#Going through the three households I have and checking in on everyone
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Straud Chapter.23 [Mid Summer 1453]
Karina: Oh my love, this room is adorable.
Myron: I'm glad you love it, my sweet. kiss Now are you sure we will have twins?
Karina: I visited Vlad's third wife, Melisande. She used her gifts to check.
Myron: Double the blessing for this house. I will be making sure your life is filled with riches.
Karina: Always so sweet to me. Oh, I do feel bad for Vasyl. Living with the two of us and soon two little ones. He will probably go mad.
Myron: He will be fine, Karina, don't worry so much. You just concentrate on your well-being and feeling the joys of being pampered.
Myron: Care to hunt with me, my love?
Karina: I always enjoy a good hunt with you
#sims 4#sims 4 story#sims 4 screenshots#straud generations#straud 1450s#sims 4 vampires#Going through the three households I have and checking in on everyone#soon four actually cause of Mikel and Adrian omgah!#I did this to myself T^T
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The Psychology of Love and Loathing
Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Enemies to lovers!
Word count: 7,584
Warnings: no use of y/n, reader goes by 'bunny', discussion of a case (nothing too far from usual Criminal Minds gore), reader has three PhD's (bet you didn't know that), briefly mentions readers mother committing su!cide, mentions of toxic parents, alcohol consumption, jealous! Reader, jealous! Reid, pet names (good girl, silly girl, baby, sweetheart, sweet thing), degradation, oral f! Receiving, like one line of oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it before you tap it), no mention of reader being on birth control, anal play, overstimulation, after care. If i missed anything let me know!
Author’s note: i’m so sorry im ovulating. This is porn w a shit ton of plot. We’re talkin WORLD BUILDING
MDNI BELOW THE CUT
You blink at the papers in front of you, checking once, twice, double checking three times to make sure what you're seeing is correct.
You were on a case in Texas, called in by local police after four bodies, two wealthy couples, were found shot execution-style and posed on different park benches throughout Amarillo. While at first, it seemed as though it was your average serial killer, the autopsy report showed that the gunshot wound was done post-mortem- all four victims were murdered by being forced to drink household bleach.
You looked down at the papers one more time, noticing that one man, Adam Gilman, cleaned houses of the wealthy, and he purchased a lot of bleach. Way more than needed to clean a few bathrooms.
You quickly dial Garcia, and she answers within the first ring.
"Ask and you shall receive."
"Garcia, what can you find out about Adam Gilman?"
You hear typing from the other end of the line before spewing information, "35-year-old white male, he grew up super rich until his dad pulled his college funding his senior year when his sister went to school to be a doctor. He started paying for her," She suddenly sucked in a breath, "It looks like he had to drop out. He was at Harvard Law. Spiraled downhill from there, sending you the files and address now."
"Thanks, Garcia!"
You rush into the room where the rest of the team is and run up to Hotch.
"Look at this! He fits the profile to a t!"
Hotch looks down at his tablet, and you feel eyes glance over to you, about to speak, but Spencer Reid bursts through the doors.
"Guys our unsub is Adam Gilman! He lives five minutes from here, and his job is on the way."
Hotch nods at you, acknowledging that you have the same information but Reid said it louder, "Let's go."
Since you joined the Bureau last year, Spencer Reid has been competing with you. Whereas he was thirty-three with three PhDs, you were twenty-five with the same amount. Of course, he got his when he was much younger, but he still seemed to overcompensate.
He was intimidated by you.
This wasn't the first time a situation like this had happened. It's almost like he had a radar for when you made a big break, and he wanted to steal the spotlight.
And not to mention he hates you for some reason.
Ever since your first week in the BAU, Dr. Reid has acted indifferent to you. You understand that change can be uncomfortable, but you have done nothing to deserve this cold shoulder.
On your first day, you strutted into the office dressed in a pair of black slacks, a black, v-neck blouse, and some hot pink pumps; being honest, you looked like you owned the place.
When Aaron introduced you to the team, you shook everyone's hand except Reid's.
"The number of pathogens passed through a handshake is staggering," he stated mater-of-factly while staring at your hand, "it's actually safer to kiss."
You laugh and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, "Although I appreciate the concern, a handshake is actually a sign of peaceful intentions. Soldiers would cover their swords on their left side and shake their right hand to show they mean no harm," you shrug, "but I understand the mysophobia."
He nodded at you, a glare suddenly hardening his features, "interesting."
He has refused to hold conversation with you, maintain eye contact with you, or be in the same room with you for an extended amount of time ever since.
He hates it the most when you're right.
After arresting Adam, the team desperately needed to interrogate him. He was denying all claims despite all the evidence against him. In fact, all he has said has been denials. Besides that, he didn't speak. He hadn't asked for a lawyer, hadn't shown any recognition to the couples, and hadn't said anything besides I've never seen those people before.
"We need to make him uncomfortable," Morgan says, "he's running this whole show. We gotta flip the tide."
Emily looks up from her Chinese takeout, laughing, "Let's throw Bun and Reid in there."
Your eyes widen, and you are suddenly incredibly red. Your face is on fire, and you start looking around panicked.
The team started referring to you as 'Bun' over the summer when you all went to a bar together. You accidentally had one too many drinks, and Derek said you were bouncing up and down the whole time.
"She's like a Bunny."
"Don't call me a Bunny!" You slur, "I'm mean. And vicious."
Penelope laughs at you, throwing an arm around your shoulder, "Alright, Bun. Let's go dance!"
Ever since that night, the nickname 'bun' stuck.
Although Emily suggested you and Reid distracting Adam as a joke, Rossi's lips pull into a smile, "That just might work."
Emily sets her food down, suddenly aware that she presented the first good idea so far, "we could dress them up some, make them look like a wealthy couple, and have them ask Adam some questions. It might make him mad enough to break."
Aaron looks at you and you gulp subtly, then he looks to Reid, "It's up to you."
You look at your feet, frowning, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get this guy in jail."
Reid simply nods.
"Okay," Aaron says, "we'll go get the stuff."
You and Spencer remain in the small room while the others rush out to get the things you require for your transformation.
"Hi." Your voice comes out quiet.
"Hello." He responds blandly.
You suddenly realize this is the first time you and Reid have been in a room alone together, so you take the opportunity.
"What have I done to you?"
Reid's eyebrows shoot up at the confrontation "Huh?"
You roll your eyes, "ever since my first day you've avoided me. What did I do?"
He scoffs, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't." You sigh and run a hand through your hair, "I'm the only person on the team you practically refuse to talk to."
"I'm talking to you right now," he says as if that's a counterargument, "I talk to you all the time."
"Yeah, when you're forced to!" You say exasperatedly, "You know everyone on the team's birthdays, all except mine. You know their family situation because you've asked."
He shrugs, "I know plenty about you."
"How old am I?"
He looks into your eyes calmly, "You're twenty-eight."
"I'm twenty-five."
Emily suddenly bursts into the room, "There isn't anything for you guys in lost and found. You have to go on a shopping trip. Strauss said a 300 dollar limit."
You nod, "I assume that's just for clothes?"
"Yes," She answers, "Reid is going to wear Rossi's watch and a wedding band JJ's going to pick up. Both of you will wear a ring." She then looks to you, "We have a lot of jewelry for you to pick through."
You nod, standing and Reid rises next to you.
Emily tosses you some keys, "be back in an hour."
***
The ride to the mall was quiet. You didn't bother talking to Spencer as you drove, and he didn't bother speaking to you.
He also kept turning down the radio when you tried to turn it up. It was painfully awkward.
Once at the mall, you and Reid split up incredibly fast.
He ran to some men's warehouse, and you rushed to the women's section of a department store.
You quickly pick up a pair of black pinstriped slacks that hug your curves and a tight, white blouse. You finally grab a black, pinstriped blazer, and you head to check out.
On your way, though, a pair of stunning, emerald heels grabs your attention.
You walk closer to study them, and god do they look lavish.
If you weren't here for work, you would grab them in a heartbeat, but you were, and you had already met your price cap.
"Buy them."
You hear Spencer's voice from behind you, and you jump, grabbing your chest in fright.
"What?"
"Get them," he shrugs, "it's obvious you want to."
You laugh shyly, and he stuffs his hands into his jean pockets, his bag of clothes hanging around his wrist.
"I've already met my limit."
"Okay?"
You frown, studying him. He looks calm and relaxed. You tilt your head slightly, and he matches your movement.
No, that can't be right.
You cross your arms in a silent stare down, and he does, too.
"You're mimicking me."
He scoffs, "God, Bun, not everything I do is to spite you!"
Your eyes widen and you suddenly point at him, "You!"
"What?"
"You just called me Bun!"
His eyes barely widen, but he catches himself, staring straight ahead.
His foot stops tapping, "you're hearing things."
"And that's your tell!" You point at his foot, "You just mimicked me, called me 'Bun', and then lied about it!"
He rolls his eyes, "what size are you?"
"You're avoiding the question!"
"You didn't ask a question." He gestures to the heels, "What size?"
"Why?"
"Answer the question, Bunny."
His tone is stern, and you freeze under his stare.
"Nine."
He nods and grabs a box in that size.
"No!" You protest, "Don't!"
"I still had a hundred bucks left over, it's on the company's card."
You blink twice, confused as to why he's being so nice to you.
"Okay. I need to pay and I'm done."
He nods to you, and you both check out. He hands you the heels and you let out a quiet thanks while headed to the car.
***
When you got back to the station, the turnaround was dizzying.
You were shoved into a room to change, as was Reid.
After you changed, JJ came in and whistled.
"Sheesh, Bun, you look good!"
You laugh and straighten out your jacket, slipping on the heels Spencer bought you today.
"Are those new?"
You nod, "yeah, Spencer said he had some left in his budget."
She shook her head, "Reid must've bought those with his own money."
Your eyes widen, and she laughs, "C'mon, Bun. You need to look at jewelry."
You picked out a pair of dainty, diamond earrings, a matching necklace, and several expensive bracelets that had to be physically screwed onto your wrists.
Once standing in front of Hotch, Emily gave you the wedding bands JJ had picked up.
Yours was a gorgeous gold band with an emerald-cut diamond on top. It was simple, but, God, was it stunning.
You slipped it onto your finger and Reid slipped the simple golden band over his, his hands looking all that much better with the ring on it. It makes your mouth water just thinking about his fingers.
You quickly shake your head. No. You hate Spencer Reid. Nothing will change that.
Hotch gives you and Reid strict instructions on how to talk to Adam, and then he's sending you in.
"Sell it," Aaron says, "this might be our only shot."
You give him a curt nod, linking your arm with Reid and smiling as you walk into the interrogation room.
Spencer looks down at you with a look of passion you've never seen before. One that you aren't convinced could be fake.
As soon as you looked at Adam, you could tell there was something off. He was picking at the skin around his nails and chewing on the skin of his lips where they looked raw and painful.
As you sat down in front of him, Spencer was the first to speak.
"Who is this guy again, babe?"
You held back the shock in your face at the pet name as he put a hand on your thigh. You made a point to twist the wedding ring on your finger before opening the files in front of you.
"Adam?" You look up at the man in front of you, "are you Adam?" He nods, and you hum, "Who are you, exactly?"
Reid smiles and looks to you, "Play nice." He slides the files over to him, "Harvard law, that's impressive. Did you apply or did your father buy your way in?"
Adam's eyes narrowed, "I applied and got accepted. I was a prodigy."
You smile subtly, knowing you and Reid have already gotten him to show more of himself than he had to anyone else.
You look at your fake husband and laugh, "I don't think you can decide that you're a prodigy." You look Adam up and down, "my husband, here," you place your hand on Spencer's shoulder, looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars, "he is a prodigy. How old were you when you got your first PhD?"
"Seventeen," he laughed humbly, looking at you, "you flatter me."
You smile softly as Reid squeezes your thigh, something Adam could not see and, therefore, was unnecessary. You look at Spencer, but he refuses to meet your eyes.
You turn back to Adam, pulling out the photos of the four bodies and showing them to him, "have you met these people before?"
He shakes his head, "I've never seen those people before."
"Really?" You ask calmly, "You've never, ever, seen Andrea Haskins?"
Adam shakes his head.
"Never, not once, seen her husband, Kent Haskins, either?"
He shakes his head again.
Reid sits up straighter, linking his hands together on the table in front of him, "you received a pretty generous amount of money from him every month since... August?"
You mentally thank Garcia for that information, and mentally thank Reid for remembering it.
Adam sits up straight, too, but falling shorter than Reid, "I clean their house for them, don't mean I've ever met 'em."
You hum, "I wouldn't let a stranger into our home, would you?"
Reid shakes his head, and Adam gets visibly upset at your interactions. His hands clench to the table ledge, knees bouncing, eyes narrowed.
"Say, Adam," you perk up, "how much bleach do you use per house you clean, about?"
Adam's eyes trained on me, "you're a smart girl," he then looked to Reid, "with an even smarter husband." He spits the words as if they are poison on his tongue, "You do the math."
You stand, smiling softly, "So, not 10 gallons per week?"
Adam shrugs, "If that's your calculation."
You walk closer to the man, sitting on the table next to him and leaning down to him, "And I assume you also have never met the Coleman's?"
He shakes his head.
"Never met anyone in the Coleman family?"
"No. God, you people suck at your job."
"That's actually interesting considering we have video footage of your picking up Lacey Coleman from school last Monday. A family doesn't let a stranger house cleaner pick up their child from school."
Adam's eyes widen, and you know you have him cornered.
"How long had your sister been friends with the Colemans?" Reid interjects.
"Don't you dare talk about her."
"Why not?" Reid asks simply, "Does she bother you?"
"I was going to be a Lawyer, I was going to be successful and make my dad proud of me. Until she ruined it all with her perfect schooling and perfect husband," Adam spits.
"Halley is a pretty successful neurosurgeon, huh? She gets all of daddy's special attention, doesn't she?" You say.
"Get your wife on a leash," Adam says to Reid.
"All you wanted was to feel loved, to hear your dad say he's proud of you," you keep talking, "and you were going to kill him because he wouldn't say it."
"Shut the hell up, bitch!"
"You were getting ready to kill your mom and dad because, hey, why not go straight to the source? Why not kill who made you like this?"
"What if your family pulled your funds for a sibling, huh?" He yells to you and Reid, "How would you feel?"
The room goes silent and Reid allows you to keep talking, keep getting on his nerves.
"His daddy left him when his mom got sick, and my mommy killed herself when I was seven. We worked for our degrees, and we worked even harder for the scholarships that paid for our three PhDs." You hiss, "I would've worked harder to get what I want instead of just expecting it."
"You're a bitch," Adam spit in my face.
"I could be worse. I could take away a little girl's family. I could kill four innocent people out of my frustration and failure."
Reid finally stepped in, grabbing your hand softly and pulling you back to your side of the table.
"I didn't kill those people."
"That's not what your body is telling us, Adam." Reid states simply, "You are hurt and still are hurting, I understand that. But now so is Lacey. That's on you."
Adam's lip quivers, "I didn't hurt Lacey! Lacey was at her friend's house!"
Reid rises, grabs your hand gently, and walks to the door, and you follow.
"Hey!" Adam screams, "where are you going? Get back here!"
As soon as the door shuts behind you, you let go of Reid's hand. He turns to you and watches your expression shift.
"Good work, Bun."
You nod, and he looks like he's about to say something else, mouth opening, but then Hotchner walks in.
"Great work.”
You smile at Aaron, and Reid stares at you with something dark behind his eyes. He looks nervous, and hungry, and concerned, and certain.
"We'll be heading back in 30. Wrap up. Great job, Doctors."
***
On the plane, you and Reid are still in your "Rich Couple" personas, not having enough time to change out.
You sit near the back of the plane, headphones in, and reading Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience by William Blake.
"Little Lamb who made thee, Dost though know who made thee?"
You hear the words of "The Lamb" spoken, causing you to take out your headphones and look to the source: Spencer Reid.
He sits across from you as you ask, "You read Blake?"
"Blake to Poe to Plath, I don't mind."
You narrow your eyes at him, "what do you want?"
"Really?" He asks, "We can't just have a nice moment?"
You raise your eyebrows at him, "Not you and me. We don't have nice moments."
His facial features soften, and he sighs, "I'm sorry for acting so harsh toward you. You didn't deserve that."
You're shocked by his statement, "Pardon me?"
He runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "I was scared, Bun. I was the smart one. I convinced myself that was all I could be," his breath hitches and his eyes connect with mine, "I thought if there was someone smarter, more sociable, and nicer than me, they wouldn't need me anymore."
"Spence..." you start, and you realize it's the first time you've called him his nickname.
He notices it, too, eyes shifting from one of concern to one of understanding, "You're incredibly smart. You're kind, and you're fun to be around. I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that."
You nodded, "thank you."
He nods and goes to stand.
"Wait." You quickly speak up and he freezes, "What's... um..." you stutter, "what's your favorite Poe?"
Reid smiles, sitting back down, "Annabel Lee."
You smile, "Gold-Bug."
He laughs, "Really?"
And you nod.
****
"Let's go get drinks!" Garcia announces as you and the team wrap up your paperwork, and you laugh.
"I don't think so," you smile, "not tonight."
"C'mon, Bun," Garcia whines "It'll be fun!"
Reid suddenly looked at you, eyes darker, eyes that held you tight in a grip, "Yeah, c'mon, Bun." He says the name with a sensuality you had never heard before. It sent a shiver down your spine, "it'll be fun."
You look at him, taking in a shaky breath, "I.. uh, don't have a ride."
"I'll drive you," Reid says simply, and the rest of the team just stares at the interaction.
Things have changed since the interrogation room, you know that, but did you want to be alone with him already?
You look at him, his messy hair, his stubble, and chocolate brown eyes, and your pussy clenches around nothing.
You find yourself nodding, mouth too dry to speak.
"Good," he smiles, "follow me."
Your team watches with uncertainty as you walk off with Spencer, and it's almost like they've seen the change, too.
No, they're profilers. They know Reid had you wrapped around his finger while reciting Blake.
They also knew Spencer had been pining after you since you wore those hot pink heels on the first day of work. But they didn't need to tell you that.
Reid guides you to the elevator, and you comply silently. Once the door closes and it's just you two, you turn to Spencer.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He responds simply.
You turn to face him, "why are you being so nice to me?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Bun."
You roll your eyes, "yeah right."
The elevator doors open, and he walks you to his car, opening the door for you.
"Thank you," you smile cautiously, and he nods.
He sits down in the driver's seat and pulls out of his parking spot. One of his hands rests on the wheel, the other placed on the gearshift. His eyes focus on the road, but they occasionally slide over to you. The silence- although comfortable- practically kills you.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
He glances over at you, and he smirks, "I want to."
You look at him, "why?"
He shrugs, "spent too long not doing it."
You nod and glance out the window, just as Spencer puts the car in park.
As you step out of the car, you hear Derek and Emily from behind you, making a show of letting you know they are also here.
You walked over to Morgan and hugged him.
"Hey, Bunny," he smiles and kisses your forehead, "first rounds on me tonight, sweetheart."
You laugh, "thank god! Need a handsome man to buy me some drinks!"
Reid scoffs from behind you, but you shrug it off, assuming it was about something Emily had said.
It wasn't.
As you walk into the bar with Derek's arm around your shoulder, you quickly make your way to the table with Garcia and Rossi.
"What are you drinking?" You ask Garcia, gesturing to her hot pink drink in front of her, garnished with cotton candy, strawberries on sticks, and a big, twisty straw.
Gracia's eyes widen, "oh my gosh! You've never been here before??" You shake your head, and she squeals with excitement, "Okay, so, it's called the Cotton Candy Chameleon. It's basically strawberry vodka and coconut rum with strawberry soda! Look!" She picks up the cotton candy and places it into the liquid, watching as it rapidly dissolves, "did you see that?!"
"That's why it's called a Chameleon," Derek laughs, arm still around you, "want me to get you one?"
You nod happily, "and a shot of Titos? I'll pay you back!"
Morgan winks at you, "It's on me, Bun."
As he walks toward the bar, you and Garcia continue to chat about anything and everything, her childhood cat, where you grew up, and how Garcia got put on the team.
"You were so good at being bad," you laugh, swirling your third Cotton Candy Chameleon that Morgan brought over to you, "that the FBI gave you a job instead of jail time?"
She nodded, giggling, "Pretty much. Are you going to take that shot?" She points to the round Rossi had bought for the table.
You laugh, quickly picking it up and downing it, "god!"
"Woah!" Morgan laughs, hands catching your hips to keep you steady, "careful, Bunny."
You feel eyes glaring into you, and you trace them to Reid sitting at the bar. He has his elbow on the bar, leaning into his hand as he watches you with a look of unhappiness.
You roll your eyes, finishing the final chug of your drink, and placing a hand on Morgan's chest.
"You're warm," you say with a goofy smile, and Derek laughs.
"Oh, really, sweetheart?"
You nod, leaning further into him as his hands rest on your hips.
You make eye contact with him before you smirk and push away, "I'm going to get another drink."
"Hey, Bun!" You turn around to Rossi, his empty glass raised to you, "Get me another old fashioned."
You nod, smiling at the older man, and waltzing to the bar, right next to Reid.
"You having fun, Bunny?" He asks, voice low.
"Yes, sir." You smile, waiting for the bartender to walk over.
He sucks in a breath at the title, "You sure are touchy with Morgan," he grits out, staring at you, not quite your eyes, but something a little bit lower.
You scoff, "What's it to you?"
"Nothing." He spits, eyes connecting with yours, pupils taking over the brown of his eyes.
The bartender finally comes up to you, a cute girl in a black, low-cut tank top and some black, short shorts. She has short blonde hair, barely reaching her shoulders and it's curled up and pinned back so her hair is framing her face.
She was gorgeous, actually.
"What can I do for ya?" She asks, shaking a drink before breaking the seal and pouring it into a glass.
You tell her your order, and that it's on David Rossi's tab, and she nods.
Then she turns to Spencer, "What about you handsome?" She says it sultry like she's trying to seduce him, "Need another? I'd be happy to get you somethin' else."
Your eyes narrow on her, a deep, red-hot feeling forming in your gut. She doesn't see your stare though, completely focused on Spencer, leaning over the counter so her cleavage is on full display, biting her lip and twirling her hair.
You decided then and there that you hated her.
Reid tells her that he's okay, water if she insists, and when she comes back with his water, she hands him a napkin with ink scribbled on it, "I get off in 45 if you're interested."
"He's not."
The words come out of your lips faster than you could think, your brain taking longer to catch up with your mouth.
"Pardon?" She asks you, calm and calculating, "Didn't know you could decide that for him."
You laugh cockily, "Oh?" You act fast pulling yourself into Reid's lap before he can protest, but his hands wrap around you, trapping you where you sat, "I think I can."
Reid looked at the bartender, then his eyes trailed back to you, "Sorry, Brooklyn, I'm spoken for," his eyes darkened, a sly smile rising on his lips.
The bartender walks away to work on your drinks, and you turn all the way to face Reid.
"What are you doing, Bun?" He asks, voice low. You shift your hips and he hums, grabbing your waist to stop the movement, "Stop that. Talk to me."
You whimper, leaning into his chest, "You were really going to choose some bottle blonde over me?" Your words come out harsh, but it's also the first time you've said what's truly on your mind in front of Reid.
His eyes land back on Brooklyn, and he smirks, "She's pretty, I'll give her that," he looks down at you, right as the bartender places the drinks in front of you, "But you? You're on a whole different level, Bun."
You blush and shake your head, just as Brooklyn walks back over to hand you your drinks.
As she sets them down she says, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two were a thing."
You quickly shake your head, "Don't worry about it," you smile, "neither did he."
"In my defense," Spencer laughs, his lips close to your ear, "I didn't know you were an option. If I had, there wouldn't have been a competition."
You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck, "yeah, right. You've hated me since I joined the BAU."
His eyes widened, "Hated you?"
You nod softly, a little confused by the question.
"Hated isn't the word I would use," He laughed.
"What is?" You ask quietly.
He leans his head side to side, as if pondering the best way to answer, "obsessed? Intimidated?" He looked at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, "Lusted?"
Your eyes widened, "what?"
He shrugs, a hand falling to your thigh, thumb drawing circles, "The way you are entrances me. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you exist." He leans his head down so his eyes meet yours, "I knew I couldn't do anything about that, so I stayed away. I guess it came off as hatred."
The hand that wasn't on your leg reached up to pluck the cotton candy off of your drink, opening his mouth and letting the sugar melt on his tongue.
"Mmm," he hummed, eyes still locked with yours, "so sweet, Bun."
Your jaw dropped slightly, thighs clenching, and he grips your flesh, "Nuh, uh. What's wrong?" He chuckles as you whine against him, "Use your words."
You sit up, straightening and sliding off of his lap, "You're a sick freak, Spencer Reid."
He licked his lips, eyes trailing down your body, "I'll bring Rossi his drink, wait by the door."
You cross your arms over your chest, but your heart is pounding so loudly you can hear it in your ears, "what makes you think I listen to you?"
"Oh, Bunny," his finger lifts your chin, "I'm a profiler. Absolutely everything tells me that you'll listen to me."
You roll your eyes and scoff, "And if they ask where we're going?"
A devilish smirk flashes across his lips, and he leans toward your ear, and you can feel his breath on your skin, "you already told them you're tired," he pauses, "I'm going to fuck you to sleep, Doctor."
You suck in a shuddering breath, eyes glazing over as he chuckles, pulling away from you.
You take a step back, mumbling, "Hurry back."
He smiles widely, pupils practically taking over his chocolate eyes, "good girl."
You suck in a breath as he turns on his heel, walking over to the team as you wait by the door. Penelope frowns at you, waving, and Emily blows you a kiss.
Rossi looks at you calmly, and Derek raises a smooth eyebrow with a smirk.
Spencer walks back to you, grabbing your arm as you walk to the car.
Once you get back to his black Dodge Challenger, he presses you against the door, “How drunk are you right now?”
���From one to ten?” You ask, voice quiet, Reid looking at you like you’re a meal.
He nods, hands gripping your hips, “Goddamn it, Bun,” he hisses, “Yes, one to ten.”
“Four,” you answer, and his lips slam into yours in a frenzy.
It’s all tongue and teeth like he couldn’t wait a single second longer to taste you. Like it would kill him.
Your chest arches into his, hands going to his shoulders, holding on for life in the bruising kiss.
He pulls away, his eyes nearly black, eyes filled with an undeniable hunger, and it makes you shiver.
A smirk comes over his face as he steps away from you, opening your door, “get in.”
You don’t have to be told twice, stepping into the car, carefully so you don’t fall in the emerald heels he bought you.
With his own money.
“Spencer?”
He turns on the car and pulls out of the parking spot, “Yeah?”
You look at him, studying how you are both still dressed like a posh-rich couple, “You bought me these heels.”
He nods, chuckling and placing his hand on your thigh, “Excellent observation.”
You shudder at the contact, “with your own money.”
He smirks, “Who told you that?”
“JJ?”
“Ah,” he laughs, “Yeah, green’s your color.”
You raise an eyebrow, “How did you decide that?”
“A few weeks ago you wore this emerald green sweater,” he says, “It looked so goddamn good on you.”
You recall the memory, smiling softly, “Is that why you were avoiding me? You thought I looked pretty?”
His voice gets stern, face serious when he looks over at you, “Stop talking, Bun.”
A belly laugh escapes your mouth, head thrown back as you cackle, “I thought I pissed you off somehow!”
He gives your thigh a sharp squeeze, “I don’t think I’ve ever been genuinely angry with you.”
You sit dumbfounded, a quiet oh slipping past your closed lips.
He looks at you and parks the car, “I’ve been upset, frustrated, and God have I been irritated with you,” he turns to look at you, pulling his hand away from your leg, “But I have never been angry with you.”
He unbuckles quickly as you stare at him in surprise, and he gets out of the car, rushing around to open your door, “hurry up.”
You stumble out of the car, and he puts a hand on the small of your back, ushering you into his apartment.
You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the chaotic charm of Spencer Reid’s place. As soon as you notice the books piled up everywhere, he spins you around, pressing your back against the door and capturing your lips in another kiss. This kiss is slower and more controlled, with his hands sliding up your sides to your back, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck. You ball his shirt into your hands, pulling him impossibly closer.
“God, Bun, your fucking intoxicating,” he sighs against your lips, hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your bare hips, and you sigh at the contact.
He smirks, trailing wet kisses down your neck, gently grazing his teeth over your pulse point, and you moan, “there she is,” he mumbles, “been wanting to hear you make those pretty little sounds for a while.”
You whimper, “Shut up.”
He laughs, tugging you away from the door, and guiding you into his bedroom.
You shed off your suit jacket, and he rips your shirt over your head before pushing you down on his mattress. You gasp as you fall, Spencer's hands quickly move to your slacks, unbuttoning them and looking up at you with eyes so fiery you feel your whole body set aflame.
“Yes,” you say, noticing the silent question Spencer is asking you, “please, yes.”
He smirks, kissing the skin just above the waistline of your pants before tugging them down, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off.
He throws the items into the corner of his room, sitting up and looking at you: dressed in nothing but a black bra and matching panties, his eyes darken. He slides his hands down your body, and he practically growls when he feels your sopping wet cunt.
“God dammit, you’re so wet Bunny,” he says, his finger sliding over the soaked fabric of your panties, “such a silly girl, thinking I could want anyone but you.”
You whimper at the comment, and he leans down to kiss your upper thigh, slowly spreading your legs apart with the palms of his hands. Your legs widen as he settles in, kissing slowly up and around them, licking, sucking, and biting until you’re littered with heart-shaped marks.
“Gonna show you how much I wanted you,” he hisses, his hot breath fanning over your covered pussy, “gotta let you know how dumb you are for thinking I was anyone’s but yours.”
You whimper shamelessly at the comment, your legs trying to close, desperate for any kind of friction.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you, Bunny?” he laughs, looking up at you from between your thighs, “You like it when I tell you just how stupid you are? How fuckin’ useless that little brain of yours is?”
You nod rapidly, and Spencer licks a thick stripe over your clothed core. You let out a loud gasp, your head lolling to the side at the much-appreciated attention. He pushes your underwear to the side, diving into your pussy like a man starved. Spencer kitten licks your clit before pulling it into his mouth and sucking harshly, and your back arches from the bed.
“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, hands shooting into his hair, “so fuckin good, feels so good.”
“Mmm, there you go, baby,” he says, his index finger circling your entrance, “let me know how good I’m doing,” and his finger slowly pushes into you as his mouth reconnects to your hot skin.
Spencer Reid was talented with his tongue, but, god, his fingers were a whole other story.
He curled his finger toward him, finding that sweet, gummy spot inside you almost immediately, abusing it before inserting another and scissoring his fingers.
“You’re so tight,” he mumbles against your cunt, and a loud moan slips from your lips, your hands tangling into his hair as you desperately try to grind against his tongue, but he puts a hand over your stomach, holding you down.
He continues his torment, fingers working you open and his tongue moving rapidly through your folds. His fingers drag down your front wall slowly, and you can’t help his name slipping off of your tongue.
He smirks, looking up at you, “Atta girl, Bunny. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”
You moan loudly as he continues his torment. Your legs start to shake, his tongue swirling circles around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and one of your hands grabs your breast to ground you. Your breathing gets ragged, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming.
“You gonna cum for me, Bunny?” He asks, voice low, “Gonna cum all over my fingers?”
You nod, and he tsk’s.
“Without asking?” He says, a smirk on his perfect lips, slowing his fingers down and moving to kiss the insides of your thighs, “Not even going to ask after I’ve worked so hard for you?”
You throw your head back with a groan, “Please, Spencer!”
“Please what?”
You consider slapping him, telling him to stop treating you like some desperate slut, but in your current state? You might as well be.
“Please let me cum! I’ve been so good for you, Spence, I’ll be so good!”
“Yeah? You going to be my good girl?” he asks, eyes locking with yours, eyebrows raised, as he speeds up his fingers inside of your spasming pussy, “You promise?”
“Promise! Please, Spence, let me cum for you!”
He pauses for a second like he’s thinking, the smirk on his face growing, “cum for me, Bunny,” and he watches your face, jaw dropped as you orgasm around his fingers, your slick coating his palm and dripping onto the sheets below you as he works you through your bliss.
Once you come down, though, his fingers don't stop moving, his thumb moving to rub tight circles on your pulsing clit, “You’ve got another one in you,” he says as you bite your lip and your eyes water slightly, “C’mon, baby, you can give me another, right?”
You nod your head, your lip tugged between your teeth, your legs still shaking. He doesn’t give you time to breathe, just continues to suck and lick on your clit like it’s what he was made for, and, before you know it, your eyes clench shut as you rapidly approach another orgasm.
Little whimpers leave your lips, and Spencer chuckles slightly, “My poor girl, so desperate for me. I can tell you’re getting close again, huh?”
“Yes, sir,” you whisper, and he speeds up his pace, your jaw dropping into a silent ‘o’.
He kisses your stomach, holding your shaking legs with his free hand, “Give it to me, Bun.”
And you release with reckless ambition, thighs flung open and a hand gripping the sheets for your life as a string of moans leaves your lips. Spencer removes his fingers and moves down to lick up your come, and you have no choice but to whimper. He smirks and pulls away from your cunt, placing his lips hot on your own, and you taste yourself.
“You’re so sweet, Bunny. Sweeter than candy,” he sighs, hands sliding down your chest.
You whimper, forcing your hands into his hair in another soul-crushing kiss, and he chuckles into it.
“Desperate for something?”
And you nod, one hand trailing down the front of his body, grabbing his dick covered by his pants and he groans.
“You want this cock, Baby?” He lifts off of you, sitting with his knees on either side of your body while he quickly undoes the top two buttons of his shirt before deeming it useless and pulling it over his head while your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling off his belt and tugging his pants and boxers down enough to free his aching cock.
You moan at the sight, immediately leaning forward to kiss his tip, before he pushes you back onto the bed.
“Another time, Bun,” he grumbles, “need to feel you around me.”
You moan, nodding and lining him up with your quivering pussy, and he pushes forward just slightly, enough for his tip to pop inside of you, and the groan that leaves his lips is pornographic.
“She’s so fuckin’ tight, baby, can feel her squeezing me.”
You whimper, “please! More!”
He chuckles darkly at your request, “yeah? You need something?”
You roll your hips forward, pushing him in a little further before he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly.
“Nuh uh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.”
He emphasizes his words by pulling out slightly, and pushing back in, fucking you with just his tip, and a desperate gasp leaves your lips.
“Look at you,” he groans, continuing his torturous motions, “so desperate for my cock. Such a nasty little thing.”
And the thrusts harshly, abruptly sheathing his whole cock inside of you, and your head throws back.
He has the audacity to laugh at you, quickening his pace, each thrust hitting causing him to hit your cervix in a blissfully painful way, your eyes rolling back, begging for something. You're not quite sure what, though.
“So fucked out you can't think straight?” He coos, his pace never slowing, “if I knew this was all it took to shut you up I’d have done it a long time ago.”
And you whine at the thought.
He raises an eyebrow, “You like that idea, don't you, Bunny?” And you nod.
Suddenly, he pulls out completely, slapping your thigh again, “Roll over. Hands and knees.”
You quickly comply, supporting yourself on shaky arms and legs, and he trails a hand up your spine before pushing down, forcing your chest to the bed below you.
He groans as you arch your back, quickly pushing himself back inside your sopping cunt.,
“Such pretty holes you got here, baby,” he whispers, spitting onto your asshole as one of his thumbs spreads out the lubricant, causing your breath to hitch.
“Wanna fill both of them for you, can I do that?”
And you nod recklessly, your head bouncing against the pillows at the speed and power of his thrusts, and he takes your permission to push his thumb into your virgin ass, and the moan that rips through your throat is almost humiliating.
“You like being so full of me, don't you, Bunny?”
And you groan out, “yes! Fuck, I’m so close, Spencer!”
He laughs as your cunt starts quivering around his cock, his tip bullying that sweet spot inside of you.
“I know sweet thing, give it to me. Cum around my cock.”
With permission, you release around him, your pussy clenched around his dick and your ass squeezing his thumb, but he keeps fucking you through it.
His free hand laces through your hair, pulling your head back as you whimper in overstimulation.
“Take it,” he groans, mumbling more to himself as his cock twitches inside of you, “come on, take it like the dirty whore you are. Love having me fill both your nasty holes, fuck.”
His rhythm falters, and he thrusts one or two more times before spilling inside of you, fucking his seed deeper inside of you.
Once he calms down, he slowly removes his thumb before carefully pulling out of your pussy, and you whimper at the empty feeling.
“Stay here,” he whispers, kissing your hip before scrambling to the bathroom for a warm, damp washcloth.
He gently wipes you off, murmuring about how good you did for him, saying he’s proud of you before he helps you roll over onto your back.
He chuckles at the goofy smile on your lips, eyes tired and droopy, and he pushes the hair that had matted to your skin with sweat out of your face.
“You okay?” He asks, voice low, and you nod happily.
“‘M perfect.”
“Good,” he smiles, pulling the comforter over you and cuddling up to your spent body.
You lay in silence for a moment, happy and relaxed in his arms, before you speak up.
“So, you never hated me?”
“Jesus Christ, Bun,” he sighs exasperatedly, “go to sleep.”
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Touch Me Baby
pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader
wc: 21.7k
cw: mad flirting, swearing, use of the f slur once, shattering glass, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, brief mentions of suicide, mentions of cheating, men being weird and implications of harassment, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, p in v, oral (f recieving), minor praise kink, edging, teasing, multiple orgasms, wrap it before you tap it kids
a/n: set in modern times with phones and everything! i've never written anything this long before, and I really hope you guys like it!!
steve harrington masterlist
“You literally look so fucking hot oh my god.”
You rolled your eyes and checked yourself out in the mirror, smirking slightly. “I can feel you objectifying me Birdy.”
Robin rolled her eyes and collapsed on to your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I just think it’s unfair that you aren’t so emotionally and deeply in love with me.”
“Hey.” You peered over your shoulder, “I told you that I’d be your lesbian lover the second you needed one.”
She sighed and sat up on her elbows. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to do me out of pity. I want you to love me.”
You walked over and kissed her head. “ I do love you.”
“Yeah Yeah. As a friend.” She teased as you laughed and moved over to your vanity.
“Just because you’re not my type doesn't mean I don’t think you’re showstoppingly gorgeous.”
“Are you trying to get into my pants Y/l/n?” Robin teased.
“You wish Buckley.”
Robin let out the most over-dramatic sigh and collapsed on your bed again, giggling after a moment.
You laughed at her antics and checked out your makeup, your earrings, and your rings in the mirror next to your door. “Is this cute enough?”
“Did I not just say how hot—”
You and Robin had lived together for about three years now. You had become fast friends freshman year and then roommates for the last three years of your college experience. The apartment you shared was perfect because it had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the price didn’t rise once in your entire time living in NYC. The best perk of them all was having a home phone. It was reminiscent of your childhood and you both handed out your home phone number to everyone, enjoying the messages you received from anyone and everyone.
It rang and immediately went to voicemail, as Robin had set it on vacation mode the second you moved in meaning every single phone call went directly to voicemail so you could both hear who it was. A man’s voice rang out through your shared apartment.
“Hey it’s Steve, I just landed and I’m on my way to your place, I think it’s only a twenty-minute drive but I wanted to alert the household I was on my way.”
You looked over at Robin, slightly uneasy. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting him.”
Robin shrugged and her smile was a bit brighter. Her two best friends were about to meet, and maybe even hit it off and they could be a friend group—but Robin was getting ahead of herself.
“You’re going to like him. The same level of snark, but definitely a softie under it all. And he’s my best friend, so I wouldn’t be friends with him if he sucked.”
You crossed your arms. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just call him your best friend in front of me and say that, I know he’s one of your best friends, which is why I’m worried. What if he thinks I’m a huge bitch or something, or like…I don’t know.”
“He’ll love you.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Well. We have twenty minutes to fix up the house so that he doesn’t think we’re complete and total slobs or anything.”
The two of you spent the next seventeen minutes unfolding your futon couch bed, frantically shoving trash in trash bins, and stuffing the dishwasher with dishes. You definitely weren’t slobs by any means, but sometimes it was easier to leave wine glasses or bottles on the coffee table, or just toss your bra onto the chair since you didn’t want to wear one anymore or…
“Which candle?”
You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the extra pillows from your room. “Does it matter?” You yelled back to Robin.
“I don’t know!”
“Well, he’s your home best friend. So whatever you think would suit the straight man you’re friends with.” You walked out and placed the two pillows on the pull-out bed.
“Okay, I’m going with Midnight Citrus because it’s my favorite and he can suck it up.”
“Whatever you say, girl….”
Both of your heads turned when you heard the knock on the door. Robin literally shrieked as she barreled towards the door and you swear you could hear Steve laugh through it.
Robin definitely knocked something over on her way over and you spent the next thirty seconds picking up the bowl and its contents from off the floor.
You had seen pictures of Steve before. There were plenty around the house of the two of them by themselves or with other friends from their hometown, so you knew Steve was an attractive man, but something about seeing him in person was a whole different beast.
And there were no pictures in the apartment to prep you for the fact that he had these thin wire-framed glasses. You could have sworn he sucked the literal breath out of you.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Steve smiled that same lopsided smile you had seen on the walls and you probably would have dragged him back to your bedroom right then and there if Robin wasn’t standing right there and staring at you with the most hopeful look on her face you had seen since her breakup during sophomore year.
“It’s uh, it’s so good to finally meet you too. Heard so much about you.” You smiled at him and kept your hands awkwardly in your back pockets.
Steve nodded. “Same here. She actually doesn’t shut up about you.”
“I could say the same thing.”
“Okay, no need to be rude.” Robin huffed and haphazardly tossed Steve’s bags onto the couch.
You and Steve shared a quick look, both of you trying not to laugh.
“Ready to go Stevie boy? I know you just landed but it’s a Friday and I want to go out.”
He nodded. “I remember the text you sent me like last week as a reminder Robs. I just have to change.”
“The bathroom is the second door on the right.” You smiled at him and watched as he grabbed things.
You looked over at Robin. “Where exactly do you want to go out?”
Steve passed by you and you caught a hint of the cologne he had put on this morning. He closed the door and you had to blink a few times. “Sorry, where did you say?”
“I was thinking we could just go to the Cubbyhole…”
“Robin, we are not taking him to Cubbyhole and ruining our reputation there.”
“It’s literally not that big of a deal.”
“Babe, we are not bringing your straight man friend to a lesbian bar.”
“Fine then—”
“And definitely not Henrietta’s either.” You cut her off.
Robin crossed her arms. “ Well, then where do YOU want to take him? Because I’m not going to—”
“Girl, please. It’s like you have no faith in me. Who showed you both of those bars in the first place?”
“Fine then.”
You smiled at your victory and watched as Robin walked over to the little whiteboard you had in the hallway. Robin erased the bottom half of the words but kept the tally up top. “So where are we going tonight?”
“Are you okay with more of a just ‘sitting and drinking’ bar instead of clubbing tonight? Or at least we start at a bar and then move on to clubs?”
Robin’s face twisted, but then she conceded. “Ugh, fine.”
“Why don’t we start at Nothing Really Matters?”
“Which one is that?”
Steve popped out of the bathroom right as Robin asked that question, causing you to stutter a bit in your answer.
Steve was wearing these blue jeans that fit his thighs his ass him so well, and some clearly well-loved white Nike sneakers. But what got you was the shirt combo he was wearing. A tight black tee, covered by a short-sleeved patterned button-up, that was unbuttoned and just tight enough to fuck you up.
Plus, you were sure you saw a silver chain around his neck, which made you wonder what it would look like when if he was above you.
“I-I…um. It’s the one in.” You bit the inside of your cheek and looked back at Robin. “The one in the 50th Street subway station.”
Robin raised her eyebrow at you, but you just shook your head, deciding to ignore what just happened and barrel through.
“A bar in a subway station?”
You smiled over at Steve. “It’s not as gross as it sounds. I swear. It’s one of my favorite little spots that not a lot of people know about so there’s almost always seating and they have really good drinks there too. Besides, it’s in the station so if Robin wants to abandon us for some clubbing then the train is right there.”
He nodded and put his stuff away, while you looked back over at Robin who was making a face at you.
“What?”
She huffed and went into the kitchen.
When you just stared at her, confused, she aggressively made a small wave for you to follow her. You sighed and obliged, managing to walk directly into Steve’s chest because you weren’t paying attention.
“Shit! Sorry.” Your hands were against his chest while he had one of his hands on your waist.
“N-no it’s fine.” He gave you a sheepish smile and quickly pulled his hand off your waist, but your skin was covered in goosebumps from how close you two were.
You quickly hurried into the kitchen where Robin was impatient tapping her foot. “Seriously?”
“W-what?” you smoothed down the front of your top, trying not to look up at her.
“You know what.”
“Birdy I–”
“No, save it. I don’t want to fight. I just want to know why you’re so against going clubbing tonight when that was the original plan.”
If you were to tell Robin the truth, it would be because you weren’t sure you wouldn’t end the night with her best friend in your bed, kissing him like the world was ending, doing things that would have her kicking you out of the apartment and her life.
Or maybe it’s because you want to spend the entire night just talking to Steve and listening to his voice and learning every single thing about him. After all, you were utterly entranced.
“I just, I worked all day, and now that we’re actually going out…I don’t know if I have the energy to go all out.” This wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth. You had worked twelve hours today, and even before Steve had arrived, you had been dreading going out anyway.
Robin’s face twisted a little bit. “It’s Steve's first time visiting me in the city and I wanted to show him around and show him all the places that I get to have fun.”
“And for him to have a friend for when you inevitably win the bartender’s number tonight and go back with her to her place….”
Robin’s cheeks turned bright red and she huffed again. “What–no–okay so maybe a bit but–”
“Look, babe, if you want to go to the Cubbyhole, I am more than supportive of that, it’s just that it’s not what I’m in the mood for. You could always ask Steve to go with you. Or ask him what he wants. And if he’s okay with going out, we can all start at the bar, and then we can split up based on how we are all feeling. Steve literally just got off of a plane not even an hour ago.”
The two of you agreed on a plan and walked back into the living room, where Steve had been shifting his bags around, and had his phone open.
“Are we ready?” He stood up and smiled at the both of you.
You both nodded and smiled at one another. One of you was excited to start the night. And the other was dreading what would happen when Robin inevitably left you alone with her hot best friend from home.
_________________________________________________________________________
The three of you had managed to snag one of the tables up against the wall of the bar. Steve sat on one side, and you sat on the other, with Robin between you. It was the perfect setup for everyone since Robin was in between her two favorite people on the planet, and you got to look at Steve frequently because he was in your direct line of sight.
It was most definitely the alcohol, or maybe it wasn’t, but Steve was getting more attractive by the minute.
“I’ll go get us another round!” Robin excitedly grabbed all three glasses and ran back off to the bar to get more drinks. While you were so grateful that it was going so well, you couldn’t help but Steve was feeling the same way you were.
Were you such a bad friend if you were actually excited for Robin to leave the two of you alone together?
“So how did you meet Robin?”
You blinked a few times before looking over at Steve. It was dimly lit, but you were seated next to the lamp on the wall, so he was bathed in a red glow. He must have been some sort of Greek god or something because no one can look that good in any lighting at all times.
“She didn’t tell you already?”
Steve shook his head, smiling slightly.
You bit your cheek again and smiled. “Okay so. We met in our first year here, and I wanted to beat the shit out of her, oh my god, she like, never shut up. And while I love her for it now, it was causing some strained tensions between the two of us. So we were in the same class and got partnered for a project about Women’s history, specifically, authors who we deemed as important. And so I offered up Toni Morrison, who is probably my favorite author of all time, and Miss Indiana over there told me that her books were mediocre at best and wanted to do a project about Virginia Woolf. Then I called her gay, and she freaked out. Not in the aggressive way you’re thinking, but simply because I knew she was a queer woman, and it freaked her out that someone could tell. Like only a gay woman picks Virginia Woolf.”
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit, and you could tell he was unsure about the path this story was taking, but you continued on.
“She ended up letting me win the argument and we put together the most beautiful slideshow on god’s green earth. I mean, seriously to this day, I think about the transitions. A good PowerPoint can make or break a class—anyway. After that, Robin didn’t speak to me for the rest of the week.”
“Which is valid because I thought she was going to fucking hate crime me since my experience with people knowing I’m gay is either Steve or getting called a fag so…” Robin placed the drinks down in front of the respective people and sat down on her stool.
“Until…” You took a sip of your drink, cutting her off so you could finish the story.”We attended the same party that Friday night at Vickie’s house—I’m assuming you know all about Vickie and the mess that was—anyway. We were at Vickie's place and I went into the kitchen where some girls were making fun of Birdy and calling her some really awful shit because she was from Cowland, and so I called them all a bunch of cunts and then defended my homegirl because women support women, especially queer women. Then she kissed me, and—she’s actually not that bad of a kisser if I’m being so honest with you—and then we’ve been best friends since.”
“I’m a phenomenal kisser, excuse you.”
You smiled and nudged her with your elbow. “Sure thing Birdie. You’re nowhere near the bottom of my list though. I think Malcolm is—remember him?”
Robin burst into laughter. Steve looked between the two of you, extremely confused by the entire situation—it was written all over his face.
“He used to—” You couldn’t breathe because of how hard you were laughing. The sentence was virtually unfinishable. “He-He would…” You tried to take a few breaths. “He would, uh, spray cologne in his mouth instead of using a mint because he thought that’s what it was for—”
You and Robin collapsed against one another, back into your fits of laughter. This had Steve cracking up, not just at the fact that this man was stupid, but because you and Robin’s laughs were contagious.
“She didn’t figure it out until the fourth date.” Robin blurts out, causing you to wipe away the tears in your eyes and shove her slightly.
“Shut UP. I only kissed him like twice before then and it was just pecks.”
You caught a glance of Steve out of the corner of your eye, and he was looking right at you. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment and the two of you stopped time for a moment. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirked up into a smile before he broke eye contact and looked back at Robin.
“Wood in the mouth takes a whole new meaning—”
“Oh please. Don’t even start with that—”
“I’m just saying your choices in partners–”
“At least I didn’t date a married woman–”
“WHAT.”
Your eyes widened and you looked at Steve. “She didn’t tell you?”
Robin started hitting your arm. “No. I. did. Not!”
You laughed and used one of your hands to shove hers away from you. “It was like a three-month relationship but she realized–”
Robin shifted tactics and clamped a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t finish the sentence. After a moment she made a gagging sound and quickly pulled her hand away. “Did you just fucking lick my hand?”
You winked at her and looked back at Steve. “She knew this woman’s wife too. A month into dating Robs found out. Rough semester.”
“Oh my god. Robin. Who are you? What else have you done that I don’t know about?”
“That’s it. If you’re going to tell him all of my wrongdoings, I’m out.” Robin downed her drink and stood up. She kissed your cheek and grabbed her purse off of the chair she was sitting on.
“Remember to wear protection there kid.”
She rolled her eyes at you and turned towards Steve. “I know I—”
“Robs, seriously, it’s okay. Go have fun. I have been traveling all day. And I don’t mind talking to Y/n—”
“Unlike someone here, I’m not going to abandon you, Steve, don’t worry.”
Steve’s hand rested over his heart. “You’re too kind.”
Robin scoffed but was smiling the whole time. “Don’t wait up. Mom, Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And with that, she left you and Steve sitting in the bar.
“So Steve, what else do you want to know about our girl??”
The two of you spent the next three hours sitting at the bar, ordering drink after drink. Eventually, you and Steve were knee to knee, your head on his shoulder when you laughed too hard, trading stories about Robin. Nice didn’t even begin to describe the way his cologne smells when you would rest your head on his shoulder, giggling about something he said. Or the way his hand felt when it rested on your thigh as the two of you talked and talked and talked.
Or when the two of you couldn’t stop giggling on the subway as you told him about the time Robin threw up on someone on the subway after you both had been drinking all day during last year’s Saint Patrick’s Day.
Or when you stumbled slightly on the street, clinging to Steve as he clung to you. Enjoying the sound of his voice as he whispered things into your ear.
Or as your back was up against the wall next to your door, you watched Steve’s hands use the key and unlock your door, except both of you forgot the fact that the bolt was also locked, meaning Steve slammed his face right into the door since it wasn’t moving. You clamped your hand over your mouth, dying of laughter, watching as Steve tried not to laugh at the door himself, instead smiling brightly at you, with his head against the door.
Or when you both stood in the hallway of your apartment, neither one of you wanting the night to end, toeing the line. Eyes pretending they weren’t staring at lips. Hands fluttering around, almost grabbing one another. An inch away from more than just friends.
______________________________________________________________________________
The next morning, you awoke to an empty apartment and a text from Robin saying that the two of them decided to “hit the town”.
You took your time. Decidedly talking yourself out of everything that had happened last night, especially when Robin had left you and Steve alone. It was dumb of you to even think about potentially betraying Robin’s trust like that. She didn’t bring Steve here to add him to your collection of failed lovers—and even if she did, you had a sinking feeling that Robin would choose Steve.
It’s not to say that she didn’t love you, adore you, and wish nothing but the best for you, but you wish to never even put her in that position.
So instead, you decided to take your mind off of everything by spending the afternoon in one of your favorite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shops that was only a few minutes walk away from your place.
You had managed to snag your favorite seat: a comfortable chair next to the window, and a plug. The plug was the best part since it meant you rarely had to get up and could just charge your devices without having to leave the spot you were in for potentially hours. And today was one of those days. The collection of mugs on the table grew as the hours of the day went on. By the time hour four had rolled around, there were about five mugs and two plates.
That’s when the world did that thing again, when it decided to start ruining your day. First, your laptop was overheating more than usual, which was just plain irritating. Then, they had run out of the panini you were going to get for lunch. The final straw, however, was when one of your exes came waltzing up to the table.
“Y/n, it’s been so long. How are ya?”
You tried not to let a full resting bitch face take over, but to any observer, you were not happy to see the man in front of you. “Malcolm. Hey. I’m good.”
“I’m doing great too. Mind if I sit? I just can’t believe I ran into you here.”
Your breath hitched and that little voice in your head screamed panic!
“Um—actually, well, I come here all the time and you know that…Second, this seat's taken.”
“Well I’ve been here for about five minutes now and no one has taken that seat–”
“You’ve been watching me for five minutes? That’s fucking creepy Malcolm.” You tapped your finger against your keyboard nervously, eyes darting around, hoping someone would catch on to how uncomfortable this was for you.
“Please. That chair isn’t for anyone now is it?”
“Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”
It’s still unsure if you audibly let out a sigh of relief seeing Steve approach the table, and take the seat next to you.
Malcolm crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Look bud, I don’t know if you’re trying to play the hero card here by swooping in to try and save some damsel in distress you don’t know just to get her number, but you can right fuck off.”
Steve turned and looked at you. “Is he bugging you, Y/n? Because I’ll fucking kick his ass…”
You smiled and placed your hand on top of Steve’s thigh under the table, where Malcolm couldn’t see. You gave it a squeeze, hoping to god he understood how grateful you were at the moment for him. “Steve, this is Malcolm…you remember…from the other night.”
“Shut the fuck up—this is cologne guy?”
You nodded. Throughout the rollercoaster of being approached by an ex who was kind of threatening you, inside your favorite coffee shop, while you were alone, your heart rate shot up. Your heart was pounding. But when Steve put his hand on top of yours, you thought your heart rate would skyrocket.
And then the weirdest thing happened, it didn’t. Steve started rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, and your heart rate went down. If this was on purpose, you might never know, but this simple gesture from someone you have known for mere hours had your breathing even out and your heart rate slide back down to within reason.
Wasn’t it written somewhere that love makes your heart beat out of your chest?
That love makes your soul bleed and your eyes weep. Love is supposed to make you crazy and worship the other person till the ends of the earth. It’s supposed to be overwhelming and make you feel like you could burst just from how much love you hold within yourself. It was a disease, unable to be cured—a madness. It’s all-consuming, unforgiving, a fire that cannot be tamed. Something you willingly killed yourself for. Ended it all because the idea of losing it was a fate worse than death
What you’re feeling couldn’t be love then. That’s what you had decided. You weren’t going batshit crazy over the idea of risking your life for him or losing your mind over the thought that he might not love you back. It was just a plain and simple joy: sitting next to him, his hands on yours.
Your heartbeat had found its way back to normal, and your mind began to refocus on the confrontation in front of you.
By the time your vision refocused after the thirty seconds you managed to blackout, Malcolm was glaring at Steve but starting to walk away. Whatever Steve said, worked, and you looked over at him, confused. " I think I must have blacked out or something because how the hell did you get him to..."
Steve shrugged. "If you missed it, you missed it."
"You're joking right?"
Steve shrugged and smiled. His hand was still on yours, but you completely forgot about it—
"What are you working on?"
—Til now.
You begrudgingly took your hand away from his and brought it up to the keyboard of your laptop, clicking it awake so he could see what you had been working on. The two of you spent the next hour sitting and talking about your courses, which were all a bunch of nonsense anyway since you were a second-semester senior with barely anything to do.
"You're taking a metal-welding class for credit?"
You smirked and nodded. "When I tell you college is a joke, I truly mean it. I kind of love it though. Robin, however, dislikes being outlesbianed by someone who is not a lesbian. But I think I'm getting pretty good at it too."
_____________________________________________________________________________
Two hours later, you and Steve found yourselves as the last two in the coffee shop, still talking about anything and everything you possibly could—wherever the conversation led you.
When it was time to get kicked out, Steve helped pack up your things, and you both started the short walk back to the apartment where you ended up raiding the "delinquent Cabinet" as it had been affectionately named and properly labeled.
By the time Robin got home from her shift, you and Steve had demolished a joint, several shooters, half a bottle of prosecco, and half a bottle of vodka. The conversation had never stopped, with the two of you always finding some way to stay touching to one another. You couldn't deny that the feeling of Steve calmed you down immensely, and the courage you were feeling from the past few hours helped with the want to have your hands on him.
But when Robin walked into your apartment, you and Steve sobered up a tiny bit, deciding to leave some space between you both. You missed the way his hand felt on your calf, absentmindedly massaging it as the two of you talked about the difference between weed from Indiana and weed from a major city.
“Hey you two…”
“Birdy!” You exclaimed. Your eyes were fading away from the red of smoking, but your smile was lazy and your body felt heavy, but not in a bad way.
“Ah, I see we broke into your stash?”
You smirked slightly, and nodded. “Well if Mr. Harrington is going to smoke good weed, no offense to your friend back home, then he needs the best.”
“Eddie sells good weed.” Steve defended his friend from home but it just made you giggle.
“Steve, that joint you gave me tasted like the equivalent of watered down vodka. It’s good, but it’s not the best. You can’t deny that mine was waaaaayyyyyyy better. Besides, it came from a pretty girl so it’s automatically better than Eddie’s.”
Steve’s cheeks blushed slightly as he looked over at Robin. “How was work?”
Robin’s eyes shifted between the two of you on the couch, but then settled on Steve. “How much did she have?”
“Don’t wanna know Birdy!” Your voice sang out across the room.
Steve shrugged. “Work?”
She huffed and hung up her coat, admitting defeat on getting information out of a crossed-you. Robin kicked off her shoes and grabbed one of the bottles off of the counter–the one that was still half full–and joined the two of you on the couch. Robin managed to fit herself perfectly between you and Steve, causing you to frown slightly, but say nothing.
“I almost punched an old lady but nothing new.” Robin took a long swing from the bottle of wine.
“Was it that cunt Mrs. Defejeki?”
“Woah, language.”
“What are you five?” You rolled your eyes at Steve’s comment and picked up the remainder of the joint out of the ashtray, trading the weed for the rest of the bottle of wine. You and Robin shared basically everything. There were always a few exceptions, but still. If you started a bowl, Robin would finish it. If Robin did a shot, you did a shot. And while you were both built differently, the mix of shit the two of you ingested managed to get the both of you to about the same place.
Robin just relit the joint in her mouth, nodding at you. “You’d think she’d go somewhere else to buy eggs if she always has something fucking stupid to say about our eggs. Ma’am, no offense, but you’re in a fucking city. If you want fresh eggs, get a friend with a coop on a roof or some weird shit.” She took a long drag, eyes rolling back and her eyelids closing.
You nodded. “Or just…leave the fucking city.”
This caused both you and Robin to burst into a fit of giggles, causing the latter to cough a little bit since she was still inhaling.
You felt Steve’s eyes on you the whole time, but it only made you warm and fuzzy inside…or maybe that the combination of shit you put in your body. But either way, his eyes were gorgeous. You couldn’t help looking back at him, trying to locate every single color that reflected off of his eyes in the dim lighting. It didn’t help that his eyes were redder than yours, but he was still just as stunning to you.
Robin leaned in front of you, blocking your view of the gorgeous specimen across from you on the couch, and placed the filter back in the ashtray. “Now what kiddos.” She placed a hand on your thigh and looked over at you, a smile on her face.
“Did you wanna go out? Because I’m a little decapitated at the moment.”
This caused Steve and Robin to burst at the seams. You furrowed your eyebrows as Steve and Robin kept laughing at you. Everytime they managed to calm down a bit, they would look at one another and burst out laughing again.
“What!” You grumbled, shoving your foot against Robin’s thigh, trying to get her to pay attention to you again. “Whattttttt.”
“It’s—” She giggled. “Not decapitated–HA–Incapt—” She couldn’t speak, she giggled so much. “Fucxk Steve.” She heaved out. “How the fuck do you say it?”
Steve, who was not much better than Robin at the moment, was wiping literal tears from his eyes.
“Incoorperat—fuck—wait.” He giggled again, and you were sure a flame just washed over your body, leaving you with goosebumps. “In—Cah—Pass–ih–tay–ted.”
He slowly sounded out the word like he was in the middle of an eighth grade spelling bee.
You slapped Robin's arm. “I literally said that!!”
Robin and Steve burst into another fit of laughter.
The group of you continued to giggle, and talk over one another. All of you filled to the brim with smiles and laughter and stories to tell.
At some point you had changed into your pajamas, most likely when Robin had decided to call her night and go to bed. You, on the other hand, had changed into your pajamas, and gone back out into the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made during the night’s festivities. Steve, who was still awake, offered to help you, like the gentlemen you were learning he was.
The two of you cleaned the kitchen, talking about your childhoods, comparing the worlds you grew up in–their likeness, their differences.
And somehow 11 pm turned into Midnight. And then Midnight became 2 am. And then 2 am had become 6 in the morning.
You had spent the entire night, sitting on your couch, talking to Steve Harrington.
Since it was early enough in the morning, you invited Steve to come and sit on the fire escape with you, and watch the sunrise.
It really sucked visually when there was no sun to watch rise since the sky was overcast and gray, but that didn’t stop you from enjoying Steve’s company.
The two of you sat in silence with one another. You and Robin had always joked about how much you hated domesticity, the thought of just existing with someone else for the rest of your life was definitely a thought that scared you. Especially doing things as simple as laundry or the dishes, eating your meals together, or sitting on the fire escape and watching the sunrise together. But this moment, with Steve, made your heart ache. You never wanted this moment to end. It was a new drug you didn’t know you needed. And now that you had it, how were you supposed to give it up?
“I really appreciated last night–tonight—the past several hours.”
You looked away from the street, and over at Steve. “I-...I really enjoyed it too.”
He smiled softly at you, and you have no idea what came over you, maybe it was bravery. But you reached over and brushed some of the hair in his face, behind his ear. It was intimate, maybe too intimate for people who were supposed to be friends by proxy of Robin Buckley and nothing else.
You could feel Steve’s breath hitch and for a singular moment you regretted everything. You regretted staring at him in the bar. You regretted getting coffee with him. You regretted telling him about your thesis. You regretted sitting next to him during your movie night. You regretted the movie night. You regretted staying up and talking to him for hours on end, wasting away the night until he knew almost every single thing about you. You regretted suggesting coffee on your fire escape when you realized it was six in the morning. You regretted brushing his hair out of the way.
But most importantly, you regretted not putting your coffee cup down when you did because the hot liquid spilled all over your lap when you quickly retracted your hand and stood up.
“Shit–Fuck. Sorry.” You watched as the liquid covered your bare legs and as the mug clattered across the fire escape, and off the edge, shattering on the ground below.
“Shit–are you okay?”
You were shaking your head. The coffee was fucking hot, that was for sure. And that was at least your excuse for the tears that sprang to your eyes. Especially since you really liked that mug too. Steve put his mug down and crawled through your window. “Where are your towels??”
Your hands covered your face as you vaguely mumbled something adjacent to ‘the closet’. Steve had no idea which closet you meant, so he grabbed the dish rag hanging off of the stovetop and made his way back across the living room and through the window.
“Are you okay?” He handed you the towel and you wiped off the burning hot liquid. Luckily, you barely had enough coffee to kill you, so your legs were just a bit red from the quick extreme change in temperature.
Robin, who had heard the commotion ran out of her room in a tired stupor and looked around, panicking. “Is everything okay?”
Steve looked back into the apartment at Robin. “She–uh, she spilled her coffee and the mug went over the railing and she’s not burnt or anything but—yeah.”
Robin furrowed her brows and made her way over to the window. “Sweetheart, why are you up this early? It’s not even seven am.”
You shook your head, and that’s when the thunder started. You aggressively sighed and made your way back through the window into the apartment, following Steve who had done just that moments prior.
“I'm going to go take a shower.” You quickly made your way to your room before Steve or Robin could say anything.
You grabbed your lotion and a hair towel from your closet, alongside your robe, and headed into the bathroom. Once you closed and locked the door, you looked down at your legs. The red was starting to fade away, thank God, and there was no sign of bubbling so at least your embarrassing blunder wasn’t going to give you physical injury—only emotional.
Steve and Robin’s hushed whispers carried down the hall but you had no idea what the two of them were talking about, only that it was probably about you. You decided to ignore it and splash some water on your face.
God, how fucking embarrassing was that? You weren’t one to get flustered by men, or women, or really anyone, but this? What the fuck was that? Spilling hot coffee all over your lap?
And Steve had sprung right into action, could he be any more perfect? My god you were fucked.
It was at that moment that you realized you left your phone on the kitchen counter. It’s not that you couldn’t shower without music, but you preferred not to. So now you have to contemplate the dilemma of going out and facing your best friend and her best friend who were definitely talking about you, while you were only in a robe, or do you just suffer in silence.
When you heard the front door slam shut, you had your answer. Assuming that both of them had decided to go out to breakfast and give you some space, you shoved your clothes into the hamper in the closet in the bathroom and opened the door.
And there was Steve, with his hand up, as if he was about to knock. “Hey—sorry.”
“Oh–” You took a step back, and only looked at his face for a moment, a little too embarrassed to really make eye contact with him.
“Sorry, it’s just—I–uh, Robin went to get us some breakfast from this place…She wanted me to let you know, and you had been in there a while without the water running so I–uh–wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
You looked up at him and almost swooned at the sincerity in his eyes. Could this man be any more perfect? Did he want to talk to you? You had only been in the bathroom for like, five minutes without turning on the water?
“I’m fine Steve, thank you for asking. I wanted to…um…apologize for earlier when I–”
Steve shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, seriously–”
“No I so do, I literally made a move on my best friend’s best friend, and almost completely unwarranted too–”
You were cut off by the feeling of Steve’s lips on yours.
It was like heaven was on earth, and every single one of those thoughts came back to your mind. Steve’s lips—having coffee in the mornings with him. His eyes—getting dressed up and going out to lunch and running errands with him. His smile—making dinner with him and doing the dishes afterward. His hair—the sight of his head between your legs—
He pulled away the second he realized you weren’t kissing back and started to follow down the same path of panic you had just been on. “Shit—I read that so wrong–fuck, I didn’t—”
You pulled yourself out of whatever stupor you were in, grabbed Steve Harrington by the back of his neck and shoved his face into yours—lips crashing against the others. His hand flew around your waist and pulled you up against his body.
He tasted like mint chapstick, something you weren’t sure you were expecting, but it just added to how attractive he was.
Steve slowly walked you backwards, until the back of your thighs hit the counter. Steve all but picked you up while you hopped backward onto the counter. He was once again your knight in shining armor when he held you in place, saving you from toppling over into the sink. You laughed against his lips, causing him to smile and pull away for a moment. “You’re clumsy aren’t you.”
You watched as his chest rose and fell, just as quickly as yours. You pulled him into another first kiss, wanting to feel his lips again. “You have no idea.” You mumbled, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Steve moved his lips away, starting to kiss up your jaw, preening at every little gasp and inhale and sound you made. He squeezed your hips and moved your waist slightly, giving you the hint you needed to start grinding on him. His teeth grazed your ear and you let out a moan, rolling your body up against his.
Steve let out a breath against your neck making your skin break out into goosebumps. Your right hand was clutching the kitchen countertop, while your left hand had made its way up his chest and on the back of his neck. Your fingers wove into his hair, yanking on it slightly as he continued to kiss lightly down your neck.
Something you never thought would happen today was hearing Steve Harrington moan. It was one of the hottest sounds you had ever heard in your life, causing you to pull on his hair again just so you could hear it again.
“Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.” He groaned against your neck and pulled you directly against him.
“So do something about it.” You sighed out gripping the counter tightly.
You felt him smirk against your skin and pull away from you, much to your dismay, which you made known by your groan. "Steve please."
"Say it again Princess."
Your eyes met his as you bit your lips. "Please."
A wave of something came over your entire body at the look Steve gave you when spoke.
"Anything you want, pretty girl."
Something else you had never thought would happen today was the sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you on your bathroom floor between your legs.
You had basically prepped for this moment since you were completely naked under the robe you were wearing, but the thought of a shower was now far from your mind. Steve kissed your thigh, causing you to suck in a breath, and grip the countertop impossibly harder.
He slowly kissed up your thigh, moving your legs so that they were over his shoulders.
You moaned out his name, causing him to falter for only a moment. He groaned against your skin and squeezed your thigh with his hand. “Fuck me gorgeous.”
You licked your lips, unable to lift your head from the way it was resting on the mirror.
"Sweetheart, eyes on me."
You moaned and inhaled, looking down at the man between your legs. His eyes were already on yours, as he slid both of his hands up, pulling you directly against his mouth.
The feeling of his lips against your cunt made you let out the most strangled sound, trying your best to contain anything above a whisper.
You could have cummed at the way he was looking at you, but just rocked your hips against his mouth, hoping for a bit more of the feeling of him.
“Come on pretty girl.” He licked up your cunt, causing your body to involuntarily jolt a little bit. “I know you can make prettier sounds than that. I wanna hear them. I want the neighbors to know who’s fucking you like this–”
There was a knock on the front door, slightly frantic, but not panicked.
“Hey, guys? I accidentally locked the door, can you come get it for me?”
You let out a little gasp, your breath stuttering as you teetered on the edge of the counter and on an orgasm. Steve pulled away and kissed your thigh quickly. You leaned your head back against the mirror and just gripped the counter, coming to terms with the fact that your best friend just cock blocked you, and that Steve was no longer between your legs, eating you out like a starved man.
“Hey, pretty girl.” He cooed, standing up and kissing you quickly. “I know I know.”
You whined when he pulled away, the taste of you on his lips was not one that either of you would forget for at least the rest of the day, probably your lives.
“I’m gonna turn on the shower and then go let her in—.”
Your phone pinged with a text from Robin as Steve turned the shower on for you. You squeezed your legs together, trying to get any sort of release from the pent-up orgasm just sitting in your gut.
“You wouldn’t do anything without me, pretty girl, would you.”
“I could hurt you, Steve Harrington.” You muttered but nodded to his statement.
He smirked slightly but then closed the door behind him and you heard him make his way to the door, to let Robin into the apartment.
It wasn’t even 8 am and you hadn’t slept and the day was getting longer by the minute.
_____________________________________________________________________
After that morning, you had somehow managed to miss Steve at every turn, causing your frustration to build throughout the day, especially since he was leaving the next night.
And then, because of your classes, you managed to not see Steve at all for the rest of the trip, except for the few minutes where the two of you crossed paths, with Robin.
The last time you were face to face with Steve Harrington alone for more than a few seconds was when he was tongue-fucking you on your bathroom counter. And it was pissing you off.
But one day, a few days after Steve had flown home, your phone pinged. And when you saw that one Steve Harrington had started following you on instagram, you followed him back embarrassingly fast.
The only thing that was more embarrassing then that was how quickly he dmed you after.
And suddenly you were attached to your phone: Constantly checking it to see if he texted you, smiling at your screen whenever his photo popped up, giggling at his cheesy jokes out loud. Your demeanor had completely changed. Instead of the consistent snark and attitude, you had a more pleasant and approachable demeanor. You would wake up early in the mornings and make breakfast for Robin before she was even out of bed. At the clubs, you would dance and drink with people, but never danced with them for more than one song, and didn’t take anyone home either. Sometimes you would even opt to sit there on your phone, texting Steve.
But after three weeks of being on the outside of whoever was making you feel this way, Robin had enough. She was going to find out who this mystery person was, and how the hell they managed to make you act like this.
“Who the fuck have you been texting?”
You looked up from your phone, immediately clicking it off. “What are you talking about?”
Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve been on your phone nonstop for the past two weeks, smiling at it like some sort of lovestruck idiot, so who is it? Who are you smitten for?”
“Pshh–I’m not—I think you’re losing it, or something.”
“Is it a girl?”
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.
“So what’s his name then huh?”
You looked away from her, staying silent.
“You can’t pretend like you haven’t been smiling at your phone, or that you haven’t been drifting off into space…You’re literally doing it right now?”
You blinked the images of Steve out of your mind and shook your head.
“You’re delusional—” Just as you looked over at Robin, she was on top of you, having launched herself across the room in an attempt to get your phone from your hands. Unfortunately, Robin launched herself at you with such force that the two of you toppled over and she managed to grab your phone, snatching it from your hands.
Right before she could slither out of your grasp, you grabbed her ankle and yanked her back towards your body. “Robin give me my PHONE.”
This was an unfortunate situation for many reasons. The first was that Robin escaped your grasp and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The second was that your phone unlocked with her face so it was relatively easy for her to snoop. The third reason happened so painfully slowly. You heard her laughter die off and silence take over. She had discovered who you had been texting.
And you just stood across from the bathroom door, leaning against the wall and bouncing your leg, eyes wide, heart beating loudly, as you could feel Robin looking through everything you had been saying to Steve.
She had been your best friend for years so she knew how you texted when you flirted, and to make matters worse, she knew how her other best friend texted when he was flirting too.
Suddenly the door opened quickly and Robin handed you your phone back.
“Birdy—”
She shook her head. “I’m going to go for a walk.” Her voice shook a little bit and all you could do was stand there, knowing better than to try and prod her. “I’m not—I just need to think and then we can talk about it.” She muttered.
You watched as Robin grabbed her coat, her purse, and her airpods before you watched the door slam shut.
The next thirty-seven minutes were filled with silence and a lot of panic cleaning. Suddenly your bed had new sheets in it, you had taken out the trash, the dishes had been done, you swept the kitchen—and even lit that midnight citrus candle Robin loved so much.
Ever since becoming friends, you and Robin simply didn’t fight. The two of you got along so well that it felt like you were made for each other sometimes. But right now? Now was not one of those times. Instead, you paced around in literal circles because the guilt of non stop texting Steve was eating you alive.
But it’s not like you did anything wrong either. The two of you had only been texting and nothing more. Sure it was almost every second you possibly could and he did take up all available space in your head, especially since the two of you never got around to round two of your bathroom scene—let alone finishing the first session.
You were not dating Steve Harrington. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t do anything else without Robin’s knowledge and consent of the issue in the first place.
You looked up when the door closed, making eye contact with your girl. In her hand, she had a brown paper bag and a drink carrier carrying her favorite drink in it, alongside yours. You smiled at her, hesitantly because she really could have thrown the drink in your face and you would have accepted it. But instead, Robin gestured towards the balcony and you nodded, grabbing some napkins and opening the window so she could step out onto the fire escape.
Once you both were through, you each sat in your respective spots, delegating the drinks and the pastries she had picked up on her way home from whatever path she had taken herself on. The two of you did this in complete silence. At first, it was nerve-wracking, but the peaceful knowledge of the fact that you both could move in sync with one another felt good.
You both sat and watched the people pass by, taking sips of your drinks, and taking small bites out of each of the pastries. You weren’t going to speak first—that much was obvious.
After a moment, Robin sighed and looked at you. “You like him a lot.”
Not a question, just a fact.
You nodded. “Yeah…”
“Hmm.” Robin’s mouth twisted, but not into anything malicious. She looked down at her hands. “I wish you told me you liked him sooner, because he clearly—uh, he clearly likes you back.”
Your cheeks tinged with pink, and your hands rubbed at your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that there was a blush on your face.
“I wasn’t going to do anything about it unless I talked to you first Birdy—”
“I know.”
“And neither was he—”
“I know.”
“And honestly Robin, I really do like him, and I was pretty sure he liked me back. I mean we spent an entire night out here talking and talking—I’ve never talked to anyone this much in my entire life. And he thinks I’m funny and actually answers my texts and I—I just….”
“I know.”
You looked over at her. Your mind swimming with thoughts of Steve and Robin. It was bringing you to the verge of tears since no matter how big a crush on someone was, you would never let it come between you and Robin’s friendship.
Robin took your hand in hers and shook her head. “It’s okay. I promise.”
“Really?”
“Yeah–I mean. I had to think about it and at first, I was really mad, like pissed, because I thought you two had been seeing each other behind my back—which obviously I know you weren’t—and then I realized how fucking smitten you’ve been since he was here. I mean your attention was basically in Indiana.” The two giggled a little bit, a tear breaking free from your eye as Robin continued. “But you weren’t. You were still my best friend and you didn’t even do anything because you cared about me? And I’m not exactly thrilled that Dingus has won your heart over me, but I also wouldn’t not recommend him, if that makes any sense.”
You nodded. “Birdy I–”
She squeezed your hand. “Really. It’s okay. I’m honestly just mad about the fact that he’s answering your texts. He’s the fucking worst at texting everyone else so it must mean he really likes you. I’m extremely jealous…”
You laughed again, just enjoying Robin’s goodness.
“Besides, I feel like it gives me the upper hand for a question I’ve been wanting to ask. Wanna go to Cowland with me in a few weeks? The kids have been dying to meet you and they’re graduating from high school and I was going to go back anyways but since I know you probably want to see Steve again–”
“Robin. I’ve been bugging you to take me to Cowland for literal years. I’d be so down to go, not just because Harrington is there.”
The two of you shared a hug, arms wrapped lovingly around the other, squeezing almost all the air out of each other’s lungs.
_____________________________________________________________________
Finally, the semester had ended, and it was time for Robin to go home and visit her kids. You and Robin had both walked across the stage, receiving your diplomas in your respective fields, both of you with Magna Cum Laude cords around your necks, plus a few others. Steve couldn’t make it up to the city that weekend, which was a little upsetting to Robin at first, but all was understood.
The two of you had signed a lease for another two years, deciding that you both wanted to stay in New York City, and you both wanted to live with each other. This was really exciting for both of you, but was causing a serious amount of guilt for your best friend.
"Robin, it's not bad news. I know I'm biased, but it's incredible news that you have a job, and you have a place to live. and Yes—-don't cut me off—Yes, it's sad because it's officially going to be your permanent home, but that's, like, that's what growing up is."
"When the fuck did you get so...so....wise?"
You shrugged and looked over at her with a smile.
Since Robin didn't have a license, the two of you patiently waited at the airport for Steve to arrive. He had no idea you were suddenly in the great state of Indiana. You had never been before, and Robin had told you not to get your hopes up—but part of you was excited to see where your best friend grew up, where she was before this chapter of your lives.
You hadn't told Steve that you were in state, at the request of Robin, since she had some sort of plan in her mind. You knew that the first step was gauging Steve's reaction to seeing you at the airport with her, which made no sense to you, but you kept your mouth shut since this was her home turf.
A maroon BMW pulled up in front of the two of you, and you could say you were surprised by Steve's car of choice, but you would be lying. It's not that he read as a rich person, but Robin had one time told you his parents were loaded and you had laughed her off. Seeing how nice this car was, you wish you could take it back.
Steve pulled up to the two of you and rolled the window down. "Do you actually need help with the luggage or can you—" The second he saw you, he lost track of his sentence. Eyes roaming over your face, your body. Why did it feel good to be looked at like that?
"You're here."
You gave him a nervous smile. "That is true, yes."
The corner of Steve's mouth tugged up into a smile, and the two of you continued to look at one another, enjoying the fact that you were finally in each other's company again for the first time in over a month.
Robin snapped a finger in front of your face. "Good grief you two, let's get moving. I'm not standing out here in the sun all day because we stunned Steve into silence with your presence—-and to be fair, if you surprised me, I would be shocked into silence too by how excited I would be— pop the trunk Steven— to see you, but this is not the time. I want to get on the road as quickly as possible."
Steve snapped out of the trance between you both and popped the trunk of the car. He quickly got out of the car and moved around it to grab the luggage from you, and Robin, to put into the trunk.
"You suck ass, Harrington. You'll get out of the car for her, but was gonna make me put my bags in the back myself."
Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, almost like an exasperated mother. "Robs, seriously. You know I would have gotten out to help you."
"I'm sure you would have Steve. I'm sure."
"You're not even in Hawkins and you're being a pain in my ass."
The two of them continued to squabble, making their way into the front of the car while you slid into the back. It was the sort of friendly banter that you could get used to.
And you did because, after about ten minutes into the drive, you had completely zoned out and watched as the roads turned into fields. You had never seen such flat land before, it was... bizarre. The world felt like it was supposed to have things reaching towards the sky—trees, skyscrapers, mountains—but not here. It was tall grass and nothingness. But it wasn't a bad feeling, just different—something almost serene about the vastness of it all.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be grounded, but you couldn't speak to that since you had literally run away to the city to live in the sky and aim for the stars.
Your introspection about the human condition of reaching for the stars was interrupted by Robin.
"Right Y/n?"
"Mhm."
"Were you even listening?" Steve huffed.
"To be so honest, I have no fucking idea what you said birdy. Not one clue."
Robin groaned and turned around in her seat to look at you. "How long have you been tuned out; I don't know how much of this I can restate."
"Basically since we left the city."
Robin groaned again: way louder, and with a lot more dramatics. "I'm not explaining this again. You agreed with me regardless, so it's the truth."
Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror and smiled at you. It was one of those smiles that could make a girl trip over her own feet, and it was directed at you, making your insides melt. Steve had clearly been out in the sun since he was a little tanner than you last remember, and he had a small swatch of freckles across his nose and cheeks. It was adorable.
"Oh! Oh! We're almost there!" Robin exclaimed, and you broke your eyes away from Steve's to look at the old sign she was pointing to.
Hawkins - 5 Miles
"Five minutes til you enter a literal hellscape."
Robin swatted Steve's arm and smiled back at you. "It's not that bad I swear. Like sure, it's a bit of a Cowland, that much is true, but—-"
"You don't have to justify Cowland to me Birdy. The only thing you have to justify is the fact that we have been on the road for almost an hour and I have yet to see a single cow. Now that's just ridiculous."
Robin smiled at you and turned back around, facing the front again. She reached over and snatched Steve's phone (something you realized was a habit with everyone) and opened his Spotify, scrolling until she found the right song. She cranked the volume up and rolled the windows down, screaming along the words to Everybody Wants to Rule the World. How fitting.
You rolled your window down and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on your face. While you had never been to Indiana before, or most of the middle of the country, something you definitely loved was how fresh the air was. No buildings or mass amounts of cars were polluting the air—just the grass and trees.
Steve looked in the rearview mirror at you again, and you looked up, feeling his gaze on you. You could see the glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. The pure joy that you were here. And you knew it was going to be a good two weeks here in Hawkins.
That was until it rained for three days straight, and you and Robin were basically stuck inside her room with nowhere to go. Robin's parents were kind enough to lend you their cars when they got home from work since Robin didn't drive and you didn't have a car, but that meant that if either of you wanted to go anywhere during the day, you had to bike or walk and neither of which, in the rain, was really ideal. You could always wait for Steve to get off of work, but by then you'd have Robin's parent's car so you were stuck.
But on the fourth day, you woke up to the smell of petrichor and a shining sun peering through the curtains. This was perfect because of you and Robin's strict itinerary.
Friday Day: Exploring the town/Lovers Lake
Friday Evening: Graduation
Friday Night: Grad Party
When Robin told you that you were spending your day at Lover's Lake, you thought she was actually going to murder you since there were no real places named that, but when the two of you were picked up by Steve to head to the lake, you found out it was, in fact, a real place.
It was actually kind of pretty, considering it was surrounded by woods. You were calmed by the sense of height within the area from the trees, but the actual visage of the lake was beautiful, and the sun reflecting off of that made it feel a bit more magical.
You were decked out in that same hoodie from the other day, as well as your favorite pair of shorts, both of which were covering up your favorite bathing suit. Swimming was enjoyable, but you weren't sure if today was a swimming type of day or a lounging in the sun type of day.
Either way, it was a 'try-not-to-stare-at-Steve-Harrington' day.
Your chauffeur started to help two other guys around his age, set up a picnic blanket, secure an umbrella into the sand, and set up the speaker for the music.
Nancy, the girl you had yet to be properly introduced to, got out of the car she drove here in with one of the boys, and walked over to you, a bright smile on her face.
"Hi! I'm Nancy, it's so nice to finally meet you. Robin hasn't shut up about you since you first met at college."
Your face lit up and you tried to cover up the smirk on your face. "Since we first met? Damn Birdy, I had no idea..."
"Thanks, Nance, now she's not going to shut up about it for fucking weeks," Robin mumbled, slinking off to go grab more things from Steve's car.
"It's really nice to meet you, Nancy. I've heard a lot about you too." You smiled and shook her hand—it felt a little serious for a meeting, but you got the sense that was just how Nancy was.
"Did Robin add your songs to the playlist? It gets really varied at times, but it's the only way we figured out to let each person be happy with the music if we all put fifteen songs on there, and then hit shuffle."
You shook your head, really confused about what this girl was saying to you. Nancy handed you her phone and scrolled through the playlist, showing you everyone's music picks, and explaining it in further detail. When you finally understood, you paused. "So can I add anything? No questions asked?"
Nancy nodded, smirking at the slight twinkle in your eyes. You added yourself to the playlist and handed her back her phone. "I'll add them before we start the playlist so that way they're in there fair and square."
Nancy nodded and then looked over at the boys. "So! You've met Robin, and obviously Steve, has Robin introduced you to anyone else yet?"
You shook your head 'No' and Nancy took your hand and dragged you off into the sand towards the gaggle of boys all staring at the umbrella since it was not as sturdy as they thought it would be.
After a single gust of wind, it had knocked right over.
"Nance there's no need to man-handle y/n—-"
Nancy rolled her eyes and stopped short of the group. "Go get some rocks Steve, and pile it around the base, I'm pretty sure we went over this last summer..."
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure it ended up not working in the long run there Wheeler." The long-haired guy crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow.
"Do they always give you this much lip even when they're wrong?" You half-whispered to Nancy, causing the two of you to try and cover your laughs.
"Y/n! You're supposed to be on my side here." Steve threw his hands up in the air before they landed on his hips.
"You look like a mom." You blurted out, causing yourself and the rest of the young adults to laugh together. Except for Steve, who was fake fuming, but really just at a loss. He really didn't think he looked like a mother but if a girl he had hung out with for no more than three days thinks so, then he might as well be fucked.
"Where did Robin find you?"
You looked across the group to the guy with longer hair, a tight tee with some sort of skull on it, and black bathing suit shorts. He was attractive, that was sure enough, but he definitely wasn't the pretty boy Harrington wanted to take a bite out of. Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Take a wild guess."
"Touché. So. More importantly, what are you adding to the playlist."
You shrugged. "You'll find out. I'm guessing you're Eddie."
"In the flesh." He did one of those bows that was reminiscent of a movie from your childhood—it was really fucking nerdy.
"And so you must be Jonathan." Your tone shifted, slightly nicer, less of a bite to it. It stumped Steve, watching you clearly figure out and adapt yourself to the person you were talking to, but never being one to actually hurt the other person, just tease lightly.
Jonathan nodded, his arm was already around Nancy's shoulder, and he gave you a small 'Hey".
Robin shouted over at the group for help with all three of the coolers, and you watched Jonathan and Nancy go over to help her with them. You helped Eddie and Steve set the umbrella again (this time properly), and moved on to setting up your towel and bag.
Steve placed his towel on the other side of yours and sat down on the ground next to you. Eddie had moved on to setting up his area around the picnic table, reorganizing coolers, and setting up the various snacks for the group throughout the day.
"So..."
You turned and looked over at Steve, who was looking right at you, a brightness in his eyes that the sun couldn't match. It looked right, like it was supposed to always be there.
"So..." You responded, smiling back at him.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
You sighed and leaned back on your hands, looking out over the water. "Robin thought that it would be a good...test of character, I think is how she put it. She, uh, got a hold of my phone a few weeks ago, and made the connection about why I had been so..."
Steve bit his lip. "So...?"
You rolled your eyes. "I'm not gonna tell you if you're going to be a jerk about it."
Steve held his hands up, "I swear I won't be."
"Fine." You huffed and looked down at your legs. "Why I was so...attached to my phone, and blushing all the time, and why I kept smiling when I would get a text....and yeah."
You saw as Steve's face flashed with a wave of emotions, all of which managed to stay just below the surface. One of these days you would have to just stare at his face all day so you could learn very little mannerism, every little quick about this man.
"You, uh, smile every time I text you?"
You pursed your lips but then nodded. "Yeah. I—uh, I do."
"Hm." Steve nodded and looked out over the lake.
"Yeah."
You looked over at Steve just as he looked at you, causing both of you to smile again. Just as Steve was about to say something, you heard Robin call across the beach.
"Babe!"
You huffed slightly, the smile on your face becoming a little fake before turning and looking over at your best friend. "Yeah, babe?"
"Add your fucking music so I can hit shuffle."
"Aye Aye Captain." You gave her a mock salute and pulled out your phone, turning back towards Steve.
"Am I seriously going to get judged for what I put on?"
"We actually have a no complaints rule, since a certain someone would always bitch when his music never came on."
Your face lit up with amusement and nodded, before looking down at the playlist and scrolling through the songs already on there to see what had been added already.
"You really like the seventies and eighties, huh Harrington."
He shrugged and smiled. "I think I could have easily been an eighties heartthrob."
You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm slightly. "Yeah okay, sure."
Steve feigned a gasp. "You don't think I could've been!"
This caused you to laugh but continued to sort through your music, choosing the fifteen songs you felt like you wanted to hear most today.
"I'm sure you could have Steve. I'm sure."
Steve clutched his heart and fell backward. "You're killin' me here princess!"
You hit his thigh, not hard, but just enough to get your point across. "Don't call me that, unless you're going to commit to finishing the job because you owe me...big time." Your eyebrows were raised expectantly, but your voice was low so only Steve could hear you.
Steve smirked, and his eyes went a little dark for a moment before the sun returned them to their caramel color. "Trust me, now that you're here..."
"Good." You smiled and laid back on your towel, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face and thighs, and enjoying the company of the smirking man next to you.
And you both stayed like this for the next hour, only getting up when food was offered. Steve eventually left your side, deciding to go for a swim. You opted out but enjoyed the view.
“He’s something else…”
You turned and looked at Robin sitting next to you, nodding in agreement.
“He really likes you.”
Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” Teasing her.
Robin shook her head and smiled. “I don’t have to. I mean, I've known him for years, but he’s never been like this about any girl, not even Nance.”
“Steve and Nancy dated?”
“They were the couple in high school. Did not end well, but the two of them are still good friends, surprisingly.”
You mouthed a soft ‘oh’.
“But…I’m being dead serious Y/n, he’s never been so…chill, peaceful…I don't know—”
“Sure.” Nancy chimed in and sat down on the opposite side of you.
“What?”
���He’s just so…sure about you. Like yeah, he can be a cocky asswipe, but he’s always freaking out about whether or not something is right, or going the way he thinks it’s supposed to.”
Robin nodded along while you tried to breathe evenly again. Not that you didn’t get those feelings from Steve, you absolutely did, but hearing about it from both Nancy and Robin at the same time was a bit overwhelming.
“He just, He’s so calm.”
“We’re not even dating.” You sighed, crossing your arms and looking out at the man in the water. He caught you looking at him, and winked at you, sending you a smile along with it. You waved slightly at him, returning the smile.
“He hasn’t asked you yet?”
“Nancy, it’s the twenty-first century, girls can ask guys out too.”
You rolled your eyes at Robin and shook your head. “No, not yet. We’ve only actually spent about fifteen hours in each other’s presence, with one of those being the hour drive down from Indianapolis…”
“Holy shit, and he’s that….wow.” Nancy leaned back on her hands, looking out over the water.
Plus we didn’t want to start dating behind Robin’s backs and have her hate us forever and ever. But you kept that thought to yourself.
The man in question decided that he had enough of the staring from the group of girls sitting on the beach, and waded his way over to you three, before walking out of the lake. “Can I help you three?”
Steve was literally dripping hotness off of his body. The sun backlit him, creating this holy look about him, and the water droplets slowly made their way down his chest and abs and down towards—You snapped your eyes back up to his face, where he was watching every single movement of your eyes, smirking slightly. It was fairly pornographic and would have you dragging Steve over to the car and fucking him senseless, but you’d settle for eye-fucking him instead since Robin was directly next to you, and so was Nancy.
“Just questioning Robin’s girl here.”
Steve’s eyes stayed trained on you and he raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, then why were all of you staring out at me huh?”
“Well, Harrington if you must know...”
“–I must Robin.”
“I’m just learning things. That’s all.” You tilted your head slightly, almost teasing him slightly. Your gaze was already enough to make anyone blush, but Steve Harrington wasn’t anybody. However, he immediately lost the shine of confidence at the thought of you, Robin, and Nancy talking about him.
“Learning what…exactly?”
You, alongside the other two girls, just shrugged, causing Steve to eye all three of you up and down, and head over to where Eddie was cooking up some lunch for you.
Sighing, you fully laid all the way down again and closed your eyes. “I think I’m just going to lie in the sun for a while and internalize every little thing the two of you just said to me.”
You didn’t hear as the two girls got up and left you alone. You also didn’t hear as someone else took his place next to you. You just drifted off into a light sleep, enjoying the warmth the sun was providing you so that you could just breathe for a moment and figure out everything that was going on inside your head.
First off, you liked Steve. And Steve liked you back. This was obvious before the girls told you, but the confirmation was a plus.
Second, Steve hadn’t mentioned ever going on another date, ever. You hadn’t even gone on a first one if you remembered correctly.
Third, You were unsure if Steve Harrington wanted to actually date you, or even kiss you. Sure, you rode his face like you were in one of those bull games in the rodeo bar, and he clearly seemed to enjoy it. But the only time he actually mentioned getting physical with you was either while it was happening, or if you brought it up first. Was he actually interested in you, or just being a gentleman?
This shit was fucking hard, that’s for sure.
“Hey.”
You hummed, letting Steve know you heard him.
“They’re going on a walk through the woods, wanna join?”
You shook your head, not wanting to get up from your spot on the towel.
Steve was silent for the next few moments. You assumed that he was staying on the beach with you since the others grabbed a couple things and started walking off into the woods.
“You’re not going?”
“Nope.”
You opened one eye and looked over at the boy next to you. He was looking right at you–a small smile flashed across his face. He was nervous. “I-I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah…Steve, it is.”
“Good.” He hummed and smiled at you.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Hawkins decided on having a Friday Night Graduation, and while at first, you were hesitant, you realized you’d rather have a graduation at sunset than have to wake up at the crack of dawn to watch kids you didn’t know walk across a stage.
You had gotten slightly dressed up, wearing a summery dress that didn’t leave you overheating, but was one step above casual. Sitting in between Steve and Robin was definitely something to behold considering they wouldn’t stop whispering to you, pointing out their kids.
The Salutatorian was one of theirs—a Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, as you found out. His speech was beautiful and even made you tear up a bit, which meant nothing since the group you were sitting with was all crying alongside you.
Eventually, the graduates walked, and you watched your friends stand up and down, screaming and cheering for their kids each time one of them walked across the stage. You had learned all of them using a Quizlet, trying to make sure you didn’t mess up any names. So far, you had learned that Dustin Henderson was Steve’s favorite, with Max Mayfield being a close second. (from what you had heard, Max could easily be your favorite). Max was dating Lucas Sinclair, who was on the basketball team, which you found out Steve had been coaching for the past few years. Then, there was Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, and Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s brother. Mike was dating Elle Hopper, who was best friends with Max. But Elle’s Dad was getting married to Will’s Mom…
You repeated this little thing over and over in your head, trying to wrap your brain around what could have possibly connected all of these older teens to Robin since she and Steve didn’t even talk until high school, and Steve only dated Nancy in junior year and—Honestly, it was weird, considering you really couldn’t imagine twenty-three-year-olds hanging out with eighteen-year-olds, but you lost all your doubt when you saw how connected this group was—whatever had happened between them, bonded them for life.
Eventually, the caps got tossed, the principal said a few words, and they were all dismissed. The small group of you waited off to the side, knowing that they were going to all talk to their parents first. Steve stood next to you, and placed a hand on your waist, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. “Tired yet?”
You laughed softly and shook your head, keeping your head straight ahead because if you turned, you were going to kiss him right on his stupid lips.
“No, but I am ready to start drinking again.”
This caused Steve to laugh slightly and straighten up, but his hand stayed on the small of your back until a gaggle of kids in green and white grad robes came running at you all.
You took a step back watching as hugs and congratulations were thrown out at all of them. It was heartwarming, truly, to see such a family in action. You swore you saw, out of the corner of your eye, Steve and Dustin having a lightsaber battle at one point.
Robin took your hand and dragged you over to the curly-headed one. “Y/n, this is Dustin, Dustin, Y/n. The Roommate.”
All hell broke loose when Robin announced your title. The children’s heads all snapped towards you and they started to crowd you, which wouldn’t have been as intimidating if you had met them all before, or if they were shorter than you, which a bunch of them were not.
“You’re her Roommate?” “We’ve heard so much about you.” “Oh my god, we finally got to meet you?” “You’re a lot prettier in person.” “Where did you get that dress, it’s stunning.” “You came to watch us walk across a stage? That’s definitely a choice…” “I wouldn’t go to Indiana if I lived in a cool place like the city ” “It’s literally so nice to finally meet you.” “You’re like really pretty.” “How did you meet Robin?”
“Alright Alright! Let the woman breathe my god.” Steve yelled out to the group, as he took notice of your wide eyes. It’s not that you were nervous about meeting them, it’s just that the wave of questions was a tad bit overwhelming and unexpected.
“Alright.” Steve sighed and looked at you. “Ready?”
You furrowed your brows. “For?”
“Well.” Steve started to point to each child as if he was giving you a speedrun introduction. “That’s Dustin, That’s Max and Lucas. Will, Mike, And that’s Elle. Am I missing anyone?”
The group managed to give Steve a full unison moment of attitude.
“You still look like such a mom Harrington.” You laughed a bit when he put his hands back on his hips.
“God I knew I’d like you,” Max spoke up, causing you to smile at her.
“It’s really nice to meet all of you!”
They all responded back, at the same time, and then scattered. Whatever initial excitement was there had finally dispersed, meaning you weren’t the center of attention, and you could breathe again. Well, except for one kid, that came up to you.
“It’s nice to finally meet you. Robin doesn’t shut up about you when she’s home.”
“Good things I hope?”
Dustin nodded, and suspiciously eyed how close you and Steve were standing. “All good things. But I’m surprised at the fact that you came to Indiana.”
You shrugged. “Robin asked, so I came. Pretty easy decision. Best friends and all that.”
“So, are you going to be at Steve’s later?”
“What’s with the interrogation Henderson.” Steve raised his eyebrows.
“I’m just asking her questions! She’s new! I can’t just..let her into the group—”
Steve scoffed, “As if you are the final decision maker in that?”
“Uh, yeah. I am.”
“Sorry Dipshit. The older half really like her, so she’s in.”
“The rest of us have to vet her and you know it. Sure, Robin wouldn’t be friends with her if she sucked, but the rest of us don’t know her—”
Dustin eyed you up and down again. “I’ll allow it, but I still need further proof.”
“Don’t be a dick, Dustin.” Max cut in. “She’s pretty, she clearly can put up with Steve’s shit since she’s willing to stand next to him this long. Why can’t there be another girl in the group?”
Dustin’s mouth floundered for a moment before he settled on his answer. “It’s not that I don’t like her. I just….”
“Dustin.” You smiled at him. “I’m not asking to infiltrate. I get it. This is clearly a tightly bonded family, and I’m not trying to just waltz in here and take a spot. But let me give you my qualifications and you can mull it over, yeah?”
This amused Steve. Somehow, you had managed to entertain Dustin, and still manage to deescalate whatever the kid was thinking about. Dustin agreed to your terms and waited to hear what you had to say.
“First off, unlike Robin, I have a license. I don’t own a car but I live in like the major city of major cities, so I don’t exactly need one. But I can drive. Second. I am not a current permanent addition to the group, at least presence-wise. I am like a fun aunt who will let you stay in the city with her when you want to get out of Hawkins, and I only show up at family functions to spice it up a bit. Third, I have traveled to several different countries in the past two years, which means I can and will bring you back goodies from other countries. Fourth, I know how to party correctly, which means I am at a good time, and I will provide references if you need them. Fifth, and finally. I am over twenty-one, which means, I can and will buy you things that you can’t buy yet. This includes weed from a major city where it is in fact better than the stuff you get here.”
Dustin was taking all of this in, slightly bewildered by the fact that you literally just listed out your qualifications.
“Oh. And a sixth one, thrown in for free, I can commit to a bit Henderson.” You winked at him before walking over to where Robin had been talking to Will about something.
You felt Steve’s eyes on you but didn’t turn around, instead basking in the glory of dropping your over qualifications to win Dustin Henderson’s approval. You integrated yourself into her conversation with Will, enjoying the setting sun in the background. Tonight was going to be a good one, especially since you had decided that tonight was the night you wanted to talk to Steve about whatever was going on between the two of you, especially after everything that happened this morning.
______________________________________________________________________________
The kids managed to convince Steve to let them throw a graduation party at his apartment. Now this usually wouldn’t be such a big deal, but considering that they all could drink and party now, the space almost felt a bit too small. Especially since they invited some of their other friends that you had not yet met. Which is how you ended up sitting on the arm of the couch, watching all of the kids interact with each other.
“Hey.”
You looked over and smiled once you realized who it was. “Hey.”
“Wanna, uh–go into the kitchen with me for a second?”
You nodded and got up, following him past the decently sized group of people, and into the kitchen. It was not a spacious kitchen by any means, but there was a noticeably smaller amount of people, so it felt a million times better. You could breathe.
Luckily for you, you had been drinking since before noon, and it was well on its way to being one am. The true sign of a lady is how well she day drinks. You were on the balance of buzzed and tipsy, toeing the line with perfect grace. This gave you the confidence to feel a bit better about the fact that you were someone who was extremely touchy, which Steve clearly didn’t mind. Your hand had made its way to his chest, and you were gently tracing shapes.
“What’s up, Steve.”
“I–uh.”
You watched as his eyes flitted up to where the rest of the group was in his living room. He was silent for a few moments, which gave you time to really look over his face, and enjoy just how gorgeous he was. The curve of his lips. The slightly blush he always carried on his cheeks. The hazelnut color of his eyes. All while you were patiently waiting for him to sort through the words in his head.
“I’m really glad you came to Hawkins.”
“Me too.” You smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes once or twice for a bit of flirtatious emphasis.
“Because I had a really really good time in the city with you.”
You nodded, prompting him to continue talking.
This caused Steve’s smile to grow, with what you were sure were tints of blush across his cheeks.
“And I—well, I don’t exactly know what to do beyond this because you live in the city and I live here. And Robin might actually kill me if I ask you out, or if she found out the other things we started to get up to.” Steve was talking as quietly as he could, not keen on Robin finding out the compromising positions you had been in when Steve was in New York. “I know she has probably already said something to you but…I don't know. How do you feel about it because–”
For the first time in over a month, you were able to actually kiss him, instead of just dreaming about his lips, his mint chapstick, the way his hands felt around your waist. You had placed your beverage down on the counter and cupped his cheeks with your hands, basically pulling his lips to yours.
That warmth from before came crawling up your spine and filled your body with light. Fuck, you wanted to feel this for as long as you possibly could. Enjoying Steve.
But eventually, your proverbial luck would run out, since Robin cleared her throat from the doorway. She wasn’t exactly staring at either of you, but you couldn’t see her face since you covered your mouth with one of your hands, and wrapped the other arm around your stomach, looking away from her, losing all contact with Steve. Steve had quickly pulled one of his hands away, the other one still on your waist. You weren’t sure if Robin could see that one since your body was blocking it. Steve’s thumb ran up and down your hip, trying to calm you down.
He could feel your heartbeat racing. How embarrassing was that?
Even the calming sensation of Steve’s thumb rubbing up and down on your hip simply could not bring your heart rate down to a nice even 120/80. You’re pretty sure your Apple watch just pinged you about an increased heart rate.
The only worse thing was that Robin had just walked in on you kissing her best friend.
Her two supposed best friends kissed each other.
“I–uh–I was going to ask you where Y/n went…but um, I can see you’re both a bit busy…” The sound of your name made you wince.
Robin’s voice was strained, and she was trying to keep whatever emotions she was feeling at bay. Technically she had said this was fine, but she had never had to witness it or deal with it, in person before.
“Robin–”
“No, guys, seriously stop.” Robin took a breath. You could tell this was a bit weird for her, but she managed a brave face for the moment. “We talked about it. I’m okay with it. It’s just…It’s going to take me a second to get used to actually seeing it. Honestly, I just—I really wasn’t expecting to find you guys making out in the kitchen
“Are you sure?” You finally turned your head and looked at her, more nervous about how she would react to this than anything else in your life.
Robin smiled at you and nodded. “Really, actually, I’m fine. I am. I just, I’m going to go, um…I’ll be out back with Eddie if you need me.” She quickly left the room, leaving you and Steve alone again, to let out the breath both of you were holding.
“I thought that was going to head in a way worse direction if I’m being so honest with you.” You muttered, squeezing Steve’s arm.
“You’re telling me. I almost fucking melted when she first came in.”
This caused you to let out a brief laugh.
Steve sighed and rubbed his thumb up and down on your hip again. “I think she needs time getting used to it. We all do.”
After another moment of staring at one another, the feeling of contentment made your heart swell, shoving some bravery forward and out your mouth.
“I like you a lot, Steve.”
He smiled. “M-Me too.”
“Oh, so you agree? You like you a lot? That’s just what a girl wants to hear, damn.”
Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No no, I meant I Like you a lot, not that I like me a lot—actually—”
“Steve.” You cut him off, smiling at him. “I was teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Steve couldn’t fight the smile growing on his face harder if he tried. You watched it slowly reach across his eyes and he shook his head. “I mean it though–a lot. I don’t think that even covers it.”
You placed your hand on his arm and squeezed it. “Don’t flatter me too much or my ego will inflate like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters—”
“WHO JUST SAID GHOSTBUSTERS.”
Dustin popped into the kitchen, looking around for the culprit. His eyes landed on you two and his eyebrows raised. “Robin’s friend Steve? Really? That’s the girl you’ve been–”
“Dustin. Enough.” Steve tensed up, cutting off the younger kid.
“No no no.” You moved out of Steve’s arms and towards Dustin. “Please, Dustin. Tell me more, the girl Steve, what exactly.”
“Dustin I swear to god—”
You looked over your shoulder at Steve and winked at him, before placing a hand on Dustin’s arm in a very similar way to how you had just touched Steve’s arm. Now, you weren’t a manipulative person by any means. But men were easy to get information out of if you just knew how.
You felt Steve’s eyes burning into you, watching your every move.
“Dustin, do you have a girlfriend?”
He looked at you weirdly but nodded. “Yeah. What does Suzie have to do with this?”
“How do you feel about her?”
Dustin’s shoulders detensed, and he tilted his head slightly. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just tell me about her.”
Dustin, who basically never talked about Suzie anymore since he didn’t want to annoy the group, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. “Well! She’s the perfect woman. Smart, kind, snarky, bossy, gorgeous—hotter than anyone ever—sorry. But she means the world to me—.”
You nodded along, listening to everything he had to say about Suzie, even popping in with clarifying questions, or asking how they met.
“Wow, that’s a long time to be dating someone so young.”
Dustin nodded and shrugged. “When you know you know.”
Steve was just watching you, completely fascinated. There were things Dustin was telling you that he had never even heard before. But he knew you were up to something, he just couldn’t figure out what you were doing.
You nodded and cast a quick glance back to Steve, who met your eyes. “That’s true.”
Steve almost blushed at the way you looked at him when you said that, making your eyes soften for a moment. When you know you know.
“Why did you want to know about Suzie?”
“I saw you texting her earlier. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here for your graduation…”
Dustin shrugged. “She’s coming up next week for about a month so I’d rather have her for a whole month than just a weekend. Besides, we’re both going to the same college so…I’d rather focus on what we do have than not, you know.”
“You are very wise for a high school graduate Dustin.”
Dustin shrugged. “Well, I’ve been saying that for years but now I have the degree to back it up….Alright, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ve accepted your application into the group here.”
“Oh thank you, I was a bit worried there.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Please, you passed the second I heard the word Ghostbusters come outta your mouth.”
This made you smile. “Dustin, one last question, and then I’ll let you go back to your friends—”
“Actually, I’d much rather be in here since you seem a lot cooler than half of the people in there.”
“I appreciate that Dustin thank you. But, my question is. Does Steve look at his phone like that? The way you were describing Suzie…”
Dustin scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen him so glued to a screen before–”
“Dustin...”
You shushed Steve. “Let the man continue Harington, God.”
Dustin preened up a little bit at the sound of being called a man, making him continue. “He’s like…I’ve actually never seen him like this before. He’s always checking his phone but he’s smiling at it and laughing at things…oh…You’re good.”
You squeezed his arm before letting go. “Dustin, I need you to know that I am actually very interested in your relationship with this girl and I do hope I get to hear more about Suzie, I really do. I also appreciated the information you just gave me.”
“You’re the phone huh.”
“You’re a Genius Henderson.” Steve glared at him, definitely trying to conceal the embarrassment he was feeling.
“So Dustin, tell me more about the way he’s been acting.”
“Henderson if you don’t leave the kitchen right now–”
Dustin took a step away from you. “I like you, a lot, y/n. But I think I’ve done enough damage for Stevie over there, so I’ll leave you alone.”
You nodded and gave him a little wave as he took off back into the living room. You turned around on the spot, facing Harrington, who was all but embarrassed at Dustin exposing him.
“You smile at your phone when I text you huh?”
“Oh shut up, you knew that already.”
“It’s nice to get confirmation.” Your hands clasped behind your back, and Steve took the opportunity to walk over to you and place a hand under your chin.
Your breath? Left the fucking building, maybe even the whole state of Indiana.
“Confirmation that I liked you?”
He was lifting your chin up with just one knuckle, just enough that your head tilted up to look at him.
“I feel like what we did in the bathroom was confirmation enough.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “And if not, then kissing you a few minutes ago should’ve been.”
You hummed, eyes closing, expecting his lips over yours.
“You just like to tease me, huh.”
“Steve.” You whined softly, leaning forward a bit, trying to capture his lips in yours. But he just shifted back slightly, not letting your lips do anything more than ghost over yours.
“I like to tease too, ya know.” He muttered, his other hand sliding back onto your waist, pulling your body against his.
You hummed, waiting for him to make his move, giving up the little control you had moments before since the prize was a kiss.
But no kiss came. Steve Harrington dropped his hands from your waist and chin, and stepped back, grabbing his beer off of the counter and winking at you. “If it’s a game you want sweetheart, I can play it too.”
You groaned and watched as he backed out of the room, leaving you once again up against a counter and completely wound up.
A few hours later, you had found yourself rolling a joint for the older group, basically giving Eddie a masterclass in the art. He was extremely doubtful about the fact that your weed would be better than his, but when he took his first hit, Eddie Munson coughed.
The small group of you—Jonathan, Robin, Eddie, and Steve—all stared at him with wide eyes. You gently took the joint from his hand took a hit from it, and offered it to your right to Steve, who took a smaller hit than you. Since he had smoked with you before, he didn’t cough, much to Eddie’s dismay.
Jonathan gratefully took it next, muttering something about Cali Weed, which you didn’t fully catch. Eddie turned to you, eyes extremely red. “Jesus Christ Y/n. What the fuck is that?”
You exhaled slowly, impressing everyone, but Robin, with the amount of smoke in your lungs. “I say this with so much love in my heart Eddie—It’s good weed.”
Eddie went to scoff but started coughing again, causing you to smile a bit. You felt the first hit in your face, always. No matter how many times, your face was always the first. It felt slightly buzzy, like a current was pulsing through your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You leaned against Steve, watching as the joint made its rounds.
“Nancy, not a big smoker?”
Jonathan shook his head, exhaling the smoke over his shoulder to not blow it all in your face. “Can hold her liquor better than any of us though.”
“I buy it.” You smiled, resting your head against Steve’s shoulder.
Robin stuck her tongue out at you from across the circle before taking the joint and taking her own hit.
“So Y/n.”
You hummed and darted your eyes towards Eddie.
“You told Henderson that you’ve been to many different countries, like where?”
“I don't think that would make sense even if I wasn’t slightly high and slightly intoxicated.” You laughed and shook your head. ”But, uh, I don’t know. I’ve been a lot of places. Do you want me to just start listing them until you find one you like? Like those little Rolodex things old ladies have?”
Eddie nodded, taking the joint from Robin and taking another hit, this time not coughing.
You sighed and yawned a little bit, taking the joint when it was offered to you. Instead of taking a puff, you passed it on.
“Alright so, uh, let's see. I’ve been to about twenty states, and that includes Alaska. I’ve been to Canada a bunch. I have been to the Caribbean, so a bunch of those bad boys. Where else…”
“Serbia.” Robin listed for you, causing you to nod against Steve’s shoulder.
“Serbia, Croatia, Montenegro, all three of which are gorgeous by the way. Which then takes me to Europe so uh those countries, plus obviously England, and Ireland, both Republic of and Northern. Then, let's see, France…”
“France was a good one for you.”
You nodded. “Paris was good for me in many ways.” You made suggestive eyebrows at Robin who then burst into laughter.
“Then tell us about it.”
For some reason, you were starting to feel as if Eddie wasn’t your biggest fan. Now normally, if a man didn’t like you, you couldn’t find even a singular fuck to give, but this was bugging you. Maybe because he was so close with Robin.
“Well.” your gaze hardened a bit as you looked at him. “I think I managed to spend a total of sixteen hours in the Louvre during my entire week in Paris. I spent another day seeing the rest of the Musees that I wanted to see, and then I did the rest of the touristy things the rest of the time.”
“What about the Nightlife?”
“What about it?”
“Tell us about it.”
“Eddie…” Steve warned, feeling you tense up as Eddie continued to poke and prod at you. His words weren’t sharp, they weren’t knives. But they felt like tiny little shoves across your chest.
“Steve, it’s fine.” You muttered.
“If you must know, France has good nightlife, but if you want to party, you go to Spain. If you want exclusive yet fun clubs, you go to Berlin. Anyone who’s traveled outside the continental US could tell you that.” Your jaw set, but the smile on your face was a bit devilish. “But Eddie, dear, what I get up to in foreign cities in terms of my sexuality is between me, my phone, Robin Buckley, and the whiteboard in our apartment.”
Steve gasped. “That’s what those tally marks are.”
Robin shook her head but then paused. “Well no, not...kinda I guess. But not exactly what you're thinking.”
“I slept on your couch. You dirty dirty women.” He grumbled, removing his hand from your thigh, except it was just to lean back a bit, not to move you away from him.
“We’re both extremely competitive when it comes down to the basics. Besides, Robin was the one who started it, she said that she used to tally how many swings and misses you would take at your old job.”
Steve hung his head and laughed, causing the rest of the group to laugh alongside him. “Did she tell you what that job even was?”
“Oh Scoops? Absolutely. We cut up that stupid fucking costume one year for her Halloween costume.”
“That was you!?!”
You nodded and took a sip out of the drink you had brought out. “I’m also a costume designer.” You hummed. “Multi-hyphenate.”
That joke was meant for Jonathan since it caused him to cough on the air in his lungs. “Resume building 101.”
You mock cheers’d to that and rested back against Steve’s side, his hand moving back to your thigh.
Eventually, it was just you, Robin, Eddie, and Steve left, sitting on the porch, enjoying the view of the stars. You had forgotten how stunning they could be since you had basically lived within the city for the past few years, not really going out to places where you could see the sky. It was just marvelous to you.
Robin and Eddie stood up to go, meaning you also had to go. But Robin just kissed your head and whispered in your ear before you could stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nodded, smiling at her and taking her hand in yours. “I love you, Robin Buckley. Marry me.”
This caused Robin to burst out in laughter, and she nodded at you. “It’s a date babe.” She said her goodbyes to Steve and left with Eddie who was your ride home.
The two of you sat together, with you listening as Steve told you about someone, the constellations that he knew, with you lying on his lap, while he pointed out the stars.
“And that one is Orion’s belt. It’s probably the easiest to spot since it’s literally just three stars in a row.” He whispered, not wanting to break the silence the two of you had created.
You hummed. “That’s the hunter right?”
Steve shrugged. “You probably know better than I do.”
You managed to sit up and face him, lips seconds away from him. “And what would make you say that?”
He shrugged again, no longer looking up at the stars in the sky, but rather at the stars in your eyes.
Your eyes flitted to his lips quickly, silently asking for permission, which he answered by placing them against yours. Your body exploded like the sun, radiating the peace you had felt all those months ago at the cafe, and then again in the kitchen. Neither of you moved, just sitting together like two lovers would, slowly kissing one another under the universe.
Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulled away, enjoying the sound you let out as he did so. You tilted your head slightly, leaning forward to capture his lips again in yours, but he dodged your lips and kissed your neck instead. His lips found under your ear and kissed there. “Wanna head inside.” He muttered.
You hummed a positive response, unsure of how the two of you managed to make it inside and towards his bedroom. All you could focus on was the feeling on his lips, on yours, on your neck. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your hips, brushing up your thighs, tugging on your hair.
But you found yourself backed up against his bedroom door. His body pressed into yours, kissing your neck. “Fuck me, pretty girl.”
If that’s what he wanted you to do then who were you to deny him that much? Your head lulled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you just moaned in response. Your legs were on the ground, but the only thing really keeping you up against the door was Steve’s knee, which had made its place between your thighs.
Steve’s lips quickly found that sweet spot right above your collarbone and he gently sucked on it, causing your hips to roll forwards and your eyes to roll backward. You inhaled and arched your back the more he sucked on it, nipping it to add some color to his mark.
Steve felt as your hand snaked its way around his waist, your fingers cool against his skin. You tugged on his shirt, making him pull away slightly and rip his shirt off of his body.
Both of your hands went to his chest, so you could run your fingers across it, feeling as much of him as you could.
“Steve?” You muttered as he continued to kiss across your neck.
He paused and looked up at you.
“If you don’t do something in the next minute I’m locking you out of your room and fucking myself.”
He chuckled, pupils dilating at the thought of you touching yourself. But he shook the thoughts away and pulled you in for a kiss. “As you wish, Pretty girl.”
You hummed at his words, removing your shirt when he tapped on your back and pulled away from you for a moment.
For some power beyond man, you wore a really cute bra today. It wasn’t lingerie, but it made Steve drool all the same, causing him to groan at the sight. He didn’t stop there though, slowly pulling off your shorts and underwear causing him to kneel down in front of you. You sucked in a breath.
The sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you to eat you out was becoming your new favorite view.
He took one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, kissing up your thigh, slowly, looking up at you the whole time.
He was looking for any kind of hesitation but instead, all he received was a “Fuck, Steve, please.”
Steve smirked at you before licking up your thigh and gently nipping at it, causing your head to tilt against his bedroom door.
Steve took his time eating you out. He teased you relentlessly, eliciting every single sound from you he could possibly discover, muttering how much of a “pretty girl” you were into your “pretty little pussy”.
His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked over so gently. Your hips shifted forward, back on the edge of an orgasm, waiting not-so-patiently for him to make you cum all over his face.
“Come on baby girl let me taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.”
“P-Please Steve.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, one had in his hair, the other shoved against the door frame for support.
The heat in your gut was winding up tighter and tighter, causing you to roll your hips, riding his face. Every time your body shuddered, you’d hit Steve’s nose just right against your clit, making you gasp a little bit.
You moaned his name out, finding yourself closer and closer to the edge as he became more and more relentless fucking you with his tongue and with his words.
He curled his tongue in the right spot, causing your body to snap.
Not a single sound left your mouth as you cum on his tongue, back arching against the door, leg shaking as Steve held you up as you came. You felt his tongue working you through, and you could have sworn he moaned at the first taste of you.
Eventually, Steve slowly pulled away, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs. Your high was slowly coming back down and you muttered out a ‘holy fuck’, which caused Steve to nip at your thigh. Still sensitive, you let out a moan in response before yanking on Steve’s hair gently.
He chuckled, the breath from his lips causing you to squirm a bit. What a sight you must have been: almost completely naked, covered in hickeys and marks, with a man wrapped in between your legs, up against his bedroom door.
Steve slowly let your leg down, before kissing his way back up, enjoying every little sharp intake of breath, and every little moan that got caught in your throat. He made his way to your lips and it was dirty how much you enjoyed kissing him while he still had you all over his lips. It was obscene.
“How ya doing pretty girl.” He muttered, arms wrapped around your waist, lips on yours.
You were blissed out. Every time you thought about what you just experienced, your hips twitched a little bit, and all you could do was use your hands to shove Steve’s lips further into yours. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, and you happily obliged, opening up a bit more so he could taste all of you.
When he pulled away so you could breathe, he went back to kissing your neck. “I’ve been dreaming about your taste for fucking months.”
You swore you could orgasm a second time at that sentence alone.
Steve’s fingers melted into your skin, and you were sure that there were permanent sun spots where his hand was, forever indicating where his hands should always be.
You gently pulled on his hair once again, gaining his attention. “Steve.” You muttered, rubbing your thumb up and down on his neck.
He nodded and reached over, opening the door to his room.
The two of you slowly made your way to his bed, lips on lips, hands grabbing for skin, wanting more contact than what you had.
By the time you were on the bed, your skin had become a canvas and Steve was the artist, his lips leaving little marks scattered across your skin like constellations.
Steve pulled away for a moment, sitting back on his heels, causing you to sit up. You took over his task, slowly unbuckling his belt, looking up at him the entire time. Steve licked his lips and bit his bottom one at the sight of you.
You slowly pulled it out of the belt loops and then threw it somewhere in the room. Your fingers made their way up his thighs before they popped open the button of his jeans. You could see the strain on the jeans from how hard Steve was, pushing against the fabric.
He groaned as you unzipped them before leaning back on your hands, watching him take them off. You could have sworn you started to drool when you saw his cock.
His hands almost started you as he placed one beside your head, leaning down to kiss you.
You didn’t realize that he had been wearing his silver chain this entire time, until it brushed against your collarbone when his lips connected with yours. You felt as Steve slid his knee between your legs, and his other hand cupped your cheek.
“Steve I–” You muttered against his lips, but he cut you off by kissing you again.
After a moment, he pulled away, hovering above you. “What gorgeous.”
“Please.” You whispered, feeling antsy at the fact that you hadn’t felt him yet, that he was barely touching you.
He smiled slightly. “You have somewhere to be?” He joked, kissing the corner of your mouth.
You rolled your eyes. “What if I did.”
He kissed your collarbone. “By all means.”
The top of your chest, above the bra. “Leave then.”
You let out a shuddered breath at the feeling of his mouth above your chest and closed your eyes.
“No?” He licked up your neck and nipped at the bottom of your ear. “Come on baby girl, nothing more to say.”
“F-fuck.”
He chuckled and slid his hand down to the front of your bra, undoing it with one hand. “Opens from the front…someone was prepping.”
Your cheeks turned red and you shook your head. “N-no.”
He shrugged and took it off of you. “Doesn’t seem that way, sweetheart.”
Your nipples hardened at the cool air surrounding you both, and Steve put his hand on your waist, slowly sliding up your side until he could cup your tit in his hand, giving it a squeeze.
You moaned at the contact but kept your eyes on the scene in front of you. It would be criminal to not watch Steve take his sweet time with you.
He shifted again, making it so he was able to rest on top of you, and trace designs across your chest with his tongue. It flicked against one of your nipples which made your body jump up against his.
“Sensitive?”
“Shut the fuck up.” You muttered, one of your hands making its way to his shoulder and squeezing it tightly.
He rubbed his thumb over the other nipple, flicking it. His tongue went to work, finding out everything that made you feel good, that made you moan. Once Steve had worked you up, he switched his attention to your other tit, his lips kissing across the valley of your chest.
He was teasing you, watching every single movement of your body and while you wanted to shove him back down to clean up his mess, you couldn’t help it. You had never seen a sight so intoxicatingly hot. His chain dragged around with him, adding to the sensation of his mouth on your skin.
Somehow from barely moving, you felt like your body was on fire, it was too hot. You felt too good.
“Gonna take my sweet time with you, pretty girl.” He muttered, kissing back up your collarbone. “Gonna hear every single one of those pretty sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours. Yeah?”
All you could do was nod and close your eyes, trying not to orgasm right then and there.
He tsked and squeezed your waist. “I wanna hear it, baby. I want to hear you.”
“Yes–yes–please god yes.” Your answer poured out of you before you could even think about it. The only thing in your head was Steve Harrington. Steve’s hips, his ass, his arms, his chest, his lips, his hair, his chain, his stupid fucking smirk.
You felt him pull away for a moment, and you opened your eyes. He had gotten up and grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and tossing the wrapper somewhere. You watched as he slid it over his cock, which was already glistening with pre-cum, causing him to smirk.
“I make you excited or something, Harrington?”
He laughed as he made his way back over to the bed. “Something like that yeah.”
You leaned up slightly and captured his lips on your own, enjoying the moment of just his lips on yours.
He hummed and you felt him slowly guide himself to your entrance.
You’d never spent the whole night fucking someone, until now, and even then, you weren’t sure what you were doing was just fucking one another. Sure it started out like that, but it evolved into something more the second Steve Harrington took your hand in his and pushed into you for the first time, whispering everything he adored about you into your ear.
A sigh that could be categorized as relief left your mouth when he bottomed out, just letting the both of you get used to the feeling of one another.
He kissed your jaw before slowly pulling his hips back out.
You moaned into his ear as he started moving, your bodies moving in sync just like those cheesy books you had read told you.
Feeling good has never come so easy to you. The way Steve Harrington was kissing you, so tender, with sure care made you want to freeze the world so you could stay here forever, with him. Your moans match up to each thrust, each inhale from when he kisses the sensitive skin right above your collarbone.
The stars outside shined brighter for you, that’s what you would swear when telling your friends, that the universe quieted and the stars multiplied so you could see all of them as Steve made love to you, whispered how much he adored you, how he couldn’t wait to kiss you the moment he saw you at the airport. How he wanted to see what you tasted like the moment he first met you.
It was overwhelming, only breathing in Steve, bodies picking up the pace as you simultaneously leaned over the line, ready to snap.
You begged him, you needed him. His name falling from your lips with every single movement he made.
His hand slid down your body and slowly started toying with your clit. “Come on pretty, let me feel you. I want to feel you. You’ve been so good for me, so fucking hot baby, let me feel you.”
It snapped. The coil in your stomach snapped and you came, walls clenching down on him. Your mind went blank and your vision was filled with millions of stars that had floated in through the window and hung in Steve Harrington’s eyes.
The feeling of you caused him to quickly follow you, hips thrusting into you, making you both ride one another’s orgasms. The sound of his breath, his moans, caused another wave to crash down on you. Your back arched, jaw quivering as your chest lost all of its air. The weight of his body kept you grounded but your mind was in the clouds.
That calmness you had experienced before settled into your chest. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. There was no insatiable hunger, no need to go again (at the moment), nothing of the sort. Just a need to become inseparable, to become one whole again from two halves.
And you could tell Steve felt the same from the way he kissed your cheek and lifted his head to look at you. You both felt it. The feeling as if this was right as if you were supposed to be here with one another, as if it was written in the stars, or read through some tea leaves—you were supposed to be falling in love with Steve Harrington.
You leaned up ever so slightly, saying everything you possibly could with your lips against his, with no words being spoken. There was no need for them anyway because you just knew Steve felt the same.
______________________________________________________________________________
You spent the next week, doing your best to split your time between your best friend, and your something new. Robin was actually doing quite well adjusting to the two of you since it felt like this had always been normal.
The night before you and Robin were set to leave, Steve had taken you out by Lover’s Lake again, remembering how much you loved hearing about the stars. It was breathtaking. Truly the sky felt so vast and so big and you were standing underneath all of that with someone you truly cared about.
The night didn’t end there.
The two of you melted into one another in the backseat of Steve’s car. Skin on Skin. Stars collide in your eyes. Hands digging deeper than skin into souls.
Yet after all of that, you were still too terrified to ask the question that had been on your mind since last Friday.
What Now?
“I had been, uh, thinking.”
Steve’s thumb was rubbing against your hip, bringing your focus back to him.
“And, uh, we have to…”
You nodded.
“Steve I–”
Steve shook his head. “Let me get through this, yeah?” He whispered, almost like he was scared to even hear his own voice.
“I-I have been searching for a way out of Hawkins for a while now. I love my friends, but now that the kids have graduated and-and are moving away, I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
You brushed your hand against his cheek as a sign of comfort, not saying anything.
“I don’t want you to think I’m latching onto you because you could get me out of here. I need you to know that’s not—I have never felt more sure about anything—anyone in my entire life than I feel about you. It sounds fucking crazy to say out loud, but I swear your touch literally brings my heart rate down. Hearing your laugh is like a fucking drug and, and, I want to spend as long as I can staring into your eyes, memorizing every single centimeter of your body, watching you as you stare up at the stars. I w-want that. I want it so badly. It sounds delusional since we’ve barely spent a full week's worth of time together. But speaking it out into the universe has fucked me over so much in the past. Anytime I’d utter any true want out loud, it’d, uh, it’d disappear. But I can’t—I think I’d go batshit if I couldn’t kiss you every day. What–what I’m trying to say is that—”
You gently placed your lips on his lips, not having the words in the English language to describe the field of flowers blooming in your chest under the sunshine that was Steve Harrington.
Steve smiled and pulled away after a moment.
“You were gonna launch into the sky with the way your mouth was running.”
Steve nervously laughed and nodded, closing his eyes.
“I just don’t want you to think that I’m into you because you could be a way out of Hawkins. I need you to know that I’m seriously falling for you and I-I couldn’t be more in awe of you every time I look at you.”
Your eyes started to water and you shoved his chest. “Fuck Steve. That was…That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.” You muttered, burying your face in his neck, to hide the fact that this man just made you so emotional using minimal words.
The two of you sat there, enjoying the company of one another, whispering sweet everythings in each other’s ears. It was everything to you. His hands on your body, his eyes locked onto yours. The thought of having to leave the next morning had you terrified since neither of you really had any idea how you were going to make this work, but you’d be fucking damned if you weren’t going to try. Steve was worth it to you. He was worth everything.
And suddenly, because of Steve Harrington, you started to believe that you were worth everything too.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve Harrington fanfiction#steve Harrington oneshot#steve harrington angst#stranger things angst#x reader#steve stranger things#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington x reader one shot#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x reader angst#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington fanfiction#Steve harrington angst#Steve Harrington angst#Steve Harrington one shot#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n#steve harrington x y/n angst
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When MC has a Cast
A small sequel to the prompt “When MC gets pushed off the stairs”. After that fiasco with those bullies, this now focuses on the short shenanigans that come with the brothers trying to take care of you after you sprained your ankle. However, not all of them are very knowledgeable when it comes to human health care.
if you haven't read the first part, please do! As there are some parts that is a reference from it (though it doesn’t dwell too heavy on it so it can be read on its own)
Lucifer
If he was already overbearing towards his brothers, then it’s so much more towards you now that you’re hurt. He asked for less work for the time being so he can take care of you after school, a request that Diavolo is happy to grant. Lucifer knows he wouldn’t mind, especially when he says it’s part of his duties to care for the exchange student, an excuse that the royals could see through. Though everyone knows how much he truly cared about you.
He has the power to transform the house into something more handicap friendly for you. Ramps on elevated areas around the house, adhesive stickers in the bathroom so you don’t slip, handles by the walls in case you need it while walking. He was this close to buying you an expensive wheelchair from the human realm that he found online, you had to stop him from doing so since you wouldn’t need it when you’re better.
Lucifer has an hourly alarm on his phone that reminds him to check up on you. No matter what he was doing during the day, he’ll stop and take out his D.D.D. to call you. He asks if you’re feeling any better and if you’re taking any pain medication or prescription pills as needed. He hates how he has to rely on Solomon when it comes to your medicine since they’re only obtained in the human realm, so Lucifer decided to take better care of you instead to make up for the lack of human knowledge.
If you ever said you needed something, whether it would be a snack that can only be bought outside or extra pillows to cushion your leg, Lucifer will definitely make it happen. If not him, then he’s asking Mammon or any brother available to attend to your needs regardless if it’s something for your recovery or not.
“They miss that favorite drink they usually have after school so I need you to go get it before coming home.” Lucifer’s tone is commanding, and if it weren’t for the fact that it was for you then the brothers would’ve made a fuss about his attitude. “I know it’s four blocks away, but that’s what they want. See to it that you come home with it.” He leaves no room for negotiation when he abruptly ends the call, expecting his brothers to come home with your drink.
When you’re finally out of that cast, Lucifer still refuses to let you go up and down the stairs alone. As if you were no longer capable of doing so without supervision. He makes sure you’re always holding onto the rails and that the stairways are always clear so that you don’t trip. You don’t see it, but he’s been more vigilant around you just in case there are more students he needs to keep an eye out for.
Mammon
Knowing that leaving you for just a few minutes already got you in this mess, Mammon decided to be glued to you this time. It’s almost difficult to pry him away from you, and he’s miserable every time he’s separated that he’ll do whatever it takes to run back to your room. To him, he thinks that something bad might just happen to you again if he lays his eyes off you for a second. Sometimes you wake up to a three-eyed crow stationed by your window like a little guard.
Chores and assignments are done in haste, the quality is questionable but it’s honest work. Once he tried to just rush his household chores but due to how poorly done it was, he was separated from you again in order to finish it properly. Now he tries being quick about it but still somewhat passable to standards. The only thing in his mind is how he gets to hang out in your room after this was all done.
Dishes and cutlery placed on the table where others had more spoons than the rest, the trash bags looked like they were just chucked into the garbage can outside, some clothes wasn’t sorted that Asmo got frustrated when he found his new shirt in Beel’s room where it was mistaken for a rag… Lucifer decided to assign chores that Mammon can take to your room, like laundry folding, to ease his brother’s nerves and lessen the stress he experiences on the daily.
Mammon often steals stuff from the other brothers if he thinks it’s something that could bring you comfort. Asmo’s scent diffuser, Belphie’s blanket, even Lucifer’s mini record player to help you sleep. They would initially get mad, though they soon see a pile of all their stuff in your room, with you resting so soundly in the middle of it like it’s a nest. As annoying as it was to have their belongings stolen, the brothers let it slide for now.
“Can’t help it aight?! My hands are feelin’ extra grabby these days.” He says as he fluffs one of Beel’s burger-shaped pillows before placing it by your back for more support. Mammon then plops down by your side with a huff, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. “That’s why ya gotta get better soon, ya hear me?”
He’s the one that refuses to let you walk around the house. Even if his brothers are there to supervise you, he claims that he’s your first demon so they should listen to him instead! Though it takes a little pout and maybe some puppy eyes from you to make Mammon yield.
Levi
At first Levi was a little agitated since taking care of you meant less time in his room. He always invited you there to hang out, but now with your cast it meant that he needs to adjust and relocate. It’s a small sacrifice if it means he gets to be with you. He’ll just switch base of operations.
Since he spends more time at home in the first place, he’s the one in charge of watching over you while everyone else is at RAD. Being a shut-in has its perks because it means he gets to hang out with you more, though it does a number on his nerves whenever he has to take care of you because he’s afraid he might make your condition worse somehow just by being next to you.
Lucifer already told him what he needs to do. Give you some medication at certain hours, assist if you need to walk or use the bathroom, and make sure you’re comfortable. It’s quite simple. They can’t risk stressing your injuries more, though that stress seems to be transmitting to Levi instead. “Hgnn… getting medication is like a fetch quest a-and assisting is like an escort mission… j-just like in the game.” Is what Levi mumbles to try and hype himself up by associating his tasks with something he loves.
Levi gets jumpy whenever you would walk, acting like you’d get hurt if you took a step with your bad leg. He’s good at keeping an eye out for you whenever you walk around the house because of his anxieties, and giving him bits of praise for taking care of you would usually do the trick of alleviating that. Eventually, he’s calmer when attending to your needs over the next few days.
He stayed in your room more often and he started gradually moving his stuff there so he wouldn’t go upstairs too often to get something in his room. His consoles, mangas, and games are sitting idly by in the corner of your bedroom so that there’s at least something you both could do instead of laying around. Even when you sleep, Levi is still playing games by your side but with a headset or a lower volume so you wouldn’t wake up.
The brothers eventually noticed how more and more of Levi’s things are appearing in your room. The Akuzon boxes are waiting outside your door instead of his, the latest figurine he bought is displayed in your shelf than on his collection, and they find Levi putting some of his clothes in your closet instead of his. If this went on, they might find Henry 2.0 in your room. Everyone requested a week off from RAD to do some damage control like moving some of Levi’s stuff out.
Satan
Satan stayed by your side, letting you lie down on the soft bed while he read your favorite passages. He even includes stories about the protagonist recovering from a battle, as if trying to tell you that healing from what happened is nothing to be ashamed of. You shouldn’t feel bad for resting because you need it, and Satan will see to it that you’re fully recovered with no problems.
If you were up for it, he would teach you any of the lessons you’ve missed once he’s home from RAD. He doesn’t mind giving you some of his notes and even writes it in a simpler way just for you to understand easier, even highlighting some key points so you know where to focus or what’s important. Satan wouldn’t want you to lag behind in class when you finally get back to school, but he’s only going to teach you at a pace you’re comfortable with. Your usual tutoring sessions are shorter because he wants you to focus on recovering first.
He’s got his nose glued to the human anatomy books that tackles sprains and muscles, something that Solomon provided after a lot of pestering from the demon’s end. He reads about how to treat it and the duration it would take until you’re fully better. It’s also his way of relieving his anxieties when it comes to your ankle so he can convince himself that you’re no longer suffering.
If you ever let out a grunt for whatever reason, expect Satan to suddenly be by your side asking you if you’re experiencing any of the symptoms he’s somehow memorized in his head. He’s being cautious if you might’ve accidentally aggravated your wounds and require any necessary medical attention, so he would sit you down and bombard you with questions about your condition. A brother would often have to rescue you before Satan gets halfway with his queries.
“If I don’t know any of these, then how would I tell if you need some help? There’s power in knowledge, you know.” Satan says as he flips through the pages of the thick medical book on his lap. There’s this determined look on his face where he wants to make sure to cross out all the symptoms of any possible ailments. “Now, are you experiencing ‘explosive diarrhea’ by any chance?”
Satan is the one that makes sure that all his other brothers would be useful when it’s their turn to take care of you. He takes note of when you need your next medication, reminds them to refill your water bottles, and how they’d have to check on you for each minute if they had to. If any of them caused you problems, no matter how big or small, Satan would be ready to chase them down for doing a poor job as soon as they left your room.
Asmo
Asmo is treating you like an absolute damsel sometimes whenever he sees you limping around the house with your crutches. He also hates that you need to stay home for bedrest since, as he notes, you get to see him less during school days. He loves spending time with you as much as he loves staring at his reflection in the mirror.
Since you’re not around in school, Asmo is always ready to fill you in on the cheesiest gossip like he always does during lunch time or your after school walks. Now he goes straight to your room, placing his bag to the side before dramatically plopping down on your bed with more news. Weirdly enough, some of that news was about those girls that pushed you and about how they’re both fighting more recently. You even notice how big his smile is as the story progressively gets gruesome.
“Just because my darling is stuck here doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be updated to the latest scoop, right?” He says with a grin, showing you the latest tweets about the topic. “Don’t worry, you can always rely on me to give you the juiciest gossip.” This is his way of hanging out with you like how you both would at school. Whenever he wants to talk about something with you and remembers you’re not around yet, he gets a little lonely and he makes up for that feeling when he comes home.
Asmo would want to put his name on your cast once he learns that it’s something humans tend to do. It’s written all over with a pink glittery pen accompanied by little hearts on the side, maybe a little sheep doodle next to it too. The brothers were not happy to learn that he was the first one to write his name on your cast and then insisted on putting theirs next.
He insists on playing the role of ‘Nurse Asmo!’ whenever he’s trying to take care of you, complete with a play-pretend stethoscope for the role (Solomon gave it to him). Normally he wouldn’t come near someone who’s sick because he doesn’t want to catch whatever they have, that wouldn’t look so good on him. Luckily, yours isn’t contagious at all. Asmo would insist on feeding you and there’s the occasional teasing, but it’s all in good faith.
Asmo also makes a great alert system. You once almost tripped but managed to hold onto the desk, and that was enough to make Asmo let out a high-pitched scream as he was worried your ankle must’ve gotten worse, maybe it’s not healing at all if you almost fell. It alerted every brother in the house and you not only have to deal with a worried Asmo, but now six more anxious demons as well.
Beel
Beel feeds you foods high in nutrients. He’d even run to the stores to get you those sorts of foods if it meant you’ll heal in no time. Of course, he’s mindful of getting nutritious foods you actually like eating. He wants you to be both healthy and happy.
“Here, Solomon said milk helps with healthy bones.” Beel says while carrying an entire box filled with jugs of milk. Clearly he means well, but you have to explain to Beel how drinking and eating things high in calcium doesn’t magically heal your ankle (it’s also worse if you were lactose intolerant). He’s a little disappointed, but he’ll understand. Beel could either drink them or give them to Luke as ingredients for his baking.
Whenever Lucifer asks the brothers to run errands for you, whether it's something for your ankle or for your comfort, Beel is usually the first one to respond and he’s already out the door before any of the brothers could intervene. He likes hearing your gratitude when he does something for you, even if it meant he had to fly across Devildom to get you that ice cream dessert or just walk to purgatory hall to fetch something Luke made for you.
The brothers had to convince him that you wouldn’t shatter if he gave you a hug, but he wasn’t sure if he could. If the stairs already hurt you, what more for a demon like Beel who could bend metal like paper if he wanted to? He was too afraid at first to touch you, but you could see just how much he wanted to hold you. It takes only a few words and a pout from you to make the demon fold.
If Beel would have to bulldoze everything to clear a path for you then he would. In case there was a bunch of furniture or other things all across the floor, Beel would chuck them aside to make sure you won’t have a hard time walking or risk bumping your leg onto something. Though Lucifer reprimanded him for literally shoving every couch aside just to make room for you and then forgetting to put them back properly. The house wasn’t a pleasant sight to come home to at that time.
Beel’s next solution was to help you with that ankle was to carry you around so you could get to places. You’d be in his arms bridal style while he takes you to the dining room to eat with them. He would even stop eating from the mountain of food from his plate if you needed to stand up, Beel would attend to you right away and take you wherever you needed to go.
Belphie
Belphie is not the most reliable brother when it comes to taking care of you, not when his excessive drowsiness gets in the way of actually remembering what to do. He wouldn’t be able to wake up in time to give you your medication, or have enough energy to assist you whenever you needed to use the bathroom or just get up to walk. When you needed his help with something, at some point he forgot about your cast and told you that you can do it on your own. His older brothers definitely scolded him for that and the tasks were assigned to someone else instead.
The only role that was given to Belphie was something he can easily do, which is to make sure you’re comfortable and well-rested. None of them wants to see you walking around too much, even with your crutches, as they worry that something could happen while they’re away. They fear you might fall over and won’t be able to get back up, so Belphie is in charge of keeping you in bed and making sure you don’t move more than you need to.
Whenever you sleep next to Belphie, you always feel so refreshed and rested afterwards no matter how long or short you slept. It’s the demon’s doing, where he makes sure you have the sweetest dreams and get enough sleep so that you’re energized. Belphie thinks that getting more energized meant that your ankle would heal faster, so he’s always trying to drag you in for naps.
For the moments that he’s actually awake, he would be ‘fixing’ your bed so that it would be more comfortable to sleep in. There are three times more than the usual number of pillows on your bed, with extra comforters and better quality blankets. Each time he comes home, he’s fixing your bed and sometimes he adds pillows on it or replaces your old ones.
“I only have these because I was preparing a little fort for us back at school…” Belphie is a little quiet when he speaks, trying to pass it off as being too busy fluffing your pillows but in reality he just doesn’t like remembering what happened that day. “But since you’re stuck at home, it only makes sense I bring the fort over here right?”
The only thing that upsets Belphie at this situation for now is the fact he can’t lie down on your lap like he could every time he wants to use you as a pillow. Beel had to remind him that it might hurt your ankle if he laid his head on your thighs. Even though you tried to explain that it’s not necessarily true, the twins insist on making sure nothing would hinder your healing.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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Daddy's here, buddy (Lewis Hamilton)
A look into the Hamilton household now that they are a family of three
Note: english is not my first language. After a long time on hold (I know it has been a while, like, a really long time), I'm finally posting this one. I won't blame you if you have left, especially since it took me so long, but if you're still around, I hope you like this, anon!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions pregnancy, postpartum (difficulties walking, breastfeeding, soreness)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
As soon as Lewis was able, he flew straight back home, promising Toto and the rest of the team a detailed written debrief he worked on while he was on the plane.
When he landed, one of your friends was there to drive him straight home, "they are both doing well so the doctor discharged them this morning, they watched the race at home already with your mum", she smiled, noticing his antsyness, "we'll stop by my place so you can have a shower and change clothes, and then you'll get to meet him. I know I'm biased, and you'll be too, but he's the cutest little boy ever", she smiled, reassuring him that everything was well underway and that they were being careful with the baby's health.
"Carmen, can I have some water, please?", Lewis heard you call for his mother as he walked through the stairs that led the garage to the living area of the house, seeing the older woman pour the liquid into a mug and bringing it to you along with a straw.
"Hey, look who's here!", you smiled, handing the mug back to your mother in-law when you finished sipping from it.
Lewis walked closer to you, rubbing his mother's arm before he kissed the top of your head, taking a peek at the bundle in your arms. Baby Noah has been sleeping against your chest, pillowy lips agape without another care in the world, but he seemed to stir as he felt his father's presence in the room.
"Someone wants to meet daddy", you cooed as Lewis sat next to you on the sofa, arms expectantly held out as you transferred the baby to his arms.
Taking the baby wrapped up in the beige blanket and placing him on his chest, Lewis let one of his hands rest on his son's back to hold him close.
"Hey Noah", he whispered, looking up briefly to see his mother and wife smiling at them, "You were slightly early, weren't you? Daddy wasn't here when you came earthside, and I'm very sorry for it, but now we have all the time in the world", he whispered, softly touching his cheek and moving to stroke his head, feeling the soft baby hair.
Noah looked up at him as tears filled his eyes, "I couldn't wait to get home to you and mummy. I'm sure a lot of people want to meet you, I got told that much in the paddock", he smiled at the beautiful boy in his arms. "It's ok", Lewis whispered as the baby started getting fussy, opening his mouth and squinting his eyes closed as he cried loudly.
A quick look at the clock made you suddenly reach your arms out for your crying little boy, "he's hungry, it's just about time", you nudged, cradling him to you and kissing his forehead.
"I'm going to go, dears, leave you in your newborn bubble", Carmen smiled, "if you need anything, and I mean anything, call me, okay?", she checked, kissing your head and Lewis' before squeezing her grandson's little hand softly, "goodbye, baby boy, behave well for mummy and daddy, okay?".
After she saw herself out, you undid the top buttons of your shirt, unfastening the bra cover so you could feed your little boy, "That's it, good boy", you cooed, feeling your husband's eyes on you.
"We watched the race, congratulations on your podium", you smiled, your hand squeezing your husband's thigh once you balanced your baby on the feeding pillow.
"Thanks", he breathed out, "I still can't believe he's here, that he's ours", he shook his head, "we have our little boy here with us.
"Thank you for doing this for our family, I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner", he expressed, kissing your lips softly as Noah whined, "daddy can't kiss mummy, now? Oh, this is going to be interesting!".
.
"Am I doing this right? I think I am", your heard your husband say to your son as you started to wake up, "looks secured enough. Hopefully we won't have any explosions and nothing comes out of here".
Your hissing while trying to pull yourself up announced you were awake as your husband turned his torso slightly to face you, "mummy is awake, little love", he beamed, finishing popping the buttons on your son's clothes so he was comfortable.
By the time you found a way to pull yourself up and against the headboard, Lewis was sitting next to you, ready to pass Noah into your arms so you could feed him, "are you still feeling sore?", he asked, kissing your cheek.
"It's not as bad as yesterday", you assured him while you moved your boob so Noah could latch, ignoring the sting as his lips met your sensitive skin, "my back feels fine, but moving my legs might be tricky still", you offered.
"The midwife said that would be expected, so we'll just keep an eye out for anything serious, yes?", your husband said as you took the opportunity to rest your body against his naked chest, his arm going around your shoulders and softly tracing shapes on your bare skin.
"Can you burp him while I use the bathroom?", you asked as Lewis as he got up, burping him while standing up as you slowly got up as well, waddling to the en suite bathroom.
"Are you going to sleep now, little one?", he cooed, rocking him to sleep once all of the air trapped in his tummy got out, "you have a clean nappy, full tummy, and daddy needs to go and make sure mummy is okay", he chuckled, "with time, you'll see it takes her a while until she asks for help even though she's usually been needing it for way longer".
"Lew?", you called from the bathroom, "yes, darling?", he called back as he knocked on the door softly, asking for your permission to look inside, "I need to have a shower, but I don't trust my legs to keep me up, and sitting on the floor is not a good idea so, like - do we even have a stool I can sit on? -, I need something to support myself on", you asked.
"Noah is asleep, I can leave him here, in the middle of our bed, keep the door open and help you with your shower if that's okay", Lewis offered, "if I look around, I might find something, but I'm not sure we own a stool that can be put in water".
Weighing your options, you waddled back to your boys, kissing Noah's forehead and looking up at Lewis, "you don't mind helping?", you wondered.
Lewis placed Noah on the bed, making sure he was in an angle where you could see him from the bathroom, "c'mon, shower time, darling", he soflty nudged.
He turned on the warm water as you undressed yourself, disposing the underwear safely in the bathroom bin and walking into the shower compartment, thankful that Lewis insisted you needed a wide and ample space for it as it now perfectly accommodated the two of you once he had no clothes on either.
"Is the temperature good?", he asked and you nodded. Your body didn't feel wrong to you, just new, and Lewis seemed to be on the same page, tracing your hips and tummy softly while you wet your hair.
By now, the routine was so engraved in your lives that Lewis knew which steps followed which, only stopping when you needed to support yourself on him, to steal a few kisses or take a peek of Noah.
"Now he's sleeping well", you muttered chuckling as you wrapped a towell around your body, accepting Lewis' hand as he took you to the bedroom, "I have your underwear ready with those witch hazel round pads to help with the soreness", he added.
Helping you put them on along with the rest of your clothes he gathered from the drawers, your husband left a trail of kisses anywhere his mouth was close enough to your skin as he dressed you, "how about a nap? Noah surely kept us up so we could do with some sleep", he smiled, pulling you to lie against his chest while you cradled your son against your own chest.
.
"I know, baby, I know", you gulped, grabbing the silicone covers for your nipples while bouncing Noah on your bent legs, "mummy is trying to make this better for both of us, hopefully this works", you tried, fitting the piece and pulling Noah to you, encouraging him to suck.
The specialist had told you that using the covers would help you in days where the skin was extra sensitive, but its continuous use could mean that Noah would have to work harder to get his milk in, leaving him to get more tired and eat less, ultimately making him drop his weight.
"Hey, darling, I'm back", Lewis called from the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets as he stored away the things he bought from the shop.
"In the living room", you croaked out, holding the tears that threatened to fall as Noah seemed to drift off to sleep, "ah-ah, baby boy, you have to eat more, otherwise you won't grow", you groaned, taking off the silicone piece and biting your lip as his lips made contact with your skin directly.
The tears you worked on keep at bay fell down your cheeks as Lewis walked inside the living room, "hey, darling, I - what's the matter?", he checked you over, sitting next to you as you looked up at the ceiling.
"It hurts, a lot", you cried, "the only way it doesn't hurt is if I have these on, but with them he won't eat, so I have to compromise that", you allowed him to wipe your cheeks, "what a great mother I am, talking about compromise when I am feeding my baby", you scoffed at your own words.
"Hey, it's okay to talk about it if it hurts, darling. I'm so, so sorry, I wish I could do something to take that pain away", he comforted, kissing your cheeks as he pushed your bodies closing together.
"I will rub the cream afterwards, and we can try the silver nipple covers, we haven't done that yet", he suggested, his hands tracing shapes on your skin and squeezing the area, hoping to distract you from the pain you were feeling.
"I'll put him to sleep, okay? You can go and freshen up, darling", Lewis said as he bounced Noah on his arms after burping him, giving you time to use the bathroom and get a little bit of fresh air.
After splashing your face with water, you lightly dabbed the towell on your face before walking to the kitchen, opening the door that lead to the back garden and standing in the sun for a few minutes.
It was easy to get lost. A lot of people, specially the ones who were brutally honest about the whole experience, told you that much. Not out of spite or because they wanted to scare you, but rather because they cared enough to tell you about all of it. It was easy to lose yourself because all your focus was on your baby. Truth was, if you lost yourself, your baby would end yo suffering, too, so the whole situation required balance. Right now, the sun rays hitting your skin seemed to tip the scales to an even line.
"He's asleep already", you heads Lewis say, baby monitor on hand hand and another one with a cup of tea for you, "here, beautiful", he offered.
"Everytime I look at his face, I can't believe we made him. Such a perfect baby, how is he ours? But, it's also a lot sometimes", you breathed out, letting go of the guilt that was consuming you and recognising that you could love your family unconditionally and still admit that things could get hard. One didn't override the other.
"It's okay to admit that", Lewis said, pulling you to rest your back against his chest, "but we'll go, day by day, see what it brings us. You're doing so well, Y/N, you've been so strong for our family", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "will you let me take care of you now?", he wondered, guiding you back inside for a little pamper session.
.
"Your tummy really is troubling you, isn't it, little one?", Lewis said as Noah didn't seem to settle down, cries and whimpers leaving the little baby's mouth as he rocked him back and forth, "should we try those massages daddy was taught in the baby classes?".
Laying Noah on the changing table, Lewis unswaddled him before holding his legs, "first we go into frog mode", he chuckled, pulling the little legs into position before wiggling his hips and tummy, "the nurse in the baby classes said to wiggle a little, and apparently you are very flexible at this point, so you're like putty almost. It's a bit scary, but you seem to be doing better, right buddy?", he said, noticing he was passing some gas already and his whimpers had died down.
As you came out of your shower, you watched the replied on your son's face as the noise coming from his diaper confirmed the reason from his previous pains, "Oh, that was a big one!", you giggled, approaching your boys as Lewis grabbed a new diaper, "I'm on it!", he said, kissing your cheek and taking care of changing Noah.
"Do you want to go on a walk this afternoon?", you wondered, "I feel a little better ans I want to start being a little more active. Nothing crazy, but rather a nice way to leave the house", you suggested, being met with your husband's sparkly eyes, "of course, darling. I'll get him a new outfit, we're going to be matching!", he smiled as he noticed the colour pattern you were going for.
#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fluff#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fluff
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midas touch - rafe cameron x fashionista!reader
synopsis - based off this ask!
moodboard ⋆·˚ ༘ *
word count - 1.4k
warnings - oblivious!reader, bestfriend!rafe, flirting (from rafe), alcohol consumption, fluff, slow burn, not proofread!
a/n - i diverged a little from the request, but i hope you still enjoy! <3
you snap a mirror pic of your outfit for the day, putting up a caption, then uploading it to your instagram story. you fix any wrinkles from your outfit before heading outside to meet up with your friends.
“there’s our little influencer,” kelce says as you enter the cameron household. you smile and roll your eyes playfully, sitting down on the couch, “to be fair, I never thought my account was gonna get popular,” you shrug before continuing, “but it does feel nice knowing that people around the world like my outfits.” rafe comes through the back door, four beers in his hand. “we still waiting for top?” “yeah, should be on his way, though,” kelce replies as he puts an arm around your shoulder. rafe hands you a beer while you lean on kelce’s shoulder. you don’t miss the look rafe gives you. his gaze becoming sharp. you clear your throat as you open the can and take a swig.
as soon as topper arrives, the hangout officially begins. this was a tradition between you four, once a week you would hang out at each other’s houses.
this “tradition” started a long time ago. at first, it was just you and rafe. you remember how he defended you from your bullies, how he had been so selfless, despite everyone saying he was the opposite. you remember how his kind blue eyes would glance at you during homeroom, to make sure you were all right. you noticed how during lunch he would sit in close proximity to you, just in case anyone would try to be a bother.
you were shy when you asked him if he wanted to hang out with you outside of school for the first time. fingers fidgeting, voice soft and eyes looking down. you thought he was gonna laugh in your face, but when he said yes, you felt something spark in your heart.
rafe eventually became friends with topper and kelce, and the four of you clicked together like missing pieces in a puzzle. the summer after you graduated high school, you started a fashion account on instagram. posting various outfits, recommendations, and making get ready with me vlogs. you were hesitant, but the guys assured you that you had nothing to worry about. they were right, and everyone absolutely loves the content that you post.
after your account started blowing up, people from the obx found out and started following you. it made you slightly insecure at first, thinking they had been following you to poke fun at your content. but when you realized that you had started setting fashion trends across the island, that insecurity dissolved.
topper jumps off the roof into the cameron pool, splashing the three of you. “so stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head and smiling at him as he swims to the surface.
midnight struck, you were outside with a blanket wrapped around you. you all sat in a circle, eating takeout while gossiping — yes, gossiping, about the new family that moved into figure eight. it was the guys’ guilty pleasure, though they’d never admit it.
you scoffed at their endless conspiracies, deciding to just listen. you take a deep breath, crisp air hitting your nostrils. topper and kelce stand up, announcing that they’re going home. you, however, don’t want the night to end, so you ask rafe if you can stay over. thankfully, he says “yes, of course.”
both of you snuggle on the couch, rafe breathing the scent of your hair in as he not so sneakily peeps at your screen. you check your socials, and see that engagement is going up. rafe softly speaks, “how does this work?”
“hm? what do you mean?”
“do you get free stuff?”
“sometimes. but I mainly post things I already have,” you shrug.
rafe makes an ah sound before putting his chin on top of your head.
this felt…intimate. none of the other guys would be this physically close to you. you quickly brush those thoughts away, concluding that rafe is only this close to you because you’ve known him the longest. you put your phone down, leaning against rafe’s chest. this felt so natural for some reason. closing your eyes, you fall asleep, rafe loosely hugging your waist.
the next week, you were sunbathing in the sunny skies of saint-tropez. you had been invited to paris fashion week, and you had some free time after the event. however, you missed your friends, and you were texting them 24/7. you were replying to something topper said in the group chat, when someone approached you. good lord, he was attractive. he smiled at you, pearly whites adorning his face. you swore you could’ve heard church bells ring. “hey, mind if I set up my towel here?,” he asks, voice smooth and sultry.
“go ahead,” you move your sunglasses to the top of your head, taking a good look at him.
“i’m johnny,” he sticks his hand out.
you smile and say your name.
“are you from the states too?” he asks, quirking his head over to the side.
“yeah — north carolina,” you clear your throat, suddenly becoming nervous.
“oh cool, i’m from Illinois,” his eyes run up and down your body, and your cheeks grow red.
you two banter for a couple of minutes, before johnny bites his lip, as he asks for your number.
you smile and give it to him, he does seem like a nice guy after all.
the humidity of the outer banks is painful. turns out, when you came back, there had been a heatwave going on. to add onto that, the ac at your house broke down. so here you were, back at rafe’s, waiting until your cooling system gets fixed.
“how was your trip?” he asks, bringing out popsicles from the fridge and handing one out to you.
you beam at him, “absolutely amazing. I was freaking out over how many designers I met.”
“damn rafe, we don’t get one?” kelce says, laying down on the cold tile floor. “get one yourselves,” rafe gruffly replies.
topper and kelce glance at each other, wiggling their eyebrows. you don’t see it, but rafe does, and he scowls at them.
topper calls out your name again,“why’d you stop texting us halfway through our trip?”
“yeah, did you run out of data or something?” kelce questions.
“um—yeah, so…” you trail off, looking at the ground. “I met someone, and we really hit it off,” you smile, and the two boys make an ooooh sound, teasing. you continue, “yeah, we’ve been talking for a week now, and he seems like a chill guy,” you chuckle. “so sorry I ghosted you guys.” “you’re good, just, rafe was gettin’ all pissy when you wouldn’t answer,” topper sprawls across the tile. “shut up, top,” rafe groans.
“c’mon, don’t act like you were about to hop on a plane yourself to go visit her,” you giggle at topper’s teasing. you found it endearing that rafe cares about you so much. guess he’s still the same boy after all these years.
“rafe, I hate him!” you scream into your pillow. “I know sweetheart,” rafe gently rubs your back, sighing. after a month of talking, you and johnny decided to meet up again. in new york. it was stupid, meeting up with a guy you’ve met in real life once. he played you, hard. he had completely flaked on the meet up itself and ghosted you. money wasted and heart broken, you sulked on your bed.
“am I stupid, rafe?” you ask, tears staining your cheeks. “no, sweetheart. a bit oblivious, yes. stupid, definitely not.”
you sniffle, rafe handing you a tissue.
rafe whispers, “i’ll beat his ass for breakin’ your heart.” you know he didn’t mean it, but you shake your head regardless. sitting up, you face him, “he doesn’t deserve your time anyway.” he smiles, eyes crinkling, “that’s the spirit.”
there’s a sparkle in his eyes. without knowing it, you lean closer to him. you feel him breathe, soft breaths hitting your face. you don’t stop, tilting your head and pressing your lips against his. oh god, what have you done?
he kisses back, arms wrapping around your waist. your mind moves a million miles per hour. you tangle your hands in his hair as he lays you down, crawling on top of you.
“are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? you know, our relationship’s gonna change after this, no going back,” he says breathlessly.
he’s so beautiful. taking a deep breath in, you blissfully say,
“yes.”
divider by sseuda on tumblr
#𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙄’𝙎 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆𝙎*ೃ༄#fanfic#fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fluff#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe x y/n#outer banks#obx fluff#obx rafe cameron#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx#obx imagine#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x you
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Oooo what about a blurb/fic od the 18 months where the reader is finally getting her chance to recover from the events at the Cameron’s house/with singh/everything lol and it’s just night after night nightmares. Screaming everyone awake and such?? Can you elaborate
love love love this thank u for the request!!
also requested: I have a routledge reader idea, you mentioned nightmares she had during the 18 months, maybe John B being the one to save her from them. Basically rocking her as she screamed bloody murder. Sometimes not even nightmares just night terrors she couldn’t escape. Maybe him forcing her into going to see a therapist but it just makes her worse until the therapist suggest a family meeting and more and more of the ab*se and torture comes out she experienced
series masterlist
- -
The nightmares had been going on since you escaped the Cameron household with JJ almost three (?) years ago now. (bro can this show give a better timeline a girl is struggling)
There was no surprise you were haunted by the near-death experiences and trauma you had been through with your friends and by yourself. Whether it was Rafe, losing John B, or watching your friends disappear from your eyes, sleeping wasn’t easy and it wasn’t kind to your mind.
Obviously, the events at El Dorado, watching your father die in front of you, and watching people get shot, were hard to wrap your head around. It was like the sight was burned in your eyes and every time you tried to rest, your body couldn’t forget.
The hospital had recommended therapy after stitching up the bullet wound from South America, and although you considered it heavily at the time, you didn’t fully commit. You’d gone to a few welcome sessions, and one individual before the cost aspect came in, and that’s where you were no longer interestd.
JJ caught you first, which made sense. The bags under your eyes were dark and you were a shell of a human at that point. JJ hadn’t realized you were slipping out of bed at night to stare at the stars, falling victim to the voices and images in your head. It was one off night where he’d been rattled by the thunder and lightning of a storm and he realized you were curled up in the hammock out on the covered balcony. Figuring you were enjoying the storm, he moved to join you, but the tears and soft sobs told him so much more.
John B witnessed the worst one. The group was pulling an all-nighter on the shop prep before opening day and you’d dipped to take a quick nap before rejoining. John B had never had his heart drop so violently when he heard your scream. It was so deep and terrifying that he was sprinting up the stairs by two each to get to you as fast as possible, fearing the worst.
He had never seen you in such a state, like sleep paralysis had taken over and left you silent. John B didn’t hesitate to wrap you into his hold, pulling you into a sitting position and lovingly crushing you between his arms. Seconds felt like hours before you relaxed in his embrace and the first sob left your lips.
John B didn’t know what to do, but he was there, and that’s what mattered.
He let it go for a few weeks, checking in with JJ when you weren’t looking to see if anything got better. When it didn’t, he practically carried your ass to therapy, claiming the gold had a loose enough budget to accommodate a few sessions. You felt guilty about the whole thing between cost and timing of someone taking you, but John B and JJ reassured you multiple times not to.
“You deserve to take up space in this family,” John B had told you when you refused to get out of the van at the third session, claiming there were more important things that needed to happen. “I know you don’t agree with me, and you probably never will, but you deserve to heal from this, too.”
And then came the arguments that you could push through, that everyone in the group likely needed therapy anyway. John B didn’t let that one last long, arguing that nobody else was waking up with screams besides you and occasionally, JJ.
You were stubborn, and after everything, you didn’t want to let your walls down to strangers. Then, you’d found a friend (term used very lightly).
Sofia was volunteering at the sessions, but given the fact that both of you were Pogues, you’d at least clicked somewhat after talking. Neither of you talked outside of the 30–60-minute sessions, but you were grateful for the familiar face when you walked in the room. Little did you realize how much that would come to bite you in the ass.
You learned how to talk yourself out of an anxiety attack, and to acknowledge you needed to cope with this stuff on an individual basis. As much as you loved your friends, you couldn’t rely on them to fix this for you.
The last individual session had been a shit show. The recommendation that John B come sit in with you was not a welcomed one, and although you loved your brother so much, it was hard to be emotionally vulnerable while working on building independence.
John B had his guesses of what happened when you were with the Camerons, and then again when Singh had taken you off the beach. And while he didn’t want to pry, there were millions of questions he’d had about everything that happened. The way you shut down in the hall at Tannyhill, the screaming, the shying away from someone’s touch.
You’d taken a lot of shit from your dad over the years, but John B’s never seen you so small and scared in your life.
While the session was pretty much useless, and almost broke into an argument when they tried to manipulate you into answering things you didn’t want to discuss, you were done. You told John B to never bring you back again, so he didn’t.
He wanted to fix all of it, to fill the promises he’d given you over the years and be the older brother you’d deserved for so long. You were both teenagers at the end of the day, but God, you could barely act like one with everything you’d gone through.
One day, you’d spill everything to your brother...come clean about the scars, visible and hidden, that would forever stain your skin and soul. And he would listen, cry, and be there for it all… because that’s what big brothers do.
That’s what John B had promised. And he was done breaking promises.
#jj maybank#jj outer banks#outer banks jj#jj writing#jj x you#jj one shot#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank angst#jj maybank x reader#goy series
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'I Have A Girlfriend! ₊‧.°
Post-Anesthesia!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader ᧔᧓Ingredients: Crack, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! zᶻ∘⋆TWs: Menace Miles, N-word usage, Cussing, Jeff abuse, me brushing up on Spanish ⁺˚⋆W/C: 1k! ♡⸝⸝A/N: Crackfic abt post-op Miles 😝 I spent 20 minutes trying to get tumblr to work on my fuhkin computer. No images but dividers idc
"Miles, Put your tongue back in your mouth!" Mrs. Morales urged as she pulled him back on the couch. "Ay, Dios! ¿Cuándo te poniste tan pesado?" She huffed, flopping back on the couch. Miles didn't answer, groaning in frustration as he slid halfway down the sofa in protest. "MamiiiiiiiiiI!" He whined in a shrill voice, gauze muffling his every syllable. "Yes, Miles? What is it now?" Mama Rio asked, her tone laced with amused irritation.
"Dónde está mi novia?" He muttered as the top of his head smushed against the glazed hardwood floor. "She's on her way Miles, calm down you're not supposed to talk too much…MILES! NO NO NO!" She urged as she watched her son attempt to spit out the bloody gauze tucked into the back of his mouth. There were three soft knocks at the Morales's door, with Mama Rio sighing in relief as she opened the door to reveal your smiling face, your eyes widening as you heard Miles's low groans of disproval in the background. "Hi, Mrs. Morales! Is he…okay?" You asked quietly, peering your head through the front door as you watched Miles inch slowly off of the sofa. "Hey, sweetie! Oh don't worry about him he's…being dramatic…" she trailed off, slowly gazing at her son who was now folded in half on the floor.
She giggled quietly, stepping to the side as she permitted you entry into her warm and inviting home. You made a B-line for Miles, scooping the liquid boy up under his arms and laying him back on the couch. "Hey, my love! How are you-…Aht! Nigga!?" you began, eyes widening in shock as he shushes you, grabbing your face in his entire hand as he barely held his eyes open. "No! I…Have a girlfriend!" he slurs, doing a half-crunch to be eye level with you as he attempts to make eye contact. You laughed quietly, gently easing him back to his resting position. "I am your girlfriend!" You chuckled, watching as his eyes widened as wide as the anesthesia would allow them to.
"Muñequita! Te amo tan mucho…" He exclaimed, engulfing you in a surprisingly lethal hug that left you tapping his forearm for release. You nodded avidly, loosening his arm slightly so you could comfortably breathe before slipping away from his grasp to go help Mama Rio with some household chores. You spent around 20 minutes making small talk with her, talking about how his procedure went, how long it would take to recover, and a bit about how much of a fool he was acting just minutes before your arrival. You giggled as you gossiped like school girls, perking up when you heard the front door swing open. "Oh, Hello Mr. Morales!" You greeted, waving a hand energetically from the kitchen sink.
"Hey! Thanks for coming to check on…Miles." He begins, head slowly turning towards his son who was now face down and completely on the floor. He was babbling absolute nonsense, singing songs in the completely wrong key to keep himself distracted as he attempted to find his footing. You rushed over to him, Mama Rio holding up her camera and covering her mouth to silence any giggles that threatened to break free. "C'mon, Vamos a recuperarte…that's it…" You grunted, lifting a very zooted Miles off the ground, knees buckling as he leaned his head on your shoulder and rested every pound of his body weight against you. You gasped, nearly falling over before Jeff quickly grabbed Miles, attempting to throw him over his shoulder and get him to his room. Everyone fell silent as a loud *pop!* noise was heard, Rio laughing as loudly as humanly possible while Jeff winced in slight pain. Miles put all his strength possible into popping his father, remaining groggy and unafraid as he gave his father a sleepy but stern glare. "Who the FUCK are you nigga?" he garbled, feet dangling in the air as Jeff held him up under his arms just above his head. He gave him the most livid glare that would've sent sober Miles into a coma, sighing and shaking his head as he mumbled to himself. "Yeah, that's it alright. Grounded for TWO MONTHS!" You lost all composure, wheezing and cackling on the floor as you watched Jeff angrily swaddle Miles in his hoodie, tying the sleeves of the red cotton together in a makeshift way to make sure his arms didn't move again.
You and Rio struggled to find your air as Jeff threw him down onto the couch, wrapping two blankets underneath the cushion and around Miles to hold him in place. Miles cried loudly, screaming as his life depended on it as his father put his hands on his hips, giving him one final glare, and walking away. You struggled to breathe as you got up and patted Miles's head, hooting and hollering as you wiped the remnants of tears from your waterline. You were just about to calm down, taking deep breaths as you stabilized your lungs. "Oh, hey, Kitty!" you cooed, glancing over at the family cat as he jumped up on Miles's chest. Miles squinted at the small ginger cat, taking it in for about 10 seconds before screaming. "WOAH WOAH WOAH WHATS WRONG!?" You asked, watching as Miles's face contorted into one of genuine horror. The cat was now long gone, swishing off into the hallway to take several deep bites of food. Miles was still screaming, babbling incoherently about some sort of 'overgrown rat' being on his chest. You lost it once more, head and chest throbbing as you laughed yourself into hysteria. You cuddled up by your boyfriend, shushing him through tears as you peppered gentle kisses to the side of his face. "Miles! Calm down, okay? It's literally your cat!" You giggled, patting his face gently as he squirmed in the makeshift straight jacket his father put him in. After calming him down and getting him to drink some water you noticed him begin to mellow out, holding him close to you as you slowly silenced him to sleep.
"C'mon, shut the mouth…No-No, don't spit out your gauze we'll change that later. I love you, Miles!" "Bleh."
#atsv#across the spiderverse#into the spiderverse#miles morales x reader#miles morales#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#menace miles#miles is 1610#miles morales 1610#1610 miles x reader#spiderman 1610#earth 1610 miles fluff
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Homeless Disabled/Mostly Queer Family Needs Help...In The Home Stretch Now!
PAYPAL | AMAZON WISHLIST | KOFI | GOFUNDME
VENMO: @penaltywaltz | CASHAPP: $afteriwake23 | ZELLE: DM me for email address
3/21/24
So things have taken a slight turn for the worse, and while the shelter staff is amazing and our caseworker is doing everything she can for us, we just need to get out of a toxic environment and get into housing as soon as we can. The low-income housing fell through (we don't make enough money for a three-person household, even though we could cover the rent), so tomorrow I'm going through the list I got from the Oceanside housing office and calling everyone. I did talk to a lovely person at a complex in Fallbrook about a place we could afford but she said check every week because there may be an opening if a military family has to leave on short notice.
A friend of mine is going to cover most of the last of the loans for us (around $1500) on the 27th or so so we'll have more money to put toward moving costs if a place opens up. I know I have one $140 loan payment, one $125 loan payment and my mom has a $210 payment we need covered, plus we owe the cable company $163 for equipment we have in storage and can't get to until we get housing.
I'm setting a goal for $1000; anything else will go for apartment application fees and food once my food stamps run out (we get three meals a day but Lena is gone from, like, 6 AM to 9 PM and misses them so I send her to Starbucks with food).
$1000/$1200
#signal boost#mutual aid#mutual aid request#urgent#emergency#time sensitive#community aid#gofundme#venmo#paypal#zelle#cashapp#amazon wishlist#ko fi link#buy me a coffee#buy me a kofi#ko fi support#financial assistance#financial aid#direct action#crowdfunding#fundraising#please boost#please reblog#please share#please help#help needed#anything helps#bills#homeless support
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The Lady - 5
Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader
Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.
I'd really appreciate it if anyone who likes this series could leave a comment or reblog with a GIF.
Could you let me know what your thoughts are? Reblogs and comments are the main things that keep me posting new stories. ❤️❤️❤️
"Oh my god. Oh my god. What am I going to do?" You paced back and forth, your mind racing with worry.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk replaced with a concerned frown. "Why are you the one stressed out?" He assured you that you wouldn't have to deal with dirty work.
This was the first time Bucky had seen you lose your composure.
You grabbed his collar, desperation evident in your eyes. "You don't understand, the last person I want to deal with is my stepsister."
Returning home, you realized that if there was an investigation, your job profession could make you a suspect, too.
Trying to calm you down, Bucky suggested, "For the alibi, if anyone asks, just say that you were with me."
You scoffed, feeling frustrated. "Like they're going to believe that I wanted to spend a day with you."
Everyone in your household knew how annoyed you were with Bucky. On numerous occasions, they had heard you complain about him to Cedric, the family lawyer.
You were quiet as you picked up the phone to make a call.
"Y/N?"
The sound of his voice brought a sense of calm over you. "I need your help."
"I'll be there."
A few hours later...
Bucky chimed in with his usual teasing tone. "Ooh, so you choose him over me?"
You rolled your eyes while Eddie checked on you.
Eddie interjected, "Her family will believe me if she spends the night with me."
Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words.
"But there's something missing," Eddie continued.
"What?" you asked.
"They won't believe it if you only say it was a sleepover," Eddie explained.
"What are you trying to say?" you inquired.
Bucky caught on. "Hangover."
Eddie nodded in agreement. "You have to make yourself look hungover. That strengthens your alibi."
"Right," you acknowledged.
Bucky rolled his eyes, realizing that he had suggested the idea first, but you were only listening to Eddie.
"Perfect. I have plenty of alcohol here. What do you want to drink?" Bucky offered.
You replied confidently, "Start with the strongest."
"Yes," Bucky agreed.
After downing three shots of vodka, you started to lose yourself in the night. With the alcohol, the music, and the vibrant atmosphere of Bucky's club, you found yourself enjoying the moment and forgetting about your troubles.
######
As you awakened, the sensation of your stomach churning made you groan. It felt as if your insides had shifted, causing discomfort to spread throughout your body.
Slowly, you managed to sit up, only to discover that you were sprawled atop Eddie, who was still fast asleep and holding you close. Relief washed over you as you realized that both of you were still fully clothed.
However, the memories of the previous night flooded back, each one hitting you with increasing clarity.
"You're awake?"
Your eyes widened at the sound of Bucky's voice. Glancing over, you saw him standing nearby, his shirt rumpled and a distinct lipstick stain marking his lips.
A wave of nausea swept over you, prompting you to grab the nearby champagne bucket and empty its contents in a fit of vomiting.
"Urggh."
Bucky's remark cut through the haze of your discomfort. "Well, that hurts my feelings. You see my face and vomit."
"Urrghh," you groaned, the sickness still plaguing you.
Eddie winced, his hand moving to massage his throbbing head. "What kind of drink did you give us last night, Barnes?"
Bucky shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It's a new drink I picked up from a celebrity brand."
Eddie chuckled ruefully. "That explains everything."
He rose from his makeshift bed and reached over to pat your shoulder gently. You noticed a faded lipstick stain on his lips, the same color as yours. A blush crept up your cheeks as you realized the implications of the matching marks.
Meanwhile, the incessant ringing of your phone filled the air, causing your head to throb even more.
"Ring, ring."
You cringed, covering your ears to block the sound, but Eddie took the initiative to answer.
"77 missed calls," he informed you.
You grabbed your phone, reluctantly answering the next call.
"Where the hell are you?!!!" your mother's voice pierced through the line.
You sighed. "Mom, don't scream."
"What—? Are you drunk right now? Come home now. Your sister's fiancé died."
You negotiated, "Give me 2 hours."
"One hour."
Turning to the two men beside you, you sought their reassurance. "Do you think they're going to believe me?"
Eddie, suppressing a burp, offered some confidence. "I believe so. You rarely get drunk, and you have a reasonable reason after your fight with Charlotte."
Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, how do you know about me and her?"
Bucky yawned lazily. "You spilled the beans last night."
You were shocked.
Bucky leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he added, "You spilled your guts about how you missed your stepdad, how your mother missed your birthday for five years straight, and how you had a row with your stepsister."
Eddie chimed in, his expression sympathetic as he confessed, "I did try to stop you."
You sighed heavily, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. "Oh no."
Bucky, ever the opportunist, concluded, "But it supports your alibi, since half the club heard your sob story."
You couldn't help but huff in frustration, feeling the bile rising in your throat once more. "Great."
Amidst the conversation, Bucky's smirk only widened while Eddie wore a more concerned expression, his brow furrowed in sympathy.
Your body language betrayed your discomfort, with tense shoulders and a hand clutching your churning stomach, while your eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape from the mess you found yourself in.
########
Watching everyone in grief, especially Charlotte, who was sobbing as she watched her fiancé's casket being lowered into the ground. Charles stood beside her, offering what comfort he could.
Susan stood next to you, her voice barely above a whisper, "Give me one thing that would justify your actions."
She sounded grief-stricken seeing Charlotte cry like that, but she seemed oblivious to your own stress.
Wearing sunglasses to hide your red, teary eyes, you replied softly, "He cheated on her."
Susan clenched her fist, her anger palpable. "Good, he deserved it then."
After the funeral, you found yourself face-to-face with Bucky once again. With a roll of your eyes, you couldn't help but remark, "Now I feel like you're the angel of death."
Bucky merely smirked, seemingly unfazed by your comment. "I'm here to meet my client."
Drawing closer to him, you whispered, "You mean the one who ordered the hit on the prince?"
A nod from Bucky confirmed your suspicion, and he subtly gestured towards a woman standing on the fringes of the grieving family.
Your eyes widened in recognition. "Rosie?" Memories of encounters with her during summers spent at Eddie's manor flooded your mind.
Bucky's response was chillingly matter-of-fact. "You know her? Great. She's only paid half. The other half hasn't come through yet."
Your incredulity peaked. "Are you kidding me? Right now?"
You attempted to intervene, but your attention was diverted when you noticed Eddie approaching Rosie.
Bucky's voice cut through the tension with a teasing tone. "Oh-oh. Someone's jealous."
You shot him a glare, cursing inwardly. If even someone like Bucky could pick up on it, then your feelings must be glaringly obvious.
With a dismissive shrug, you replied, "It's just an old crush."
Bucky's smirk widened as he observed your reaction. "Seeing you like this makes me want to tease you more, Your Grace."
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First Christmas with Mr Leclerc???? Like maybe you start a tradition with him and he's just so in love and can't believe you want to spend the holidays with him 😍
Can We Go See Santa?
Charles Leclerc x Reader
As this is a flash fic it hasn’t been edited
As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️
The arrivals area of the airport was practically bursting at the seams, everywhere you looked there were multiple bodies darting around the large room. Everyone was in their own world, hunting for their bags and family, ready to start the festivities that would follow over the next couple of days.
Reaching up you tugged the hood of your boyfriend's hoodie further over your cap before making sure your three year old’s hood was still covering her face, she was fast asleep in your arms, soft snores escaping her lips every so often, the flight completely wiped her out and honestly you were happy about that. For the past couple of days she had been a little terror, but in all fairness it was all due to excitement of getting to see her ‘Char Char’ again. Over the last couple of months fans had started to raise their suspicions about you and the monegasque driver. He had started soft launching you on his social media and you knew that one day the world would have to know you two were dating. But your main concern was your daughter, she was too young to understand what was going on, all she knew was the love she held for Mummy’s boyfriend.
Somehow you managed to spot Arthur amongst the crowd, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the youngest Leclerc, his disguise was shocking and he was lucky to now get trampled in the busy airport. Shaking the thoughts out of your mind you slowly pushed your way through the crowded room. Dropping your gaze you realized that Arthur had grabbed your suitcases meaning that your escape was going to be quick and hopefully uneventful.
“Comment s'est déroulé le vol ? How was the flight?” The youngest Lecerc beamed, reaching out to take Alice from you. The movement caused her to stir, pulling her tiny fists to her eyes, the moment she realized it was Arthur holding her it was like someone had flipped a switch and she was wide awake.
“Arta,” she giggled, placing her hand on his cheek. She had always struggled to pronounce his name but he really didn’t care.
“Hi, my sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s get the two of you back home, Maman is so excited to see you.”
The journey back to his car was relatively quick, he had managed to secure a really good parking space right near the main doors. The moment he opened the back door of the car my heart melted when I saw the brand new car seat secured onto the back seat of Pascales’ car. “Maman wanted her little bear to be safe, and she said she had a feeling you would be spending a lot more time in Monaco.” Arthur chuckled, looking over his shoulder flashing me a warm smile.
“Let’s not rush,” you hummed, slowly pushing the hood of Charles’ hoodie down before climbing into the front seat of the car, “We haven’t been together for a year yet.”
“Yet I have never seen my brother so happy,” he grinned, double checking the seatbelt was secured before he quickly made his way to the driver's seat. “God, he is gonna be so happy to see you.”
Nothing could wipe the smile off your face as Arthur backed out of the parking space, making his way towards the exit of the car park. “I’m honestly surprised how we have all managed to keep this a secret,” you hummed, resting your head against the window of the car. The sounds of giggles from the back seat filling the small space, “especially Alice, she's been so excited to see you all.”
The journey from the airport didn’t take long and the moment you stepped foot into the Leclerc household you were pounced on by Pascale. “Oh my dear, it is so good to see you,” she beamed, practically crushing your ribs with how tight she was hugging you. “Char will be home within the next ten minutes.”
Your heart started racing at the thought of him walking through the door with no knowledge you were here. You couldn’t wait to see him, this would be your first Christmas together and hopefully the first of many.
Charles abruptly came into your life one rainy day in the UK, to this day you still felt some embarrassment from the day you met. Alice was two and she decided it was a good idea to run away from you in a busy park. She went sprinting across the field, she had spotted Charles before you had, screaming his name before barging into him causing him to spill his iced coffee down himself. But instead of being angry he smiled softly at my daughter before chasing after her causing her giggles to echo around the park.
Pushing the memory to the back of your mind, you followed Pascale into the kitchen, taking a seat at the kitchen table whilst Arthur chased Alice around the house. You found myself fumbling with the sleeves of Charles’ hoodie. You had never done anything like this before so my hands were starting to get clammy, what if he didn’t want you here? What if you had made a mistake? Was it too soon to be spending Christmas with him and his family?
Because your mind was spinning you didn’t notice the man you were worrying about was currently standing in the doorway. Taking a deep breath you finally looked up when you heard someone cough from across the room. The corners of your lips tugged into a wide smile as you let your gaze scan over your man leaning against the door frame. His green eyes glistened with happiness as he saw you sitting at the kitchen table.
“Hi,” you breathed, slowly pushing yourself to your feet.
Charles couldn’t believe what he was seeing, he had no idea you were coming to Monaco but he was happy to see you standing in the kitchen of his childhood home.
“When did you get here?” he whispered, scared if he spoke too loudly then you would disappear and this was just a figment of his imagination.
“I actually only got here about fifteen minutes ago,” you giggled, closing the gap between the two of you. The moment you got within arms reach of him, he wasted no time in pulling you into his chest, squeezing you tight, never wanting to let you go.
“Êtes-vous ici pour Noël ? Are you here for Christmas?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Thought we could start some new traditions, you, me and Alice,” you responded, looking up, resting your hand against his cheek. “Make some better Christmas memories for the two of us.”
Before Charles could respond we were attacked by the little terror that was my three year old daughter. “Char Char,” she screamed, trying to climb him like a tree.
He quickly pulled away from the hug to scoop her up in his arms, the moment she was high enough he pressed a small kiss to the end of her nose, causing her giggles to echo around the room. Nothing could wipe the smile off Charles’ face, he had both his girls with him on his favorite season of the year. The distance was starting to kill him, all he wanted was both of you by his side as he traveled the world, that was his Christmas wish this year.
“I missed you, Princess,” he whispered, brushing some of her loose curls away from her eyes.
“Missed you more, Char Char,” she whispered back, resting her small hand on his cheek. You felt tears threatening to spill over your lash line. Charles had completely changed your life for the better, he treated your daughter as if she was his own and there never went a day where he didn’t shower either of you in love. “Can we go and see Santa?” Alice asked, widening her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes at Charles.
“I can’t think of anything better, Princess,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before placing her on the ground and watching her sprint towards the front door.
“You willing to stand in line for hours, waiting to see someone dressed as the big man?” you hummed in amusement, tucking your hands into the back pocket of our jeans. “You know there is a chance we will get spotted.”
The smirk on his face melted your heart and if it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning against the counter top, you swore your knees would have given out on you. “You and Alice are my entire world, babygirl and I don’t want to hide that away anymore.” he whispered, closing the gap between the two of you, planting his hands on your hips. “I want to start new traditions with you, Y/N. And if the first one is making sure that every year Alice gets to go see Santa, followed by a walk around a Christmas market with hot chocolate.”
“That sounds perfect, Mr Leclerc,” you giggled, brushing your noses against his.
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ik the post was from like a week ago but would like to hear your thoughts on jackie and the prescription drug thing because it really isnt discussed!
Absolutely. Jackie has prooooblems and I really wish they were more openly talked about in the fandom.
So there are at least three references to Jackie abusing prescription drugs in canon. I forget what the third is (I might be misremembering it but I'm pretty sure it's there), but the first two are in "Pilot" and "Blood Hive". The reason why Shauna is asleep during the flight is that Jackie has given her Valium, a benzo (its generic name is diazepam) that in the 70s through 90s was commonly prescribed for anxiety and to an extent still is. What's remarkable about this is the casual way everyone involved treats it; this is consistent in how Shauna and Jackie themselves talk about Jackie's drug use, but the scene also establishes that even Jackie's mother doesn't seem to see any need to monitor her teenage daughter's access to her pills. As Jackie puts it, "Swiped these from my mom's medicine cabinet. Valium. She's got, like, a never-ending supply, so I doubt she'll even notice."
A series of questions already arises here, all of which the show is fascinatingly uninterested in answering, possibly because the screenwriters share Shauna and Jackie's flippant attitude (which is generational, as I'll discuss below) but, I think, likely also because what's implied about the Taylor household here is more disturbing if it's not spelled out. Why does Mrs. Taylor have that much of a med lying around at all times? Has Jackie taken the Valium before? If so, why and how often? (Does she, perhaps, use it to get through sex acts with Jeff?)
The second time this comes up is in the scene in which Shauna and Jackie are discussing their respective Wilderness skills as Shauna butchers one of Nat and Travis's first quarries. Almost everyone in the fandom has favorite bits of this scene, which is full of fantastic Shaunajackie lines and moments, so it's surprising to me that this isn't discussed more, but again, the breathtakingly casual delivery probably goes some way towards distracting the viewer from what's actually being communicated. (It could also be that the line in question here comes immediately before "Wowza, Shipman," which understandably steals the show):
Shauna: Remember when Kiffy Schumacher broke her arm right before we were supposed to go to Whipsplash River, and you told her that if she shared her Percocet, we'd all crash bingo at the Elks Lodge instead? Jackie: Wait. Is this a pep talk? Wowza, Shipman. Wow, that is so not your style.
Uh. Girls? You okay there? "Poppin' Percs" is something Kendrick Lamar accused Drake of earlier this month. The company that makes this drug is currently being pounded in court by the Attorneys General of Ohio, Mississippi, Missouri, New York, and possibly other states too since the last time I checked. You're talking about like it's Pez.
Percocet is a mixture of oxycodone, which is an opioid, and paracetamol, which is a common over-the-counter painkiller (it's called acetaminophen in the US and a few other countries; it's the active ingredient in Tylenol and Panadol). Unlike Valium, oxy is something I've been on in the past--I, like Kiffy Schumacher, had a badly fucked-up arm a few years ago--so I can speak to how it's currently treated in American medical culture. You're given a very small amount of it at once, you pace yourself taking it and alternate it with over-the-counter painkillers unless absolutely necessary, and if you have any left over when you decide you no longer need it, which I did, you surrender whatever pills you still have on you to the police. I know that the current widely accepted view on drug control is that it's wildly overdone in the US, and I agree with that for the most part, but in this case the tight controls on this sort of painkiller are a regulation that was written in blood. And the opioid epidemic is still ongoing; in fact, in some ways it's worse, since people are using black-market opioids now that are even more dangerous than oxy and its ilk.
I do want to stress that Jackie's pattern of drug use isn't unusual for a teenager; in fact, it's pretty classic. "Adolescents....most commonly reported receiving prescription[s] for free from a friend or relative, although significant proportions of adolescents also used their own prescriptions, purchased drugs from a dealer, or took them from friends or family without asking." (The article linked cites data taken in 2006, when the prescription drug abuse epidemic on whose upward slope Jackie lives had plateaued.) I also want to clarify that the cavalier attitude Shauna and Jackie have towards prescription drugs isn't unique to this category of substances; teenagers in the 1990s were much more blasé about controlled substances in general than they are today, and adolescent prescription drug abuse has declined less than most other categories:
(Note the especially massive drop-off in adolescent cigarette use after the turn of the millennium. Lottie in her kinderwhore-meets-Empire Records party outfit diffidently holding a cig is very much an image from the past these days. And yet this isn't entirely a success story; adolescents who are still engaging in substance abuse are OD'ing a lot more than they were thirty years ago.)
I don't really have a conclusion here, because I just want to encourage the fandom to discuss this aspect of Jackie's character, not necessarily to adopt any particular narrativization or interpretation of it. This, then, is the basics on Jackie and prescription drugs. Poor girl.
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Chapter One: November’s Chill
The nursing home was alive with its usual chaos, but Thanksgiving added an extra layer of frenzy. Meadow Sayers stood at the edge of the bustling dining room, clipboard in hand, watching the staff scramble to serve plates of turkey, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce. The faint hum of a distant television played a football game, mixing with the chatter of residents and the clinking of cutlery against ceramic plates.
“Meadow! We need more gravy at table three!” one of the aides shouted over the noise. Meadow nodded, jotting it down before weaving through the tables like a captain steering her ship through a storm.
“Gravy, on it,” Lennox’s voice cut through the chaos before she even turned around.
She caught sight of him carrying a pitcher of gravy, his shaggy dark brown hair falling into his eyes. His thick beard did little to hide the mischievous smile tugging at his lips. Meadow raised an eyebrow as he approached.
“You’re awfully helpful today,” she teased.
He smirked, setting the pitcher down with exaggerated care. “Don’t get used to it. I’m just trying to rack up some good karma before I clock out.”
Meadow rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. Lennox had a way of cutting through the tension with his dry humor, and she appreciated it more than she let on.
---
As the evening wound down, the dining room began to empty. Meadow walked the perimeter, collecting stray utensils and napkins left behind. She knew she’d have to check the time clock soon to make sure everyone clocked out correctly, but for now, she enjoyed the brief quiet.
“Hey, Lennox!” she called over her shoulder, realizing she hadn’t seen him in a few minutes.
The sound of shuffling footsteps caught her attention, and before she could turn around, Lennox jumped out from behind a column near the time clock, arms outstretched like a cartoon ghost.
“Boo!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty dining room.
Meadow nearly dropped her clipboard. “Oh my God!” she yelped, clutching her chest. “Lennox, you’re going to give me a heart attack!”
He doubled over in laughter, his shoulders shaking. “You should’ve seen your face! Classic.”
“Classic?” she shot back, glaring at him. “You’re lucky I don’t write you up for this.”
“Go ahead,” he said, still grinning. “Put it on my performance review: ‘Lennox excels at scaring the hell out of his supervisor.’”
Meadow shook her head, trying to suppress her own laughter. She hated that he could disarm her so easily.
---
By the time the last resident was tucked into their room and the dining room was cleaned, it was nearly 9 PM. Meadow grabbed her coat from the staff room, the chill of the November night already seeping through the thin walls. Lennox was standing near the exit, waiting for her.
“Walking out together?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Safety in numbers,” he replied, his voice teasing but warm.
They stepped outside into the crisp night air, their breath visible in the pale glow of the parking lot lights. Lennox pulled his coat tighter around himself, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“So, what’s Thanksgiving like at the Sayers household?” he asked.
Meadow laughed, shaking her head. “Nonexistent. I work, eat leftovers, and go home to binge-watch some terrible TV show until I fall asleep.”
“Sounds thrilling,” Lennox said, smirking. “You’re really living the dream.”
“What about you?” she asked, glancing at him.
“Big family thing,” he said, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of something she couldn’t quite place. “Parents insist on all the traditions. You know, turkey, pie, awkward conversations about why I’m still single.”
Meadow laughed, the sound cutting through the quiet of the night. “Sounds…fun.”
“It’s tolerable,” Lennox said with a shrug. “But honestly? I’d rather be here. At least here, I don’t have to listen to my brother lecture me about how I’m wasting my potential.”
Meadow looked at him, surprised by the candidness of his answer. It was rare for Lennox to open up about his personal life, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.
“You’re not wasting your potential,” she said finally. “You’re good at what you do. And besides, who cares what anyone else thinks?”
Lennox smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “You’re not bad at this pep talk thing, you know.”
---
As they reached their cars, Meadow hesitated, her keys in hand. She wanted to say something more, to let him know that his words had stayed with her. But the moment passed, and instead, she offered him a small wave.
“See you tomorrow,” she said.
“See you tomorrow,” Lennox replied, his voice carrying a warmth that lingered even after he was gone.
Meadow climbed into her car and started the engine, the hum of the heater filling the silence. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she couldn’t help but glance in her rearview mirror, catching one last glimpse of Lennox as he drove away.
For the first time in a long time, she found herself looking forward to tomorrow.
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Snoeball being part of Jungkook's recent live? How would army react to that?
A/N: since yall always want angst..
Jungkook sometimes forgets that while he might think of his fans often throughout the day, they're not with him all the time. They don't know everything that he does- and they're not just a bunch of angels, willing to accept whatever decision he might make for himself.
So it's unsurprising that when the chat fills with messages, it's not just happy comments and hearts and innocent questions.
It's many, Many confused people, some even angry and upset at the implications of the visual situation he's in. Not because he's shirtless, or in bed-
But because he's shirtless, and in bed, with you right beside him, still asleep.
There's no way he can talk himself out of this so quickly, so he struggles, attempts to mask his own horror and growing panic by acting as if his connection is junk. It's not- it's perfectly fine, but he needs to buy himself some time to think of any way to explain why you'd be in the same bed with him almost naked.
Well, at least you're wearing a top- although the clear Calvin Klein logo on the corner up top near the neckline makes it somewhat worse, because it's clear from the fit alone and the way too big size that it's not yours-
And in his household, the only logical conclusion would be that it's his.
He's in deep shit.
There's no way he can just be honest- just go 'oh yeah, Snowball and I had sex and went to bed late' because at the end of the day these people watching him right now aren't his friends. A lot of them aren't even his fans right now. He's sure of it. They're probably fuming, disappointed, and angry.
And he's got no clue how to talk himself out of it.
Jimin seems to save the day however- asking in the chat if your nightmares had cleared up throughout the night- and Jungkook immediately grabs that lifeline thrown towards him by his bandmate.
"Ah yes, her nightmares.." he offers, nodding. "Hm, Snowball had a panic attack last night from the thunderstorm, so she slept in my bed." He nods, licking his lips in nervousness, hoping no one catches him lying. "I got a little lazy because I was really tired, so I gave her my shirt I was wearing so she can sleep a bit better. Because, you know, hybrids are really sensitive to scents. So I thought it might help, you know?" He offers, and it seems like it's somewhat working.
'She's drowning in it' jimin comments. Jungkook laughs.
"Ah yeah, my size is way too big on her.' He jokes, hopes to somewhat elevate the mood, as he changes the topic to something else.
He knows he fucked up.
He knows especially after ending the live, and checking social media- online magazines already feeding on his mistake like vultures, calling it 'suspicious', and picking out comments from netizens who call his actions inappropriate and even worse things. How he shouldn't let you sleep in his bed, how this could be possibly all just a play from his side to see if people would accept it if he was to be in a realtionship-
And he wants to cry like a toddler left alone in a mall, because it's just not fair.
He loves you, so much, and he wishes he could just do that openly. But no matter if hybrid or not, there's just no way anyone could ever survive being his partner.
Jimin calls his phone. He picks up.
"Aish Jungkookie, what were you thinking?" He scolds softly, and Jungkook just sighs, running a hand through his hair before he looks at you, still sleeping, barely having moved at all, unaware of the things happening. "I heard from Yoongi. About you.. three. I'm happy, I really am- but don't be so reckless." His bandmate reminds him.
"I know. I'm sorry." He offers. "I didn't.. think. I really didn't. I should've." He scolds himself, upset at it all. Now he's back at square one with you- and everyone involved. Now people will put every interaction between you and the band on a pedestal to gawk at and analyze.
He ruined it.
"Well figure it out. For now, just lay low." He offers. "Management will probably have a word with you soon."
"I'm sorry." Jungkook apologizes again. "I ruined it."
"Not yet." Jimin tries to reassure. "I'm sure some will be mad- yoongi-hyung is gonna tear you a new one that's for sure. But it'll die down." He tells the younger singer over the phone. "She's safe with us, down the line. We've got security that's top notch."
"But now we can't let her be seen with anybody anymore." He whines. "She had so much fun in the UK with me, and with Suga-hyung on his tour and now I fucked it up and she won't get to do any of it anymore." Jungkook complains, gripping his hair.
"Like I said, we'll figure it out." Jimin tells him. "For now, calm down. Sort your head a bit."
"I feel horrible." Jungkook reveals. "Just looking at her- I'm so stupid." He shakes his head at nothing.
"You're just innocent when it comes to these things." Jimin sighs on the other end of the line. "You'll learn."
"I just want people to.. accept us." Jungkook complains stubbornly. "What's so bad about what we have?"
"Absolutely nothing." His friend responds. "Like I said, calm down first. We'll figure out where to go from here." He offers.
"What if they take Snowball away now?" Jungkook whimpers. "Just because of me?"
"Jungkook they literally can't. She's filed for independent living, remember?" He says, and it's then that it hits Jungkook.
You did file for independence. You did get it approved.
You don't belong to anyone but yourself. You simply choose to stay with the boys, with him, because you want to. No one can take you away because you're technically your own legal guardian.
You're safe.
You won't leave.
And as he hangs up with a thanks to his friend, his phone clatters down onto the floor forgotten as he wraps his arms around you, tightly, so he can remind himself that you'll stay even if this all goes south.
You won't leave him alone, even if they all hate you and him.
You won't leave him alone.
And neither will he.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#hybrid imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts jeon jungkook imagine#hybrid jungkook imagine#jungkook imagines#bts jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook imagines
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7. “Is that blood?” “Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” “You are literally bleeding
Sounds like MC ngl but also me... hate being late so much that they would still show up to the groups practice or events on time after getting into a hit and run or something 😭 we love unhinged and dysfunctional ppl in this household ❤️
Today really isn’t your day. Your alarm didn’t go off so you had to get ready in a rush, resulting in you barely making it to your office on time for a meeting with the director for an upcoming photoshoot. Only to realize that you’ve left your files on your desk causing you to run back to your office to grab them. After that, you had multiple phone calls to make with different departments to keep everyone on track. And just when you thought you had a moment to catch your breath, a fellow staff member pulls you aside to discuss the schedule for next week.
All of this leads to you practically running down the hall to the practice room where you’re sure Fortune is waiting for you. You almost skid to a stop in front of the door and swiftly pull it open. In your haste, you somehow manage to slam the door on your face. More specifically, your nose. You barely register the blood dripping down as you stride to the front of the room.
“I’m going to assume that everyone’s already warmed up.” You start speaking, ignoring the stares the group gives you.
“Wait, hang on-” E tries to interrupt.
“We have a lot to go over today, so let’s start with going over the choreography for your title track.” You press on, looking down at your tablet.
“No, seriously-”
“We’ll start with the count and then slowly speed up. Hopefully we’ll be able to do a full run through by the end of the session.”
“Is that blood?” E looks at their group mates. “That’s totally blood, right?”
You roll your eyes. “Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is-”
They call out your name bluntly. “You are literally bleeding.”
You groan and finally look up to face the group. “It’s just a nosebleed, nothing serious. It’ll go away soon.” You don’t get why they’re making such a big deal out of this. It’s not like you’re seriously injured or anything.
E shakes their head. “Yeah, no. We’re going to take care of this first,” They approach you and take your hand, dragging you to one of the seats on the side of the practice room. “Sit.”
You do as they say, knowing you’re outnumbered four to one. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to let them win without a fight. X goes to get a first aid kit and E and O take their place sitting on either side of you. The leader pulls out a tissue from a tissue box and kneels in front of you, pressing the tissue against your nose to soak up the blood.
While all this is happening, you don’t hold back on your complaints about them wasting time on you, “I told you, I’m fine. Look, I’ll just go to the bathroom and while I’m gone you all can practice. We only have three hours here.”
You know for a fact that they’re all ignoring you.
X comes back, first aid kit in hand. It’s at this point all the adrenaline has left your body and you can feel your nose start to throb. X joins the rest of you, setting the kit on the floor. “You’ve got blood on your shirt,” They comment idly, handing you an ice pack. You’re not sure where they got it or how they knew to get one but you appreciate it nonetheless. “You should get your nose checked out, just in case.”
“Ever so eloquent, X,” O teases the vice leader with a snicker. “But I have a stain removal stick in my bag, I’ll go get it.” They get up to get the stick as you press the ice pack gently on your nose, soothing the pain slightly.
Now that things have calmed down, the group leader finally speaks up. “I know what you’re thinking. But don’t worry, we can make up for the lost time. What’s more important is taking care of you first. None of us will be able to focus if you’re hurt like this.” You glare at them, their attempt at guilt tripping you working too well. They only smirk at your glare just as O returns, passing the stain removal stick to you and reclaiming their spot. E rests their head on your shoulder, already starting to chatter away about some mundane stories while the rest of the group relaxes in a circle around you.
Yeah, today may not have been your day, but with your group of misfits taking care of you, you feel like it’s gotten a little brighter.
#bridging the gap if#snippets#interactive fiction#if wip#choice of games#choicescript#hosted games#character: fortune#hmmmm#not totally satisfied with this but it was getting too long#mc can pretend to be a holder of a braincell all they want but they will inevitably have their moments#but i do love the idea of an mc being like that this is fine meme
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Psychosomatic Freedom (To Your Head)
(Beetlejuice x Reader)
Summary: Renting out the spare bedroom in the Maitland/Deetz mansion was wacky enough when you found out you’d be living with real life ghosts, but things only got more intense when a certain demon was thrown into the mix as well. Not only does he pride himself on annoying you whenever you’re busy, but he chooses to do so in ways that make you regrettably very horny for him. You do well at keeping your flustered reactions under control when you’re around him, but please try to remember that he WILL appear if you say his name three times, no matter the context or intent.
Word Count: 13,840
Rating: Explicit
Warnings/Tags: horny demon escapades, a dash of praise kink, even smaller dash of humiliation kink if you squint, beetlejuice being a bastard but he also whimpers, hurt/comfort, emotionally vulnerable handjobs, afab reader (no gendered terms are used aside from beej referring to reader’s “tits” bc of him being the way that he is), tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there, monster fangs/tongues, overuse of bj’s mood ring hair, beetlejuice is so annoying that he loops back around into being majorly fuckable
Author’s Note: it’s finally happened. i’ve been meaning to write this fic for years, and i finally gathered the willpower to write it all out. i don’t know if i properly followed the post-musical summoning rules but tbh i just wrote this bc i wanna fuck beetlejuice and i didn’t do a lot of lore checking, apologies. i hope y’all enjoy regardless, this demon needs to be dommed so bad and i was more than happy to provide the scenario. anyways, you know the drill: if you’re good with all the tags and are 18+, please enjoy!
You can’t clearly remember the moment you realized that taking up residence in the Maitland/Deetz household was going to be more than you bargained for. The living family was eccentric enough, let alone the fact that they were currently cohabiting with a friendly ghost family. You had to be willing to accept a lot of zany things very quickly when you went in to sign the paperwork to rent out the mansion’s spare bedroom, and you’d say that you’ve taken everything in stride so far, all things considered. Charles and Delia Deetz were nice enough and stayed out of your business just as you did with theirs. They had been a bit strapped for cash after their investment in a gated neighborhood fell through, and it seemed as though they were happy enough to make some money off of renting out their guest bedroom to a sane person who mostly kept to themself. It was a win for everyone, so you got along just fine. Their daughter, Lydia Deetz, was less into staying out of your way, but she wasn’t rude about it by any means. She seemed to just be an eccentric teen who was curious about the person living in her house, and you’d gladly indulge her out-of-the-box conversation topics about the newest death metal bands and join her for an occult ritual or two. Classic teen stuff.
Of course, sharing a house with a living family was one thing, but adding a ghost family to the mix definitely livened things up (ironically). Adam and Barbara Maitland, also known as the previous owners of the house who had suffered a tragic premature death, were not what you expected from real life ghosts. It’s hard to say what you did expect when that bombshell was dropped on you, but it definitely wasn’t two polite suburban Millennials that felt more like a caricature of a couple you’d meet at a vegan farmers’ market than restless spirits haunting their old house. It was a wild day when you met them, assuming that Lydia was having a bit of fun with you when she’d ominously warned you that their house was haunted. But no, she was certainly not, as the couple took your moving-in day as their chance to formally introduce themselves. You didn’t actually believe that they were truly dead until Adam walked through a wall for you days later. Despite being slightly bummed that they didn’t look like the classic ghost with little wispy tails for feet, you were also a bit relieved that, although ghosts definitively exist, they can be just as friendly and unremarkable as any human. Not to say it as a knock against them, you actually found yourself hanging out with the Maitlands more than anyone else in the house. Against all odds, they were the most normal and down-to-earth ones in the whole household, and you were grateful to have them as housemates.
You got to hear all about how they got to the living arrangement they had now, and if you weren’t already rooming with ghosts, you’d have considered it too unbelievable to be true. But you’re glad to hear how well everyone seems to be doing with this new living arrangement, especially Lydia, who it seems had a really rough time of it right after her mom died. All things considered, you were beginning to really enjoy living in such a crazy house with such colorful personalities around you, all unique but living in harmony. Well. At least until he showed up.
You’d been warned that he does this from time to time. Part of their story told how he went from full-on antagonist to the weird uncle of the family, now popping in whenever he felt like it, often unannounced. He always claimed it was just to check in on his favorite mixed-life family, but in reality, it was mostly just to bother everybody.
As long as you live and die, you’ll never forget the first time he’d made one of his surprise visits after you’d moved in. You’d been sitting alone at the long dining room table, minding your own business as you typed away at important work on your laptop, fully lost in your task. Important files for your work lined your screen, all perfectly organized and sorted through after a long day’s work. But then, with no warning, your laptop’s display had changed to a blue screen, causing your eyes to widen in horror as you realized that it had fully died on you and probably lost all of your progress. You felt yourself choke out a horrible sound of despair, before a hand seemingly appeared from nowhere and pulled the blue screen back as though furling up a classroom projector screen, revealing your undisturbed desktop behind it.
“Woah, that was almost a really expensive mistake,” a gruff but playful voice laughed, coming from right next to you. “I forget how touchy technology can be when it comes to spirit energy. My bad, heh.”
You had whipped your head to the side to see a disheveled-looking man with bright green hair dressed in a black-and-white striped suit that looked like it needed to be washed and dry cleaned about 10 years ago. He was grimy, but almost purposefully grimy. Like it was part of his aesthetic. You’d seen some wild happenings in this house, but the sudden materialization of this random weird guy in the dining room was the first to leave you speechless.
“W-what…how…you just….” If first impressions truly were everything, he’d surely always think of you as the pinnacle of eloquence.
The stranger grinned at your reaction, obviously a bit pleased with himself. “No words, huh? Wouldn’t be the first time, I do tend to inspire that reaction in people. My undeniable charms aside, who are you? Some long-lost Deetz cousin visiting from WhoTheFuckKnowsVille or something?”
You finally regained enough of your speech abilities to respond just in time. “Uh, no. Just…renting the spare bedroom. No relation.” There was a moment of silence as he looked at you inquisitively, before you remembered your manners. “Um, I’m (Y/N). Am I right to assume that you’re Beetlejuice?” Hey, why do I need to have manners after he almost just fried my laptop? Your bitter thoughts go unfortunately unanswered.
He looked positively elated at your words, his dark eyes visibly lighting up as he sidled up next to you in your chair, ignoring the fact that it was clearly only made for one person. “Oh, wonderful! I get to skip the charades part with you. You’re already my new favorite person just for that, you don’t know how much I hate playing guessing games when the answer hasn’t changed in hundreds of years. But yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out. Unless you want to see me. Then all you gotta do is say it three times in a row, and I’m there, baby. Morning or night, rain or shine.” Boy, this guy talks a lot.
You nodded slowly, still bewildered. “Ah, alright. Sounds good. Did you…need anything?” You couldn’t, for the life of you, get an idea of what Beetlejuice would be doing here.
He huffed noncommittally. “Well, usually I come around to see everyone here, since the Netherworld gets reeeaaaalllly boring. But lately, Lydia’s gone so much at school, and my old flames Adam and Barbara don’t always have time for lil ol’ me anymore…” He made a pitiful little face and rested his head on your shoulder, acting like a kicked dog. Despite his bad manners and lack of personal space, you felt a piece of yourself feel bad for the demon. Looking back, that was your first mistake.
“Hey, don’t be upset. I know we just met, but if you come by and nobody’s here, I could always…hang out? For a bit?” And that was mistake number two.
His full demeanor shifted in an instant, as though you’d activated a switch on him that could never be turned off. “Really? You’d spend time? With me?” For a demon, he did have very effective puppy dog eyes. If you weren’t locked in on what you said before, you had to be now, looking him in the eye as he turned his full body towards you, inches from your face.
“Sure, I’m usually just hanging out around the house getting work done anyway. I could use a little company sometimes.” It felt more like you were talking yourself into this decision rather than him.
“Oh friend, you won’t regret it! We’ll have such a nice time together, I can just feel it. Don’t ask where, heh.” He pulled out a small business card from thin air and slid it smoothly between your fingers. “And remember babes, you want me, you just call my name. I wouldn’t keep someone as smokin’ as you waiting. Not like I have a choice.” Snickering to himself, he’d disappeared in a flash, leaving you with your head spinning as you wondered exactly what you’d agreed to.
As time passed, you found that you didn’t even need to call his name for Beetlejuice to show up in the middle of your day and start pestering you. Eventually, it got to a point where, even when the other members of the family were around, he’d still choose to hang around you over them at times. After a good while, you got to a point where you nearly forgot that calling his name three times would summon him due to how often he popped in of his own volition with no warning at all. And somehow, he only ever seemed to do this on days where you had something that really needed to get done, never just on a day where you were already lazing about on the couch and eating snacks. No, instead, he acted like a bored cat with no sense of responsibility whose only goal was to distract you, and it’s a goal that he prided himself in succeeding at through various methods. Turning your pencil into a baby sandworm, making the keys on your laptop keyboard detach and float away, grabbing whatever you’re working on and zipping it up in a pocket dimension for a few minutes. One time, he straight up ate an important stack of papers from your desk whole because you weren’t looking when he told you he was about to do a cool trick. Anything to rile you up and steal your attention for a bit.
You find yourself in another situation like that on today of all days, when you’re swamped in assignments and don’t have a moment to spare. You can already feel his unseen eyes watching you as you sit hunched over your large desk-vanity, checking out what you’re up to before he acts. You’ve developed almost a sixth sense for detecting him when he’s invisible at this point, but somehow knowing that he’s secretly here just makes your heart race faster. There’s no feeling quite like trying to predict the first move of a master scarer while he’s in the room, but you quickly decide to put a stop to it today.
“I know you’re there, Beetlejuice,” you say, clear and stern. It would really emphasize how serious and non-playful you’re feeling today, if not for the way the corners of your mouth turn upwards of their own accord. Fight though you might, your body always gives away how much you enjoy the little games you two play. You allow your eyes to slowly wander away from your glowing laptop screen to stare at the large mirror in front of you, hoping to catch a glimpse of his figure lurking behind you and catch him before he can put whatever plan he has into action. Just as you’re scanning the reflection for anything that seems off, your vision is engulfed by a sharp toothy grin manifesting in front of you from within the mirror.
“Boo.”
He can barely get the first syllable out uninterrupted before you’re screaming and jumping back so far that you nearly fall backwards out of your chair, only catching your balance at the last moment. You turn your fiery gaze up to his smug face, still sticking halfway out of your mirror.
“You rat bastard!” You’re panting so hard that you can’t even think of a clever insult for him outside of playground swears, which only seem to egg him on.
He flutters his eyelashes innocently. “Aww, you liked it that much? Well, I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. There’s plenty more where that came from, heh.” He sticks a long, snake-like striped tongue out of his mouth as if to cheekily punctuate his statement.
Despite yourself, you feel your face beginning to flush at his suggestive behavior and turn your back on the mirror to conceal your expression. You don’t want to admit it, but over the past few months, you had developed an issue even bigger than the simple annoyance of a demon constantly pestering you: you found yourself feeling really attracted to Beetlejuice’s stupid face and mannerisms. Even though he was insufferable, he was also undeniably cute and charismatic in a strange way, and he always managed to get you riled up in more ways than one through his teasing. This would only make you all the more bothered by his antics, which in turn would make him want to press your buttons even more. It was a vicious cycle that only ever ended up in you feeling a unique mix of irritated and hot under the collar after he left. Why, why was I cursed with attraction to this rude little gremlin man? He’s gross, and crude, and annoying…and yet.
You wrinkle your nose to dismiss your thoughts, still looking away from Beetlejuice. “So did you come just to make sure I don’t get these assignments turned in on time, or what?”
“Or…what.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him slide out of the mirror like a long snake, coming back up to full height standing next to your chair. “You know how lonely I get in the stupid Netherworld, so checking up on my faaaavorite little breather is a great way to fill my social meter.” He gets a little too close to your ear, stretching out that “favorite” into almost a growl, and you practically stop breathing trying to minimize the shiver that overtakes your body. Fuck this guy’s stupid sexy voice.
Hoping he didn’t notice your reaction, you turn your body to face him and stand up from your chair defiantly, face to face with his usual shit-eating grin. “What, you just don’t talk to anybody else in this house anymore? It feels like you only ever visit me nowadays, and I really have no idea what I’ve done to be cursed with the privilege of being your favorite human.”
Beetlejuice looks up thoughtfully, as though truly trying to figure out how this relationship came to be, bringing his face closer still to yours. “Well, you are the only person who’s ever voluntarily offered to spend quality time with me.” The answer is so earnest and straightforward, it steals the next witty retort from your lips and you just gawk at him, inches away. His eyes quickly dart down. “Hm, plus, you do have the best tits I’ve seen in a few centuries.” There it is.
You roll your eyes and groan, gently pushing his face away from you with your entire hand, only for him to lick a long stripe down your palm with his tongue. “Ugh, you are so gross!” You relent and move to wipe your hand on your shirt instead.
“Only for you, babes,” he coos with half-lidded eyes.
“That is demonstrably false.”
“Ok fine, how about: especially for you?”
“Well, it’s closer to the truth at least.” You fold your arms and cock your head. “What did you wanna do, then?”
“Oh, you should know better than to give me so much control here, (Y/N). There’s a lotta things I’d like to do with you.” He runs his tongue over fanged teeth teasingly, causing your heart to race once again. Beetlejuice really is a demon without a doubt, because he’s perfectly created my own personal hell. He must be some kind of divine punishment for my wrongdoings. A sexy demon who flirts with me endlessly, and I have to just be normal about it because there’s no way he’s serious. Maybe I burned down orphanages in a past life to deserve this.
“Yeah, you’re right. You’d probably turn me inside out or something fucked up if you got the freedom of choice. I’ll pick, then.” You quickly scan your brain for the quickest, most painless way to get him out of your hair. “How about a game?”
His face lights up with mischief. “Twister?”
“No,” you respond flatly.
“Spin the bottle?”
“No.”
“Hungry Hungry Hippos?”
“N-what? How is that even-“
“Oh, it’s not a euphemism, I just genuinely like that one.”
You sigh in defeat. “Ok, no to all of those. I was thinking more along the lines of The Quiet Game. You sit over there and be quiet, and I sit over here and get my work done, and if you stay quiet the whole time, we can watch a movie or something afterwards.” You say all of this knowing very well that it’s a pipe dream. Even if he were to be totally silent, Beetlejuice would have no problem finding new and inventive ways to torment you. He’s quite talented at that, as both of you are keenly aware.
Upon hearing your proposal, Beetlejuice furrows his brow and wrinkles his nose in a way similar to a petulant child about to throw a tantrum. “The Quiet Game? Are you serious, I-hmph, well, I can tell when I’m not wanted! I don’t need your pity games, I have plenty of exciting and important work things to do myself, like…um. Well, I’d have to check my dossier, but I’m sure there’s plenty of ‘em!” He spins away from you dramatically, drooping his shoulders to appear more pathetic. It works, unfortunately.
Your gaze softens slightly as you take a step towards him. “Beej, c’mon, it’s not that I don’t wanna hang out, I just really need to finish-“
“Yeah, yeah, human work, I know it.” He whirls around to poke at your chest accusingly. “Well, don’t let me be a roadblock to you, Professor Workaholic. I’ll remove myself from your esteemed presence. Just don’t come crawling back to me when you’ve worked yourself to death! I’ll be too busy. Filing shit. Or whatever.” His voice warbles at the end, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s doing it on purpose or not. He’s not the easiest guy to read, though you do think you catch a flash of purple streaking its way through his otherwise green hair. Without giving you time to respond, Beetlejuice pulls out a pair of scissors and snips a long hole in reality, stepping through it with one last pitiful look at you before flipping you off and stitching it up behind him, causing it to blip out of existence.
Just like that, he’s gone, and you quickly realize that you may not have wanted this outcome as much as you’d thought. He’s a bit abrasive, but he’s not wrong. A break would’ve been good for me, and spending time with him is always…a lot, but never boring. We always have fun together. You groan to yourself, frustrated that your brain has decided to come around only after Beetlejuice had already dipped. Damn, I shouldn’t have let him leave.
Seeing no point in taking a break on your own, you sigh, sit back down, and attempt to keep trucking through your work. It’s mind-numbingly dull, and you keep finding your brain wandering off to thoughts of Beetlejuice. His poor little demon schtick really does work, I can’t stand to think about how sad he looked as he was leaving. His big, expressive eyes…how cute and proud of himself he looked after successfully scaring me earlier…his pointy tongue running across those sharp fangs. Fuck… You find yourself blushing at the mere memory of that last one, your conscious mind pleading that you stop finding it as sexy as you do. But try as you may, there’s no changing the fact that Beetlejuice’s playful antics paired with his handsome face have spelled your doom. You’re down bad, worked up, and all alone. Well, looks like this work won’t be getting done because of Beetlejuice even without him here. Fuck it.
Giving in to your body’s demands, you stand up from the desk chair and head over to your bed, taking your pants off on the way and tossing them haphazardly into a corner to start gathering wrinkles. You have bigger things on your mind at the moment; specifically, imagining what Beetlejuice’s long tongue might feel like dragging across your skin. Feeling goosebumps beginning to rise already, you recline onto the bed and slip your hand into your underwear, wasting no time as you begin rubbing slow circles into your clit. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that you’re already fairly wet just from thinking about him, but then again, it’s not really that surprising. Ok, yeah, this is exactly what I needed. Well, maybe not exactly. If it was perfect, he’d really be here fucking me. The mere idea of that causes your fingers to speed up their ministrations, attempting to replicate the pleasure your mind is imagining in real time. You’ve been here before, touching yourself at the thought of having sex with that demon, but it’s starting to happen more often than you’d care to admit.
Ignoring your inner voice of shame, you focus your whole energy on getting yourself off, your hips twitching involuntarily as you continue. You’re audibly panting at this point, chasing your release at a fast pace. No need for slow pleasantries, this is just about me relieving some tension. Once I’m done, maybe I’ll actually be able to focus on something besides him. Maybe.
After a short while, you can quickly feel your release approaching as you continue to think of him. You’re so close, you can tell that you’re starting to lose yourself. You imagine his big brown eyes looking up at you, expression clouded with lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His pointed fangs scraping your inner thighs… “Beetlejuice…” His lewd face as you suck his cock... “Beetlejuice!”
“Well, well, well, look who decided to come crawling ba-“
Pulled from the brink, you practically jump straight up in the air from where you lay in bed as you hear a familiar voice, too authentic to be fantasy. You snap your head up to see Beetlejuice standing at the foot of your bed, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them and streaks of hot pink just starting to tint his hair.
You quickly regain your senses and pull up the covers. “B-BEETLEJUICE?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
Beetlejuice, however, is not as fast on the recovery. “I…you…” Slack-jawed and speechless, he stutters out a few syllables that somewhat resemble words before shaking his head as if to clear his brain. “H-hang on, you’re the one who summoned me!”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous, I…” Your world suddenly comes crashing down on you with the weight of a thousand bricks. “…did. Oh, God, I did…” Your face begins to turn red hot, the obvious implications of this scenario making you want to pass away on the spot. Nope, not even death would help me get out of this one.
You can practically see the gears in Beetlejuice’s head turning, albeit slowly. “You…you summoned me? You called out my name three times. While…” The sudden lightbulb moment is very visible as his hand moves to cover his mouth and dozens more streaks of neon pink suddenly overtake his hair, his face darkening to match. For a moment, you worry that you’ve broken him, only for the demon to finally meet your gaze with a goofy grin that only spreads wider by the moment. “You like me, don’t you?”
“Obviously, dipshit!” You grab a decorative pillow from next to you and toss it at his head, which he easily dodges. You can only think to react with righteous indignation, despite the fact that this situation really is entirely your fault. Probably a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the fact that you’d really love to melt into a puddle on the floor right now.
Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems far more elated about this than you’d ever expected, practically jumping around for joy. “You do! You really do like me! And it’s gotta be a lot, considering the fact that you like me enough to call out my name when you masturbate, heh. Do you do that often, or did I just do really well at seducing you today?” He strikes a mock sexy pose as if to prove his point.
Despite the added embarrassment of him calling you out so easily, you sit up straighter and raise an eyebrow inquisitively. “You’re…not mad?”
Beetlejuice looks practically bewildered at the very notion. “Me? Mad? Why would I be mad? I’ve been flirting with you so hard that I was offering to drop your panties since the day we met, and you think I’d be mad to see that you wanted it to happen just as bad as I did? Wow, you humans really are funny sometimes.”
“Wait, you were being serious? I thought you acted like that with everyone.”
He opens his mouth to defend himself, closes it after a moment of silence, and then moves to coyly rub his neck instead. “Ok, yeah, when you put it like that, I can see where the confusion comes in here. But yes, I meant everything I said! And I mean everything, babes.” He waggles his eyebrows for ridiculous punctuation.
You blink up at him in shock. No fucking way this is happening. No way is this demon freely admitting that he wants to have sex with me right back, no jokes anywhere to be seen. This must be a dream.
But Beetlejuice is still standing at the end of your bed, real as ever, and beginning to look more than a little bit antsy. “So, um…you gonna invite me to join you, or just make me watch? ‘Cuz to be honest, I, uh, wouldn’t hate either outcome here, so long as I can stay.”
You have a decision to make. You could say his name three times right now to banish him and never speak of this incident again as long as you both shall live and die, or you could finally get to live out the fantasies that have been plaguing you ceaselessly as of late. In the end, it isn’t even really a choice when the best answer is so easily clear.
Your eyes flick up to meet his. “Come here. On your knees.”
Beetlejuice’s face lights up at this command. “Oho, you don’t have to ask me twice!” With that, he practically dives to the floor at your bedside, looking up at you expectantly.
You smile slightly, turning to face Beetlejuice and slide your lower torso out from under the sheets to hang your legs off the side of the bed. Before he can say something lewd, you move to cup his face with your hands. Immediately, he seems taken aback at your gentle action from the stunned, blinking look on his face. Smiling softly, you begin rubbing his beard with your thumbs in a way that makes his eyes roll back into his head a bit. Boy, is he touch-starved. Let’s fix that.
Without another word, you lean in and bring your lips to his, giving him a fairly sweet kiss that he absolutely melts into. You never would’ve expected it of a demon, but Beetlejuice really does have the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and returns the energy you give him tenfold. It’s pretty cute how much a simple kiss seems to affect him, and you aren’t complaining as you feel his sharp teeth scrape your lips, either. You part your lips a bit to allow his tongue entrance, and he accepts the invitation immediately. His inhumanly long tongue slips in your mouth, wrapping around and rubbing against your tongue almost like a tentacle or other complex appendage. You scrunch up your face at the intrusion, not bad, but strange how it feels as though it’s investigating your mouth of its own accord, prodding and rubbing at you. It’s definitely different from kissing a regular human, but it’s pretty hot, so you’re not complaining by any means. After a few moments, you feel the need to break away and come up for air, panting for breath while Beetlejuice just kneels there in front of you motionless, like he’s just had a particularly amazing out-of-body experience.
After getting a good amount of air into your lungs, you give a small fond smile at his flustered demeanor. “Oh, Beetlejuice, I’m sorry I was so dismissive of you earlier,” you soothe, moving one hand to stroke his neon hair. “You were really just looking out for me, weren’t you?”
He audibly gulps. “Y-yeah…”
“Aw, you really are sweet. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you, baby.”
The more affectionate words you say, the less composed he is as he speaks, made clear by his bright red face and dopey grin. “Heh, s’okay…I kinda like it when you’re mean to me…” Beetlejuice averts his gaze and sinks his face into your hand as he says this. His words are so muffled that they’re almost unintelligible, but you manage to make them out just fine.
“Oh? You do? You really like it when I’m mean to you?” He nods his head quickly, still looking down in embarrassment. Well, this is already going better than I could’ve ever hoped. “Hm, I think I can do that for you. How about you show me how good that tongue really feels, to start off?” You spread your legs suggestively, his head at the perfect level.
Beetlejuice bites his lip in anticipation, his shyness melting away as he’s reminded of getting you off. “Oh yeah, I’ll show you, alright. You have no idea what you’re in for, babes. I’m well-known for my skills in this field, you’ll have the time of y-mmph!” His blathering is interrupted by you grabbing the black tie that hangs around his neck and tugging him closer to you with a swift motion, drawing a whimper from the demon.
“Can’t talk and eat pussy at the same time.”
“Mm, y-you underestimate my abilities…” Beetlejuice always has to have the last word, but he at least doesn’t waste any more time. Tentatively, he slides both of his clawed hands up from your knees to your inner thighs, spreading your legs a bit more to allow more room for his head to fit between them. Your underwear is still on, albeit completely soaked through, which he seems to note with a quiet smug look up at you. In one swift move, he hooks two clawed fingers from each hand around the narrowest strip of the fabric on the sides of your thighs and pulls the garment down slowly, never once breaking eye contact. You’re filled with a nerve-wracking sensation of nakedness as he does this, not just physically, but on a deeper level too. You never realized how deeply revealing it is to have someone watching your expression so shamelessly, gauging your exact reaction as he undresses you. It makes you feel transparent and fully see-through, like a ghost.
Finally, Beetlejuice slips your underwear off of your body fully, twirling it around one of his fingers in pride before pulling back and slingshotting it away with reckless abandon. Returning his head to rest right between your thighs, where there is nothing blocking him from his goal now. You half-expect a stupid remark now that he’s finally right where he’s been aching to be, but he takes you by surprise by just staring at your body in silent reverence for a moment. It’s almost eerie to hear such a long silence from Beetlejuice, who’s made it his full-time career to annoy you up to this point, but it’s kind of flattering at the same time. After a few beats, he seems to shake himself out of his own stupor and looks up at you with a more familiar lopsided smirk.
Before either of you can say anything, he seems to remember that he was given a job to do and begins to unfurl that tongue that you’ve been daydreaming so much about. At full length, it’s about a foot long, forked and striped, always looking like it’s moving of its own accord like a dark slimy tentacle. You’ve seen him loll it out before, so you know good and well what it looks like, but that was always when Beetlejuice was trying to entertain you by acting silly or creepy. In a situation like this, however, it was almost enough to make you feel faint. Consequences be damned, this is the best decision I’ve ever made.
Ever a creature of impatience, Beetlejuice leans down to lick a long, slow stripe starting at the bottom of your pussy and working his way to the top, right up the middle. As soon as he makes contact, you feel as though an electric shock has shot through your lower abdomen. The first thing that your mind registers is how surprisingly cold his tongue is. Sometimes you forget that he’s not a living human and doesn’t have the natural warmth that you’ve come to expect from people. Instead, his body has a natural chilliness to it, and you’ve wondered before if that’s a demon trait or just a Beetlejuice-specific quirk. Either way, the feeling of his long, cold tongue on your pussy is delightfully shocking enough to excite you even more than you could’ve ever expected. He gives another long lick and your hips buck in time without any input from your conscious mind, and you cover your mouth to stifle a moan. Is it just because I was already close, or is Beetlejuice’s tongue actually just the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life?
You don’t get much time to consider this, however, as Beetlejuice notices your full-body reaction, chuckles darkly, and quickly dives back in for more. This time, he’s in it to prove himself, pushing more of his long tongue out to efficiently swirl all around your pussy, going at a speed that would be impossible for a normal human with a normal-length tongue. It’s practically chaotic, but it feels so all-consumingly good that you throw your head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. You reach to grab at his hair, which only seems to spurn him on to move faster, his tongue practically spasming as it writhes against you. It brushes over your inner thighs, your entrance, your clit, practically all of the above at once because of its length, and it’s starting to bring you back to your precipice at an alarming rate.
“F-fuck, Beej…don’t stop, whatever you do, please...” You pull at his hair with more force, putting some power behind your command and drawing a needy whine from the demon. To his credit, he doesn’t stop, and seems to be doing his best to speed up his already-fast work.
If his expression is anything to go by, Beetlejuice seems to take a deep pride in how greatly he’s affecting you in such little time, and he whimpers out little words in between his ministrations. “You-“ He laps at your clit with his pointed tip. “Taste-“ He teases your entrance with the broad side of his tongue. “Delicious…” He draws most of his tongue back into his mouth, only to learn forward to suck on your clit with his whole mouth, his beard tickling your inner thighs as he does.
You’re beyond the point of words, but your thighs tighten around his head to wordlessly show him how close you are. You close your eyes to find a moment’s reprieve from the overstimulation, but when you reopen them, you inadvertently lock eyes with Beetlejuice as he continues to suckle at your clit. You’re blown away by the intense way he looks up at you; his eyelashes are obscuring his eyes in a way that makes him look absolutely beautiful, and weirdly enough, almost sweet and innocent at this angle. This is the moment when you distantly realize you’ve fully lost your mind, but you don’t have long to come to terms with your newfound insanity as your orgasm builds at an exponential rate. Suppressing a lewd sound, you grab fistfuls of his hair, grappling for any sort of leverage as your hips begin to buck against his face and your orgasm is suddenly crashing down on you with the force of a tidal wave. You lean down and wrap your arms around him for fear that you may topple over, still keeping the same tight grip on his hair, which causes his head to pull back forcefully and his face to turn upwards. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out the pleasure, eventually releasing his hair when you collapse against his form, your arms draping over his back and chest pressed to his head, feeling boneless and overwhelmingly good. You lean against him for a good few moments, trying to catch your breath and sit back up at the same time.
Beetlejuice stirs slightly beneath you. “No need to rush. I’m doing great right where I am right now. Really, take your time.” You raise an eyebrow, only to quickly realize that your chest is, in fact, pressed directly up against his face. You snort, but remain still for the moment. The only movements in your body are the intense thumps of your heart and the gentle stroking of your hands in Beetlejuice’s hair. After what feels like minutes, you finally pull away from him and prop yourself upright to survey the situation. Specifically, you take in eyefuls of the demon trembling below you, who is looking up at you with a hazy Cheshire grin, licking his lips and very obviously straining against his pants.
You grin salaciously down at where Beetlejuice kneels, reveling in how much you’ve already affected him. “Aw, I bet you’ve been so horny this whole time and still ate me out first without a word. What a good boy.”
His eyes widen. “Fuck, babes…” Beetlejuice openly palms at his clothed dick, making you start to feel warmth between your legs yet again. “S-say that again.”
“That’s not how you ask for something.”
His eyes dart downward as he lets out a shaky sound beneath you, then slowly tilts his head up to meet your gaze. “Please.” The way he whines out the plea is enough to get you a little bit drunk on power. Jesus Christ, this man is gonna be the death of me.
“That’s my good boy.” You hold back a shiver at his immediate and audible reaction. “You really must have wanted this for awhile, the way you’re doing everything I tell you to do so well.”
Beetlejuice moans softly, making no effort to stifle it. “W-well, you did summon me, doll. It’s my job now to make sure you’re totally happy with my work. So, whaddaya say…satisfied with my professional work ethic yet?” He sticks the tip of his tongue out teasingly, eyes lidded.
You giggle at his antics, just as present during sex as they are always. If anything, you’re impressed with his restraint since, so far, he hasn’t pulled any wild reality-bending nonsense to fuck with you while he’s…well, fucking you. “Oh, absolutely. I’d give you a five star review on LinkedIn, no doubt about it.”
He snickers, smiling so wide that his fangs are easily visible. “Hell yeah.”
Looking at him fondly, you move your right hand to untangle itself from his hair and move to scratch at his beard, which Beetlejuice leans into appreciatively. “But y’know, I’m not selfish. You seem a little worked up there, huh? I’d never leave my favorite demon to deal with that all by himself, especially after how good you were to me.” Your hand moves down from his beard, coming to rest on his chest. “How’s about it then, bug boy? You want my hands on your cock?”
Beetlejuice’s big brown eyes are as wide as saucers, and his hair is so vibrantly hot pink that you’re sure it would be blinding in better lighting. “Yes. Please. Oh God, (Y/N), I need you so bad. If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna die and go to whatever’s after the Netherworld, I’m serious.”
“Well, I definitely don’t want that!” You sigh fondly at his dramatics, then pat the space on the bed next to you. “Come on up, I want you right here with me. And lose some of those clothes on the trip up, you’re making me feel underdressed for the occasion.”
“Y-yeah, I can do that.” He wasn’t lying, you really don’t have to ask him twice. He immediately begins shrugging off his iconic striped jacket and slips his suspenders from his shoulders, leaving only his partially-unbuttoned undershirt and tie on below it. He crawls up onto the bed and sits back next to you, mirroring your posture with an air that’s much more shy. Once he’s up, he unbuttons his striped pants and pulls them down enough for his growing erection to be free of their confines, though still trapped in his underwear (also striped, points for staying true to theme). You’d have expected Beetlejuice to be overly confident and full of himself in a situation like this, but now that you’re both in it, this reality-bending, all-powerful demon looks…small. Nervous. Averting your gaze. You feel a need to reassure him overtake you.
“Hey, Beetlejuice? You alright? I know I talk big, but…we don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Beetlejuice snaps his head up towards you with a wary expression. “No, it’s not that I…I mean, it’s just that…even though I say it, I’ve never…really…” He pauses his jumbled words to collect his thoughts. “It’s different…to have attention on yourself…I guess.” He sighs in frustration and looks away. “Ugh, this is ridiculous. I do want this, I swear I do. I’m just being…stupid.”
“Hey, this isn’t stupid. I’m serious, don’t say that.” You never would’ve expected this level of self-doubt and anxiety from the demon that literally held everybody else in this house captive during a temper tantrum once, but it just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its war crimes. “What can I do to make it better?”
Beetlejuice looks back to you with a vulnerable expression that you wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “Just…keep doing what you normally do, I guess. Like I said, the problem here is me.” He’s quiet for a contemplative moment. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud, so if you ever tell anybody, I’ll feed you alive to a sandworm. For real.”
“I won’t, I promise.” You cross your heart for good measure, making his eyes soften their wary gaze.
“Ok, the thing is, most people have never really…liked me. I know, I couldn’t believe it either, heh. But it’s true, everyone that’s ever summoned me has just used me up for my power and hated me the whole time while doing it. Even if I tried to roll over and do whatever it took to appeal to them, it never worked, so I figured, might as well just do whatever I want if they’ll hate me either way. So that’s what I’ve done, and it made me kinda…not like me, either. I mean, my own mother thought I was a disappointment, so that’s pretty pathetic, right? The closest I got to a friendship was when Lydia summoned me, but I went and messed that up, too. But…” He pushes his forehead against your shoulder so he won’t have to look you in the eye, purple quickly overtaking his hair. “You seemed to like being around me, right? At least a little bit? And I guess I just didn’t want you to see all of me and decide you…didn’t like it, like everyone else. It’s one thing if I do something for you, but I guess it’s…weirdly scarier to let you do things for me. If you do, it’s like I’m not being…useful, or something. See, you can see how ridiculous this sounds, so that’s why it’s just a me being dumb problem.”
You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Beetlejuice’s first words from vulnerable standpoint with you. You don’t want to say the wrong thing and make him regret ever opening up, so you ponder all of the occasions that you’ve spent time with him and bring your hands up to pet his head reassuringly. He can get on my nerves, but for all of his button pushing, I always look forward to his company. He’s silly, and fun, and even unexpectedly sweet at times. “Well…I can agree that it’s a you being wrong problem, at least. Because I do love being around you, Beetlejuice. And I’m sorry that people have made you feel less-than in the past, but I think they’re idiots for missing out on the fun of getting to know you. You don’t need to be “useful” to keep me from leaving, I want to do nice things for you too, no conditions attached. I like you. I want you. You’re perfect as you are.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead.
If Beetlejuice disagrees, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, trembling enough that you can feel it against your body. “I love you.”
You try to hide how taken aback you are by his words, electing to wrap your arms around him to conceal it. “I love you too.” And the two of you stay just like that for an impossible to determine amount of time, just holding each other gently. You feel wetness against your neck but say nothing and silently hope that you’re doing this right. He loves me. He really said it himself.
After some time, Beetlejuice pulls back and you can finally look at that cute face you’re so fond of again. His expression is sheepish and his hair painted in a gradient of light pink to magenta, tinges of purple confined to the tips of his hair at this point. “Sorry, I ruined the mood there. Not a lotta guys can have a breakdown with their pants down, but as you can see, I am a man of many talents.” His voice is soft, but sounding steadier and more comfortable than it did a few moments before.
You chuckle softly. “Hey, you didn’t ruin anything. I still had no plans of using you for myself only to leave you high and dry.”
“Heh, you mean it?”
“Of course, I mean, as long as you’re up for it.”
“Oh hell yeah, I can bare my soul and still be horny. I can multitask.” A familiar grin lights up his face at the sound of your laughter, his usual personality returning to him bit by bit.
“Good, I still had a lot of things I wanted to do with you. But seriously, if you change your mind at any point, please just tell me. I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself, so if you’re not ready, that’s ok.” Part of you realizes that he’s an all-powerful demon who could easily put a stop to anything at a moment’s notice if he felt like it, but another part told you to be extra kind and considerate with him. You want him to know that although he could forcibly end anything he disliked with his powers, he didn’t have to feel the need to use force. You would always respect the power of his words just as much.
He raises his eyebrows. “Heh, look at you, caring about me ‘n’ shit. That works for me, but what, are you plannin’ on tying me up and blindfolding me? Some real kinky shibari shit?”
You pretend to think about it, tapping your chin. “Hm, maybe not this time.” You begin kissing along Beetlejuice’s jawline, stubble scratching at your face as you do. You take the moment to scooch the two of you away from the edge and closer to the center of the bed, with him sitting up against your pillows. Once he’s comfortable, you crawl over to straddle his lap, causing him to groan out a beautiful sound below you. You finally remove your top, ridding yourself of your last piece of clothing before getting to work on him.
“Nice,” Beetlejuice half-whispers, having been watching you slowly peel your shirt off as though he were studying for a test.
“Hey, sounds like I might’ve secured myself that five star review too.”
“Oh fuck yeah, by tits alone. Don’t get me started on everything else, they haven’t even invented a grading scale that goes that high yet.”
You giggle, leaning down to softly kiss his lips and scratch at his beard. Beetlejuice immediately melts to your touch and tilts his head up, giving you easy access to begin trailing downward slowly with your kisses. You move to place kisses along his neck, drinking in the soft sounds that are forming in his throat and causing your lips to vibrate ever so slightly from the rumbles beneath them. Taking your sweet time, you kiss down to just above his collarbone and begin loosening his tie to get at him better. Once it’s wide enough, you slip it overtop his head and let it fall onto the sheets, then you unbutton the last few buttons of his undershirt so that that can slide off of his shoulders as well. Mimicking him from earlier, you chuck the shirt away haphazardly with a satisfied grin.
“Hey, watch the suit, doll,” he quips, with absolutely no bite behind the words. If anything, he just seems a bit breathless. I didn’t think he needed to breathe. Is he just doing that to egg me on?
“I’d rather watch what’s under it, thanks.” You scrunch up your nose playfully and return to your barrage of kisses, happy to now have his bare torso to work with.
“Wow. I’d normally roll my eyes at that, but I’m actually kinda flattered that you’re using lines that are so dumb, they sound like they came from me.”
“Yeah, your Beetlejuice-isms are contagious.” Without his suit, you can better admire that his stomach and arms are a good mix of soft and round and chubby but also pretty strong, giving him a really cute body that you’re getting a bit sick of not having your hands on. Immediately moving to rectify the situation, you pepper kisses and lightly suckle along Beetlejuice’s collarbone. You relish in the heavy rise and fall of his chest under you before moving downward to flick your tongue across his nipple. You’re immediately rewarded with a high-pitched gasp as he arches his back slightly, sending you the cutest pleading look right after. You’re unsure if he’s aware of how strong that kind of positive reinforcement is, but he’ll probably figure it out quickly since you’re already dragging your tongue across his nipple again, bringing one hand up to brace yourself against his bicep and trailing the other down his stomach with one slow, featherlight touch.
Beetlejuice snorts out a giggle between his more lewd sounds and covers his stomach protectively. “H-hey, careful now, I’m ticklish…and add that to the list of things you are not allowed to share with anyone, ever, under any circumstances.”
You chuckle. “I promise.” He looks utterly unconvinced but just pouts his lip wordlessly in embarrassment. I’m really not sure if he knows how cute he is and uses it to his advantage or if this just comes naturally to him. Either option is pretty scary. You move your hand back farther down still to finally graze the top of his clothed dick, fingertips dancing lightly against his strained underwear as you move to fully suck on his other nipple.
“Ughh, you’re such a tease,” he chokes out, moving to cover his face with one hand.
You frown. “Hey, don’t hide from me. It’s not fair if you get to look me in the eye while eating my pussy if I can’t do the same for you when I’m being a cocktease.” Begrudgingly, he grumbles something unintelligible and moves his arm out of his face, looking down at you with faux irritation, causing your smile to only widen. “Wow, your face is almost brighter than your hair right now. Wonder what made that happen.” As you speak, you drag your fingers down his shaft with even more pressure, causing him to make a choked sound. Your hips move to grind down on the thigh that you’re currently sitting astride before you can even think twice about it, the quick friction making you bite your lip to hold in a gasp.
“B-babes, I’m begging ya.” Beetlejuice looks unspeakably horny below you, but you can’t quite resist the thrill of making him work for it.
“Huh, that’s weird, cuz I didn’t hear actually any begging at all, Beetlejuice. But that is a good idea, maybe you should try it.”
“Ohhh, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”
You bark out a laugh at his immediate and visibly desperate response. If he had any pride before, it seems it had vanished the moment that you first touched him. Taking pity, you finally remove his bottoms completely, feeling quiet satisfaction when his cock is freed and you get to see just how hard he really is. It stands fully erect and leaking precum, matching the color of his flushed face perfectly.
“Y’know, when you actually put in the effort, you’re pretty good at playing nice,” you coo, dragging a single finger up his length from bottom to top.
Beetlejuice represses a shiver and instead lets out a low growl. “Careful, I can still flip you over and rail you into the bed ‘til you can’t speak if I feel like it.”
“Not that a little power struggle with you doesn’t sound awesome, but I have a feeling you won’t do that tonight. Like you said, you want me to be mean to you.” You punctuate your sentence by grabbing his twitching dick and lightly squeezing, enough to make him squirm. “You want to see what I’ll do to you if I have control.” As if challenging him to say otherwise, you begin slowly pumping his cock, looking him directly in the eye as you run your hand up and down his shaft.
Beetlejuice breaks eye contact first, unable to hold your intense gaze as he’s slowly pleasured. “M-maybe, but I still have a good memory. Next time I’m in a more dominating kind of mood, you’ll b-be sorry y-mmph!” Whatever he was about to say is quickly silenced by you running your thumb over the slit of his cock and then immediately picking up the pace of your strokes, causing Beetlejuice to descend into a cacophony of moans that he isn’t even attempting to keep at a reasonable volume level.
You pause your ministrations. “Shh, Beej, other people live here! You want Charles to know you’re getting your shit rocked all the way from his home office? Or the Maitlands in the attic?”
He tilts his head to lean further back into your soft pillows, looking as though he’s truly considering his position on the idea. “Mm, well, my brain is telling me you want to hear a no, but my humiliation kink is just giving me a resounding yes.” This little shit.
You sigh and shake your head, only to catch something you’d forgotten on the bed not long ago out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you’re struck with a wondrous idea. You grab Beetlejuice’s black tie from where it had been strewn across the bed and ball it up in your hand. Beetlejuice watches you carefully with a confused expression, tilting his head at your handiwork. Once finished, your eyes glisten with a mischief usually more common to his face.
“Open.” With a single word, you cause Beetlejuice’s entire expression to shift into one of shock, but certainly not in a bad way. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say a word, only shoots you what you can only describe as a proud, horny grin and opens his mouth wide, saliva practically dripping from his lips and fangs. This turns you on way more than expected, and you find yourself mentally debating with yourself on whether it’s sexy in a gross way or gross in a sexy way, before ultimately coming back to your senses and stuffing the tie into his mouth as a gag before you could think on this any further.
Beetlejuice adjusts the tie with his tongue to properly fit. He tries to speak, but the only thing that ends up coming out is something like, “Mm fhh dmmm.”
You giggle at his attempt. “Well, if you need to tell me anything important, I think you’ll need to take that out first.” He narrows his eyes in a look that very clearly communicates yeah, no shit. But he doesn’t make any attempt to remove it, so it must not have been very important. Satisfied with your new setup, you return your hand to his cock, pumping as slowly as you had been in the beginning to get him started.
Beetlejuice, however, is not having it. He nearly knocks you off of where you’re straddling him by violently bucking his hips up into your hand. You carefully reposition your naked body as he finds a way to smirk at you through his gag, because of course he can do that. If he can’t make noise, he can easily find another way to make his impatience crystal clear to you.
“I’m sure you think you’re funny, but the more time you spend playing bull-rider, the less likely I am to let you cum anytime soon.” Your words immediately cause his hips to twitch upwards, but he seems to keep himself under better control this time. Of course, knowing Beetlejuice, he’ll probably do it again within the minute if he thinks it’ll push your buttons and/or result in you possibly edging him. You decide to cut him off at the pass by grabbing his dick and vigorously jacking him off without any warning. His eyes practically bug out of his head in surprise before high-pitched moans and squeals start to pour out of him, significantly quieted by the gag in his mouth but still plenty audible enough for you to enjoy. And enjoy you do, keeping up your brutal pace as he squirms deliciously under your touch. Not content to be the only one taken by surprise, he grabs at your chest and begins squeezing with reckless abandon, rolling your nipples under his clawed fingers as he lets out a stifled cry. Between focusing on giving the handjob of your life, drinking in Beej’s reactions, and having your nipples roughly played with, you don’t even realize that you’re rocking your naked pussy against his thigh until you can feel your own arousal rising again.
Though you’re certain you could reach another orgasm if you just keep at it, you decide to slow down so your brain doesn’t fizzle out and forget to focus on making your demon happy. Instead, you lift your body up to bring your face right up to his, slowing your hand motions. Before anything else can happen, you spare yourself a moment to really look at Beetlejuice’s face from slightly below, and what you see in his eyes makes you almost cum untouched. He’s desperately close, almost lost in the sensations you’ve wrapped him in, but still anchored tight to you by gaze alone. If he wasn’t gagged, he would almost certainly be begging again, if he could get any coherent words in between his moans. As it stands, he looks like he’d give you anything in the world right now as long as you keep looking at him and keep touching him. And you’re happy to oblige.
“Gonna cum, Beej? You look preeeetty close.”
He cries out a muffled sound at your words, his hips practically shaking as he wordlessly begs for more, his pleading eyes inches away from your own, scanning your expression for any sign of acquiescence. Fun as it may be to play with him, I shouldn’t toy with him too much for right now. Wouldn’t really be fair after how well he’s treated me.
“Alright.” With a single word, you cease the cruel slow strokes that you’d been teasing him with and swiftly return to the frenzied, messy pumping of his cock that made him arch his back and practically scream beneath his gag. You’re relentless this time, keeping up the sloppy pace while you bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. You would’ve tilted his head to make him look at you, but he’s already been locked onto you since the beginning and you don’t think you’d be able to make him look away now if you tried. You feel dizzy and it’s intoxicating. “Cum for me, Beetlejuice.”
With a moan that almost renders his gag useless and the distant unexplained sound of fabric ripping, Beetlejuice cums hard, coating your hand and belly as you’re leaned over him in a fluid that resembles human semen way more than you actually expected. After fully finishing, he collapses back for a moment, removing the gag from his mouth himself and catching his metaphorical breath. You allow your own worked-up body to lay more comfortably against his chest while he comes down from everything.
“Ok, don’t be mad, I think I may have ripped up your mattress a little bit.” He opens one eye to peek out at you, as though actually expecting you to be angry with him. Sure enough, you look at where his hands were gripping the sheets on either side of him and see distinct, deep claw marks raking down the surface of the bed.
You hum noncommittally to yourself. “Well, I can’t really be mad about something that boosts my ego like that.” Instead you look down at the mess that’s been made of you and consider what to do about it.
Beetlejuice’s eyes follow yours down. “It does glow in the dark, if you were wondering.” His lips twitch upwards, looking quite proud of his fun fact.
“No fuckin’ way.”
“Oh?” Beetlejuice offers a smug smile, then dims the dull lights of your room with his powers until they’ve fully shut off. Sure enough, your entire stomach, hand, and part of your bed is glowing a fluorescent green, his signature shade. He flashes a proud smile at the sight of it. “Told ya so!”
“Ok, color me impressed.” You swipe some of the liquid from your stomach with a finger, studying it inquisitively. “Hey BJ, are you radioactive? If I taste this, will I die?”
Beetlejuice’s face flushes so badly, you can even make it out in this poor lighting. “Uh, no, but I might…”
“Oh, awesome.” You stick the finger of glowing cum in your mouth, relishing the taste of your favorite demon. It’s not too different from a human’s, but it does have a faint taste of sweetness, almost like green apple candy or something. It was certainly fitting for him. “Hey, bring those lights back up, I’m dying to see your mood ring hair unlock new shrimp colors when you see me licking up your cum.”
Wordlessly, Beetlejuice brings back enough light to see each other well in. You’re a bit disappointed to not see any new colors yet undiscovered by man in his hair, but in reality, you may have maxed out the hot pink’s vibrancy today. What you are surprised to see, however, is Beetlejuice’s dick already hardening again as you take another lick of his cum from your palm.
You blink in surprise. “Woah, how are you already getting horny again that fast? Do you have some kind of penis-based superpower that you’ve somehow never mentioned despite you being yourself?”
Beetlejuice lowly chuckles to himself, making shivers run down your back at the tone. “Eh, sort of? See, demons aren’t like humans in that we can all go multiple rounds, regardless of equipment, no problemo. We very often have enormously high libidos that a delicate little breather like you could never hope to keep up with, but hey, you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows like a suggestive idiot.
You absentmindedly play with the tufts of hair behind his ears. “Well, you got me there. I’m down for another round if you are. I’ve wanted to ride you for months now, so the spirit is certainly willing.”
“Fuck yeah I am! I’m beyond willing! As long you know that I’ve got the stamina of a cheetah and can totally outlast you on this.”
“I’m pretty sure cheetahs are known for their great speed but awful stamina.”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t give a shit.”
You give an involuntary snort-laugh at his quick retort, causing the demon to beam at you with unmistakable adoration, gently pushing some loose hair out of your face. It’s almost off-putting to see such an unashamedly wholesome expression plastered across the face of a supernatural being that has spent his existence being feared by so many, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t also bring you joy unlike any other to be lucky enough to see him like this. So many people didn’t deserve to, and you aren’t exactly sure what you did to become worthy of the privilege, but you won’t question it.
“Here, allow me to level the playing field,” Beetlejuice says, snapping his fingers. You whip your head around the room, but nothing appears to have changed.
“Uh, what exactly did you do?”
“Oh, nothing. I just soundproofed the room for a little bit. I wanna hear you scream, babes.” His eyes narrow at you as his arms engulf you in a light embrace, pulling you closer. His claws come up to rest on your shoulders, the pinpricks pressing against your skin and threatening to break it.
You raise a teasing eyebrow. “You…couldn’t have done that from the beginning?”
“I like the thrill of possibly getting caught, sue me! But hey, if this is what it takes to get you loud, well, I’ll make the sacrifices that I gotta.”
“You really wanna hear me that bad, huh?” Beetlejuice shakes his head so hard it looks as though it should be making a cartoonish sound effect. “Well, I’d honestly love to hear you without that gag too, so I guess we’re in the same boat.” You lift yourself back up to better straddle his naked body again, hovering just above his erect cock and flashing him a sly smile. “Now fuck me, demon boy.”
Beetlejuice’s eyes widen. “Oho, with pleasure.” More than happy to comply, he grabs onto your hips with his clawed hands and gently but firmly maneuvers you down to line up with the head of his dick.
Slowly, you sink down onto him, causing the demon to whine softly below you. After a moment, you’ve fully lowered yourself down and sheathed him inside of you, a full but not at all uncomfortable fit. You give it a moment of stillness to adjust before rocking your hips a bit, feeling his dick twitch inside of your cunt as you do. He immediately reacts by moaning loudly and snapping his hips up against you like a man possessed.
“Fuck, Beej…” You groan at almost a growl pitch, the feeling of him moving inside you almost too much at once.
“Mm…could do better…that sound was only maybe a three outta ten. I’ll have to-mmph-up my game.” God, it is just like this guy to make pleasuring me into a game. I guess I’m not complaining, though. As if on cue with your thoughts, Beetlejuice grabs your back just below the shoulder blades to quickly pull you in close to his chest, his claws applying enough force to definitely leave some red marks in their wake but not enough to hurt badly. The sudden dig of his claws only causes you to start rocking your hips at a faster pace, making it plainly obvious how much you enjoy him handling you so roughly.
“Y-you can try, but I doubt you’ll be able to hear me over yourself soon.”
Beetlejuice responds with silence, which you’ve learned usually means he’s planning to do something that he doesn’t want you to know about. From where you’re pressed against his upper chest, you can’t quite see his face either unless you craned your neck to look up towards him. You don’t slow down your speed, but do feel a sense of horny dread wash over you at his continued silence. Suddenly and without warning, you feel sharp fangs sink into the vulnerable back of your neck where your shoulder connects. It’s so unexpected and hurts so good that you erupt into a chorus of shuddering gasps, unable to even form sentences as Beetlejuice keeps biting and sucking at your neck. His claws keep your squirming body in place as he continues his barrage, and you feel him smiling wider and wider into your skin the more noisy that you get. It’s so good, so overwhelmingly good, having him inside of you while also using those fangs that you love so much on you at the same time. You’re struck with the realization that you can’t let him play you like a fiddle so well without fighting back. Before you can think twice, you turn your face into the crook of his neck right above his collarbone and bite down on the skin even harder than he’s biting at you. You may not have fangs, but you are determined nonetheless.
“Jesus FUCK, (Y/N)!” Beetlejuice is forced to pause his bites to yelp a few similar exclamations. “Ohoho, you’re lucky I’m a demon freak who doesn’t mind being ripped a new collarbone, cuz wow.”
An apology half-forms in your mouth before you realize that that was probably his weird way of complimenting you rather than sarcasm. “Well, m-maybe now, after this, you’ll get to go through what I went through every time you flashed your stupid teeth in public.”
Beetlejuice pulls his head back so his face is in your view again, and you slow your rocking against him just a bit out of curiosity. He’s sporting a growing smile that looks practically delighted.
“Hold up, were you really that into my fangs from all the way back when? You had it that bad?”
You flush at his wording of a situation that you, personally, do not find as humorous as he seems to. “Hey, it’s not like it was just that. It was…all of you, I guess. Every little thing you did turned me on basically all the time, and, as you can imagine, it was a living nightmare.” You realize that that doesn’t exactly make you sound less like a pervert, but it also doesn’t help that his cock is still twitching inside of you and you can’t exactly think straight at the moment.
“Wow, so every time I was around you, you were just being a grade A horndog!” Beetlejuice cackles at his own joke. He is the only one laughing. “Aww, looks like we’re more alike than we thought! Cuz, I mean, you were doing the exact same thing to me all the time, so. Fair’s fair.”
You groan. “Oh my God, you were literally going through the exact same thing? We could’ve fucked ages ago and put ourselves out of that misery!”
He snorts. “Hey, it’s fine. Y’know what? I’m glad it turned out just how it did. Honest.” Your starry-eyed demon lifts a claw to gently cup your jawline.
You put your own hand on top of his. “Yeah, same here.”
Beetlejuice grins, then his face immediately shifts. “All right, I’ve done a lot of talking and now I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you have visions of the Netherworld. Boobs in my mouth, please.”
“HA!” You practically double over at his sudden mood shift, wiping a tear from your eye. “I’ll hold you to that, big guy.”
Before you can even start rocking, Beetlejuice takes things into his own hands and starts thrusting up into you at a fairly speedy pace. He’s holding your hips to keep you balanced, as well as maneuvering them to drive himself into you better. The angle that he’s hitting you at is already starting to make you see stars, and you roll your hips to meet him in time. Apparently, he was not kidding about the boobs in his mouth request, as he leans his head forward to latch onto your left nipple, sucking and ever-so-slightly grazing it with his sharp teeth. To make matters worse, he grabs the other with his claw and begins rolling his thumb over it, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, just as he did the last time his mouth was on you. It’s all so good, you can already feel your orgasm building again.
“Oh, don’t stop, Beej, that’s so good…” You’re nearly at the precipice again, focusing your energy on getting up and over. The image in front of you is certainly helping get you there, as Beetlejuice is truly giving it all he has at the moment. His expression shows that he’s right on the edge as well, as you focus on his beautiful brown eyes looking up at you with unmistakable love and lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His long tongue wrapping itself around your nipple… “Beetlejuice…” His cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you... “B-!”
Suddenly, you find two hands clamped over your mouth with surprising force. “Don’t.” The word comes out as a snarl next to your ear, taking you by surprise and sending a shiver down your whole frame. Before you can recover, an erratic snap of his hips sends you hurtling over the edge, an orgasm so intense that it makes your ears ring and your other senses dull for the duration. You moan loudly against his hand, which hasn’t yet moved and doesn’t do much to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Moments later, Beetlejuice moves to grab onto your hips and presses deep into you, holding you in place above him and filling you up with more of his otherworldly cum, all the while letting out gasping moans of his own like a man drowning. After filling you to his satisfaction, his arms fall limply to his side and you slump against him, both dazed and overstimulated. You catch your breath while Beetlejuice seems to be going through a factory reset, his eyes wide open and blinking harshly.
After gathering himself, he finally speaks. “Babes, I love you, but you really gotta get this name thing down if you don’t want me to suddenly poof away when I’m balls-deep inside of ya.”
You look at him sheepishly. “Heh, yeah, sorry. Good save though!” You finally lift yourself off of his dick, rolling your body haphazardly off of him to lay down at his side more comfortably.
He snorts. “Yeah, I bet you enjoyed me putting a stop to that. I’m thinking next time, I act like that from the start and we’ll see whose better at bossing who around.”
You begin lightly tracing patterns on his chest, resting your head on his bicep. “Oh yeah? And what if I wasn’t finished bossing you around yet?”
“Well, then you can peg me about it the next time!”
You giggle at his response while simultaneously filing it away for another day. Smiling into his bare skin, you feel your heartbeat begin to stabilize after quite a long period of elevation. Beetlejuice is still chilly to the touch, but in a way that unexpectedly comforts you, like a soft pillow after being flipped over in the middle of the night.
“Can we flip?” The demon’s sudden request paired with his big eyes meeting yours takes you out of your musings.
“You want to lay on me? Sure, c’mere.” You move to your back, patting your chest for him to lay on. He doesn’t hesitate, snuggling his head into a cozy position on your chest, his left cheek pressing up against your collarbone and his tussled pastel pink hair barely reaching up to tickle your neck. He’s in the perfect spot for you to drape your arms across his frame protectively, your hands coming up to gently rest on his shoulder and the side of his face. Your hands are tired and still, but even in a passive state, you find them needing to touch Beetlejuice without asking for your input. Even if it’s just the comforting brush of your fingers against his jawline, you can’t resist the ache to be close to him.
Beetlejuice leans into your touch. “Mm…you feel so nice…” He tilts his head so that his ear is pressed against your chest and practically melts against you. “Heh, I’ll never get used to that sound. Never thought I’d get to hear it so close, but it’s even better like this.” Your heartbeat instinctively quickens just a bit at his comment, and you feel Beetlejuice’s lips curl up in a smile. “Cute how I can change the tempo at will like that. Like the best radio in the world, babes.”
You blow air from your nose and kiss his head from above, mostly just getting his hair in the kiss from the angle you’re at. “I like your chilliness, you like my heartbeat…I’m starting to think this may work out for us after all!”
The demon snorts, repositioning his head to your shoulder so he can look you in the eye better. “Y’know, I really thought my awesome cock and subsequent use of it would be the thing that made you think that, but whatever seals the deal for ya, doll!”
“That too.” You sigh and close your eyes. “So, what are we gonna tell the others?”
“Uh, you got so horny after I annoyed you one day that you fucked me about it?”
“Beetlejuice, we are not telling people that.”
“Sorry, that you fucked me and you fucked me good. Better?” Your raised eyebrow is enough of an answer on its own. “Hm, and I thought you were a fan of honesty. Well, suit yourself. We can think of something more PG later, it’s not like we have to tell anyone tonight.”
“Well, I guess you are right on that front. I’ll think of a nice and polite way to bring it up at the family dinner table later.”
“Yeah, plus it’ll be a shitshow either way. They’re all gonna say that you’re too good for me, which yeah, fair.”
You brush some loose hairs out of his face reassuringly. “They can think whatever they wanna think. Doesn’t make ‘em right.” You kiss his lips gently, with the soft whisper of a promise at the edge of your own lips guiding your touch. “I love you, Beetlejuice.”
Beetlejuice looks so utterly overwhelmed by emotion after you speak that he can only think to immediately bury his face against you silently. He’s holding so tight to you, as though you could disappear at any moment if his grip slackens. Like you’re his lifeline. After multiple moments of heavy breathing directly against your skin, he manages to barely choke out a response. “Ditto.”
You can’t help but chuckle at the demon, rubbing circles into his back as a comfort. “Just rest now, baby. You did great.”
Beetlejuice looks up at you in relief. “Oh God, thanks for saying that. I’ve been drowsy since we stopped, I just didn’t wanna leave you alone.” Never would’ve guessed him as the most considerate type, but he sure loves to prove me wrong.
“No worries Beej, I’ll be right here next to you. I’m not going anywhere. You can sleep.”
With those last affirmations, Beetlejuice’s eyes almost immediately droop shut as he begins snoring lightly, asleep at an impressive speed for a demon or human. It’s pretty cute how tired he must’ve been before you told him to rest, you didn’t even know for sure if demons wanted and/or needed sleep til now. Yet here he is, making deep contented rumblings from the back of his throat, his head and torso acting like a soft weighted blanket on top of you. The presence of him sleeping soundly on you is deeply comforting, both physically and emotionally. This demon, who’s lived a million lifetimes and dealt with more shit than I could imagine in both the world of the living and dead, trusts me enough to fall asleep on me. He trusted me enough to talk to me about his feelings during sex. Beetlejuice, of all people. Even if I told someone as understanding as one of the Maitlands about that, I don’t think they’d really believe me. Or even really get it.
You reach one arm down to pull a sheet up over the both of you sloppily, just to have something covering you both. Human instincts for avoiding being preyed on by demons in the night always persist, despite your unique situation. As you adjust you pillow to make yourself comfortable for the night, you run your fingers through Beetlejuice’s hair, which is now settling back into its default green without any more external stimuli. You wonder bemusedly if it ever changes color in his sleep, then feel a peaceful rush of happiness when you realize that you’ll have ample time and opportunity to find out the answer. Overtaken by a quiet joy, you quickly lean your head over to kiss him goodnight on the forehead, trying everything in your power to somehow physically materialize this feeling of affection for Beetlejuice that is so strong and all-consuming, just so you could hold it so close that nothing bad would ever happen to it. In lieu of that impossibility, you hold Beetlejuice tighter in your arms instead, with the same goal in your mind.
Author’s Note: this took me an indefensible amount of time to write and if i look at it for another second i’ll go crazy so please take it and look at it with your own eyeballs so that mine can rest. on the fun side, can you tell that characters who always flirt with others by making bold sexual references but end up actually being really flustered and submissive when the other person finally reciprocates are my favorites? anyways i wanna pick this guy up by the scruff of his neck like a kitten, he is so special to me. originally this fic was supposed to be way less emotional but sometimes you’re writing and a character decides to have a breakdown halfway through a scene and you just gotta deal with that curveball when it’s coming at you. but i’m pretty happy with how it turned out, and i hope you guys enjoyed it too. thanks for reading! edit: hey you, want some more? i finally made a sequel lol (x)
#beetlejuice x reader#musical!beetlejuice x reader#musical beetlejuice x reader#beetlejuice x you#beetlejuice x gn!reader#beetlejuice musical#alex brightman#beetlejuice#reader insert#smut#hello beetlejuice community#beetlejuice more like. babygirl#fun fact: i literally boarded a plane and flew to nyc for the very final showing of beetlejuice on broadway bc i am a WH*RE#worth every penny man. alex brightman is unbeatable#my fics
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