even look at me. And I’m not blind, she was into you.”

Vi smiled sheepishly and walked over to the dumbbell section. “Yeah well gotta get the workout done now to make sure she’s not waiting.”

By the time she had finished, she saw you waiting at the tables by the entrance. You were on your phone, your headphones in as you bobbed your head to the music.

Vi walked in front of you as not to scare you again. “Hey ready to go?”

You took your headphones and nodded, standing up and throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “Yeah, just us? Or is your friend coming?” You watched as Vi’s cheeks turned a little pink.

Vi started to sweat, wishing she came up with an excuse for Jayce not going “I- I figured it would be just us, unless you want to-“ you cut Vi off by grabbing her hand.

“Let’s avoid all this panic. I think you’re hot and I would like to get to know you.” You stepped closer to her, in her personal space.

Vi’s shoulder’s dropped in obvious relief but straightened back up. “Think I’m hot huh?”

You scoffed, “yeah, like you don’t know you’re hot already.” You laughed nudging her shoulder with yours and walked with her outside.

The date went really well. You both learned about one another. You learned that Vi was getting her masters in kinesiology and did boxing in her free time. She learned that you were a powerlifter and did Krav Maga.

Vi was down hard. She loved how much you had in common with her. You were athletic but a total nerd when it came to movies and books. You both sat at your first date for hours until Vi said she had to get to her class.

You both planned to meet at the gym the next day. And so went a routine of working out together and flirting over texts.

“Dude just ask her to go back to your place after? It’s been like three weeks of both of you working out together. It’s cute but come on!” Jayce sat on their couch as he rolled a cig for them. “Why haven’t you met on the weekends?”

Vi ran her hand through her hair as she paced in their living room. They had been rooming together for the past year. “I’ve been busy teaching kickboxing for extra money dude, you know that. Grad school doesn’t pay for itself.”

Jayce finished rolling and lit it, taking a deep inhale. “Just invite her to kickboxing. Teach her a few things… then when everyone leaves you both can roll around the mat and scissor or whatever you lesbians do.”

Vi stopped pacing and gave him a pointed look, she bent over and snatched the rolled cigarette. “Asshole,” she took a drag and then coughed. “Fuck I am so bad at smoking.” Tears pricked her eyes.

Jayce laughed and took it back from Vi. “Yup.”

……….

Vi did invite you to boxing though which you said yes to right away over text. You were so excited to see her outside of the gym. You had been thinking about her almost everyday. Watching her lift could have been foreplay for you. It was so hot how she easily lifted heavy weights, the cut of her tank showing off her chiseled arms.

Vi was dying to kiss you. She loved how hard you worked in the gym, how thick your thighs were. She would stare at your ass while you squatted over twice your weight. The tension was palpable, the adrenaline of the gym combined with the unspoken desire was driving Vi crazy.

You arrived to the boxing gym on Saturday morning, earlier than Vi asked you to. You watched as she trained a group of kids, teaching them how to punch. She didn’t notice your arrival as you sat with the parents and blended in. Vi was so cute with the kids, encouraging them punch harder on the bag.

Vi looked at her watch. She asked you to come at 10:30AM after her last class. It was 10:15AM, you could be there any minute. Vi’s sky blue eyes searched the room and saw you sitting with the parents talking sweetly to a mom. She knew those last fifteen minutes would drag.

You watched as the last few minutes of the class rolled by, talking to one of the mothers about how much her kid loved Vi. “My kid is excited to come here every weekend,” she boasted. “Vi is so sweet with them.”

You nodded and spoke with the mother on how you knew Vi and what a great person she was. You then heard the words you were waiting to hear.

“Okay kids, same time next week!” Vi’s voice rang out as the kids dispersed.

You got up from your chair and walked over to Vi as the kids walked to their parents. She was wearing a short sleeve compression shirt with her hands wrapped all the way up to her elbows.

Vi’s face lit up when she saw you walked over. “Hey there gorgeous,” she beamed and looked over your shoulder, waiting for the last of the kids and parents walk out the door.

It was your turn to blush at Vi calling you gorgeous. “Hey there, was just talking to one of the moms and she was telling me how much her kid loves you.”

Vi smiled warmly and nodded, half paying attention as she watched the last parent and child walked out.

Once you two were the only ones left, the tension thickened, both of you closing the space in between one another. Vi looked down at your lips and then back to your eyes. “Fuck it,” Vi whispered and pulled you in by the back of the neck, lips colliding with yours.

You responded instantly, fingers threading through Vi’s cropped pink hair. The kiss was electric, the weeks of buildup reaching a peak. You pressed your body against Vi, your chest brushing against her’s.

Vi swiped her tongue over your bottom lip, the kiss becoming heavy. She moved a hand between you, her fingers slipping underneath your shirt, feeling the soft skin of your side.

Your hands tugged Vi’s hair, earning you a moan against your lips. You broke the kiss to come up for air, a trail of saliva connected your mouths. Vi’s eyes were dilated, her lids low as she gazed back at your mouth.

Vi wasn’t ready to come back to reality. She captured your lips once more, gripping the back of your thigh and moving you down to the mat. Vi held her weight above you, a knee slipping in between your legs.

You were lost in the moment, the feel of Vi’s soft lips making your head spin. You gripped her slim hips and pulled her down on top of you, your body easily taking her weight. Vi rolled her hips into you, her thigh pressed against your core. You slipped your knee up higher to provide Vi with the same friction.

Vi moaned against your mouth, her pussy aching to be touched. She was soaked, she felt the slickness as she rubbed herself against your thigh. Then, her mind started to spiral. Was this too soon? Did you want this?

Vi broke the kiss, both of you out of breath. “Should we slow down? Shit I don’t know what got over me-“

You cut Vi off with a reassuring kiss,

Your hands roaming her back and up to her ribs. You figured you’d be honest, after all it was obvious that Vi wanted you as much as you wanted her. You leaned to her ear to tell her what you wanted to for a while. “I want to taste you Vi,” you whispered hotly, placing a kiss to her jaw.

That is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, Vi thought, your admission making her clit pulse. “Fuck baby, we need to get out of here,” she sat up on her knees. “My place isn’t far from here?”

You sat up and nodded your eyes tracing over Vi’s body. “Lead the way.” You sat up with her and helped her lock up before you followed her out.

Vi wasn’t lying, her apartment was a few blocks away. She had her fingers threaded with yours as she pulled you along. You didn’t realize how big her hands were until she grabbed yours. I want those fingers inside me.

Vi walked as quickly as she could, the walk feeling like an eternity. She got to the building and pulled you into the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, you pushed Vi against the elevator wall and kissed her, hands moving under her shirt to touch her toned stomach. “Fuck Vi I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you.” You moved your lips to her neck, attacking the sensitive flesh.

Vi’s knees almost buckled from the assault, her body thrumming with excitement.. it was sexy how you just took what you wanted, not shy at all. “Yeah? I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The elevator got to her floor, both of you almost missing the stop. Vi grabbed your wrist and led you down the hall to her apartment. She swiped the key fob and pulled you into the apartment. You were both instantly hit with the smell of weed and the sound of the TV.

“Oh hey you two, ‘bout time.” Jayce sat relaxed on the couch with three of his guy friends playing video games.

Vi wanted to strangle Jayce. “Thought you were hanging out at Victor’s house today?”

“Eh, he was busy, we were thinking about getting food if you guys wanna join?” Jayce smirked, knowing full well what he was interrupting.

“Jayce, get the fuck out,” Vi gritted and pointed towards the door.

Jayce and his friends looked at each other, exchanging knowing glances. You should have been embarrassed but you couldn’t help but snort a laugh at the awkward silence.

“Should I stay at Jack’s house tonight?” Jayce was trying to hide his smile, his lack of hurry obviously pissing Vi off more.

“I will literally pay you to leave right now,” Vi glared.

“Really, how much?”

“Jayce I fucking swear-“

“Okay okayyyy, jeez Vi you really do need to get laid.” Jayce got up from the couch along with his two friends. He walked into his room and got a bag with some extra clothes and a toothbrush. He was about to leave but turned, “hey just wipe down any surface you fuck on after you’re done.”

Jayce’s friends laughed as they all left and shut the door behind them. Both you and Vi looked at each other, cracking a smile.

“Hey I gotta take a quick shower if that’s okay?” Vi took your hand and pulled you towards her. “I’m gross from boxing this morning and teaching the kiddos. You can hangout in my room?”

You nod and lean in to give her a sweet kiss. “That sounds good to me.”

Vi smiled against your lips. “Hope you didn’t have plans for the rest of the day.”

You shake your head. “Nope, all yours.”

Vi’s heart fluttered and she gave you another kiss, leading you into her room. There was a punching bag hung on the wall. It was kinda messy but not terrible. She needed to fold a shit ton of clothes though. “Go relax on the bed muffin.”

“Muffin?” You laughed and sat on the bed, a pile of clean clothes on top.

Vi took the pile of clothes and put it with the other pile. She then handed you the remote to the TV. “I have all the subscriptions, go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” she have you a peck on your lips and grabbed a towel to head to the shower.

You kicked off your converse and sat back on the bed. You felt so relieved that you showered and shaved your entire body before this. You weren’t expecting anything but you wanted to feel sexy before seeing the woman you’d been pining over for months.

You rested back on the pillows, smelling her body spray. Her scent stirred something within you. There was such a magnetic pull she had, like an attraction that was so intense it made your head spin. Vi was also so incredibly kind and loving especially for how she grew up.

Vi told you about her parents dying when she and her sister were young. She told you about how they were adopted by their parent’s friend and grew up in a rough part of town. You knew that you barely scratched the surface of her trauma.

You shook your head of those thoughts for now, knowing Vi wouldn’t want to see you brooding over her at a moment like this. It would have to be questions for later.

Vi was taking the quickest shower of her life, scrubbing her body and washing her hair. She was imagining you sprawled out on her bed, patiently waiting for her to come out. She was nervous as hell though, you were the first girl in a while who made her feel this way. She hadn’t felt this way since her ex Caitlyn.

Caitlyn was from an upper class family, they both attended the same university for undergrad and had dated throughout college to two years after they graduated. Caitlyn dumped Vi for a rich girl Maddie, leaving Vi heartbroken for years. She had tried dating throughout her 20’s but never really found someone who compared.

Now reaching 30, she finally found someone who she seemed to really like. Vi was determined to not fuck it up. She turned off the shower and got out, drying off and preparing herself to see you.

You put on a random movie, trying your best to look calm when Vi walked in. You didn’t want to look like you were counting the seconds till she got back. The sound of the water turning off caused your body to tense, the anticipation of seeing her almost unbearable.

Took a deep breath and leaned over, gripping the sink, a towel wrapped around her waist. Fuck. She forgot a change of clothes. Vi had a choice, to awkwardly scramble to Jayce’s room and pick something out, or just walk into her room like this.

She said she wanted me didn’t she? Vi reassured herself, running her fingers through her damp pink hair. Fuck it.

You heard the bathroom door open, the sound of bare feet padding over to Vi’s room. The doorknob turned and in walked a half naked Vi. Your eyes widened, gazing at her exposed chest. Her breasts were pretty, the nipples a light pink. Your eyes trailed down to her abdomen, lightly freckled to the towel hung low at her hips.

“Have a nice shower?” Was all you could come up with, your face turning red.

Vi smirked, drinking in your reaction to her partially nude body. She turned around to get some deodorant, giving you a full view of her giant tattoo back piece.

“Yeah, all clean,” Vi turned to see you move to sit on the edge of the bed closest to her. Her nerves instantly came back as you reached out and hooked a finger at the white towel around her slim waist, pulling her to stand between your legs.

Vi smelled fresh, her skin was warm from the hot water, her hair was wet and hanging over the side of her face. Her body was impressive, you admired the work she put in to look like that.

Vi was used to being the one in control during sex. Hell, most of the women she was with preferred that. Since Vi was more masc, it was the role she felt like she had to play. But you, you made her feel like she was the one about the be ravaged.

You sensed the shift in Vi and took advantage of it. You stared up into her powder blue eyes and pulled the towel from her waist, letting it fall swiftly to the floor.

Vi stood there frozen, watching your eyes drift over her body. She let you drink her in, refusing to shift under your gaze.

You reached out and trailed a hand from her neck, down to a breast, finger lightly tracing over her nipple. You heard Vi’s breath grow heavier and heavier, watching your hand’s movements. You continued, tracing down her chiseled abdomen, muscles flexing as you made your way down to her sex. She was neatly trimmed with a stripe of pink hair to match her head.

“You’re fucking beautiful Violet,” you whispered as you took your thumb and gently circled it over her clit.

Vi gasped and bowed her body forward at your touch. You took the opportunity to kiss her soft lips, dragging her to straddle your waist. Vi complied and cupped your face, kissing you deeply and arching into your hand.

You continues to circle her clit with your thumb, Vi rocking into your touch. She moved her fingers to your hair to tug.

Vi could feel herself getting wetter by the second, her hips moving to your gentle rubs on her clit. “You’re killing me,” Vi gasped against your mouth.

You fell back onto the bed, taking Vi with you, lips still locked. You pulled at the back of Vi’s thighs signaling her to move her body up. “Then let me taste you. I’ll make you feel even better.”

I’m gonna cum in five seconds if she keeps talking to me like that. Vi’s mouth hung open, eyes hooded as she moved up to straddle your face. Vi saw you reach for a pillow and helped you, placing it under your head.

“Just relax and enjoy the ride…muffin.” You gripped Vi’s hips and raised your head to take a long lick through her wet folds, your eyes closed as you drank her in. She tasted wonderful, clean and a bit like her lavender soap.

“Ha ha- ah,” Vi’s snarky remark was cut short by the feel of your tongue. Vi licked her bottom lip and looked down at you, wet hair falling into her face. She reached down and ran her fingers through your hair. “Go ahead, eat me up baby.”

You moved slowly, dipping your tongue into Vi’s center, then moving up to suck on her clit. The moment you sucked on her clit, she bucked into your face, her pink strip of hair tickling your nose. You moved a hand up to grip her chest, teasing a nipple in between your fingers.

“Ah- fucking hell muffin!” Vi rolled her hips in time with your tongue. She gripped your hair tighter, holding you still to ride your face. The feel of your nose bumping her clit was driving her closer to the edge.

You opened one eye to look up at Vi. She was thoroughly enjoying herself. Guess your nickname was ‘muffin’ now. Coming from Vi it was cute though.

You flattened your tongue so Vi could use your face to get off. Vi braced her hand on the wall next to her bed, the other still tugging your hair.

“Suck my clit again! Please-please ah!” Vi rambled as you complied with her wishes. “F-fuck you feel so f-f-fucking amazing ah! Shit I’m so close baby.”

Vi calling you ‘baby’ made your heart skip a beat. You grasped Vi’s firm ass with both hands and held her in place, sucking her clit.

Vi didn’t have time to warn you. Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her clit pulsing hard in your mouth. She cried out, her voice ringing through the apartment. No wonder she asked Jayce to leave.

Vi released your hair to grasp both hands on the wall, blunt nails scraping against the drywall as she let out a string of curses. After a minute, Vi had to raise herself from your mouth, her clit overstimulated from the intense orgasm.

Vi moved off of your face and collapsed next to you, both hands dragging over her face. “Holy shit that was fucking good.”

You turned to look at Vi’s pretty face, your own covered in her wetness. You wish you could have held her to your face to make her cum for a second time. You gave Vi the space though, waiting until she was ready again.

Vi turned to looked at you, meeting your face, still wet from her orgasm and hair disheveled. It was fucking hot. She reached out and wiped your chin, gripping your face to bring your lips to her’s. The taste of herself on your lips drove her mad. Vi pulled your body to her own, nipples brushing the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” Her hands gripped your chin.

“Then take them off Violet,” you countered, moving down and nipping the pad of her thumb.

Vi groaned at the sound of her full name and attacked your lips with her mouth, her tongue demanding entrance. She unzipped your hoodie, moving it off your body. You helped her remove your clothes, taking off your shirt and sports bra. Vi’s eyes glued at the sight of your small breasts, silver barbells pierced each nipple.

“These are hot,” Vi mused as she brought her tongue to your nipple, the metal barbell clanging against the back of her teeth. You forgot how to breathe as Vi locked eyes with yours, her mouth attacking your breast. She pulled at your sweatpants, her fingers undoing the drawstring.

Vi stood up and pulled your sweatpants and underwear off in one swift motion. Her eyes darkened as she roamed them down to your exposed pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty.” She dropped to her knees, her eyes not leaving your core and grabbed your thighs, hauling you to the edge of the bed. Vi put your thick thighs over her shoulders and placed a kiss to the inside of one of them.

Your breath hitched as Vi nipped at your skin, trailing down to her destination. You were soaked after tasting Vi’s pussy and making her cum. Her taste still lingered on your tongue.

Light blue eyes flashed up to meet yours as she flattened her tongue against you, warm and firm against your clit. You arched your body, crying out in pleasure. Your hand threaded through her pink locks, tugging as Vi gripped your muscular thighs to hold you in place.

Vi was in heaven, her tongue pushed into your entrance then moved to suck your clit. She kept her eyes glued to your face, watching yours as you licked your lips and squeezed your eyes shut. Two long fingers moved down to insert themselves into your pussy, the intrusion making you gasp. You were tight. Vi pumped and curled them in time with her tongue, bringing you closer to the edge. Her other hand moved up and gripped your breast, playing with the pierced nipple between her fingers.

“Ah Vi right there! I’m so close!” Your fingers tightened on her cropped hair, the shaven side grazing and tickling your inner thigh.

Vi sped up, the noise from her licking and pumping fingers seemed to drive you closer to the edge. Vi could feel her own arousal drip down her thigh, your taste and moans making her own pussy throb with need once again.

Your orgasm crashed through you as you called out her name, your thighs grip Vi’s head as she continued to suck your clit, riding you through the orgasm.

Vi moaned as you came against her mouth, your taste driving her mad, her hips rutted against the edge of the bed to seek friction.

After you came down from your orgasm, you had to push Vi off your clit. “Ah shit Vi give me a second,” you panted.

Vi lifted her head slowly, a pussy drunk expression on her face. She whined and tried to pull your legs open again. “But you taste so good.”

You laughed and sat up, Vi still kneeling by the bed. You stared at her strong, naked frame, licking your lips as your eyes trailed down to her sex. You saw how she needed another release.

“Let me take care of that for you.”

“Oh I intend you to,” Vi whispered hotly.

Vi urged you back onto the bed, crawling up to hover her body over yours. You pulled her close, her body now flushed against yours. Vi rutted her hips, your thigh in between her legs. She couldn’t handle the throbbing of her neglected clit any longer.

You could feel Vi grind against you, your thigh now soaked. You moved too hand down and grasped her ass, encouraging her to continue. “You wanna cum on my thigh?”

Vi buried her face in your neck and whined, her hips rutting, clit throbbing against your leg. “You- ah! feel so fucking good.”

Somehow this wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to watch her cum. “Do you have a vibrator Violet?”

Vi froze and sat up to look down at you. “Uh yeah it’s in my drawer. Why?”

“I want to use it on you. Is that cool?” You moved her hair from her face.

More than fucking cool. Vi answered you with a nod and leaned over to her nightstand, pulling out her purple vibrator.

“Oh I have the same one!” You took the toy from her. “Lie back beautiful.”

Vi scooted back onto her pillows, sitting up slightly. You moved next to her by the pillow and whispered hotly in her ear. “Open your legs for me. Let me see you.”

Vi bit her bottom lip, her face already flushed from your words. She opened her legs, her knees bent.

You hummed and turned the vibrator on low, moving to kiss Vi’s neck as you trailed the vibrator to her nipple. Vi jumped slightly, the back of her head hitting the headboard with a ‘thunk.’

“You’re so pretty like this,” you whispered against her neck.

You licked and kissed the tattoo at her neck. You moved the vibrator down Vi’s abdomen, her muscles twitching as you trailed further down to her mound. You hesitated for a moment, but didn’t make Vi wait too long as you brushed the vibrator over her clit.

“F-fuuuck,” Vi’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, body jumping at the sudden sensation. Her knees connected for a second but you used your other hand to force them back apart. You removed the vibrator.

You clicked your tongue, “none of that. Keep those legs apart Violet or I’ll take it away.”

Vi whined and complied, her hand moving to grip the meat of your inner thigh. “Please no, I won’t do it again.”

You smiled against Vi’s neck and moved the vibrator over her clit once more. It was on low, making Vi arch into it hard, craving more. You complied but only turned it up one level. You were transfixed, removing your lips from her neck to watch Vi’s pretty pussy thrust against the vibrator. You looked up to meet Vi’s fucked out expression, eyelids heavy, mouth open, cheeks red, eyes glued to your lips. You kissed her roughly, her mouth slack from pleasure.

Vi moaned against your lips but broke the kiss, a trail of spit connecting you both “Please, I-I need your fingers.”

You gave Vi a lazy smile, stealing one more kiss and moving to settle in between her legs. You turned the vibrator up another level and stared at her as you inserted your forefinger and middle finger into your mouth, sucking on them.

Vi’s head was dizzy with pleasure. Your naked body on full display, the way you kept eye contact, the attention on her clit. It was all too much. She watched as your fingers made the way down to her center.

“Oh fuck fuck, fuck!” Vi moaned as your fingers slid into her. You curled them against the spongy tissue and pumped them slowly, turning the vibrator to the third highest setting.

“Tell me when you’re going to cum pretty girl,” you breathed out, turned on by the display before you.

Vi bowed her head, breathing becoming heavier and heavier as she tipped closer and closer to the edge. “I’m so close, please!”

“What do you want Violet?” You kept the same pace, your head tilted in a teasing manner.

She moved down and grabbed your hand with the fingers inside her. “f-faster, fuck me faster!”

You complied and picked up your pace, watching Vi’s face as her eyes were tightly shut, her mouth hung open. She looked fucking gorgeous as you pushed her to the brink. The sounds coming from her wet pussy was obscene, your fingers soaked . Vi bucked hard against the vibrator. You reached up and kissed the tattoo on her cheek. “Cum on my fingers pretty girl.”

“I’m cumming -oh fuck!” Vi’s walls tightened around your fingers, contracting as she rode out her high.

Vi was vocal, her head thrown back, muscled abdomen tensed and legs shaking.

You pressed soft kisses to the inside of her thighs as you gazed up at the most gorgeous girl you ever laid eyes on. As she came back down, she twitched away from the vibrator. You removed the device and turned it off, placing a firm kiss to her pussy before lying next to her on the bed.

Vi scooted down so she could pull you into her embrace. She kissed the top of your head as you rested your head on her chest.

“Holy fuck that was, yeah, that was the best sex I’ve had in a loooong time.”

You kissed her peck, running your fingers over her belly. “Was gonna say the same thing.”

Vi turned her head down to look at you “yeah? Thank Janna for that.”

After a couple of minutes you both decided to get under the covers. Both you and Vi talked for a long while, about your lives, your family etc. Vi would always be touching you, whether your hand or waist or her leg over your thigh. She would occasionally interrupt your talking with a peck on the lips.

Before long it was dark outside. You both had finished another round of sex and were sweating from the exertion. Vi was resting in between your thighs, her head against your stomach.

“Do you want to wash up with me?” Vi asked hopefully.

“Don’t you want me out of your hair? It’s getting pretty late.”

Vi sat up on her elbows. “I -no! I was actually wondering if you wanted to spend the night. I mean you don’t have to- if you have other plans I get it…” Vi’s voice drifted off, her eyes never met yours.

You ran your fingers through her pink hair, pushing the thick locks from her face. “I’d love to spend the night.”

Vi’s powder blue eyes finally found yours. She gave you the most genuine joyous smile. “I like you… a lot.”

“I like you a lot too.”

………………

Please please PLEASE let me know if you liked it!

[j2hoes]

Let Me Help You. (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Word Count: 6.2K

Steve's got a crush on the girl next door. Though not everything is as it seems.

Warning: Mature language, domestic violence, cheating (kind of, maybe?), smut, p in v sex

Steve knew he was in trouble the moment the moving van pulled to a halt at the house next door. He was never one to make an effort with people, at best he would reluctantly greet any new neighbors with his parents after his mother’s persistence. It’s not like he was being nosy, he just so happened to glance out of one of his bedroom windows as the family exited the van. They looked nice, friendly, nothing too out of the ordinary, just a very all-American couple. Or so he thought.

He continued to watch as they waved for a third person to climb out the vehicle and admire their new home. Steve wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, however, upon seeing her, perhaps he felt differently. She was anything but ordinary, a ray of sunshine in the boring old town of Hawkins. Dressed in a short red dress with a thin white cardigan draped over top, he took note of the way she wrapped the thin material tighter around her body. As though she felt too exposed. Steve admired everything about the mysterious girl, from the dazzling smile on her face, to the way her hair was tied back in an adorable white bow. Heart pounding at an alarming rate, he knew deep down that this girl may very well be the death of him.

In the months that followed, despite Steve’s hope to get to know the girl next door, she seemed to pay no interest in him. They’d exchanged pleasantries, come to learn one another’s names and briefly made small talk if they passed each other outside of their homes. Steve couldn’t understand what he had done wrong, sure, he knew that following his graduation from Hawkins High, he had lost his King Steve ways. Yet, he thought he at least had the same charm, not to mention she hadn’t once seen him in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, so he couldn’t pretend that that’s what had turned her off.

He’d come to understand her routine by now, knowing that she often climbed out of her bedroom window, shimmying down the drainpipe in the dead of night when she thinks nobody will see her. Only to return a few hours later, creeping back into her house before the first crack of dawn, ensuring that her parents didn’t know of her nighttime activities. Sometimes, she gets dropped off by a mysterious white chevy camaro, and whilst Steve never caught sight of the driver, he assumed it was a boy. Heart sinking to his stomach everytime the car would pull into their driveway, knowing that it wasn’t him that she was spending the night with.

He swore he wasn’t obsessed, insisting to Robin that he was just ensuring that she returned home safely after she caught him gazing out of the window one too many times. It’s not like she had no idea who the fascinating girl was, Steve spoke about her often, disguising the very obvious crush as nothing more than an interest in her wellbeing. Robin wasn’t stupid. Knowing her best friend like the back of her hand and it was obvious that he was head over heels in love with this girl that he hardly knew.

Which leads us to present day, Steve was sitting in the alcove of his window, curtains open slightly, blowing gently with the light summer breeze. Fleetwood Mac played softly from the record player beside him, though he wasn’t focused on the music. Eyes drifting between the magazine in his hand to the house next door, awaiting his neighbor’s return. He watched the hands on his watch ominously creep forward and he couldn’t help but feel a pit of worry begin to form within his gut. 04:37AM. She’s normally back by now. Usually climbing back through her bedroom window at around 4AM. 

Deep down, Steve knew that it had nothing to do with him, what she chose to do in her spare time. The pair weren’t even friends, if she wanted to stay out all night then he couldn’t stop her. However, he knew this wasn’t like her. Not wanting to feel like a creep for watching the girl so intently, he did his best to quash the nerves bubbling inside him. Forcing himself to stay awake, no matter how tired he felt or how much his eyelids were desperate for the sweet relief of sleep.

5:49AM. Sometime between now and him previously checking the time, Steve must have drifted into an uneasy slumber. The sound of a car door slamming before revving the engine and flying off down the street is what pulls him back to consciousness. Startling him as he eagerly pulls the curtain back gently so as not to draw attention to himself. Though, when he takes in the sight of the girl, all his excitement at the few seconds he is granted to observe her, vanishes instantly when he notices her appearance. 

Even in the dim orange light, he is clearly able to make out the violent bruise beneath her left eye, swollen to the point she is almost unable to open it at all. Evidently recent, her skin is already beginning to turn a deep mauve. Her lips are no better, mahogany brown lipstick smeared across her face as though a child has scrawled it on. There’s a deep, gaping cut directly through her bottom lip, dried blood in a dirty shade of red cracks in the corner of her mouth. While fresh scarlet liquid continues to fall and drip from the wound, stained across her chin as she shakily brings a hand to her face, attempting to wipe it the best she can.

For the first time in his life, Steve doesn’t know what to do. He’s tempted to sprint down there, offer her any assistance she may need but he’s afraid that it may scare her away. So instead, he watches with a racing heart as she struggles to pull herself through her bedroom window. Clearly having lost any strength she may have had previously. His heart is broken for her and he wants nothing more than to hold her in his arms and tell her that everything will be okay.

Lost in his thoughts, he is completely unaware that the girl has seen him watching. Hastily snapping her curtains closed as she allows the tears to fall freely without prying eyes following her every move. She’s embarrassed that Steve saw her in such a state, oblivious to the fact that he still thought she was the most breathtaking being to ever walk the planet, in spite of her injuries.

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

It had been a week and a half since Steve had caught me returning home, bloody and bruised. Ever since, I’ve been avoiding the boy as much as physically possible. Checking that he isn’t in his window before I make my escape from the house. It’s not like we talk much, Luke made sure of that the second he laid eyes on my neighbor, however, I don’t want him to think any less of me. I was always cautious around Steve, putting on my best display of a pretty, confident girl, even if I felt anything but. That was how I wanted him to perceive me. I certainly didn’t want him to view me as weak, or judge me for what has happened.

Steve caught my eye the minute he entered my family’s house warming party, every lady in the vicinity flocking over to him. Vying for a slither of his attention, yet, I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes kept wandering to mine. Friendly smiles shared between the two of us before a proper introduction from our parents. It wasn’t hard to see why the ladies adored him. He was charming, polite and ever so funny, and despite only talking for a matter of minutes, I found myself entranced by him. Wanting to learn every little detail and explore every inch of his body.

I shouldn’t have thought about him this way, not when I have a boyfriend. However, I simply just couldn’t help myself. Luke has never been a good guy, I knew that when I began dating him, often finding himself in trouble with the police, unafraid to drag me down with him. Though, he was always good to me, at least until I met Steve. For whatever reason, Luke became overwhelmed with rage, something about knowing his reputation and what he was like at school. The night of the party was when Luke laid a hand on me for the first time, a swift smack to the cheek after I mentioned Steve’s name in conversation. Each time it happened, he would continue on as though nothing had taken place. Silently handing me flowers or another small gift the next day, an apology without actually saying the words ‘I’m sorry’. I tell myself that I will leave and never see him again but I continue to run back. Fearful that if I do leave, I won’t find love again.

After checking to find no sign of Steve, I carefully begin my descent down the drainpipe, hopping on to the grass below me when I’m only a few meters above the ground. Brushing my hands to rid myself of any dirt that may have come from the pipe, I turn to begin the walk to the end of the road where I meet Luke and his friends, only to find Steve standing mere feet away. Hands in the pockets of his Levi’s, leaning against the side of his house, having been waiting for me. How did I not see him when he was standing right there?

“I saw you the other night, and I needed to know that you’re okay.” He speaks softly, almost as if he’s scared that I’m going to take off running. His eyes are scanning my face, studying me, attempting to see how bad my wounds were. Unfortunately, my face is plastered in makeup, hiding the unsightly damage.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’m unable to look the boy in the eyes as I lie to his face. Focusing instead on the scuffed converse glued to my feet, trying to think of a thousand different ways to get myself out of this situation.

Steve sighs, pushing himself away from the wall and walking towards me slowly, and whilst doing my best to keep my distance, I find myself with my back pressed to my own house. Almost identical to his positioning only moments ago.

He’s closer now, standing directly in front of me and I can only pray that my makeup combined with the barely there moonlight, truly hides what Luke did to me. With shaking hands, he nervously takes my jaw between his fingers, my breath catching in my throat as he does so. Gently moving my head from side to side in order to truly examine my features. Judging by the look of concern that flashes across his face and the way he takes a deep breath as he lowers his hand, I know he knows the truth.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” He whispers, coffee brown eyes gazing directly into mine, asserting that his words are truthful. “What happened to you?”

Something about him has me hanging on to his every word, believing that I am truly safe with him. Assuring me that perhaps Steve could be my way out, the reason I don’t return. He has such a warm presence, it’s inviting and I just want to spill my guts to him.

Opening my mouth to speak, I’m forced to remain silent as the familiar sound of a car engine grinds to a halt on my driveway. Whether I was going to tell Steve everything or simply deny everything, I’m unsure, but the moment that car appears, my mouth remains shut. Glancing over to the driver’s seat, I can just about see Luke over the beams of his headlights. Fear begins to flood my body as I can see the deep scowl set upon his face.

“I have to go.”

Pushing past Steve, I force myself to muster up a smile, not wanting to give Luke another reason to be upset with me. I mean, I can’t blame him for being mad at me tonight, he warned me to stay away from Steve and yet, he’s caught me red handed clearly disobeying the one thing he asked of me. It definitely doesn’t help that Steve grabs hold of my wrist as I begin to walk away, causing me to snap my head back to look at him. Brows furrowed in annoyance, I know he is just trying to help, to be a good person but he is only going to make things worse for me.

“Please. Don’t go.” His voice breaks, and for a split second I allow my eyes to soften, shaking my arm out of his grasp. Attempting to reassure him with the tiniest of smiles before silently hurrying over to the car.

Luke doesn’t even acknowledge me as I slide in beside him, possessively grabbing my thigh, a display of dominance. He has an eerie smirk on his face, not once taking his eyes off Steve, who stands in the same spot defeated, claiming his ownership over me. As much as it pains me, I keep my head down, sinking further into the seat, wanting to disappear off the face of the earth entirely.

For the rest of the night, my mind is plagued with thoughts of Steve. The hurt in his eyes as I walked away. I can’t bring myself to engage in any conversation that takes place, not like Luke wants me to anyway. He’s icing me out. Clearly upset about the situation he found me in, his friends must also sense the tension as they make no effort to include me.

Beers continue to flow throughout the night, hands shaking every time I place another can into Luke’s hand. He’s driving us home, though shows no sign of stopping despite being on what must be his eighth carlsberg in the span of only a few hours. It doesn’t help that his pals encourage him, egging him on to drink as much as I can, laughing at the idea of recklessly driving through the streets of Hawkins. To them, it’s a game. Let’s see how much we can drink and still make it home, to me it’s a life or death situation. Afraid that in his intoxicated state, we actually won’t make it home in one piece.

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

“Listen Robin, she needs help.” Steve sighs into the receiver, eyes never leaving the window, not wanting to miss the girl’s return. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, she will allow him to help her.

“Steve, as nice as it is that you care, it’s none of our business. Besides, you don’t even know what happened, for all we know she could be in some elusive fight club and the good girl act she has going on is nothing more than that.” Robin twirls the cord of the phone around her finger, she’s never met the mystery girl that her best friend seems to be hypnotized by, worried that he is possibly getting in over his head, if what he is saying is true.

“He hits her Robin! I know it, she won’t admit it but I know he does.” His voice is strained, sounding as though he could burst into tears at any moment and Robin can’t help but feel sorry for him. She’s never seen him care this much about a girl, especially  one that is practically a stranger. Sure, he loved Nancy, but this seemed different. In a way that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. “God, I’d love to know who the bastard is that’s doing this.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there Steve, let’s say for argument’s sake, you’re right. Her boyfriend is a piece of shit and is getting physical with her, in which case she does need help. Question one, what are you gonna do exactly to help her? Question two, what do you actually think you’re gonna do to the asshole boyfriend because last time I checked, you’ve lost every fight you’ve ever been in. And number three, why do you care so much about this mystery girl? I mean, from what I’ve gathered, you know nothing about her other than her name.”

Robin’s words, although intended to help him, hit Steve like a ton of bricks. What was he actually going to do to help her? He hadn’t thought that far ahead, possibly because somewhere deep down he believed that she would continue to refuse any support from him. Nor did he know why he cared so much. It was like there was some magnetic force tugging his heart towards her anytime she was nearby. A pull so strong that he was unable to deny it, not that he wanted to. 

“Fuck, I don’t know Rob, I don’t have a plan okay. I just can’t let her get hurt anymore-” Before Steve can say anything else, he hears the very faint sound of footsteps dragging down the sidewalk outside. Immediately dropping the phone, he’s bolting towards the window, Robin’s voice calling for him distantly. Not even his worst nightmares could’ve prepared him for what he witnessed.

He thought he’d seen her at her worst, nothing surpassing the extent of her previous injuries, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Deep and gaping slash across her forehead, a bright crimson red that cuts off just below her eyebrow. The cut on her lip reopened, once again pouring with blood. All of the makeup that she had left the house in was nowhere to be seen, violet bruises litter her jaw, matching the black eye she is no longer able to hide.

Tears prick at the corner of Steve’s eyes, watching as she carefully limps towards their houses. Struggling to walk, no doubt from the physical pain she is enduring, one arm clutching her side the entire time. Informing him that the wounds on her face aren’t the only ones she has obtained. 

Incapable of holding himself back, Steve is sprinting out of his bedroom and down the large oak staircase. Thanking the heavens that his parents are away on yet another work trip so he doesn’t have to explain everything to them. They wouldn’t understand his need to help, insisting that whatever she was going through was a personal matter and that he shouldn’t be meddling in other people’s private lives.

He yanks the door open with so much force that it thumps against the wall, he’s only two steps outside his house when he realizes that she is standing in front of him. Half expecting to find her attempting to climb the drainpipe, he can’t hide the shock on his face as she stands gripping one of the posts at the bottom of the stairs leading to his porch. She wheezes, breath rattling each time she takes a gasp for air and he knows that’s not a good sign. 

Standing beneath him under the lights from his house, he is able to see more clearly just how bad her injuries truly were. Red marks wrap around her neck, an indication of strangulation and he has to stop himself from breaking down right then and there. Wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and never let go.

“I couldn’t go home.” She chokes out, lifting the hand that clutches her side, hand stained red. Raising his eyes to her stomach, he spots the wet patch on her t-shirt and releases a shaky gasp. Before he can even think about his actions, he is striding over to her, strong arms embracing her smaller figure to aid her into his house.

It’s with great difficulty that they reach the porch, her knees ready to give out at any moment. Though she’d been fighting for this long, she finally loses the last of her energy after completing the stairs. Caught off guard by her sudden fall, Steve almost drops the girl, catching her at the last second and easing her to the wood beneath their feet. He couldn’t lie and say that he isn’t panicked because he is. Completely out of his depth in this situation, he has no idea what to do. Watching her face drain slowly of its color, he knows he’s losing time and yet his mind is blank. Lost on what he needs to do.

Eyelids flickering shut, he sees whatever light she had left in them fading away more and more each time her eyes close. Hands gripping her face gently, his thumbs push loose strands of hair out of her face as he gazes down at her, heart shattering at the thought of losing her entirely.

“Don’t close your eyes, please don’t close your eyes!” Steve sees the slight smile on her face as she listens to his voice, it’s the first time he’s seen her smile in a long time and he thinks to himself that she is still the most perfect girl he has ever laid eyes on. Even if his hands have left bloodied handprints all over her cheeks as he cradles her face.

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.”

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

Soft melodies flutter quietly from down the hallway, the sun beaming through the open windows makes it hard for my eyes to adjust as I prop myself up in bed. Stomach aching harshly as I do so, a tightness making it hard for me to move properly. Lifting the unfamiliar yellow sweater, I find the entirety of my torso wrapped up in a neat, white bandage. Pinned carefully so as not to poke my skin. I struggle to place the bedroom I’m in, it’s unknown to me and still I find myself comforted in this new environment.

My feet follow the sound of the new Queen album, Freddie Mercury’s powerful vocals leading me to the large, open plan kitchen. The distinct smell of grilled tomatoes drifts over to me, a homely scent. Eyes rising from the hardwood floor, it’s only then that I see him, a loose red sweater hanging from his broad shoulder, paired with loose black pajama bottoms that hang low on his hips. He hasn’t noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever he is cooking up to sense my presence, lips mouthing the words to whichever song is playing. The corners of my lips quirk up in a shy smile, imagining a life in another reality where this was how I woke up everything morning.

“Good morning.”

My voice is quiet as I lean against the doorframe, careful not to rest any of my side against the wall. Steve jumps, mouth falling open slightly in surprise as his eyes find mine. My smile grows wider as he drops the wooden spoon he previously held, not caring as it hits the floor with a clatter. He pads over to me eagerly, throwing his arms around my shoulder and tugging me into his chest. I can tell by the way that he’s holding me, he’s scared of hurting me. His touch light, not daring to hold me too tight. However, I do catch the way his grip tightens on the sweater when my arms slide around his waist, allowing my head to rest against his chest. Hearing the steady beat of his heart releases all the tension and stress I had built up within me and I relax entirely.

Much to my dismay, Steve releases me from the embrace after a few short minutes, keeping his hands on my shoulders firmly, worry evident in the browns of his eyes as he makes a mental note of every little cut and bruise on my face. I feel him delicately brush the backs of his fingers down the side of my face, tracing over what I assume is  another bandage of some sort as I no longer feel his touch on my skin when he reaches my forehead. He’s trying his best to hide the frown on his face, but I’m studying him so intently that I don’t miss it.

“I’m okay Steve, I promise.”

“Let me help you.” He whispers, pressing the lightest of kisses to the top of my head as he pulls me in for a second hug, resting his chin on the same part of me that he just kissed. “You’re breaking my heart Y/N, please, just tell me what’s going on.”

With a small sigh, I reluctantly pull myself away from the taller boy. Playing with the hem of the sweater that just about covers me, as I wander over to the kitchen island, taking a seat on one of the many stools. I sit opposite Steve, who stands with his elbows resting against the counter top. Tomatoes sizzling away, completely forgotten about by the both of us.

I have to swallow the lump in my throat, realizing that I am in fact about to confess possibly the most shameful and embarrassing secret of my life to the boy that I have fantasized about since the day we first met. It’s impossible to describe the effect he has on me, only Steve Harrington could be the one to coax my deep dark secrets out after keeping them hidden for months. Only Steve Harrington would be the one person to care enough.

“I don’t really know what to say, Luke was a nice boyfriend at first, he drank too much and got into trouble a lot but he was nice. When I moved next door to you though, he became crazily jealous, he’d lash out at me if I even so much as mentioned your name. Something about a bad past between the two of you. He never used to get physical, it only started a few months back, he would just get so unbelievably angry. It didn’t matter what I did, the littlest thing could set him off and he’d just see red.” Steve has his hands to his mouth as I speak, almost like he can’t believe what I’m saying. His expression is one of pain and I can’t hide the sadness I feel as I tell him the truth. “Last night was the worst. Luke, he drank far too much, a lot more than he should’ve since he was driving. I think he was just trying to scare me by going so fast but we got into an argument and he took his eyes off the road for literally like ten seconds. We almost went headfirst into a huge brick wall but I grabbed the wheel and instead we spun off the road, down into a ditch and hit a tree. I think that’s where I got all the cuts from, the windows shattered and glass was everywhere. I mean, the car is totaled completely. 

Then Luke lost it. He was screaming at me, that it was my fault we crashed. I just remember him pulling me out of the car and wrapping his hands around my throat. Steve, I thought I was going to die.”

I’m staring over at him with such vulnerability that his own gaze softens. Reaching over the counter to wipe away the tears that slide down my cheeks. Movements cautious and tender.

“I think I must’ve kept blacking out because everything after that is a bit of a blur. I remember him being on top of me, punching me and how I struggled to breathe. The next thing I know, I’m on your doorstep, I didn’t know where else to go. My parents can’t know about this, they’d be devastated and well, I feel safe with you.”

Steve’s round the island the second I stop talking, nudging himself between my thighs and taking my hands in his. Thumbs lightly rubbing over the tops of my knuckles. I know in my heart that he is a good man, that he isn’t judging me for what I have been through. Yet, the longer he remains silent, the more I feel the worry gnawing at me. Terrified that he is going to shame me for what I confessed.

“Promise me, you’ll never go back.” Steve speaks firmly, piercing eyes focused solely on my own. Even if I was afraid to leave before, I don’t think I physically can say no to that handsome face of his.

“I promise.”

“Stay with me, for as long as you want. I’ll take care of you, I swear it. I won’t let anybody hurt you ever again.”

The determination on Steve’s face and in his voice has me smiling like a child on christmas. Things would’ve been so much simpler had I met him before Luke. I wouldn’t have endured all of the trauma of the past few months. Though, gazing up at him right now, with nothing but love and care in his eyes, I can’t help but wonder if this is how things were supposed to happen.

“Only if you want to stay here, if you want me that is?” His gaze falters for the first time since I entered the kitchen, fearful he may have overstepped. I know he’s not asking me to be his girlfriend, or for anything serious at all. The question, however, has me feeling slightly dizzy, understanding that he’s asking if I want him to be around. To be by my side and help me through all of this.

“I do want this.”

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

After taking a much needed shower, and pulling the yellow sweater back over my body, I feel content laid in Steve’s bed, aimlessly flipping through one of his magazines as I await his return. The boy was hesitant to tell me where he was going, insisting he just had to run a few errands and that he would be back shortly. He’s only been gone two hours at best and I still find myself missing his warm presence already.

When I hear the faint sound of the main door clicking, my head perks up, moving to sit upright so that I can greet him the second he walks through the threshold of his bedroom. Opening the bedroom door slowly, I notice he keeps his head down, not wanting to look at me. A sharp tinge of hurt flows through me as I watch him silently shrug off his coat, back turned so he’s still facing away from me.

“Steve?”

I hear the sigh escape from his mouth, he reluctantly turns to face me. Head still turned towards the floor but I don’t miss the bloody graze just above his eyebrow. Gasping softly, I scramble to the edge of the bed, raised on my knees in order to take his head in my hands. Accepting that it’s my turn to inspect his injury.

“What happened?”

His hands hold my wrists, finally meeting my gaze as I look at him with curiosity. What sort of errands leave you with a bloody face? I have my suspicions about where he truly was, however, I want him to admit the truth to me, rather than throwing out false accusations.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I just couldn’t let him get away with what he did to you.” His voice is tainted with humiliation, embarrassed by his actions. Though, I couldn’t be more attracted to him than I am right now.

Sliding my hands to the back of his neck, I’m pulling him down to my face before he can even react to what is happening. My lips are on his, kissing him firmly even if it does cause the cut on my lip to sting. His mouth moves against my own, hands settling comfortably on my waist, still careful not to apply any pressure to the bandaged area. I play with the hair at the nape of his neck and can’t contain the soft whine that leaves my mouth when his tongue flicks over mine with ease.

“Please tell me he looks worse than you.” I ask desperately, chest heaving as I regain some air following the kiss. He nods with a chuckle, a shiver running down his spine as I continue to twirl the hair between my fingers.

“Don’t worry, I took care of him.” He tells me, tentatively pushing my body against the bed, crawling on top of me as though he’s done it one thousand times before. “Now the question is, are you going to let me take care of you?”

Nodding my head eagerly, a bright smile settles on my face as he presses tender kisses to my neck, agonizingly slowly making his way down my chest. As best he can with the sweater still covering my body. One hand tightly holds my hip, the other traces my thigh ever so softly. 

My own hands rest in his brown locks, gripping harder when he sucks or nips at my skin. The feeling arouses me even more so and I’m embarrassed to admit just how much I want Steve.

“Take it off.” I whisper as his hands hesitantly play with the hem of his yellow sweater. Before carefully pulling it over my body, displaying my bandaged and bruised body, though he pays no attention to this. Eyes wide, fixated on my chest and the lack of a bra to cover my breasts. If it wasn’t for the look of lust in his eyes, I’d be covering myself up, self conscious of my appearance.

Steve wastes no time, wrapping his lips around one of my nipples, licking delicately while using a hand to palm the other one softly. A breathy moan escapes my lips and in the brief moment we make eye contact, I feel as though I could cum right then and there. 

As his mouth and one of his hands focus on my breasts, his spare hand reaches my panties. Dragging his fingers over the thin material, teasing, he rubs circles, touch barely there though I’m sure he can feel the growing wet patch. I can feel his hips grinding down onto the bed between my legs, attempting to provide himself with some sort of relief.

Cautiously I push on his shoulders, to which he instantly pulls himself away from me. Fearing he may have done something wrong or that I’ve changed my mind. However, when I push him back against the bed and rid him of his clothes, I don’t miss the boyish grin plastered on his face.

Straddling his hips, I begin to grind myself over his erection, lips catching his in a desperate kiss. It’s messy and wet, neither focused on anything more than the pleasure experienced from our movements. He pants and whines softly, hands toying with my nipples, making me breathless. I can feel my side aching at the movement, yet I don’t care to stop, accepting the pain as a result of my need for the boy beneath me.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask through a string of deep breaths, gazing down at Steve with nothing but passion.

He doesn’t even take his eyes off me as he pulls his bedside drawer open before reaching in and handing me a silver packet. I remove myself from his lap momentarily, yanking my panties down my legs faster than I ever have before. When his boxers are removed, I rip open the little packet, rolling the latex down his length. Before dragging my hand up and down it delicately, resulting in a shaky exhale from Steve.

As I position myself above him, tip grazing over my clit gently, he grabs my wrists, eyes locked on mine. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” I reassure him, grabbing his member and ever so carefully lowering myself onto him.

Gasp slipping from my lips as I take all of him inside of me, never having felt so full in my life. Steve’s fingers are stroking my hips, staring at me with an encouraging smile as I work up the nerve to move slightly. A hesitant lift of my hips before pushing myself back down. As I take more and more, I find myself shocked by how easily he slides in and out of me. Bounces easy and indescribably pleasurable.

Pressing my hands to his chest, I find the perfect rhythm, a combination of bouncing on his length, whilst rocking forwards just a little in order to hit the spot deep inside of me that evokes the most toe curling feeling within me. 

Steve’s eyes are closed, deep groans emitting from his throat as his hands knead my ass softly. Hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat and cheeks flushed a deep red, yet he’s still the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

Mere seconds later I find myself reaching the boiling point, gripping Steve’s shoulders tightly as I rock myself through quite possibly the most intense orgasm of my life. Collapsing onto his chest with heavy breaths, his weight shifts under me and he begins to thrust up into me. Chasing his own high. The sensitivity becomes too much and I find myself seeing stars as he releases into the condom with a string of obscenities.

Rolling off him reluctantly, I watch as he rids himself of the latex, launching it into the bin at the otherside of the room. Turning to me, he opens his arms, wrapping me in them gently.

“I will never let anybody hurt you, not again.” He mutters into my hair and I’m unsure whether he’s telling me or himself.

“I know Stevie, I trust you.”

[torseinen]

[shiningidoll]

[sanguineterrain]

Hiii i love your writing SO much💕, you're so good with the characterization of the boys it's crazy. I was wondering if I could request a second part of your dick x assistant fic?

thanks sm! i surely can deliver a 2nd part of these two :3 pt 2 to this.

dick grayson x gn!rogue!reader. flirting, canon typical violence, reader being a brat teehee! all fics are rb to @sanguinelibrary

****

This coffee shop is packed.

Normally, you'd say 'fuck it' and just go without caffeine. But you've stayed late for three nights in a row, and Bruce requested coffee ten minutes ago.

And because you work for the local billionaire, you have to buy from the expensive, organic, ridiculously priced coffee shop across town.

The cashier looks up. "Next?"

You step forward in relief, opening your mouth to recite the order you memorized a year ago, when a man cuts you off.

Oh, hell no.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" you ask, patience finally snapping. The four people behind you also express their anger at the offending cutter.

He turns around, and suddenly you're looking into blue, blue eyes. Dick smiles apologetically.

"Sorry." He turns. "Sorry, everyone! Everyone's coffee is on me."

That soothes the line completely, and a few even clap. You, however, are unamused.

"I've never seen you in this coffee shop," you say, folding your arms as Dick gets out his wallet.

"Really? I'm here all the time," he says easily. He points to you. "I'll order for them as well."

God. He thinks he can just flash his pretty smile and have you eating out of his—

"...And can I get that with no foam? Thank you," Dick says, finishing the order. He pulls out his card. "D'you mind if I pay ahead for everybody here in line?"

The cashier, predictably, is absolutely dazzled by Gotham's pretty prince, their eyes big and awed. They nod as Dick puts four fifty dollar bills in the tip jar.

"I just wanna say that that was so great, what you did for those kids in the hospital last week," the cashier says. "I live in Blüdhaven, and you're definitely our hero. I mean, wow. Between you and me? You outshine your dad, too."

Dick laughs and hands them another fifty. "Well, someone's gotta keep him sharp, right? You have a good day, okay?"

You stand there blankly until someone behind you says, "You gonna move or what?"

Gotham. City of manners.

You leave the line and walk to the pick-up area, where Dick is chatting with another customer. Good God.

"What was that?" you ask, not caring if you're interrupting.

The lady chatting up Dick begins to protest, but Dick quickly soothes her, apologizing profusely. She leaves.

Dick turns to you, cocking his head. "Hi. What was what?"

"I had to order Mr. Wayne's coffee, too. And mine! What did you even order?"

"I got both of yours," Dick says. He holds out a brown pastry bag. "And I got you a white chocolate raspberry muffin."

"I hate those," you lie.

Dick's face falls, crinkling the bag. "Oh. I thought... uh, sorry. Someone said you..."

You're suddenly hyper-aware of what a jerk you're being. What has Dick done to you, besides be a nice guy?

It's just... you know you should be wary. No guy is this nice and polite and pays for coffee and compliments your laptop stickers and laughs at your jokes and doesn't also have a secret. Dick probably goes American Psycho on the weekends, or does pig's blood sacrifices in his basement. Rich people are weirdos.

He did buy you coffee, though. And a muffin.

"Actually. Sorry. I, uh, thought you said something else. I do like those. Thanks." You take the bag.

Dick perks up. "You're welcome."

You eat the muffin, mildly humiliated but extremely hungry.

"Order for Dick?"

The barista slides a cardboard cupholder with three drinks. He smiles at Dick.

"Hey, man. Nice to see ya! Thanks for the save."

Dick waves his hand. "No trouble at all, Darryl. Take care!"

"And how do you know him?" you ask, following Dick to the creamer station. "Or are you going to tell me it's because you're in here all the time even though I've never seen you here once?"

"Okay, you got me," Dick says, smiling sheepishly. "I don't come here. I know that guy 'cause I found his dog. And saved him from a mugging. Nice guy. He's getting married in November."

"He invited you to his wedding?"

"Yeah! Not sure if I can make it, though, which is too bad. They're having it at the Botanical Gardens. I've always wanted to go there."

"What—" You stop, looking down at the cups. One is Dick's iced caramel mocha, one is Bruce's hot black coffee, and the third is your exact order. "How do you know what I order?"

Dick shrugs. "Just noticed when you bring it to work."

You thought Dick couldn't say what he eats for breakfast, much less what you eat.

"Do you stalk me?" you ask.

"What, no! I don't stalk you. I'm just... observant."

"That's exactly what a stalker would say."

"I would never stalk you." Dick raises his right hand. "Scout's honor."

"I doubt you were ever a scout," you mumble, fixing your own drink.

"You're right. I actually got kicked out of Boy Scouts. I wanted to be a Girl Scout 'cause of the cookies. My little brother was a Scout, though. Got an Honor medal. Never let me forget it."

You turn from the counter, suddenly remembering your exasperation. "Mr. Grayson—"

"Dick! Or Dickie, if you prefer. Why won't you call me Dick?"

"Because it's unprofessional," you say frostily, sipping your drink. "You're my boss' son. And I'm not calling you Dickie."

Dick leans against the counter. "But we're friends now, remember?"

"I don't think I ever agreed to that."

"Pretty sure you did! I have an excellent memory."

You sigh. "Just—"

The TV blares loudly, 'Special Report' popping up on screen.

"And in a shocking turn of events, Brendon Sommer was found dead in his apartment this morning, just two days before his trial. D.A. Colson says this is a tragedy but insists that neither he nor the police suspect foul play. Sommer was a key eyewitness to the Maroni case..."

"What the fuck?" you burst.

No. No way. You had him.

Dick squints at the TV. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, no shit! Colson is fucking guilty! That had to come out in the trial!"

He raises his brows. "I... didn't know you were following this case so closely."

Shit. Too much. Dial it back.

You fold your arms. "No, I mean, I'm not. Well, I am, but... it's just that Sommer was an assistant, so it's personal to me. The lowest rungs on the ladder are always getting stuck in the shit."

Dick's eyes turn soft and sympathetic. "Yeah. That's true. He was only trying to protect his boss."

Fat lot of good that did him. Those Fortune 500 hotshots are all the same.

You wonder what Nightwing thinks of all of this. You're sure he's full of righteous fury at Sommer's death, but what good can that do? You were at least trying to stop more little people from getting stepped on.

"I have to go," you say, taking your drink. "I have, uh..."

"Work?" Dick offers.

"Yes. Right. Work." You nod. "Thanks for the... and the... you're really, um—you didn't have to—"

Dick grins. "It's no trouble at all. I'd buy you coffee every day if you'd let me."

Seriously, what is wrong with him?

You can't manage anything but an awkward wave in response, bumping into the shop door on your way out.

You're going to the coffee shop by your apartment next time. You doubt Bruce is lucid enough to know the difference.

****

Beeeeep! Beeeeeep! Beeeeeeeeep!

You wince as the museum alarm goes off. You have maybe two minutes before the cops get here. Inept as they are, you don't want to have to slip out of handcuffs.

Hopefully, he gets here before you...

"I thought stealing diamonds wasn't your thing."

Nightwing lands three feet away from you and the display case with the special ruby on display at the Gotham Museum.

The ruby that's now in your hand.

"It's not. Diamonds are overrated. Rubies, however..."

You toss him the ruby. Nightwing catches it one-handed.

"I don't..." He sighs. "Did you do this to get my attention?"

"Not like I can look you up in the phone book, Wing Ding," you say, strutting past him. "C'mon, we have about a minute before the cops show."

Nightwing grabs your arm. "I don't think so. I have you on two counts of breaking and entering and falsified evidence."

"Wing, baby, you'd have me even if I didn't do all that," you say, patting his arm. "And as much fun as it is to be apprehended by you, I can't play with you tonight. We have serious business."

He presses his lips together, and you watch him fight the battle between doing what's right and what's good.

He finally exhales through his nose and puts the ruby back. Which is fine. The diamond necklace you swiped before he came is safely in your pocket. Just because they're overrated doesn't mean you don't have rent to pay.

"Let's go," he says, stalking out of the museum.

You happily bounce after him. "Oh, Wing, I knew you liked me! Am I your favorite thief with a heart of gold? Be honest. I can tell when you're lying."

"You certainly keep things interesting," he says, leading you up a fire escape and onto a rooftop.

"Why, Wing," you say, skipping behind him. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. I'm choked! I'm touched!"

Nightwing stops and turns, hands on his hips.

"I don't feel good about letting you go, so start talking. What happened with Colson?"

You sober at the mention. "I swear, I don't know. He was supposed to be arrested. I laid it all out."

"You turned him to the cops?"

"Yes. I had no choice. Somebody didn't want to help me bring Colson in."

"The way you were doing it was illegal," Nightwing says.

"Yeah, well, Colson's free and Sommer's dead, so it doesn't really matter, does it?" you snap. "I couldn't even get Colson before killing Sommer."

Nightwing steps forward, frowning. "Hey. His death isn't your fault."

"No? Because I could've done anything to make sure Colson got what he deserves, and they got Sommer anyway."

You take a deep breath. You can't get worked up now. Nightwing is a resource you can use to get Colson.

"Why do you care so much about this case anyway?" he asks.

"Because Sommer gave everything, and he was still disposable. That's how all of us little folk are treated. We're just bricks in the wall."

Nightwing tilts his head. "You're including yourself in this analogy?"

Whoops. You shouldn't be giving personal information away. Dammit. How is he so good at putting your defenses down?

"Well, I do have a life outside of this, Wing."

"Really? I don't," he says, grinning.

"No? Not even a special someone?"

"Hm. No comment."

You try not to deflate at that. "Well, anyway, Colson needs to go down. He can't get away with this."

"The circumstances certainly implicate him. But we have no evidence that he was involved in Sommer's death."

You perk up. "We?"

A sigh. "I suppose we can work together, considering the time you've invested into this case. But I have rules," he says.

You grin. "Sure, Batboy. I'll go slow since it's your first time."

He ignores you. "My first rule is that you can't commit any more crimes."

"What!" you say. "But I'm so good at them!"

"Number two is that we have to do things my way, by the book. We can't rely on illegally-obtained evidence. I will help you with every resource I have, but we have to be good and honest about it."

"You're stifling me already, Golden Boy," you say, spinning around him. "Where's your sense of whimsy and joy?"

"I left it at home. Are we clear?"

You stop and heave a dramatic sigh.

"I guess. Are you really dating someone?"

Nightwing scoffs. "Is this you telling me that you're interested?"

"Well, yes. I can fight, by the way. I'll fight for you, babe."

He smiles. "Eh. They're feisty. They can probably fight better than you."

"Ouch! Who's this challenger? Can they promise a dowry of more than five goats and three cows?"

Nightwing laughs a real laugh. You beam at the sound.

"What would I do with goats and cows?" he asks.

"I dunno. Build a farm, I guess."

"I have to build a farm, too? Sounds like a lot of work."

"Marriage is hard work, Wing!"

"Sorry, my heart belongs to someone else."

"I'll court you, yet. I'm an excellent chef. I'll bring us grilled cheeses next time," you say.

He shakes his head, but his posture is relaxed. "You're unbelievable. Really. Criminal, but..."

"I reject the label of criminal. I prefer 'independent contractor.' Or 'director of joy and whimsy.'"

"Okay, Director. No more breaking into museums," he says.

"But how will I get your attention, O Wise and Beautiful?"

Nightwing gets close, breath fanning your cheek. His hand rests on your back. He tilts his head like he's... like he's gonna—

Your heart stutters.

"You've already got it," he murmurs, tongue resting between his teeth. "Meet me here on Friday. Oh, and..."

Nightwing holds up the diamond necklace you took on a single finger. Your eyes widen.

"How did you—"

He grins. "You wouldn't want these, anyway—they're overrated, remember?" Nightwing shoots his grappling gun to the opposite roof and swings away. "Have a good night!"

You watch as he disappears beyond the skyline. You try to muster anger or regret for getting caught and losing the diamonds, but you can't. If anything's criminal, it's that damn smile of his.

God. You are so screwed.

[ribbonskiss]

ANOTHER ROUND -> CS55

Part 1 of 3. Read Part 2 here.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Summary: A spontaneous night out alone lands you in a new bar in town, owned by a man whose story seems to intersect with yours—not that you know it, yet.

Tags: strangers to lovers, meet cute, pretty fluffy, slow burn, multi-part fic

A/N: okay so I got REAAAALLY carried away with this one so it’ll probably have to be a two or three-parter 😭 in other news, happy new year everyone! I’m excited to be writing more things and sharing them with you all in 2025 ☺️ IF YOU SAW ME PUBLISH THE WRONG DRAFT NO YOU DID NOT

It is eight o'clock in the evening and you’re not ready to go home yet. It’s a beautiful Thursday night, the air is crisp, the city is bustling with people, and the streets are lit up by ornamented lampposts that line the sides of the roads. You stumble out of the restaurant with a satisfied stomach, your leather bag slung over your shoulder, but your legs don't want to take you to the metro. The idea of returning home now when the night is still so young fills you with dread instead of relief.

So you don't. It’s been a while since you’ve had time for a night out—or rather, a while since you’ve allowed yourself to have a night out—and since then, new things have popped up in the city. In the financial district, only a ten-minute walk from your work’s building is a newly renovated record bar that smells like tobacco and leather, now popular with the vest-wearing yuppies; almost directly across it, a respectable upscale quasi-pub where lower-level white collars sing karaoke together after a long week. Away from the business district and just to the side of the city’s centre is an area of distinct character: cosmopolitan but residential, filled with terraced houses and stylish small bars. It’s an area where young parents have to put their little ones to bed, so the little cocktail joints are designed for jovial chatting and conversation, not riotous boozing and bad decision-making. To you, this is the place to be. Naturally, you set off.

The walk is breezy and gentle on your heeled feet; you’re not quite wearing stilettos, but the heels are still dangerously fiddly. A blink of an eye later and you’re turning around the corner into the main street, one side littered with dazzling storefronts that have turned their lights out for the day and bars that have only just started their work hours. You furrow your eyebrows, halting to a stop as you lean up to squint at a sign you don’t recognise. El Matador. You look inside—dark green interiors, tasteful brown leather booth seating, sleek black stools at the bar if you dare approach the broad man in a dress shirt currently turned to the shelves of alcohol on the wall behind him. The place is tiny, cosy, bebop played at a low volume softly transitioning into Sade. The lights aren’t so dim, lamps hanging over the patrons’ heads so the light hits them like a halo. Everyone looks beautiful in here tonight—

—Least of all, the bartender. The moment you settle onto a stool, you regret being so unprepared for such a situation. It’s not that he’s audacious or brash; he’s nothing like a charging bull eager to sweep you off your feet. When he smiles modestly at you, it’s less on his lips than in his eyes, those soft doe eyes that twinkle in the dim lighting, even as his thick arms and messy hair suggest he’s no Bambi. He quickly folds a towel and throws it into a bucket before turning back to you.

“What can I get you?” he says. Thick accent; explains the tan.

Your eyes dart from side to side, looking for any spare menus on the bar counter. He shakes his head, chuckles softly to himself, and the sound of it makes you feel a heat start to pool in your stomach. “Sorry,” he says, seemingly genuinely apologetic. “No menu. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you if I can’t do it.”

You let out an awkward sound that’s somewhere between a nervous chuckle and a sigh of relief. “I’ll just take a gin and tonic,” you say, and he nods briefly before wordlessly turning his back around again. “Good choice,” he says. “Testing the new guy with a classic, ah?”

“So you are new?” you ask timidly, embarrassed at how uncultured you sound. “Sorry—I just haven’t been out for so long, so many of these places seem new to me.”

He glances at you over his shoulder briefly before pouring the tonic over a spoon into the glass. You can’t tell what expression he has on his face, and it makes you chew on the inside of your cheek. “We just opened a week ago.”

“Change of location?”

“Change of occupation,” he smiles, garnishing your drink with an inspired choice of kumquat citrus before serving it to you. He’s rather mild-mannered, and strangely precise for someone new to the business, you think. He points around with his finger. “This is my baby now.”

Your eyes widen. “So you own the place. What were you doing before?”

He winces a bit, and it makes your stomach feel bad and weird when you notice it, hoping to have not offended him. “Finance,” is his succinct answer. “It’s high-pressure. Antagonistic. Then eventually, your conscience catches up to you.”

Ah. You smile bitterly. “I know that all too well.”

He seems to light up at your words, cocking his head a little to the side as he places his rough hands on the counter. “What do you do?”

“Definitely nothing on your level of ranking, if my assumptions are correct,” you say, and it earns you a chuckle from him. “But something similar. Nothing fun, nothing fulfilling, but the situation is stable.”

He nods. “But at some point, life has to be more than just stable, no?” he says, pushing your glass towards you again. “Drink. There’s no poison, I promise.”

You smile, pinching the straw towards your lips with your fingers. He watches you in anticipation. “It’s good,” you say with a satisfied nod.

His shoulders seem to loosen in relief, and it makes you chuckle to yourself. “You’re quite modest for a matador,” you comment.

“Ay, no,” he shakes his head with a smile. “I am not the matador. My father is El Matador.” His eyes drift above your head towards the photo framed on the wall behind you. “He wasn’t thrilled when I went into finance. He was right, it took a lot out of me, but I’m here now and it just made sense to name it after him.”

He lets out a sigh, takes a moment to think to himself before shaking his head. “But I won’t bore you with the details,” he says, hands still firmly on the counter.

It seems more like he doesn’t want to unload on you. And you won’t push him. “But you can make me another drink, yes?” you smile.

With a soft chuckle, he nods. “That I can do,” he says. “What’s your next choice?”

You return the week after on a Friday, after deciding it would be too miserable staying in after a whole day working from home. It’s less the dinner that you’re looking forward to and more so the painting of a bullfighter in red that adorns the wall at El Matador, and you finish up your pasta quickly to take a brisk walk towards the bar. To your surprise, it’s someone else manning the bar tonight, a man considerably more boyish and fresh-faced even with his scruffy facial hair.

You take a seat at the bar again. “Bonsoir,” he smiles, drying his hands off on a towel tucked into his back pocket. “What can I get you?”

You blink, looking around on the off chance the owner will somehow magically appear. The new bartender furrows his eyebrows. “Hello, good evening?” he quips, tilting his head as he looks at you with a puzzled expression. “Ah, I’ve lost her. I must be terrible with the ladies.”

Awkwardly, you laugh and start to explain yourself, but then he does magically appear—from behind the shelves. “We both know that’s not true, Charles,” the tanned man snickers, patting the new boy fondly on the shoulder. “But I’ll take this one, anyway.”

Then he settles in front of you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile.

“You came back,” he says, and you nod affirmatively. “Next time, just ask for Carlos, the better barman—”

“—I heard that,” sneers the man you presume to be ‘Charles’ as he reaches for a liquor bottle on the shelf. It makes you giggle, watching them banter smoothly like this, seeing a side of Carlos that isn’t just quiet introspection.

“How’d you find another bartender on such short notice?” you ask, once the laughter dies down in your chest, leaving behind only a gentle smile.

“I didn’t,” Carlos shrugs, leaning over the counter now. “He just didn’t show up last Thursday—”

“Again, I hear everything you say, and again, that was a mishap in communication,” Charles snaps again from behind Carlos, his peculiar accent growing thicker as his tone turns playfully irritated. The older man simply waves away his words. Soon enough, they take turns narrating the story of how this place came to be (though each insists that his version is the more accurate one, you manage to piece together a more likely timeline from both of their contributions in your head). Charles was Carlos’ co-worker; they were always friends, but work was turning them into fierce rivals; and when Carlos dropped out of the rat race, Charles realised he no longer had his heart in it either. “Why not?” he says, telling the story like a true showman. “I’ve got more than enough in the bank, I’m set for life, and Carlitos bears the majority of the brunt if this falls through.”

“To be clear, he stands to lose a lot as well as an investor,” Carlos clarifies with a roll of his eyes.

“Eh, still,” his impish friend shrugs, with a mischievous smile that suggests an incredible case of the gift of the gab. “Carlos, do you plan on making the poor girl a drink or should I swoop on your customer?”

You end up staying until closing time. Thursdays are the new Fridays, and a spot in this part of town was never going to be bursting with people anyway, especially when it’s new, so Carlos and Charles manage to keep conversation with you just fine even as they’re working. As it turns out, you’re not the only one who’s a returning customer—especially when Charles, with his frisky demeanour and polished looks, has grown adept at attracting a certain kind of clientele. You can see why that is, absolutely, but Carlos catches you off-guard often; you find out that he’s bitingly funny, often going quiet for a few minutes just to slide in with a quip that makes you heave with laughter. He’s lowkey about it, eager to fade into the background as his colleague plays the role of the raconteur, but you notice every little joke he makes, his blink-and-you’ll-miss-it digs at Charles and all of his little expressions when something unexpected happens. Carlos knows that you notice them, too. He’s glad that you do.

Soon enough Charles bids you both goodbye, rambling on about how his girlfriend Alex is waiting for him at home and how she rags on him for having forgotten to bring home a jug of milk three nights in a row. Carlos shoos him away with a smile, wishes him a goodnight’s sleep and sends him off with a pat on the shoulder. And then it’s just you and him, together, alone. He’s turning the lights out one by one, running a hand through his hair as he lets out a long, deep breath, almost as if he’s sad to go home.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” you ask.

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “Absolutely not. You’re a customer. But I suggest you pick up your things now, before it gets too dark.”

You nod, flinging your bag back over your shoulder and picking up your coat. You walk out the door, watching as he flicks the last of the light switches and locks the front door. His keychain jangles; you notice he’s got a charm on it in the shape of a chilli pepper and bite back a smile.

“I hope this isn’t weird.”

He smiles at you, his hand turning the key to finish off the final lock. “It’s not. I’m glad you stayed,” Carlos says. “I’m glad you came back.”

Your stomach is doing that weird thing it always does whenever you make eye contact with him now, but you choose not to read into it. He puts his keys back on the carabiner on his belt loop, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Do you live near?”

“Kinda, yeah,” you answer. “I’m a 20-minute walk away.”

He looks down at your feet. “…Not in those heels, no,” he shakes his head, motioning at you to come with him. “Come. I’m driving you.”

Hesitantly, you walk with him towards a carpark nearby, where a sleek silver Mercedes SUV sits idly. “Jesus,” you chuckle in surprise. “You really were a rank above me.”

“A rank or two,” Carlos shyly admits, reluctant to make a show out of it. He’s walking towards the passenger’s side now to open the door. “Get in, come on. You must be tired.”

He’s right, but you say nothing, thanking him as you slip into the seat. You wonder if you said it too quietly. You wonder if he thinks you’re ungrateful. When he makes it over to the driver’s seat, he tells you to punch your address into the GPS and promises not to break into your home. You laugh and it makes it hard to type the words in fast.

The car sets off and you lean against the leather, eyes shutting for just a moment. Carlos allows himself a split second to glance over at you. “You’re very observant,” he says.

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of his voice. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re a good listener, at least,” he continues, eyes on the road now as his GPS’s voice chirps, telling him which way to turn. “I’ve never made anyone laugh as much as you.”

You turn your head. Even in the darkness of the car, the street lights passing by illuminate his tan skin, sparkling brightest in his eyes. “But you’re very funny, no?”

The words seem to resonate with him, the corners of his mouth twitching for just a second, as if he’s trying his best to not smile. He has very seldom thought of himself that way; in the presence of friends like Charles, or god forbid, Daniel, it is easy for him to fall under the perception that he is a charmless man. He’s never complained or allowed himself an inch of self-pity anyway, but this is nice. This feeling is nice. “I could be,” Carlos says, perhaps pausing a little too long. “I don’t get that one very often.”

You arrive at your apartment block too soon. The car halts gently to a stop; he’s a very smooth and skilful driver, just as smooth and skilful as he is with bartending. You wonder how one man could be so careful with everything as he is—especially a man who had only just left such an aggressive occupation. “Well, this is me,” you say, and he leans over you to look out the window, sizing up your building.

Picking up your things, you try to open the door yourself, but he beats you to it, hand stretching out to tug at the handle. You bow your head down a little in gratitude (what, oh God, who does that, this is so embarrassing) and bid him goodbye, walking towards the front entrance. He watches as you struggle to open the glass door, always underestimating how heavy it is. Carlos chuckles to himself. You don’t hear his engine rev again until you’ve disappeared into the elevator shaft.

Questions? Thoughts? Feedback? Ideas for the next part? Feel free to leave anything you want (except hate mail) in my askbox. All my love <3

[jellymochii]

Passionfruit

°🥂⋆ pairings: aeri uchinaga x fem!reader

°🥂⋆ genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, wlw

°🥂⋆ cw: smut, cunnulingus, mentions of alcohol

°🥂⋆ wc: 2.3k

↪author's note: guess who's back with more aespa wlw hehehe >:), hope you enjoy!

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

To truly be alive is to make the most of every day and live each day like it's your last. That's been your motto for the past 5 years since you graduated college.

You ended up on what you'd call a dead end office job–boring, mundane, and tedious. Well, at least it paid the bills, right?

To say you missed the lively experience of college was an understatement. Non-stop partying on the weekends with all your sorority girls, jello shots all around, even the hangovers before school the next morning–it was exactly the life you loved so much.

And so, every Friday night after work you'd escape your dull 9-5 and life like your youth was on repeat all over again. Nothing could compare to the dazzling show of lights and upbeat music to release you from your fears.

It's at one of these parties where you meet your ride or die best friend, Aeri.

What started out as seeing a pretty pink haired girl standing in the corner of a club with a red solo cup quickly turned into bar hopping on the weekends with her. You always knew that she'd be there dancing and partying alongside you, no matter how bad the hangover would be the next day.

You'd say that you knew each other fairly well–after all, you both shared intimate secrets about your life and office horror stories while drinking too many shots of tequila at a V.I.P. couch. You knew that she too had a job she despised as a CEO’s assistant and retreated regularly on the weekends at the clubs alongside you, and that her only close friend besides you was her dog. What you never seemed to know, however, was her love life. You'd ramble on while tipsy about your ex-boyfriends constantly–but Aeri never seemed to have any expert advice to give you, other than saying “That's why men suck, girl.” to you. But hey, at least she was right–men do suck.

That's how you felt, at least this weekend. Your friend with benefits had ghosted you entirely, and the only swipes you seemed to get on dating apps were pervy old men wanting a younger girl. Gross.

Oh well, at least you could talk to Aeri about your woes over some Pink Whitney tonight–and hopefully forget that shit ever happened.

—--

Chat Log With: Aeri🤞💕

You: Heyyy wyd tonight

Riri: Not much, wbu?

You: Hopefully going out tonight, wanna come?

Riri: Duhhhh babe

You: Sweet! Any places in mind?

Riri: Well there's this new place in town called Passionfruit that everyone keeps raving about, wanna check it out?

You: For sure. 8 as usual?

Riri: Yep! I'll send the addy, don't be late ;)

—-------------

You followed the directions your GPS gave you and ended up in the somewhat run-down part of town, no signs of life in sight. You were a little bit scared hopping out of your car, hoping no one would hop out of the bushes and attack you–but your worries quickly vanished as you heard a familiar voice.

“HEYYYY! Y/N, OVER HERE!” Aeri shouted across the street, waving her arm frantically to get your attention.

You quickly dashed across the street to meet her at the doors of the club. There seemed to be no indication that this was a party of any sorts–no LED lights or bass booming music coming from inside.

“Soooo is this one of those underground places?” You asked, your attention on the seemingly deserted looking lobby.

“I guess so, let's just go in and make sure this isn't some lame ass attorney’s office.” She replied, opening the door and letting the both of you in.

The lobby was bare, repping only a bland white wall and a desk with a flower on it. What did catch your attention, however, was the large man standing by the club entrance glaring at the two of you.

“ID's, please.” The large man demanded, causing both of you to fummel through your purses and hand your IDs to him. He checks them very intently before silently handing them back and nodding, opening the door for the two of you.

The club inside was vibrant, with iridescent purple and red lights dazzled by disco balls scattered around the ceiling. The bar was packed and the pool tables were swarmed with cheers from all sides. Girls were all over the dance floor with each other, drinks in hand and someone's tit in the other. Normally the few women making out with each other in the corner wouldn't pay you mind, but something seemed off.

Wow…there's a LOT of women in here, you thought.

“Hey Aeri…where's the hot guys?” You asked.

“I dunno, they must be - ohhhh. Whoops.” She replied, causing you to raise your brow at her.

“Whaddya mean whoops? Is this a–” You cut off your speech after quickly realizing that this was not, in fact, a normal club.

“Oh, so that's why there's no men.” You answered.

“Sorry girl, I didn't know this was that kinda club.” She replied.

“Eh, it's whatever. As long as there's enough tequila for the two of us.” You responded, ushering Aeri to the now less packed bar.

The rest of the night went surprisingly fun. You and Aeri met a lot of different girls, some single and some with their girlfriends–both the single and taken ones seemed to be interested in you both. Seriously, you'd never gotten this much attention in your life. Girls were swarming to call you “sexy” and “hot mama” just as much as they were to Aeri. To be honest, normally, you'd just laugh it off, but the alcohol in your joint systems made you both flirt back.

“You know what?” Aeri turns to you, “This shit is awesome. This place is my new lesbian paradise.”

Wait, what'd she say?

“What do you mean lesbian paradise?” You ask.

She freezes in place, almost like she turned herself right in.

“Uhhh nothing, forget about it, let's just go dance!” She says hurriedly, grabbing your hand and rushing you to the dance floor.

For the next few minutes you had the time of your life, though still wondering what Aeri meant earlier. The music began to slow into a cheesy love ballad as women intertwined with each other in a slow embrace.

The two of you stood there awkwardly at first, but as you watched the fiery room of passion igniting around you–it clicked.

Aeri liked women too.

Not like she'd be any less of your friend, but a lot of things were starting to make sense–like how she felt strangely at home here and never indulged you with her own stories of men. Your head began to spin as butterflies filled your stomach. You wondered if maybe–she thought you were pretty too?

Well, you were gonna find out, no matter how drunk you were.

“Wanna dance?” You asked, sincerity in your voice.

“Wait..for real? It's ok we don't have to-” You cut off her speech by dragging her to the center and embracing her close.

“Y'know…” You spoke. “...It's cool that you like girls. It must be nice never having to deal with pussy ass men.”

“Wait, who told you I liked girls? I never said-” You pressed your finger over her mouth and shushed her. “It's kinda obvious, silly. I still love ya tho~!” You giggled cheerfully.

A smile rose on her face as her head rested on your shoulder.

“Sooo is it fun kissing girls?” You asked, earning a chuckle from Aeri.

“Yeah, way better than men.” She replied.

“Y'know, I’ve always wanted to know what it's like to kiss a girl. Katy Perry swears it's awesome.” You said. “Maybe I should ask that hot ass masc over there to gimme a smooch.”

“I wouldn't if I were you.” Aeri replied.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause she's a regular here from what the bartender said, she might have STDs or something from all the girls she's slept with.” She replied, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, so, can I kiss you then?” You asked.

“W-w…what?”

“So can I? I really need to kiss a girl Aeri, I need to know if it's better than kissing a man. Help a girl out, please?” You pleaded.

She could tell you were being dead serious despite your now drunken nature. You'd never been this direct with anyone, let alone her. She'd been dreaming of kissing you for God knows how long now, but never said anything because she knew about all the guys you dated.

“Alright.” she sighed, almost contently. “Pucker up, baby.”

And so your lips locked with hers. They were so warm and yet so soft and plump, you felt like you were on Cloud 9. You never wanted to stop, so you didn't. Even if Aeri pulled back slightly out of anxiety, you swooped right back in, ravishing her cherry chapstick flavored lips.

“Why don't we go somewhere more private, ‘kay?” She asked. You nodded, the two of you scurrying through the crowd towards the women's single stall bathroom.

—-----------

The bathroom you and Aeri rushed into was run down and filled with graffiti–but it didn't matter at this point, you needed her.

As she locked the door behind you two, the heated making out resumed once again as she firmly grasped your waist to pull you in and feel your body closer to hers. You, of course, with your liquid courage, decided to go straight for her breasts– and dear god, they were so supple and soft. How have you been missing out on this your whole life?

Your hands roamed her entire body, from the soft skin on her neck to her firm and supple ass. It had never occurred to you truly how gorgeous her body really was, but you felt glad nonetheless to touch her as your tongues collided roughly.

You bit down on her bottom lip, earning a soft moan from her–which sparked something in you.

You wanted her, badly.

“Aeri…c-can I touch you?” You whispered, slowly pulling away from the kiss and gazing deep into her eyes.

“Fuck, I mean… if you want to–but don't feel pressured obviously.” She muttered. You could tell she wanted this almost as badly as you did, but her worries still seeped through the drinks in her system. You'd never kissed a girl before today, let alone pleasured one.

And yet, you felt more ready than ever.

“Hop up on the sink for me--kay’?” You asked, nudging her towards the counter of the bathroom faucets.

“You sure, babe? You don't have to just to make me happy, I promise.” She added, leaning up against the counter and pushing her weight against it.

“Yeah, I'm sure.” You replied.

“Girl, you're drunk as shit.” She giggled, now sat on top of the sink, fingers fiddling with the hem of her skirt and panties.

Your hand assisted her in sliding off her coverings, giving you a full view of her now bare soaking cunt face view to you.

You'd never done this before clearly, but something inside of you couldn't resist even if you tried. Her pussy was glistening right before your eyes–begging to be tasted and worshipped. Besides, who were you to deny her?

Your second thoughts seceded the moment your tongue delicately ran up her slit, causing a whimper to come from Aeri's mouth. She tasted so sweet and yet so warm–your senses were flooded.

You swiftly swiped your tongue across her soaking cunt, swirling around her poor swollen clit. Aeri cried out at the sensations of you ravaging her as she desperately tried stimulating her clit on the tip of your nose, while you moved down to fuck her starving hole with your tongue.

“F-fuuuuck Y/N, just like ngh…that.” Aeri moaned, almost desperately. All you could think about in this state was how pretty she looked with her eyes rolled back as you ravished her. Maybe she'd look even prettier when she came.

And so you decided to speed up the process, sliding your two center fingers into her greedy hole, earning a loud and drawn-out moan from her. God, she was so wet–and all for you. You quickly found your steady pace as Aeri bit her lip and threw her head back in pleasure–but you didn't want her to stay quiet. You wanted to hear every melodic moan that came out of her. You quickened the pace at which you were sliding in and out of her–taking notice of the involuntary squeezing of her walls around your digits.

The drinks in your system couldn't compare to how drunk you were off her pussy right now. Every thought in your head was now turned into a haze as all your senses were focused entirely on the divine goddess in front of you. You could tell by the desperation in Aeri's cries for you that she was close–and you were gonna milk every last drop out of her.

“Mmmm~fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don't stop Y/N!” She moaned, her thighs now tightening around your head.

Your lips latched onto her clit in response and sucked harshly as your fingers trusted in and out of her at a newly fast pace. The pressure around your head increased as you felt Aeri's body begin to violently shudder. Your eyes peeked up to see her eyes rolled up to the heavens accompanied by her cries of pleasure.

“Holy shit–I'm cumming I'm cummi–oh, fuck~!” She shouted as waves of pleasure flooded her entire body–causing her cunt to leak creamy white liquid. You licked her entire pussy up and down, leaving not a single spot uncleaned as you took all of her juices in.

You looked up at her now disheveled figure as your eyes met, a smile crept up on both of your faces.

“Yeah, ok, I'm never going back to men.” You chuckled.

“You didn't have to do that, Y/N.” Aeri spoke.

“I really wanted to, though.”

“You were a natural, Y/N.” She giggled.

“Let's go back to my place. Wanna come back next week, same time?” You asked.

“Definitely.”

[angelicguy]

all the toons of toonville USA quickly gathered for my funeral. this was the first death that toonville had ever had within its borders, so the processions were brief and crass. many of them did not know what had happened to me, and arrived jovial with gifts and favors to share with one another.

a whole line of red and blue convertibles filled the one lane street that led to my body. since everyone in town knew each other, they engaged in bright lively conversation about all the sweet memories they had of me. my birthday, my bris, my several rushed visits to the toon hospital were all discussed among the townsfolk who shared their popping candies and hot sodas that they had prepared for the celebration.

Cowboy Frito and Juliet Juniper (one of toonvilles hottest couples) brought a boquet of my favorite treats in apparent memory of me. Dr Lollipop and his beau Beauty Bee were especially excited to witness my body, flayed and broken, as they had never seen one before. Fashionista Frida Frizzlemeister was dressed from head to toe in the most dazzling outfit she had, with a black and white photograph of my own head featured as the centerpiece to her famously glitzy bouquet.

gathered in thousands of seats surrounding my thick, red, plastic coffin, the show was finally on the road. despite being delayed a half hour (the felt arms of the pallbearer made it difficult to actually get the dang thing near my ready grave!), the mood was light, as everyone in attendance were best friends. scattered lines of conversation quickly concluded as Pastor Paisley cleared his throat to begin his eulogy- at least he tried! pranks were all the rage in toonville, and who else but Scoots McBuzz would spit a hot wad of greasegum right at him. Paisley, experienced from his many sunday school classes over the years, grabbed his toupee and ducked down-causing the gum to stick right onto my fisher price brand tomb.

a long pause filled the air, followed by bright laughter at such a farce. in fact, all of toonville decided to cover my final resting place in bits of chewed paper, bottlecaps, smile stickers (the lowest form of their complex currency) and all kinds of knick knacks while hollering with laughter. and what could cap off such a good time like a hearty meal? Chef Al LaRonge had prepared a veritable feast for the hungry attendees, who stuffed their mouths with gooey, cheesy pizza, hot pepper patties and classic peanut butter chocolate superbars.

as the sun set, Mayor Megamouth of toonville declared their first funeral a complete success and thanked everyone for being a part of such a touching event. "he knew every one of you, and would have loved to know he caused such a record turnout among the toontopians!" after cheery "hip, hip, hooray!" and a final goodbye towards my flesh, the now urine-soaked coffin was marched straight into the freshly built mausoleum, the only gravesite to be found in the brand new toonville boneyard.

given the limited use of the land, it was eventually folded into the soda treatment plant. over time, my final resting place became stained with the colors and smell of sarsaparilla, caramel, and beetroot. the foundation eventually buckled beneath the sagging heft of the pop-drenched wood that surrounded my now bleached bones on the fourth of july, the sounds of creaking and splintering masked underneath the no-expenses-spared fireworks show. shapes of cakes and pies filled the air as my remains were carried out to the stinking sea.

[revelboo]

Everything is alright- expanded cut

Starscream x reader

One more mile to get it together. Except, you’ve been telling yourself that for how many miles now? It’s been halfheartedly misting rain for the last several minutes, but you don’t bother to roll the windows up on your old sedan. Not when you desperately need the chilly feel of the wind sinking icy fingers into your hair and tearing at your ponytail to help numb the anger and stress just there under the surface.

But even with the speedometer pushing 65 on the wooded country road, there’s no outrunning yourself. Or stopping your mind from sifting through the fallout from your latest boyfriend. Letting the intrusive thoughts in. Like maybe he’d been right, and you hadn’t really made enough time for him. Even if you both worked crappy, full-time jobs that consumed more than their fair share of your time and energy.

If anything, it was as much his fault as yours, right? Hands going white knuckled on the wheel, you crank the rock and roll even higher to let the thump of the bass roll through your bones and send your thoughts flying. You’re out past the county line now, the road just an inky ribbon of asphalt snaking through the woods. Occasionally, the setting sun dazzles you through the gaps in the trees in piercing, painful flares of red and gold.

From the depths of your mind comes the thought that you could just keep driving. See where the road went until it ended somewhere on the coast. It was a lovely dream, but just that. You weren’t brave enough to just go. That’s why you still lived in the nowhere town you’d grown up in. Your foot settles a little more firmly on the gas pedal, slaloming around lazy curves as you try to shake off the mellow ache, because now you’re angry with him and yourself.

You could do it. Flip the proverbial bird to everything you know, especially your awful boss, and just nope off into the sunset without a plan. Probably end up living in the car if it didn’t break down before you even managed to cross the state line. It was funny in a decidedly unfunny way, because your own worst enemy? You. It’s always you.

Snorting at yourself, it takes a minute to register the new sound over the wail of an electric guitar pouring tinnily through your speakers. What is that? The fine hair at your nape prickles as it rolls over you, a thunderous scream that locks the breath in your lungs. Eyes darting up to your mirror there’s a moment of blank disbelief, because no. That’s not a jet right behind you, flying lower than a jet has any reason to as its huge wingspan sheers off branches in its wake.

There’s no time to argue with the impossible vision because the belly of the jet slams and scrapes along the roof of your car with an awful shriek, and panic lights you up. You haul at the wheel, foot slamming down on the brake and then you’re sliding on the wet road. Things get a bit funny after that. Trees right there and the noise of the impact. Your forehead bouncing off the wheel and then slamming back as the airbag deploys with enough force you’re stunned again.

Your world blurs into a confusing smear of impossibility when you lift your head and feel your heartbeat throbbing at your temple. For a moment, you can’t figure out the seatbelt, everything hurts, and your mouth tastes like old pennies.

In the distance, a rumble of thunder rolls as the buckle finally unclips. The door is partially dented in by the impact, so you crawl out the window, head pounding to match the thunder. But thunder doesn’t sound like that. This is a staccato thumping that makes no sense. Guns? Probably that jet exploding. Your awkward slide out of the car via the window isn’t dignified or graceful. Twisting to land on your hip instead of your face, you lift your head. Everything’s muddled and you definitely have a concussion. That’s the only way to explain whatever the hell it is you’re looking at. There are giant robots in the road and one of them has wings painted like the stupid, low flying jet that had tried to kill you. And they have guns. You don’t even know what to make of this particular hallucination playing out in front of you. Staggering up out of the ditch and onto the road, it feels like you’re on a ship, the ground pitching and rolling under your feet as your stare up at the nonsense. You definitely brained yourself good. Most likely, you’re still in the car bleeding out and this was your mind’s idea of a consolation prize. Except you’d never actually liked sci-fi or robots.

Turning unsteadily as your whole body screams in pain, you stare from the jet and its fiery red eyes to the other two imaginary head trauma robots. One’s yellow and the other is white with red and blue accents. And they’re not shooting the jet anymore. They’re just staring down at you in the same kind of dumb stupor that's weighing you down. Your legs get a bit cute on you and your knee thumps onto the road. Feeling the grit and loose gravel digging into you cuts through the hazy fog of pain and disbelief.

Because it’s real. And then the panic rears its head, screaming at you to run even as you freeze. You’d always kind of assumed you’d do well under pressure. That you’d at least do something. Kneeling there as the misty rain slowly chills your skin, you don’t move. You can’t. Not even when you see the jet lunge right at you.

****

It's almost serendipity when the human staggers up into the road between him and the two Autobots. Gaping up at them with no sense of self-preservation or fear. Staring at him in the optics like he was no threat to it. Brave, but so stupid.

Because his options are limited even though he’s not exactly outgunned. No doubt the Autobots have called in for backup. Even bleeding energon and one wing hanging on by sheer spite and a prayer, he could handle two of them. Several, though?

And calling in his own backup? Having to beg for help even from his own trine? Weak. He’d never live it down. Or survive it. Weakness didn’t last long among the Decepticon ranks.

Feeling the wound in his side pulling as he lunges, he’s only barely aware of Jazz’s cry. The human is softer than he expects, that soft flesh giving horribly against his servos as he catches it and lifts it out in front of him like the most ineffective shield ever. Aside from a wheezing sound halfway between a gasp and a moan, the human just hangs there in his grip, unresisting. Maybe broken.

All that matters is that Jazz and Bumblebee have frozen. Maybe it isn’t so ineffective. Because the Autobots are forbidden from harming organics. Especially humans. Baring his denta in a feral smile, he backs away from the two.

“Let the human go, Starscream,” Bumblebee says, voice as steady as the weapon still raised toward him in threat.

An empty threat. A laugh escapes him, his smile turning nasty. “No, I don’t think so.”

Whatever is inside humans is hot, sticky, and leaking unpleasantly against his servos. The sensation is almost enough to make him chuck the thing at the two idiots to buy himself some time. Small hands push at his servos as the thing in his grip shudders. It’s silent, though as it looks up at him with big, terrified eyes.

Spark thrumming, he keeps moving back. They were really going to let him go just because he’d nabbed a human with no survival instincts whatsoever. Who still was eerily quiet as they sluggishly leaked red fluid from a gash on their head. Turning on his heel, he pulls it into his chassis as he transforms, pain rippling through him. There’s a terrifying moment of very real fear that his wing won’t hold. That he and his hostage will crash back down, but his turbines roar and he’s gone.

It's no longer silent, he can hear its rasping gasps. Maybe transforming around it had finally broke through its shock. Something definitely had. He could feel its little hands scrabbling at his interior in a panic, the sensation causing his metal flesh to crawl all over. It was inside him. Touching everything. Leaking that sticky red stuff inside him. The only consolation at all was that it wasn’t screaming.

Yet.

“Keep your filthy little hands to yourself,” he snarls as it paws at the seam of his cockpit as if it wants to be jettisoned. Was nearly begging for it. As tempting as that thought was, the docile, little thing had potential. Namely as a way to keep the Autobots from firing at him.

Snatching its hands back, its wide eyes dart around his interior. So, it isn’t quite as addled as he’d thought. Surprising. “It’s talking. The giant, metal death robot is talking,” it mutters, voice soft and raspy with pain as it tucks its hands against its chest.

“Starscream.” The annoyance is immediate and the human flinches at his tone, hunching its shoulders. It doesn’t respond, though. Just makes that weird, gasping sound as it looks around for an escape.

Aside from a low, moaning when he transforms around them a second time, it’s silent as he keeps it trapped inside his canopy. One of its soft hands slaps against the glass to make him shudder, its breathing becoming louder and more frantic. There’s the fear he’d expected. By some miracle, he makes it inside the base and to his quarters without getting stopped. Though, Skywarp gave him a look as he limped past. A low growl and a flash of denta had been enough to discourage his trine brother from needling him for the moment.

Closing the door behind himself, the pain of his ruined wing crests and threatens to wash over him. Servos gingerly touching his side and wincing when they come away wet with energon, he picks up an empty energon cube and pops his canopy. With a startled cry, the human falls out into his palm, and he drops them into the cube. The walls are high enough that he doubts they can manage to get free. Placing it on a shelf, his optics narrow as it scrambles to the far side of its prison, eyes wide.

Huffing out a low vent, he turns and leaves the human to go find the medic.

****

You slide slowly down the smooth glass wall to land on your butt as your legs just give up. The apparently not hallucinatory, brain trauma induced, giant robot stuck you in a big, square aquarium and even though the top is open, you can’t get enough air. Or stop shaking as panic sank its teeth into your throat.

Reaching up, you gingerly touch your temple. There’s blood there, but sticky and not actively bleeding you think. And even if you’re not imagining all this, you probably, definitely, do have a concussion. You can’t motivate your shaking, noodle legs to stand, so you crane your neck to study your prison. The walls are much higher than you are tall and featureless. No way to get a good grip to climb out, even as you very briefly entertain and dismiss the idea of parkouring up the corner of the box to freedom, because that isn’t happening, and you know it.

Which leaves you all alone to wander the shores of melancholy regret in the silence of the empty room. There’ll be no seeing where any other roads go now. No second chances. You tunnel your fingers through your hair, pulling on it as you try to gather yourself. To think it out. Feeling miserable, you look around the big room. It's giant robot sized and surprisingly spartan. There’s a flat metal berth along one wall, a desk and chair, what might be storage drawers, but blessedly little else. No mementos of a life lived. No trinkets. Something about that bothers you, but you don’t dwell on it.

You’re not sure how long your big, evil robot, Starscream, is gone. Hours? You’re almost drowsing in your corner even as you shiver uncontrollably in the icy room. Apparently cold didn’t bother giant robots, but then, it’d been very warm when you’d been trapped inside its interior. Any other time you’d have been ecstatic about riding in a jet. Fear for your life had soured the experience.

You bang your head on the glass wall of your cage when the door opens, and your kidnapper returns. Those glowing red eyes slide your way before dismissing you. Shifting to drag your legs against yourself, you watch it move to an oversized chair and slump. Teeth chattering, a new concern surfaces. This thing knew you needed food and water, right?

“Almost brought down by two weak Autobots,” it mutters, dragging a hand down its face in a disturbingly human gesture. For an alien robot murder machine, its face is uncannily human. It reaches back to prod at one of its wings. It looked better than it had, you realize. “Nearly ripped my wing off.”

Was it talking to you? Unsure, you dart your tongue out to wet your lips. Somehow you hadn’t yet won yourself a Darwin Award even though you’d blundered into the middle of a fire fight between huge, angry robots while gawping like a hick tourist. Did you dare push your luck? “How dare they,” you say, voice a barely-there, raspy whisper.

It hears you, though. That big head turns to stare at you, and you wilt as its wings flit up a little higher and the silence stretches.

“Right?” Starscream demands suddenly, growling voice full of irritation. It sounds like a he, you decide. Though since it was whatever the hell it was, who knew. “I could have destroyed them then and there with one servo.”

It’s almost funny as the alien death machine actually puffs out his chest a bit when you nod in agreement, teeth chattering. And then you run with it, playing devil’s advocate, because staying on his good side? Definitely a good idea. “They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Of course not,” he sneers, rising to tip his head at you with almost predatory interest. Drifting away to a wall, he retrieves a huge blanket and drops it unceremoniously on you. The material is soft as silk, but some chemical smell clings faintly to it. You still cocoon yourself in it, face poking out to watch your evil robot return to his chair and his sprawl. And falls silent, staring at you in return.

The shivers slowly ease, but don’t go away altogether. That doesn’t stop you from drifting off, though. Your sleep is thankfully a dreamless void that sinks its claws in and drags you under. It’s almost pleasant up until something bounces off your head and the pain you’d left behind in sleep screams through you. Along with the realization that you’re being buried alive. Clawing your way free, you fall on your face, swearing.

And look up to find Starscream staring down at you, his lips twitching in cruel amusement at your expense. Your heart runs wild, rabbit-fast in fear. His red eyes shift behind you then back. Wary, you turn to look and find he’d buried you in a mountain of beef jerky, chips, soda, and- its food. He’s brought you food. That has to be a good sign, right? Why bother to feed you if he’s just going to squish you.

Sure, he could have not dropped it all on your head, but you aren’t about to tell him that. Just like you aren’t going to think too deeply about where the food came from either. It’s not like he can just waltz into a store and buy stuff. You’re snapped out of thoughts of sirens and explosions when you realize those fearsome eyes are scrutinizing you. Waiting for your reaction?

“Thank you?” Your voice is soft and uncertain, but the big, scary robot freezes all the same. Those wings on his back flip up then back down. Like he’s surprised that you’d thanked him. Just like the complete 360 he’d pulled when you’d agreed with him before. Like your captor isn’t too used to being listened to or appreciated. And he not only loves the attention, he might just crave it. Fawning over him is a small price to pay for your life. And that smug, preening smirk paired with those little wing flutters? For a kidnapping, killer robot, he’s kind of adorable. Not that you’re ever going to admit that out loud. You like living too much for that.

You freeze when he reaches into your cage before scooting back from that massive hand. Unwilling to give up your warm blanket, you drag it with you and suck in a sharp breath when he cages you in his hand and lifts you out. His grip isn’t as rib crushing as the last time he’d snatched you up and you cling to his fingers, heart racing as he places you on the desk.

****

Scrolling through reports, Starscream keeps an optic on his new- what, pet? Yes. A pet. Letting out a long-drawn vent, he works and tracks the human as it stands up still wrapped in the cleaning cloth he’d given it and dragging it along as they cautiously move around his desk. It only takes a low growl under his breath to discourage the human from getting near the edge. Those big eyes dart up to him in surprise before moving away from the drop.

Satisfied that it’s not going to launch itself to a stupid death, he resumes perusing reports. “Can you believe those idiots?” He grumbles to himself out of habit. “I told them that mine was unstable.”

He hears the human’s quiet steps as it moves closer to him, little face tipped up toward him. “They should have listened to you,” it says, the words surprising him.

Because they were true. Were humans usually this astute or had he just picked a particularly smart one? His wings adjust slightly as he turns his attention to the tiny creature. “They never listen to me.” Reaching out he ghosts the tip of a servo over their head, surprised by how soft their hair is. It goes still under his touch, head lowering as he slides that finger down its back.

He'd had a petro rabbit once, the tiny, fragile thing so trusting. It would eat from his hand and come willingly to him. Petro rabbits weren’t exactly clever, though. Couldn’t distinguish him from Skywarp. And even though Skywarp had claimed it had been an accident, Starscream had never really let it go. Or believed him. Suddenly unsettled, he gently strokes over the human’s head again. Soothing himself and his new pet.

Because this time would be different. He freezes as it leans into his palm, slowly relaxing. Its skin is colder than he remembered, and he frowns as he carefully curls his servos around it. And it leans eagerly into his warmth with a little noise of pleasure. His optics flit to the empty energon cube as it relaxes further against him, its own big eyes peering up at him trustingly. He'd never actually been this close to a human, he realizes. Certainly never touched one.

Venting softly, he uses his free hand to pull his datapad closer so he can finish going through the reports. Stiffening when the human lays its head on his servo, little hands clinging as it soaks up his warmth.