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stevie-petey · 6 months ago

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episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend).

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond.

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right.

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good.

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list:

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes.

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says.

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza.

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you.

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California.

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters.

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly.

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break.

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed.

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with.

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee.

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate.

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers.

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes.

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA.

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius.

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again.

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club.

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave.

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet.

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!”

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. ��Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance.

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household.

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!”

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that.

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?”

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man.

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after.

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!”

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous.

Which means it has to be about someone.

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch.

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind.

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend.

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end.

–

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you.

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you.

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet.

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her.

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile.

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’.

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now.

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary.

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent.

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne.

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match.

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin.

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly.

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil.

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience.

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them.

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster.

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike.

Goddamn Eddie Munson.

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side.

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you.

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high.

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head.

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be.

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows.

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions.

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery.

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

–

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary.

You’ll miss him when you graduate.

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one.

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day.

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his.

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for.

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom.

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too.

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table.

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana.

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded.

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin.

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies.

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others?

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.”

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him.

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified.

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol.

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother.

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds.

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

–

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him.

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back.

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd.

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true.

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster.

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song.

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash.

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin.

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot.

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them.

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself.

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score.

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jason tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.”

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline.

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there.

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else.

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones.

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

–

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time.

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms.

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked.

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known.

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.”

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with.

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.”

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does.

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true.

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him.

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke.

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely.

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart.

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow.

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue.

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling.

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted.

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate.

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship.

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud.

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways.

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed.

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to.

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull.

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #bdyr #m's writing #SEASON 4 EVERYONE CHEER !!!!#also i dont hate eddie but bug does #lmao

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prettealolilol · 9 days ago

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i like to think about the duality of the kids about people shipping Bruce with anyone, because the guy has been elected as the most handsome man in the country for years, has this whole playboy Brucie persona and is often seen with someone at his arms (men and women)

on one side, they'll be like "ew god no, i do not want to imagine dad like-" and "oh my god some people actually ship Bantman and Joker wtf ??" and they'll do their best to filter every social media to avoid any thirsty or shipping content about Bruce

when the press ask them about it, they be like:

Tim : "Would you like it if I asked about your thoughts on your dad cheating on your mom with his secretary ? No ? Then mind your own business." when the dad was in fact cheating with his secretary and now everybody knew because Tim was live when he answered

Jason, pulling out a gun : "i swear to god i'll shoot the next person who asks me this and then i'll shoot myself. Ugh, do i look like i fucking care about the old man's sex life ?"

Dick, smiling uncomfortably : "i don't really live at the manor anymore and i barely see him with my job so you know..." when it has been in fact a week he's been sleeping at the manor after patrolling with Batman

Damian, frowning as usual, looking at the guy who asked him as if he did not have a brain : "Father is careful in not mixing his carnal activities with the family life so i do not have any hindsight on his sex life. i do not wish to know regardless." the journalist is taken aback by the explicit answer of this ten year old, while his brothers are trying not to laugh behind him (Jason was not hiding his snickering)

on the other side, you cannot tell me those guys are not the biggest shippers in the world

like Jason would want Batman to date Wonder Woman just so she could be his step mom. i strongly believe the guy has a ao3 and tumblr account and is very much active on both. he definitely reads batman x green lantern fics just to annoy Bruce (even though his dad has no idea, but still gets shivers when Jason is reading one)

Dick and Duke both ship SuperBat although for different reasons. for Dick, that's his uncle there, he was there when they met and saw them as they slowly became best friends. he strongly believes they are made for each other. Duke just think it would be super cool (no pun intended) if the Superman and the Batman were dating.

Stephanie just likes to roll with it, some days she feels like shipping superbat, others she'll be more into batcat, or batlantern. she's pretty volatile and doesn't really have a favourite, but when she gets into one she's all in. she'll be arguing and insulting people online who disagrees, sharing crazy theories...

Cass doesn't really care, she'll listen to any of her siblings ranting about their thoughts (especially Steph) and juts find it adorable (and funny how much they care)

Tim probably ships superbat because they are completely opposed, and he finds the parallels really interesting. he definitely writes fics (Jay reads his fics and they exchange about it without knowing it's each other)

Damian doesn't really see the point. but he has drawn of few fanart (Jason tried to bribe him with money once and Damian had to remind him of his inheritance) when Bruce benched Tim and him and he ended up drawing some batlantern that Tim printed and plastered all over the manor. Bruce had to restrain the access to the printer (Tim hacked into it the next day)

Barbara, although she doesn't really ship, is the one you go to if you search some content, she'll find you the most heart wrenching, 200 thousand words, slow brun, angst/comfort fics you'll ever read (the type of fic that changes you deep into your soul). she still likes debating with the batkid

Regardless, if there's one things they all agree on, it is Bruceman (love those fics were the batkids just go along with it). like it's hilarious but the fans make some pretty good points and they are in fact impressed. it's also the safest ship as it would not happen in any situations so they don't have to worry about their dad being stolen

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thesturniolos · 1 year ago

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guilty pleasures (part 1 )

m. sturniolo x reader

authors note: this picture is actually sickening, need him too bad 🤞

this is all creds to my bae @iheartchrissturniolo thanks for the idea hun < 3 (part 2 including your idea yet to come)

summary: matt has a bit of a crush on his best friend, he’s fantasising ;)

warnings: smut, swearing !!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

she looked heavenly by the pool today, irresistible to the point where my heart ached. i knew i couldn’t have her, i’ve only been reminding myself everyday for the past 6 years and it’s agonising.

the way the droplets of water fell off her golden skin, the bikini that accentuated her curves, oh so perfectly. and knowing i chose it for her was like the cherry on top of the cake. blue- my favourite colour - and hell she knew it when she bought it, she even told me. “i wonder why you picked this one” i remember her slight giggle after she said it, voice like silk, one that plays in my head at night.

she drags her hand through her hair, shaking it a little to get rid of the water, and boy do i wish it was me doing that. for me to be the one to look after her, to do the small things that weren’t so small to me. her eyes are closed and even though she’s been in the water, her makeup remained flawless - not that she needed it, she was absolutely gorgeous with and without.

she didn’t think this however, always telling me how she wishes she looked like anybody else. if she could only see what i see, just for a second, she’d never think that again. she’s better than any supermodel, the ‘prettiest of girls’ according to society weren’t a touch on her. plus, they didn’t come with her personality- she’s a real life angel and i’ve been blessed with even being in her presence.

i would spend every minute and every hour of my day telling her every little thing i love about her from the colour of her nails to the shape of her lips, i don’t care about the dents in her thighs or the stretch marks on her stomach, she’s perfect.

she’s walking closer to me with an arm outstretched, my eyes landing on the matching tattoo she has with me and i smile. i sometimes forget we had that done, which almost instantly brings me back to reality that she is and always will just be my best friend. i cannot afford to lose someone as special as her which is why i have to push those feelings to the side, as much as we want to be free.

her being so close to me and looking at me with those eyes, dark eyes that could mean so many things, made my cheeks blush the slightest red and i become desperate to hide this. what kind of friend blushes like a crazed guy in love when they look at them? it’s just a look, god.

“you got a towel?” there was that voice again, a voice i wish was in my ear forever. it wasn’t high - pitched nor was it deep, it was just in the middle, soothing. reminds me of the times where she held me whilst i cried, the bestest friend there is. reminds me of when she was so utterly drunk and slurring over her words, what was it again?

╭┈┈┈┈╮

“matt” she prods at my arm, waking me up.

“wassup” she frowns looking at my tired state, moving her hand to push hair out of my eyes.

“i’ve got a secret” i frown now, it’s 3am goddamn.

“what’s that”

“you promise you won’t tell anyone?” those little doe eyes drive me crazy, keep looking at me like that and i’ll have an accident.

“i promise” she leans in closer to my ear, her hot breath on my skin.

“i had a dream about you the other day” now i’ve piped up. i don’t care about the time or the sleep in my eyes, she fucking dreamt about me, i’m wide awake.

“oh yeah? good or bad?”

“depends”

“what’d you mean, depends?” once again, driving me crazy. she just knows how to do it.

“well, it depends how you take it.”

“go on.” i’m begging for this now, i need to know what the fuck happened, it’s killing me.

“well, we were doing something,” she twirls my hair in her hand, not looking me in the eyes yet all i can focus on is her and her words. “something best friends don’t do.”

“like what?”

“fucking.”

╰┈┈┈┈╯

held a chokehold over me. every night when i got in to bed i imagined her sleepy self, squirming about in her sheets to the idea of me pounding into her. suddenly i didn’t feel so bad about the hundreds of wet dreams i’ve had ‘bout her, we’re even.

but it only made me more delusional that we could actually be something. she was drunk and it was a dream, i was being dramatic if i thought it was actually something.

“yeah, it’s just there.” i say, pointing to the floor. she bends down to pick it up and i get the best sight of her boobs, pressed against the fabric of her bikini, pushed together ever so slightly. they looked so smooth, so pretty. something i just couldn’t take my eyes off..

“hello? matt?” she swipes her hand in front of my face and i’m so utterly embarrassed, knowing i’d been fixated on her tits. what an assy thing to do, how do i even begin to explain something like that?

“i- uh- i’m sorry! i wasn’t-“ she smiles at me and reaches out to scruff my hair, once again her boobs being directly in my face. is she doing this on purpose? because i’m about to cum in my pants.

“i take it you just really like your choice of bikini, hm?” she laughs, moving the towel to rest it on her hip as she turns around and struts off towards our house. she fucking knows what she does, not just to me but everyone.

i’ve been ignoring the poking in my pants for a while but it’s more prominent then ever now and i need to do something about it or i’m gonna come undone right here right now. it might be pervy but i quite literally cannot be around her when she’s close to naked, my mind travels to the dirtiest of places and to be honest, i’m careless.

if she’s going to act so calm about riling me up like that, then i’m gonna embrace the way she makes me feel. how she makes my cheeks hot and the wet patch that forms in my boxers when she whispers in my ear or now, shoving her boobs in my face.

praying that my jeans cover my painfully obvious hard-on, i quickly walk into the house, making a bee line for my bedroom, desperate to do something about what was happening in my pants.

“you okay, matt?” shes looking at me with a frown, the towel in her hair now as she begins to dry it, still wearing that flattering bikini that is just about to tip me over the edge.

“mhm, i- um, just need to do something.” i look around to see if my brothers are anywhere to be seen, something to distract me from this conversation, i so desperately need to get to that bedroom.

“oh? why’d you look so flustered?” she says with a smug, little smile.

“no reason. i just- i just need a second.” i go to walk away. as much as i would love to stay and talk, right now that is not what i need.

“need my help?”

tags: @strniohoeee @sturnsbaby @sturniolopepsi @malsturns @mattslolita @mattitties @mattsbratt @mattsturniolos @mattsturniolosgf @chrisdevora @christinarowie332 @chrisolivia4l @ilovemattsturn @sturniolossmut @sturnioloswife @sturniolosstar @freshlovehacker @kirby0strombolli @recklesssturniolo @lovingmattysposts @oversturn @ilovemattsturn @urfavstromboli @estelleswrld @strawberrysturniolo @dailysturniolo @deatthmatch @hoesformatt @justangelheree @klarasmith @kvtie444 @cabincorematt @caitifilms @bluesturniolo333 @mattsturnioloswattpad

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quack-quack-snacks · 1 year ago

Note

Ok, for Ban x Reader request…

Smut, just pure smut.

As for what happens, Fem!Reader decides to try on the Boar Hat’s uniform and Ban cannot stop thinking about fucking her with that uniform on.

As for specific kinks: Ban having a giving and receiving praise kink, also a mild biting kink.

And possibly Ban referring to the reader as ‘doll’ as a term of endearment.

I like your funny words magic man 🪄

Pay Up Later

My Navigation and Masterlist

My Sweet Home Masterlist

Pairing(s): Ban x Fem!Reader Summary: Ban loves a woman in uniform. Warnings: Smut, porn with a little plot, praise kink, biting kink, cursing, uniform kink (?). Word Count: 3,394

“It's been so long since we’ve done something like this! We should have a girl’s day more often!” Diane exclaimed to you and Elizabeth as you all walked back to the tavern from the town. It was a quiet day when Elizabeth, Diane, and you decided to get away from the Boar Hat for a while and take a much-needed break. With all the fighting and chaos that’s been happening, it felt like you never got a chance to breathe anymore.

“I agree! It's nice to get out every once in a while!” Elizabeth agreed and you smiled at the two girls.

“If only we could do it more often, it seems like we never get a break anymore,” you complained, playfully throwing your head back while they laughed at your antics.

Diane reached over to lace her arm through yours and pull you along, doing the same to Elizabeth on her other side. “Well, maybe we’ll just have to make it a tradition then!” She stated cheerfully. “I need whatever time I can get with you two while you’re not being hogged by the boys.”

Elizabeth blushed but you just looked at her, confused. “What do you mean by that?” You asked and she gave you a look like you were stupid.

“You know exactly what I mean by that. Elizabeth,” she bumped her hip against the girl playfully which caused the girl to blush even more. “Keeps getting hogged by Meliodas whenever he’s around, always wanting her as close as possible because he likes her~” she drew out the end of her sentence playfully as Elizabeth brought both her hands up to cover her face. “And you are always being watched over by Ban. I swear, I never see you without him being somewhere nearby. Tell me,” she leaned close conspiratorially, dragging Elizabeth with her as they were still attached by their linked arms. “Are you two dating? What’s going on between the two of you?”

Elizabeth brought her hands down, silently also curious about your answer and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you coughed awkwardly and looked away.

“There’s nothing going on, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you refuted before seeing the Boar Hat appear over the hill you were climbing. “Oh look! We’re almost here, guess that means the questions are over! Darn, and I was really looking forward to answering them! Oh well!” You sarcastically told them and they laughed at the way you brushed them off.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” Diane teased while poking your side lightly.

The three of you laughed as you finally approached the entrance to the tavern and opened the door, the conversation changed from that of boys to one about the activities you all did earlier in the day. As soon as you all walked in, your eyes immediately locked on Ban. He was standing behind the counter, pouring leftover scraps into the food bowl of Hawks. The pig, still in his tiny form after the fight with the previous Holy Knight Grandmaster, Hendrickson, was sitting in the middle of the bowl, eating his heart away and his eyes shining like he was in heaven. Meliodas sat at the other side of the bar with his usual cup of Vanya Ale in his hands.

The chime of the bell on the door caused the three’s attention to snap to the doorway you all were walking through. Ban’s eyes immediately found yours and he gave you a smirk. You blushed and looked away, Diane’s words ringing through your head as you mentally analyzed every single one of your interactions with the man.

While you’d had a crush on the man for as long as you’d known him, you weren’t sure if he ever felt the same. He seemed softer with you than he did everyone else but you always thought it was just because you weren’t one of the sins.

Then again, Elizabeth wasn’t a sin either and he never treated her the same way he treated you.

“Hey guys! Welcome back!” Meliodas exclaimed with a smile as he stood up and walked towards the three of you. “How was your girls’ day?”

“It was wonderful! There was this band that was playing in the street with dancers and everything! We also sto-“ Elizabeth’s words started to fade into the background while she explained what you did as you began to feel eyes glaring into the side of your head. Looking up, you saw the eyes belonging to the one and only Fox Sin. You shot him a smile when you made eye contact and he shot you a smirk back. Looking away when you felt the tap of an elbow against your side, you turned back to see Elizabeth heading up the stairs and Diane looking at you questioningly.

“Are you going to come change with us?” She asked and you immediately nodded. With a smile and no other words spoken, she took your hand and started leading you up the stairs when you suddenly heard a familiar feminine scream. Chasing up the stairs to get to Elizabeth, you were shocked to find the room you shared with Diane in tatters. Ignoring that for the time being, Diane beat you to the chase as she asked if Elizabeth was okay. The girl nodded with wide eyes as she stared into the room.

It was then you noticed the familiar large black and green hound tearing apart the clothes in your closet.

“Oslo! Oslo!” You heard King call from upstairs before he came running down and saw you all. “H-hey Diane! Hey guys! Have you guys seen Oslo?”

Without a word, you all moved to the side so he could see his companion ripping apart your clothes.

“Oslo, no! Bad hound!” He flew forward, grabbing onto the piece of clothing in the hound's mouth as he tried to stop him from damaging it anymore.

Shaking your head, you sighed at the scene. A few clothes of Diane’s were ruined but the majority of the damage was done to the clothes in your closet.

When King was finally able to drag Oslo out of your room, he rushed forward and started shouting his apologies. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how he got in there or why he would do that! Let me make it up to you!”

You laughed at his frantic words and just waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, King. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal my ass,” You heard Ban say from behind you before his arm wrapped around your shoulders and his shoulders hunched down. “You need to make him pay up, Doll.”

The nickname made you pause but you shook your head, denying his suggestion and shaking off the heating of your cheeks at the same time. “No, really!”

“No, truly! I insist! I will make you brand-new clothes that will be even better than the ones you had previously!” King told you loudly with an adorable amount of determination. Smiling kindly, you rested a hand on his head since he was bowing down in an apology.

“Okay, if that’s what you really want to do, then I won’t stop you. It’ll save me a shopping trip I guess,” you gave in to his wishes and he smiled at you awkwardly but his fists clenched in absolute resolve. Muttering another apology to you, he turned and started heading for his room on the top floor, dragging Oslo along with him by the hound’s ear. You sighed as you stepped into your room and examined the damage to your clothes. Everything was ruined. You were pretty sure there wasn’t a single piece of clothing in there that was wearable anymore.

Diane walked up to stand next to you and winced at the sight. “Well that’s not good,” she mumbled before her eyes lit up with an idea. “I’ve got it!” She grabbed your arm and started pulling you down the stairs and into the pantry in the tavern’s kitchen. Letting go of you, she walked over to a large cupboard. When she opened it, you could see a multitude of the women's tavern uniforms in all different sizes hanging inside. “You can just borrow one of these for the time being until we get you your new clothes!” She exclaimed excitedly. “Now Elizabeth, you, and I can all match!”

A smile lit your face up from her over-exaggerated happiness at the idea and you reached inside the cupboard to grab your size of the outfit. “Sure, Diane. It’ll be exciting!”

Standing in front of the mirror, you looked at yourself in the outfit. While it was definitely not the type of outfit you would normally wear - with it being so revealing and the likelihood of your panties showing if you leaned forward even the slightest bit - you really liked how it looked. You could see why Elizabeth hardly wore the other clothes she had even on her days off of work. Diane was less consistent with her outfit choices. She often switched between her regular fighting leotard, the tavern uniform, and some other clothes she had in her closet.

The uniform fit you like a glove. The single stocking - which you always found rather inconvenient and unnecessary but Meliodas always insisted on it - stuck to your thigh and surprisingly didn’t slip down once. The blouse circled your torso beautifully. The ruffles on the bottom and sleeves of the shirt were a nice touch along with the fabric that wrapped around your neck and hung in the front. While the skirt was a little too short for your liking, it still made you look good. You couldn’t help but admire yourself in the mirror as you wore it. You’d been getting ready to head down to do your normal ‘job’ of sitting at the counter and watching Ban work but you knew you were running late.

You just couldn’t drag your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror.

A knock interrupted your admiration and you walked over to the door to open it. It was both a surprise and not to see Ban standing outside your door, leaning against the door frame and towering over you. A low whistle escaped his mouth as he dragged his eyes across your body, admiring you just as you did a few minutes ago.

“Damn. Looking good, Doll,” he complimented and heat rose to your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Well I was coming to see where my favorite girl was but it looks like she was looking extra pretty up here instead of downstairs with me.”

He popped off the door frame and took a step towards you. Nervous, you took a step back and swallowed. His eyes followed to movement of your throat as he entered your room, closing the door behind him and securing the lock in place - all the while, never breaking his eyes on you.

“Who knew my pretty doll was even prettier when she was all dressed up,” he said as he took more steps toward you. With your many steps back, it only took him a few to catch up to you. Your breath hitched when your back hit the wall and he leaned down, his arms trapping you in and leaving no escape.

Not that you want to escape.

“B-Ban?” You whispered as he looked at your lips. He put his face in the crook of your neck and moaned.

He fucking moaned.

“God, I love it when you say my name like that.”

Gaining a sudden surge of confidence, you spoke again. “I can say it as many times as you want,” you told him after gaining a sudden surge of confidence. Leaning in so your lips grazed the shell of his ear, you whispered seductively, “Ban.”

The confident and more dominant nature you started to hold slipped through your fingers as he let his sharp teeth graze along the soft spot on your neck while his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against him. You whimpered as you melted into his embrace and you could feel his smirk against your skin.

“Pretty girl, do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” He teased, but there was a more serious undertone in his voice as he asked and leaned back to look you in the eyes.

You brought your arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him down. His forehead rested against yours as you looked at his lips to avoid his intense scarlet gaze. “Maybe not exactly,” you confessed and leaned forward so your lips brushed against his. “But I want it anyway.”

“Fuck,” he whispered before closing the gap between the two of you and kissing you. Your fingers laced through his hair and you pulled him closer. You gasped when you felt his finger circle your thighs and lift you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he straightened up to his full height and kissed you more comfortably.

He took advantage of your momentary surprise and entered his tongue into your mouth. You moaned around it as the two of you went to war with your mouths, struggling for dominance. He leaned off the wall, bringing you with him as he quickly walked over to your bed and threw you down. You gave a slight yelp at the sudden drop and looked up at him. Your lips were swollen and your breathing was ragged from the intense kiss. Sitting up, you put a finger through the belt loop of his pants and pulled him closer, feeling confident enough to look him straight in the eyes.

You saw the way his eyes darkened as he kneeled on the bed, crawling until his face lined up with yours.

“God, I just want to fuck you in this outfit. I do love a woman in uniform,” he exclaimed and you could feel the heat in your core rising. He leaned his face into your neck again, although this time he didn’t only skim his teeth along the column of your neck, he bit down. You let out a moan that quieted to a whimper when he did. It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood but it was hard enough for you to feel the sharp points of his canines.

Oh, how you wished he would bite down just a little harder.

“You want me to go harder?” He asked you from where his head was still buried in your neck. He started kissing and sucking at your skin, unbuttoning your top and pulling part of it off to reveal your shoulder.

Taking a breath to calm your racing heart, you whimpered out a small, “Mhm.”

He smirked. “Good girl.”

He marked you all along your neck and shoulders, even going along the valley between your breasts and marking the flesh there. You had barely even noticed he continued to go further down your body until you felt his hot breath against your panties. Panicking at his possible reaction, you tried to squeeze your thighs shut but his hands held you open for his viewing pleasure. Sliding your panties down your legs tortuously slow, he tucked them into his pocket.

“Wha-?” You protested but he shushed you, his hands squeezing the fat of your thighs and getting dangerously close to your heat.

“I’ll have King make you some new ones or something,” he reassured you.

You were about to protest more but the feeling of his lips caressing your inner thigh made all the thoughts in your head drift away.

“Please,” you whispered to him after his continuous teasing. He constantly got closer to your core only to skip over it and switch to teasing and marking the other thigh.

“You got it, pretty girl,” he relented and you let out a sigh of a moan when his lips finally met your clit. Bringing a hand down to his head, you weaved your fingers through his hair, bringing his face closer as you began to grind against his tongue. “Fuck, you taste so good, Doll. Could stay between these thighs forever,” he praised and you clenched around nothing. You let out a loud gasp when you felt his tongue enter you, his nose rubbing against your clit as he pumped his tongue in and out of your cunt.

“Fu-uck,” you moaned brokenly. “Fuck, Ban. You feel so fucking good, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged and praised him. His finger squeezed your thighs harder and he moaned into you.

It wasn’t long before you felt the knot tightening in your core and you warned him of what was to come.

“Cum for me, Doll,” he encouraged, wrapping your legs around his head as he dug his tongue into you deeper, the long muscle hitting all the right spots inside of you to have you seeing stars. You did as told and came into his mouth. He stayed where he was for several minutes, lapping up your release as you came down from your high. “Shit, that was so hot.”

You blushed at his words and he chuckled, kissing your thighs before crawling back up to be hovering above your face. You grabbed the back of his neck and brought his lips onto your own in a slow, sensual kiss. It was so slow and distracting that you didn’t notice Ban pulling his pants down to his knees until suddenly he grabbed you by the waist and flipped your positions. He now leaned against the headboard of the bed while you hovered above his very above-average cock. He used a hand to hold it and drag the tip through your folds. He grinned and bit your lip when you moaned into his mouth.

“You want me to fuck you, Doll?” He asked teasingly, barely slipping the tip of his dick through your folds before pulling out and focusing on circling your clit.

“So badly,” you whimpered into his mouth and he groaned, the smirk on his face growing while precum started gathering on the tip of his dick, mixing with your release as he swirled them around.

Without another word, he thrusted his hips up and buried his cock to the hilt in your heat. You moaned simultaneously at the feeling.

“So full~” you moaned out, leaning forward to capture his lips in another kiss.

“So tight,” he moaned out in return, allowing you to control the kiss while he controlled your hips to raise and fall along his dick. You could feel every vein, every twitch, every ridge of his cock inside you. It was almost too much but you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, all for me. You’re mine, yeah?” He practically begged, whining in your ear now that he was finally inside of you. After months of pining, months of fucking his fist at the thought of you. Finally, finally, he had you in his grasp. “Say you’re mine, Doll.”

“I’m yours. Always been yours, Ban,” you confessed and stared deeply into his eyes. The two of you held eye contact as you both inched closer to your releases. The orgasms built inside you, the knot tightening and tightening. Ban moved his thumb so it pressed right against your clit and that was the final push you needed. You moaned, muffling it by kissing him as he continued to move your body for him. You whimpered at the sensitivity, but god, it felt so good.

“You were fucking made for me. Just me. No one else’s. Just mine,” he growled out in your mouth and you could barely process his words, going dizzy with pleasure. With a few more pumps inside you, he came and slowly came to a stop.

Falling forward onto his chest, he brought his arms up to encircle your waist and smooth his hands up and down your back.

“Maybe we can make King pay up later, yeah?” He asked playfully, but you could hear the genuine question underneath.

“Yeah, I think that sounds like a good idea,” he playfully told him in return and he smiled at you, kissing your forehead.

The tavern may have been chefless but in that moment, neither of you really cared.

#ban #ban x reader #ban nnt #nanatsu no taizai #the seven deadly sins #seven deadly sins #seven deadly sins ban #ban sds #sds #sds ban #x reader #reader insert #smut

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cherie-doll · 8 months ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Missing You While They’re Away

✧˚ Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi

༉‧₊˚. (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

“Just one soft kiss is enough to move my heart. There was a time when our affection was deep, and reminiscing has made me realize how much I miss you.”

Ghost

This feeling is quite strange to him

He thought his heart would be at ease when you’ve said your goodbyes

Although he’s tried dismissing this feeling every day by reminding himself he’ll see you again

But he finds himself missing you; your touch, your comfort, your smell

A habit of his is hooking a leg over your body while in bed, that first morning he wakes up feeling empty because you’re not there

Your touch is like fire to his body that he seeks to warm his lonely nights

He yearns for it so much he cannot live without it

He would truly burn for you

Soap

Starts writing love letters to you like how Napoleon wrote for Josephine

He wakes up with you on his mind, his senses in a turmoil

Replaying the last evening and your intoxicating body scent that gives him such tranquility

Probably writes your name out a hundred times, drawling little hearts around it

If he finds a flower he’ll press it between the pages he sends you

When you send him something small of yours in return, insignificant to anyone else but an amulet to him

He wears it around his neck

Fiddling with it between his fingers

He’s prob the type to get one of those 18th century lover’s eye jewelry because to him it means having a clandestine declaration of your love

Gaz

That feeling that cannot be put into words

The feeling of walking on clouds that you have planted in his heart

He misses it so much

Your whisper with your soft smile

When he’s sitting alone he wishes he’d have you there next to him

Looking down at his hand, it feels empty, he knows exactly where your fingers intertwine with his

Your touch is so familiar to him that it feels unusual not to feel you

The words he longs to say, your name he wants to call out, the cherished place you have for him in your heart

He swears that when you reunite he’ll wrap his arms around your waist, pressing long and relentless kisses whilst murmuring “i missed you”

Alejandro

Man thinks about how he pressed lazy, slow kisses all over you, taking his sweet time memorizing your body

It’s the last thing he did right before he left

He asked for a kiss from you too before leaving, a real kiss

“Don’t be shy cariño”

He makes sure that you’ll miss him just as much as he’ll be missing you

The night before, he played slow, romantic music as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing down your back hoping that through his lips you would feel his heart that beats wildly for you

Now whenever the song plays both you and him have that sweet memory, soothing his mind but awakening his heart

Phillip Graves

He believes that being away from one another every once in a while is beneficial

While it is truly a vivid and pleasant sensation; being enamored, so ardently in love, being everything when together and nothing at all when apart

His mind revolves around you

Anything can serve as a reminder of your fond love

A gentle wind caressing his face is like your embracement

Amid the bustling, glimpses of your smile flash through his mind, a whisper of your voice in his crowded memories

Even if he can’t hold your form; in the night sky enfolded in his closed eyes remains a trace of thoughts that are meant only for you

In this world, only you and him exist and it becomes yours in a swirling glass

Parting his lips from the brim of the glass to savor the wine makes the second drink all the more delightful

Keegan

Groaning in frustration because he can’t bury his face into your neck first thing in the morning to inhale your scent as he’s used to, you’re like a fragrance so refined

Before leaving, he took your pillowcase and a sample of your preferred perfume

He sprays it all over himself before going to sleep so he may be drenched in your aroma

If he can’t be with you in that moment, he can only hope he’ll dream of you

He’s constantly placing candy that melts on his tongue, substituting your addictive taste

He’s come to memorize your body, scent, taste, and voice through his senses

Being deprived of just one of those things is torture to him

König

You don’t know how afraid he is of something happening to you while he’s gone, or something preventing him from ever seeing you again

Your existence alone is like a dream to him

Déjà vu of some perfect gaze

Risks are scary, yet it makes his heart flutter

Late at night, his fingertips trace his lips where you’d place loving kisses

He feels how empty his lap is when you’re not sitting on it

When he closes his eyes he remembers how you cup his face in your hands and dote on him

It wasn’t until that night that he felt more lost than ever before

Horangi

To him, it was enough knowing you were his reason to go on

That lively dynamic that is created when two universes collide

It filled his void with renewed purpose, and that in itself is enough to spur the other on

That spark that ignites when you brush skin against skin, he craves it so deeply

A hunger that stirs from his loins

How your lips feel like velvet grazing his skin, your tongue dripping with honey

The intoxicating expressions of affection he wishes to give and receive

He secures these thoughts in the back of his mind, knowing he’ll act upon them when he’s with you again

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luvjunie · 2 years ago

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Hey sweetie, I’ve been a real big fan. Can you write some HCS or a fic about the both Miles being twins?

a/n: ABSOLUTELY 10000% YES. i had way too much fun with this oml. and omg thank you you’re so sweet! 😭 btw, let’s just pretend that in this au they don’t have the same name since they’re ‘twins’ lmao

— headcanons. miles and miles as twins

Twins? Yes. Polar opposites? Definitely.

They both have a completely different sense of style, but one thing they have in common is that they both love Jordan’s. However I feel like miles!42 is a full blown sneakerhead. Has the better collection and often finds miles!1610 wearing his shoes, because somehow 42 always manages to win the snkrs raffles.

“Are those my brand new fuckin’ 4s?” “Uh… no?” “Take my shit off before I tweak out.”

42 keeps his side of the room squeaky clean, gets upset if there’s even a sock that does not belong to him on his side

Absolutely hates the song Sunflower. Cannot stand it, makes him wanna rip his hair out. The minute it came out 1610 played it into the dirt and 42 swears he can still hear it in his dreams till this day

1610 is the more affectionate one (outwardly) while 42 likes to pretend he’s completely devoid of that as if he doesn’t love his brother with everything in him.

“You got exactly three seconds to get off me.” “Just hug me back, damn!”

They’re the kind of brothers to open soundcloud, turn on a random trap beat and see who can go the longest freestyling. They do that thing where guys bring their fist to their mouths and squeal and shove each other out of excitement when they get a good flow going back and forth

42 is definitely the athletic type, plays football and soccer. 1610 is more in tune with his artistic side. Will play sports for fun but doesn’t care for them like that

42 is introverted as hell, doesn’t really like talking to people. 1610 is more of a social butterfly

They’ve never once liked the same girl. Ever. Their taste is drastically different

“Bro, you like a white girl?” “…Yes? What does her race have to do with anything?” “See me personally—“. “Literally nobody fucking asked.”

Used to help each other break out of their cribs when they were babies. Either that or Jeff and Rio would wake up to find that 42 had climbed into 1610’s crib after they’d been put down and slept with him instead. it was impossible to keep them apart from each other, so eventually they just broke down the second crib and let them use the one.

You can tell who is who in their baby pictures. You guessed it, 42 was the oddly solemn one who always wanted to play by himself. They worried about him for a bit. They also had to tickle him as an attempt to get him to smile in pictures, and just their luck, he’s never been ticklish

When they were eight years old, 1610 accidentally broke the wolverine action figure 42 never went anywhere without, and 42 cried about it for three days straight

They definitely ask for each other’s opinions on their outfits

“Do you think this shirt goes with these pants?” “The entire outfit is black… how would it not go together?”

They both obviously love their mother but 42 is the biggest mama’s boy. Always in the kitchen helping her cook, will watch her telenovelas with her and actually keep up with the plot. He’ll willingly follow her to the grocery store or accompany her on her ridiculously long Ross/Tjmaxx sprees because he likes hanging out with her

They terrorize the fuck outta their dad and have been doing so since they entered this world because they think it’s funny. Stupid shit like dying his boxers pink, or looking up a cracked tv screen video on youtube just to watch him nearly have a heart attack thinking they broke it. They used to twin-swap when they were younger to get out of certain things, but it’s 100% impossible to pull off now. They’re way too different, physically and mentally

Uncle Aaron took 42 to get his ears pierced when he was thirteen, something 1610 would never do. Rio basically had an aneurysm when he came home with them in and Jeff was not pleased but Aaron took the blame for it, said it was his idea. 42 made up some bullshit lie about how if he takes them out before they heal completely they’ll get infected. Still has them in till this day

42 is exactly fourteen minutes older and refuses to let 1610 hear the end of it, but 1610 is taller by an inch and weighs a little more.

“I don’t know why you’re talking shit like I’m not older than you. Pipe down lil’ bro.” “Sorry, is someone talking to me right now? Cause I sure as hell can’t see ‘em.” “Nigga it’s ONE INCH”

They’re definitely scrapping over that, and both get smacked upside their heads by Mama Rio for fighting with each other

42 needs the tv and the fan on, SIMULTANEOUSLY when he sleeps or he’ll be up the entire night. 1610 can’t stand it

1610 will try and turn the fan off after his brother’s been asleep for probably two hours, thinking he’s in the clear until he hears—

“Do you value your life? Turn my damn fan back on.”

Deep down 42 is a big ass softie and loves spending time with 1610, he has no idea what he’d do without him. He’s just not the best at expressing it. 1610 teases him about it simply because he enjoys aggravating his other half

“You still got plans with Ganke tonight?” “Nah, his mom’s dragging him to some baby shower.” “Oh, cool, cool… So what movie are we watching?” “Huh?” “Huh—Headass. What movie are we watching tonight?” “Sorry, I’m not understanding. Are you—asking to spend time… with me?” “Damn, I need to say it in Spanish? Matter fact, you probably won’t understand that either. No sabo ass.”

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales prowler #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales headcanons #across the spiderverse headcanons #spiderman astv

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emsdevs · 5 days ago

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I’m a sucker for Angst, so a heaviest of heavy Angst will always do it for me, like I need my insides to feel like it’s being stabbed and overwhelmed with all sort of emotions. Bonus point if it’s long. Hope this isn’t too much to ask for maybe I’m getting too carried away loll Could you do it with Justin Herbert please?

No Strings?

a/n: nonnie you sent this at the perfect time! I've had justin on my schedule for a while, but couldn't figure out what to write for him, so this worked out perfectly! this does not have a happy ending but i might be open to a part two if enough people want it. enjoyyyy :)

masterlist | NFL Masterlists | Justin Herbert Masterlist

You swore you could handle casual. When you started whatever you had going on with Justin, you swore you were the kind of person who could have a casual relationship, but now you aren’t so sure. When Justin asked you out four months ago, you never would’ve expected to be where you are now. It had all been going so well. The dates had been everything you could’ve asked for and more, and Justin was the perfect gentleman. It all began to go downhill after your third date. You had invited Justin into your apartment when he dropped you off, your intentions clear, and he had followed you inside. You two had been sitting on the couch when things began to get serious, the kiss you were sharing heating up.

Justin pulled away, looking slightly guilty. “I feel like I need to be honest with you about something before this goes any further.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” you were a little confused, but you let him speak.

“Look, because of the job I have, I really can’t do anything serious right now. I know I’ve probably led you on a little bit, but I swear I’ve never had any intentions to hurt you,” he stared at you, looking nervous.

“That’s okay!” you speak up too quickly for your liking. “We don’t have to stop unless that’s what you want. I can do casual.” Surely, you could. It couldn’t be that different from a normal relationship.

“You sure? I don’t wanna overstep if casual isn’t something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah, of course. No strings attached. Just having fun.”

As Justin leaned back in, you were thinking that this could definitely work. Justin was great, and this would keep him in your life without overstepping any boundaries. You could do casual.

Turns out, you can’t do casual. You’ve been trying to stay normal, but you realized two days ago that you were falling for Justin, hard. You’d been keeping it to yourself, not wanting to scare him away, but it’s getting more and more difficult. He’s just so sweet, and the things he tends to do for you simply cannot be casual.

Is it casual when he plays with the ends of your hair before you get out of bed in the morning? Is it casual for him, even though he keeps all your favorite snacks at his place for when you have movie nights? If it’s casual, why does he keep a drawer free so you have space to keep a few clothes at his place? If it’s casual, why does he know you better than you know yourself? Why has he gotten you your favorite flowers every two weeks since you went on that first date with him? Why does he know “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” is the perfect movie to cheer you up after a long day? If it’s casual for him, why is he acting like he’s in love with you?

Eventually, it had gotten to a point where you couldn’t stand lying to him or yourself anymore. After four months of no strings, you had to talk to him. You finally got the chance one night when he invited you over for a movie night. Before the movie got started, you decided it was time to break the news.

“Justin… I actually think we need to talk,” you wiped your hands on your pants, feeling them already starting to sweat from the nerves.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I just really need to say this, and I know you probably won’t like it, but I need you to listen until I finish,” you pause, waiting for him to nod. “Okay, so, I just feel like we’ve definitely crossed some lines in this arrangement, ya know? Like we both have a drawer at each other’s places. We’re spending the night together, and sometimes, we hang out without even having sex. I just… this isn’t what we originally agreed to,” you were avoiding saying what you were truly feeling.

“So we’ll step back some? I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like something to be worried abou-”

“I caught feelings for you, Justin,” he just stares at you, shocked, “I know we said no feelings, but we’ve just gotten a little too close. We don’t have to stop or anything. I’m a big girl. I can handle-”

“No. No, we should stop,” he cuts you off, and it’s your turn to stare.

“Seriously?”

“We said no strings. I told you I can’t do relationships because of my job. If you have feelings for me, this needs to stop now before it can get worse.”

“Right,” you stood robotically, grabbing your things and walking out of Justin’s house with tears in your eyes. The worst part? He didn’t even try to stop you. Somehow, with one sentence, you ruined something that could’ve been so good for you, that had been so good for you.

Now, it had been three months since that night, and you hadn’t spoken to Justin since. You’ve been going through the motions, just doing a fairly normal routine to make it through your day. You wake up, get dressed, go home, shower, cry while you eat your sorrows away, sleep, and then do it all again the next day. Nothing has felt right since your breakup with Justin, if that’s what you would even call. How can you break up with someone you were never really dating.

You’ve found your confidence to be much lower recently, too. You couldn’t count the amount of time you’ve wondered where you went wrong. Why did you have to tell him? Why would he not even try? Why didn’t he follow you? Today, you found the answer.

You had decided that a day out would do you some good, so since you had the day off, you got dressed and walked around the city. You were about to go into one of your favorite coffee shops, one that you had brought Justin to many times. As you neared the door, you caught a glimpse of something that shattered your heart in a second. There sat Justin across from some girl you’ve never seen, looking too close to just be friends. You watched as she stood, kissing his cheek before she wandered off to the bathroom. A bright smile made its way onto Justin’s face, a smile you had never managed to bring out of him. With your heart broken all over again, you made your way to a close friend’s place. It was closer than yours, and you knew you didn’t want to be alone right now.

He had told you he couldn’t be in a relationship, but what he really meant was that he couldn’t be in a relationship with you. The questions began to set in again. Were you not pretty enough? Not popular enough? Did he need someone in the same tax bracket as him? Did he really just not like you? Did he think you weren’t good enough for him? Was he lying the entire time, every time he told you how special you were to him

Even with all the questions you had, you knew two things for sure. You were done with Justin Herbert, and you definitely could not do casual.

taglist: @heartsforjh @irishmanwhore @heartforherbert @jusaints @one-sweet-gubler

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#em's inbox #em's nonnies #em's writing #justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #los angeles chargers #la chargers #nfl #nfl x reader

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midnightwriter21 · 5 months ago

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aot hcs: them as boyfriends

characters: levi, eren, connie

warnings: i have the mouth of a sailor im srry

an: first aot fic lesss gooooooo!!! lmk if y’all want another part with diff characters!!

LEVI ACKERMAN

*sigh* he's so girlfriend

starting off strong...

this man is NAWT kissing you in public lololol

he's got a reputation to uphold

however!!

he will show pda in much smaller, more subtle ways

walking down the street, he's offering his arm for you to loop yours through

or guiding you with a hand on your lower back

if y'all are walking through a crowd he is CRUSHING your hand with his grip

he's not trying to hurt your hand haha

he's just strong, can't see over peoples heads, and doesn't wanna lose you in the sea of people

he'll keep that unbothered bored look on his face but just know that on the inside that this man is stressed lmfao

alsoooo

service bf to the maxxxxx

dude is not good with expressing his feelings

especially romantic ones lol

so he expresses his love by doing little tasks for you

oh you forgot to get food for your cat?

levi already has it

can't get that jar of pickles open?

he's snatching it out your hands and popping it open

and you already know your house is about to be the CLEANEST its ever been on god

i feel so bad

for the person to shit talk you in front of levi

on my mama let somebody say something slick lmfaooo

he is not gonna let it slide

forget getting physically violent

this mans mouth is absolutely DIABOLICAL

in more ways than one if ur picking up what im putting down

*ahem* will make said person cry with his words alone

period.

EREN YEAGER

meowwwwwwwww

bark bark bark

*insert other animal noise here*

huh? somebody say something?

no? okay

AHEM

this man right here? cocky asf

dude is fine

and knows it too

and he knows y’all make a FINEEEE ASS COUPLE

shows you and your relationship off all the time

not a day goes by where he’s not posting you on social media

and he coordinates yalls outfits too omg

he makes sure his clothes match yours

not exactly matching ofc but the colors

if ur wearing a red dress to an event

he’s wearing a red tie

it’s a casual day and you’re wearing a blue shirt or dress?

his shoes/accessories/etc. are gonna be the same color

it’s an aesthetic that he keeps up with. period.

also he CANNOT keep ur name out his mouth

brings you up in every conversation possible

“i think y/n mentioned wanting to go see that movie too. was it good?”

“nah sorry, my girl said she wants to have a date night soon so i’ll have to pass. we can make plans another day though.”

“i gotta go to the store when i leave here. i wanna get some stuff to surprise my girlfriend, y/n, when i get home.”

and he is handsy asf

bro is touching you at all times swear

it’s impossible to walk past this man without him latching onto you and lathering you in kisses and feeling you up

in public he’s gonna keep it respectful tho

unless he knows he won’t get caught lmfao

introduces you to mikasa and armin

wants all of the important people in his life to get along ofc

i love him sm

CONNIE SPRINGER

let’s get right into it shall we?

as soon as y’all make it official

i mean the MINUTE y’all are boyfriend girlfriend

he’s calling up all his friends to tell them the news

and then he’s making plans for them to meet up so he can introduce you

i feel like he takes you on a lot of fun dates

y’all don’t jus go get dinner and then go home

that’s too lame for connie

he’s taking you to laser tag, haunted houses, trampoline parks, etc.

and let me tell you this rn

come close

connie is NOT teaming up with you for laser tag

he’s making sure he’s on the opposite team so he can’t hunt you down over and over

will not take it easy on you idc

anyways… when y’all do go to dinner

7/10 times sasha is third wheeling yall

maybe jean too lol

idk i jus think that for connie it’s “the more the merrier”

especially since dinner isn’t something that’s gonna get his blood pumping yk?

but at least y’all can all get drunk and be funny together as a group right?

connie is so incredibly dedicated to being a dumbass around you

like as long as it makes you laugh, nothing is off limits

bro is constantly cracking jokes, telling embarrassing stories, doing stupid shit in public

he wants you happy. at. all. times.

this being said

if ur sad connie is doing anything and everything to cheer you up

i’m talking getting you ur fav snacks, renting that movie you always talk about, and pulling you close for a snuggle

yeah so i want to eat him basically

295 notes · View notes

star-girl69 · 6 months ago

Text

hi everyone! this is so lazy but pls enjoy 🫶🫶

warnings: swearing and also slight freaky stuff 😣

you: good morning my sweet girlfriend

kk: wtf

kk: why r u not in my bed??

you: babe… i told u i had to leave early this morning bc i had an appt

kk: for what?

you: getting my nails done

kk: u abandoned me to get ur nails done?

you: yes…?

you: i don’t think i appreciate this attitude maybe i’ll just go back to my dorm

kk: please come back to my place.

you: say pretty please with sprinkles on top

kk: y/n

you: ok see u tmrw then

kk: pretty please with sprinkles on top.

you: ofc i will come back to urs 🥰

kk: 🙄

you: attitude????

kk: no ily

you: aww i love u too!

—-

you: can u plz drive me to my friend’s birthday dinner on friday and pick me up

kk: what times

you: drop me off at 6 pick me up at 9

kk: ok no problem

you: thank u ily

you: i would carpool w my friend serena but i don’t trust her in a car

you: she runs red lights a lot lol

kk: ??? plz don’t ever get into a car with her. i will drive u always

you: aww ur so sweet! not wanting me to die 🥰

kk: anything for my passenger princess

—-

you: CAROLINE ROSE HARVEY

kk: im sorry

kk: i’m so sorry

kk: i’ll make it up to you i promise im so sorry

…

laila: what did you do to kk 😭😭

laila: she’s staring at her phone in horror and when i asked her what was wrong she just said y/n before putting her head in her hands

you: i’m letting her sit in fear for a minute

laila: i admire you a lot ❤️

…

you: so i wake up this morning

kk: yes and u looked so pretty when i left

you: thank u

you: anyways and i then go about my day and i’m ready to run out and do my errands i look at myself in the mirror

kk: and u saw how beautiful u r?

you: yes and also i saw a GAINT FUCKING HICKEY ON MY NECK

you: SEVERAL OF THEM ACTUALLY

kk: do u really want me to say sorry for that

you: yes??? i need so much makeup to cover this up. actually i think u should buy new concealer for me

kk: as long as i can do it again

you: no this is so embarrassing

kk: it’s ok you’ll be saying different later

kk: besides u were encouraging me last night

you: ur delusional i’ve never done that

kk: if u say so babe but we both know

you: *link to new concealer*

kk: just bought 2 prepare to use them up

you: no

kk: yessss

you: no

kk: 😉

you: die

kk: ❤️

—-

you: i’m really craving chick fil a

kk: ok

you: i’m REALLY craving chick fil a

kk: u mentioned that

you: bye u don’t care abt me

you: gonna go text my other hoes

kk: u don’t have other hoes

you: im about to

kk: we’ll see

you: PLEASE GET ME CHICK FIL A

you: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

kk: thought u were texting other hoes?

you: i lied ur my only hoe and ilysm

you: plz get me chick fil a

you: i’ll do a cartwheel on it

kk: ???

kk: babe i’ll get u chick fil a

kk: thanks tho? i think

you: YAYYYY

—-

kk: i know ur asleep right now and i know u r very tired and i’m sorry but i forgot my helmet can u pls bring it to me at the rink

you: how did u forget ur helmet

you: like it weighs 10 pounds and it’s huge

kk: mean

kk: and idk i’m stupid plz bring it

you: ugh fine i’m On my way!

you: omw.

you: im not excited

kk: i love u so much u r the light of my life i cannot imagine waking up without ur beautiful face next to me u are brighter than the sun and i love u

you: thank u shakespeare ur so romantic

you: can we go shopping tmrw and u pay i need new pants

kk: u don’t need pants

you: it’s 9am

kk: yes we can go shopping tmrw

you: love u!

kk: ❤️

—-

you: hi

you: are u doing anything tn?? i feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever

kk: i know baby i miss u

kk: i have practice until 8 but u can come over still after? sleepover?

you: yes definitely i’ll be there

kk: i cant wait to see u pretty girl

—-

you: omg this restaurant looks so good we should go

kk: sunday at 6?

you: um yes i’m free

kk: just made a reservation

you: damn 😭 i’m impressed

kk: whatever my girl wants she gets 🤷‍♀️

—-

you: hi baby

…

you: so what position u got her in rn?

you: missionary? cowgirl?

kk: why do i love u

you: blocked

kk: i have no girls in no positions except for u

you: why are u so busy then?

kk: picked up this new hobby called hockey idk if it will go anywhere

kk: been at the gym for an hour about to go hit the rink

you: send workout pics 😜

—-

kk: hiiiiiiiiii

you: hi babe

kk: tone down that attitude plz

you: ?

kk: actually

kk: turn around show me that ass

you: are u drunk rn

kk: maybe

kk: you have an amazing ass do i tell u that enough

kk: i should tell u more

kk: i love ur ass

you: thank u…

you: do u need to be picked up?

kk: no laila is dd

kk: wanted to talk to my pretty girl

you: u sure know how to make a girl blush

kk: only u babe

kk: i like ur boobs too

you: oh my god pls hand the phone to laila

kk: this is laila don’t worry we’re going home rn

you: laila ur a goddess thank u

kk: i try ❤️❤️

—-

#caroline harvey #caroline harvey x reader #kk harvey #kk harvey x reader

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ripdragonbeans · 7 months ago

Text

You Win Epilogue // modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: You and Aemond have always had a solid relationship built in trust and love. All that is challenged when Aemond has to take a class led by Professor Alys Rivers. Once she's gone, though, how do the two of you heal?

TW: p in v, oral (m and f receiving), manipulation, indefinitely

Part 1 • Part 2

It has been two months since you and Aemond have reconciled, for lack of a better term. Things were not great but they weren’t terrible either. Alys still haunted both of you. For you, those images she planted in your head as well as ones that you made up yourself. For Aemond, everything about her haunted him. He desperately wanted Alys out of his head, out of his life, but she lingered like a scent that wouldn’t go away. Every time you touched Aemond you couldn’t help but wonder if Alys touched him the way you did.

Sex was off the table. Aemond had tried, but you had denied him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him like that, all vulnerable, because he had been vulnerable with Alys. It disgusted you, how he let her touch him. Not only was she his professor, but there was at least a fifteen year difference. And of course, the face that he betrayed your promise of being faithful.

When Cregan and Jason came out with their own encounters with Professor Alys Rivers, everything became clear. She preyed on other students just like she had with Aemond. A manipulator was what she was.

On one hand, knowing Aemond was not the only one made you feel better, but on the other it made you see red with anger. How dare she use students for her own entertainment like that? The fact that she was only fired was a mercy to her. In your opinion, her whole career should be upended.

“How are you feeling, Pri-” Aemond stopped himself before he called you the once cherished name.

“I’m feeling okay. Just lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

“Can I sit down?” He gestured to the empty seat on the couch.

You smiled at him. “Of course.”

Silently, Aemond took his seat and the two of you sat there in the nice quiet. This was how most of your time was spent now. No touching, no kissing, just being in each other’s presence was enough for now.

You wished things could go back to normal but you know that is impossible. There will always be the memories and knowledge of what happened in the past; something that cannot be undone.

“I miss us,” you whispered.

Aemond gently reached for your hand and when you didn’t pull away he let out a silent sigh of relief. “I miss us, too. If I could do anything to take it all back, I would.”

“I know you would. It’s just all fucked up, huh?”

“Yeah.”

You rubbed your thumb against his knuckles and held on tight. While you couldn’t have everything right off the bat, at least you could still have this.

Three months have passed and slowly but surely things were getting better between the two of you. Physical contact no longer felt tainted and you could hold his hand in public without being afraid.

Alys has been less of a menace in your mind, which you have been grateful for. You moved back in with Aemond but haven't slept in the same bed as him. That's still too much, too intimate for you.

“Do you think we're getting better?” You asked Aemond one day. You were sitting at a cafe table.

“I like to think we are,” he replied. “I'll do whatever it takes.”

“What if it's not enough? What if we can never be happy together again?”

You began to worry. You couldn't imagine a life without Aemond, can't imagine sharing your life with anyone else.

“We are going to make it. I promise, I swear on my mother’s life that we will be okay.”

A single tear ran down your cheek.

Aemond was quick to wipe it away. You leaned into his touch. He was so warm, so familiar, so comforting.

“One step at a time,” you reminded yourself.

Six months had passed and there was laughter again. Laughter and smiles and hugs and kisses. Alys was a dissipating thought to both of you. She wasn't around so she couldn't hurt either of you anymore. Until you ran into her.

Finally, you and Aemond were going on steady dates at least once a week again. Back at your usual park, it felt nice to return to some sense of normalcy.

“Did you really say that to your professor?” You giggled. “Aemond, that's terrible!”

He shrugged. “He's a professor, he should have decent knowledge of the subject he's teaching.”

You bumped Aemond with your shoulder and continued walking until he grabbed your hand to stop.

“She's here,” he whispered. “Why the fuck is she here?”

You gave him a confused look. “What are you talk - oh.”

Across the other side of a little bridge was Alys. She was on a run, just like last time. Seeing her made you tense up. Not again. This can't be happening again. Aemond’s hands began to get sweaty and you looked at him with a broken look. You two were doing so well.

“Oh, the lovely couple,” cooed Alys when she crossed the bridge. She put her hands on her hips and leaned backwards to stretch, extenuating her chest. “I've missed you, Aemond. I'm sure you've missed me. Though I will say I'm surprised to see the two of you together.”

“Shut up, Professor Rivers,” Aemond ground out.

Alys walked up to Aemond, completely ignoring you. “Don't ‘Professor Rivers’ me now, babe. We both know where your true loyalty lies.” She went to touch him arm but Aemond yanked back and stepped closer to you.

“You fucking ruined me.”

“No, babe, you did that yourself.” Alys winked at him then turned to you. “Poor thing, choosing to be with the one who broke your heart. You're such a desperate little thing.”

“Get away from us,” you growled.

Alys cocked her head to the side. “Hm. I see the pup has some bite. Okay, I'll leave you two alone. But don't be surprised when he comes running back to me.” With one last wink to Aemond she was back to her jog.

Silence.

“I hate her,” he mumbled.

You looked down at the ground, too scared to see Aemond’s face. Alys’ taunt played in your head. He wouldn't go back to her. No.

“Is it true?” You hesitantly asked. “Would you go back to her?”

Immediately, Aemond turned to face you and grabbed your other hand. “No. I will never go back to her,” he swore. “Not only did she ruin us and you but she ruined me as well. I refuse to go back to her. You are all I want, all I need.”

Taking a shaky breath, you squeezed his hands. “I believe you, but it's sometimes hard to wrap my head around that.”

“I understand that you wouldn't trust me, and that's okay. I'll wait for you.”

Nine months had gone by and Alys has not shown up again, thankfully. Kisses, hugs, laughter. It was all back. Your trust has grown and your bond has become strong again.

Moving into the same room as Aemond was daunting but you knew it was time to be together again.

“Aemond,” you breathed against his neck. “I need you please.”

You were rocking yourself against him. He was hard underneath and feeling it was glorious. How you had missed this.

Aemond wrapped his arm around your waist. He kissed you back with passion and gentleness. “You will have me, I promise.”

With one smooth movement he locked your ankles around his waist so he could move you to the bedroom. With a flop you fell into the bed, arms open wide for Aemond to lay on top of you.

“Take it all off of me. Please,” you whined.

Without saying anything, he was quick to help you undress and then undress himself. You ran a hand down his chest, loving the feel of him under your hand. Lower you went, grabbing the thickness of his cock.

Aemond groaned as you bent down to give his head a small lick. He moaned as you took him all in your mouth. It felt great to make him feel this good again. You bobbed your head up and down, getting into a steady rhythm. Whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth you use your hand. Droll was dripping from your mouth but you didn't care. When Aemond started shaking, you released him with an obscene pop.

“My turn,” he growled.

Aemond pushed you back on the bed and spread your legs open. He kissed the inside of your thighs before slowly making his way to your core. You clenched around nothing as he began to kiss and pick and suck your clit. He had you arching your back into his touch. He had you moaning his name as he brought you to your first climax. At one point he removed his mouth and replaced it with his fingers, pumping in and out of you. He licked your clit while hitting that special spot inside you over and over again.

“Please, Aemond, I need you inside me,” you mumbled.

He was quick to stop and position himself in front of your entrance. Before he went any farther he asked if you were sure.

“Yes, I'm ready for you,” you told him. “All of you.”

In one swift motion, Aemond sheathed himself inside you. It felt so right like this. You and Aemond were made for each other. There is no other person for either of you.

Together you found a good rhythm, your hips rising up to meet his thrusts. He hit that special spot inside you each time and it had you clenching hard around him.

“Fuck, I can tell you're close,” he rasped. He bent down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “Will you come for me?”

You nodded your head weakly.

“Good girl.”

Aemond picked up the pace, rutting hard into you. You soon became limp with pleasure, losing the energy to do anything except lay there as Aemond pounded his cock inside you. It was the best thing you have felt in months.

“I'm going to come!” you cried.

“Come for me. Holy fuck -”

Aemond’s thrusts became erratic as you fucked you through your orgasm. All you could see were stars. You vaguely remember him finishing inside you but you were so wrapped up in your own pleasure it was only secondary to you.

He collapsed on top of you, careful not to completely squash you underneath him. Kissing you cheek gently, he rolled over to be next to you. Before he could pull away, you cradled his face and caught him in a passionate kiss. When you broke apart you looked in his eye and saw love.

“I love you, Aemond. And I don't want to let go. Ever,” you almost began crying.

“I love you too, and I promise I won't leave you again,” He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “My Princess,” he murmured.

And for the first time in nine months, your heart filled with love.

#fics by bean #modern!aemond #hotd au #hotd modern au #modern!aemond x you #modern aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you

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kissitbttr · 11 months ago

Text

“toji, baby? can you do alena’s hair please?” you call out from the kitchen, fixing simple breakfast for your little family,

he nods at you, giving a short kiss on your cheek as a confirmation before heading towards his little girl’s play pen. his eyes brighten when alena is busying herself with her my little pony plushies, adorable messy hair comes into view making him chuckle,

“hey ya sweetheart, having fun?” toji walks around to face his pretty baby, the sound of her dad’s voice causing her to look up. he swears the moment her big round eyes stare at him, he’s ready to kill anyone who dares to try take his daughter away,

with a toothy smile, she babbles away while clapping her chubby hands. feeling excited to see her dad there, seemingly cannot wait to be picked up by him,

“aren’t you the prettiest girl i have ever seen, hm? aside from mama of course. dunno what she sees in me. she’s a ten and i’m not. i’m happy she chose me, though. such a lucky bastard” toji makes sure to whisper the last word to himself because he doesn’t want his daughter to hear him cuss.

his hands go under her armpits before lifting her up, little legs kicking away in excitement making toji chuckles. “time to do my little alena’s hair!”

he brings her to the baby chair near the dining room, where you can see it too. your eyes look over your shoulder and smile at the sight of him setting your baby down,

“got anything to work on today?”

toji shakes his head, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up to the elbows. “nah. took a day off. i’m letting shiu handling it today”

one of your eyebrows quirks up, turning out to plate the cut up fruits and eggs on the table. “oh yeah? what if there’s something really important come up that you need to—“

“i need my girls more” he cuts you off with a soft voice and a grin, his eyes look up to you and see you mirroring his smile but it’s much more prettier to him. “plus, i’m sure they can handle not having their ceo for today. and tomorrow. maybe”

his fingers move to thread lightly under the strands of alena’s hair as she toys with a little action figure toji had gifted her few days prior. it keeps herself busied while he’s doing her hair,

“how about you, baby? got any meetings or anything?”

you shrug, grabbing a few utensils. “just one with the team to discuss the launch of our newest design. should be quick, though. hopefully. i need to speed up the process and everything because it seems that everyone is fuc—freaking slow.”

he chuckles, tying a band around alena’s mini bun. “i’m sure you can handle it, darling. you’re ruthless like that. one of the reasons why i fell on love with you, is it?”

“would you still, if i had to kill them?”

“absolutely” he answers without hesitation making you laugh,

“god, we are bad parents”

“don’t know what you’re talking about. we’re pretty good at what we’re doing” toji smiles at his baby, who suddenly chucks the toy towards the table. “damn, our baby got strength”

“got that from you, i think” you lean towards the table and snatch a cut up strawberry before plucking it into your mouth,

“nope. that’s from you” he corrects, softly patting alena’s hair that are sticking out. “remember when we had an argument and you almost hit me with—“

“we do not talk about that” you shake your head, not wanting to remember,

“was pretty sexy to me” he replies casually. “i was so turned on by that”

both of you share a laugh, causing alena to look up at both of you at the sound of it.

“so—do i get to see my pretty wife’s latest design or—“ toji trails off, planting a kiss on alena’s chubby cheek before grabbing a handful of berries for himself,

you tilt your head to the side, a small smirk tugs upon your lips and toji immediately catches what that look meant for,

“i see trouble” he eyes you for a second, chewing on the juicy fruit. “is it sexy? god, if it was you can’t keep teasing me, baby. i’d die”

“so dramatic, you won’t die”

“i will for you though” and he means it. “is it dresses? leather involved perhaps?”

shaking your head, you reply “lingeries, babe. night gowns, garters, panties. all that”

and toji suddenly stops moving. breathing even. his eyes widening at the mention of lingeries,

“oh fuck. you are killing me.”

“toji! language!”

but alena just laughs at her silly banter between her parents

#dad!toji #toji fushiguro #toji fluff

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megs-1800 · 2 months ago

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Pre-season Calls

Summary: When you and Mason are struggling with the distance, you try and spice up some facetimes during pre-season training.

Pairings: Mason Mount and Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Swearing and SMUT!

Written from Mason's POV

I opened the door to my hotel room, luckily we all ended up having a room to ourselves which is un-usual but I am loving my own time. I am currently in America on pre-season training with United. I am week 3 into preseason and I am already missing you more then anything, every time we speak I beg for you to come out but you say you cannot get the time off work. Its been hard with the time difference so we haven’t really spoken much and I know its had a toll on you. I asked my mum to go and check on you whilst I was away which she took you out for lunch and fed back that you are struggling with the distance. It breaks me knowing that you are struggling. All I am doing is counting down the days that we can see eachother again.

As I lay on the bed giving myself 5 mins after that intense training session I see my phone bing. “Hey my gorgeous boy! How was the training?”. I quickly feel the smile creep onto my face as I realise it was you. “Hey baby girl it was intense I am shattered! How was your day? How are you feeling today?”

I can see you read it straight away and are typing. That’s when I see the time its 6pm here that means its 11pm at home I wonder why you are still awake I quickly message you. “What you doing still awake baby?” I can see you are still typing. “I couldn’t sleep missing you too much ;(. Hurry up and come home”. My heart breaks at seeing that, I am trying to stay strong but I am missing her so much more then she probably thinks. As I think about what to reply, I see your name appear on the phone showing me you are facetiming me. I quickly answer.

“Hey baby girl.. are you sure you wanna facetime its late there”

“If you want me to go Mase I can if you are busy?” which your voice sounds defeated.

“No… god no I meant more for you. You have work tomorrow I just do not want you being too tired. But if you are okay staying up then that is good with me. I love seeing that beautiful face!” which you giggle with that.

“So training was intense was it? I really miss you Mase”

“Yeah training was hard today but I feel good which is the main thing. Believe me y/n/n its nowhere near as much as I miss you. Are you sure you cannot fly out? I will pay for it all if that’s what you are worried about. The other guys have got their partners coming up this weekend.”

“You know I can’t Mase, its got nothing to do with the money but thank you. Just I am only manager in one is off sick and the other is already off. My manager won’t let me, plus how would they cope without me?” I hear you giggle but I can here the sadness in your voice over it.

We continue to small talk, you tell me about work and families and I tell you about training and America. That’s when you let the phone slip a little and shows what you wearing, its not your normal cosy pyjamas that you usually wear to bed, it more resembles a lingerie set. “what are you wearing?” I ask. I can see you start to blush “oh so its turning into that kind of call is it?” you giggle.

“hahah do not change the subject, you not wearing pyjamas I can see you are wearing something lacey? Why you all dressed up to go to bed?” I can see your eyes darken with lust and I am wondering what you are going to reply. “Well maybe I brought you a little gift to wear when I next see you. So I was just trying it on?” you said with so much innocence but I know there is nothing innocent about your intention.

“Oh yeah is it? And then you just decide to wear it on facetime with me yeah?” I can feel my dick start to wake up at the anticipation on what you wearing. I love when you wear lingerie you are the most sexiest girl I have ever met. “Well I thought maybe we could try something”. You look at me shyly trying to gauge my reaction. I continue to stare at you I am so shocked we have never done anything like this before. Usually we send photos when I am on away trips but never anything like this, I never wanted to pressure you.

“Oh yeah is it? I think maybe you should show me that outfit!” I reply with anticipation, I can feel myself getting hard at the thought of whats to come. You smile and place your phone on the stand, I think it’s the stand I use when I am filming tiktoks or videos. You place the stand at the end of the bed and lie back on the bed propping yourself up with your arms. Its giving me a whole view of your body, you are wearing a small little bra that is completely see through so I can see your hard nipples through it and a small little thong which connects to the bra with a small amount of fabric on the sides, covered in complete black lace. I gulp looking at you trying to catch my breathe you look insane, I am the luckiest guy in the world.

“wow, you look fit as fuck. Fucking hell baby what are you trying to do to me. Look what you have done to him”. I pan the phone down to my throbbing dick so you can see the precum leaking at the top which makes you smile. “Look you could do an only fans sitting like that y/n” I joked. You laugh at that and give me a suggestive smirk “Oh yeah you would be okay with everyone else seeing me like this and in positions like this”. As you say that you turn your back to the camera and bend over so your ass is in the air. “Fair point that body is for my eyes only”. You turn back around so you are facing me, you look so incredibly sexy I am so ready to cum. I start to get to a pace that is good and begin wanking my cock to the sight of you, you are starting to play with yourself and seeing how you are touching your body fuck that is the most sexiest sight. The sound of the moans you are making I could listen to all day. The way you are fingering your self and grabbing your tits is going to make me cum. “Tell me what you want Mase, tell me all the things you gonna do to me” I try to find the words to say as I am so worked up I just need to cum. “Baby girl you are not ready for what I am going to do you. You are gonna come sit on my face and ride my face until you cum all in my mouth. I will then flip you over and smash you into tomorrow. Uhh fuck baby that feels so good”. I wimper the last bit getting close to my high. “Oh yeah baby I am going straight on me knees baby to have that cock hitting the back of my throat… fuck baby I am gonna cum”. I feel you reaching your high and the sight of you cumming is so sexy it helps me to reach my high. Which my load shoots up my chest. “Fuck that was amazing” I say breathless.

That’s when the sound of the door brings me out of my high, I quickly clean myself up and throw the Manchester United robe on and open the door a little when I see its Rashford at the door. “Yo Mase you coming down, gaffer needs us downstairs in 20.” I try and act normal and pretend that not even 30 seconds ago I was cumming over the sight of my girlfriend. “Yh sorry I lost track of time, I just need to get in the shower and I will be down”. I quickly shut the door and return back to my phone call with you. You look shattered. “You should go to sleep now, I gotta get ready and be downstairs I forgot we got a team dinner.” I see the disappointment in your face, but I can see you fighting the logic as you know I am right that you need sleep. “Okay baby, have a great night, I love you.” I blow you kiss “Sweet dreams beautiful, I love you too”.

The next couple of days are back to normal, we are tyring our best to speak as much as we can but the time difference is making it so difficult. All the other WAGs are now here which makes me miss y/n even more, all I want is for you to come here. The training has finished and we have the evening off. A lot of the boys are going out on dates, some of the other boys have invited me out but I just want to stay here and ordered room service and hope its not too late to speak to you. I opened the phone and sent you a quick text, I am a bit worried you haven’t text me all day. The next thing you know there is a knock at the door.

I am a bit confused as to who this could be as all the boys are going out and I haven’t ordered room service. When I opened the door there you stood. I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say I just stand there and stood frozen in my tracks. “Are you going to invite me in?” I nod and move to the side so you can let yourself in. As I have now realised I am not dreaming I wrap you in my arms and keep you a passionate kiss. “What are you doing here, I mean I have never been happier but you said you couldn’t make it because of work? Why didn’t you tell me because I would of come and got you from the airport?.” You smile as you sit down on the bed, you must be knackered from all the travelling. “I basically told my boss to authorise my leave otherwise I am calling in sick I couldn’t be away from you any longer and I wanted it to be a surprise”. I cannot stop smiling. “How about I go for a shower as I have bene travelling all day and we go for some dinner and have a proper catch up”. I nod agreeing to that and give her another hug and deep kiss.

As you back away I watch as you walk to the bathroom and start the shower, you come back over to your bag and got some stuff out of it and walked back to the bathroom. You quickly showered as I chilled on the bed with the biggest smile on my face, texting a couple of the boys saying you were here. You brought the attention back to you as you walked back into the room. Your hair was wet from the shower with it slicked back where its just been brushed. You still had some specks of water on your shoulders. You were wearing a red lace bodysuit that was completely see through so left nothing to the imagination. I felt myself get instantly hard.

“Fucking hell look at you!” I say still eying you up and down “is this new?”. You give me a little giggle as you make your way over to me. “Yeah I brought it in duty free on the way here, I thought you would like it.” I grab your waist and force you onto the bed so you are now straddling me. “Like it?! I fucking love it!” You begin grinding on me making me harder and I can feel the precum in my boxers. You help me get my joggers and boxers off and I quickly remove my top so I am under you completely naked. “Well now let me do what I said I would”. I watch as you position yourself inbetween my legs, I feel you start to put my dick into your mouth, giving it closed kisses and small licks and sucks and then all of sudden deep throating it out of nowhere. “ohh fuck y/n” was the only reply I could get out. You continue a rhythm with your mouth which I am fighting the urge to not cum, then I remember what I said I was going to do.

I grab you and shuffle you up, you look at me confused and then catch on to what I am doing. “I want you to ride my face more then anything right now y/n”. I see you blush but are more then happy to oblige. You place your legs either side of my head and slowly lower yourself down, I give you slow kisses and suck your clit to start it off. Then I start going to town, ensure I give you deep strong licks as well as focusing on the clit. I can feel your legs trembling so I know you are close. “Fuck Mase, please I am gonna cum”. You start riding my face which tells me you are nearing your orgasm, then I feel your body twitch and you cum on my mouth. I quickly lick it all up and flip us over so I am now hovering over you.

“I am not done with you yet baby”. I give myself a couple of pumps to make sure I am ready and slowly line myself up with your entrance. I push myself in giving you time to adjust. I give you a couple of slow thrusts and then one deep one and keep doing that a couple of times over to tease you. “Uh fuck please Mason just fuck me! I need you to fucking ruin me”. That is my que, I quickly grab the pillow next to your head and place it under your back to get your body in the right angle. “What my baby wants she gets!”. I slam into you at that and start hard and quick thrusts into you. I am now kneeling with your legs round my waist as I am shoving you up into me. “Fuck y/n I am so close, that pussy is fucking amazing!”. I can feel you clenching around my dick so I know you were close. I quickly started rubbing your clit alongside it to help you edge closer and that when you hit it. “Ah fuck M-M-Mase I-I am gonna” then I can feel you hit your orgasm as your eyes roll back and you grip onto the duvet. At the feel of that I let the load into you and collapse a sweaty breathless mess.

“Fuck sorry y/n/n I forgot to pull out” you look over at me and do not look as worried as I do, “its fine baby I went back onto the pill last month so don’t stress about it”. When I get my breathe back I roll over and look at you. “Have I told you how incredible you look when you cum?” you giggle at that “you have told me a couple of times yes.” I lay on my stomach and put my arm around your waist “Well if I am being honestly you look incredible every moment of every day”. I place a small kiss to your lips as you run your hands through my hair. “That’s so cheesy Mount, but I love you so much. Shall we start getting ready?”.

I nod and as you get up I quickly wrap my arms around you again “I love you so much y/n, I have missed you more then you will know”. We had another loving kiss and just stood there in the moment for a little before getting into the shower and getting ready for dinner. My heart feels full again having my girl back by my side where she belongs.

#mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #angst #fluff and angst #football #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #footballer x reader #footballer x you #manchester united #footballer smut #smut

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anika-ann · 1 month ago

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Precious Night, Holy Night - S.R.

Type: one-shot, establishished relationship, Christmas-themed

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 3,8k

Summary: The space is drowned in shadows, the night having fallen longs hours ago, the only source of glow being the Christmas lights and you, somewhere in the depths of Steve’s sanctuary. At least, that is what he hopes for.

His watch buzzes lightly, reporting that yet another hour he spent away has blended into the next one; and without checking, he knows it’s even worse. Not another hour – another day. Christmas Day.

He left you alone for one of the most special nights of the year.

Warnings: : light angst with hurt and comfort, light issues of self-worth (hello Stevie my dear), mentions of blood and injuries and injury-related pain (not reader), a bit of swearing, Steve being an angsty sap in love (totally a warning)

A/N: Inspired by a lovely song by Janek Ledecký – loosely translated lyrics through the text can be skipped of course. (If you’d like a listen, it’s here; what I adore most about it is the simplicity. No serenades, no extraordinary notes to hit, nothing, he doesn’t even pronounce properly at times – just an ordinary man professing his love, much like I feel Steve would). Divider by @saradika-graphics Enjoy and belated Happy Holidays 💕

Stepping into the apartment feels like the strangest dream; a dream that despite the soft warmth of his home feels fragile to touch, exposed to the cold coil of anxiety.

The space is drowned in shadows, the night having fallen longs hours ago, the only source of glow being the Christmas lights and you, somewhere in the depths of Steve’s sanctuary. At least, that is what he hopes for.

Hope always is a fragile thing, an antithesis to the solidity of fear; and as he closes the door as quietly as he can with one arm in a sling, he wonders whose fear is more suffocating. Yours, that one day, he won’t walk through that door after one of his many missions; or his, that one day, the figurative goblet of patience of yours will overflow and he will come back here only to find the space screaming with emptiness.

He knows the answer, objectively. But the heart and the head are not always in agreement; and he’s a lot more selfish that people seem to think.

He left you alone for one of the most special nights of the year.

You sleep, the clocks strike a late hour midnight is creeping step by step and behind it, Christmas

The clocks strike, like a cry for help as I await the longest night so that I could turn and look back

The pendulum cuts heavy through the air the vicious circle slowly closing – an anxious feeling drawing claws

There are moments like these when guilt bites heavy and sharp into his gut, his chest full of an ice-cold selfish fear. And he might know that you, staying behind and hoping he comes back alive, have it so much harder than him; but how could he ignore the obvious fact that you are a blessing that his own actions might chase away eventually? A blessing he never wants to let go and guards it with his life?

It is just that the very life sometimes gets in his way. The world does too; the goddamn world he too swore to protect and cannot ignore, because it is a world he lives in and so do you, and he’s saving it for its own sake, as well as his and yours.

And he cannot stay back, cannot merely bear witness from afar. He never could.

That was how he got into the whole mess of waking up seventy years into the future in the first place; that is how he was taken by the all-consuming storm of loving you so much the feeling alone makes it hard to breathe.

Sliding the strap of is shield casing off his shoulder, shrugging off the coat half-draped over his back, he cranes his neck a bit, feeling the stiffness; he nearly dozed off in the car, the heavy coil of dread as well as the giddy excitement of coming home barely keeping him awake. For once, he was grateful for Tony’s flare of dramatics and luxury and private drivers – driving in his state would not be wise, even as Steve would probably handle it despite his exhaustion. The problem was the snowstorm. And yet, even for that, he was grateful; as he walked home, the wind and the sharp snowflakes cut into his cheeks, prickling in his eyes, the sensation jolting him awake.

A little punishment for needing to be a hero; a little punishment for leaving you to be exactly that.

He shakes the melting snowflakes from his hair, ignoring the waves of ache in his left arm crashing down his forearm, then runs his unharmed hand through the wet locks. A few tips almost frosted over, now already giving way to the warmth of the space.

Taking off his boots too, Steve sighs, gulping against the lump that has grown in his throat, and steps further into the apartment, an anxious hope thrumming in his bruised ribcage.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – you dream, and on your lips a whisper: my love

Listening intently over the thunderous pulse in his temples, his shoulders slump suddenly, another tug of pain in his flesh; but by god, he is happy to have the pain ground him in the moment of reality, for it truly feels like a dream.

Your slow, regular breaths.

For the smell of Christmas and all the visual clues – from the decorations, the lights, the plate of gingerbreads you had baked together just before he left, down to your shoes and coats – it was the sounds of your peaceful sleep that undeniably proved your presence with finality. And soothed him.

He truly was coming home. And despite the mission not being a light one, despite his arm being broken in two places, despite the mission lasting way too long to his liking and happening with the worst possible timing – this is the thing that makes his eyes sting with tears.

This and the awfully sharp memory of him leaving, having got the call between decorating gingerbreads of the most ridiculous work-related shapes and preparing dough for Christmas cookies.

It’s so vivid in his mind, the image etched into his brain and bones. Your bright smile slipped, the gorgeous light in your eyes dimming, giving way to resignation and bravery. The mirage of joy dissipated in front of Steve like the steam from above the cups of hot chocolate he had prepared for you two to enjoy, his hands as if reaching out to hold onto it and only grasping air.

“Sweetheart-“

“I know, Steve,” you said, already moving to the sink to wash your hands, hiding your face away from him and tearing his heart in half not with the crack of emotion in your voice, but with the clear effort to mask it.

How he wished you’d screamed at him instead, mad and teary; because a wild emotion like anger meant people cared.

And that was his greatest fear, wasn’t it? That one of those days, you wouldn’t even care anymore.

You wouldn’t care whether he was with you; you wouldn’t care if he came back, because you’d be long gone. How many times had he cancelled dates, called off trips? How many times had he broken promises, only just a little, because he tries not to promise the impossible?

How he did wish he was capable of impossible, just for you. But he couldn’t.

How many times would finally be too many…?

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I-“

“Steve. It’s okay. I get it,” you said, turning to him at last. The glimmer of tears in your eyes – waking sensation in his chest awfully reminding him of the one time he had had a punctured lung – showed him just how wrong he had been.

No, he’d rather you didn’t care at all, that you didn’t hurt like this for him. Or did he? He was not quite sure.

But he sure knew that being the reason for your tears, even if kept at bay, was like an eagle’s claws sinking into his chest and pullingand pulling until it seemed it couldn’t even hurt anymore, but it did. Every damn second.

But you held your head so high, gaze shakingly latched onto his to prove he did not have to worry, because you understood his sense of duty; he did not have to worry, because that was what you agreed to deal with when letting him put an engagement ring on your finger with happy tears and a string of the sweetest yes, yes, yes-- that he did not have to worry at all, or not much at least; and that worried him all the more.

He’d pull a miracle if he could, he would, just to see you smile again, just to--- anything. But he could not ignore this, he could not ignore people needing his help, that was what he was born and made into to do, after all; but so was loving you. He wasn’t sure if he believed in fate, but there had to be a special kind of higher purpose in finding you after all the years of loneliness and yearning for someone just like you; you were made for each other, star-crossed lovers battling odds of being born seven decades apart. He must have been destined to meet you; destined to love you.

And now he was disappointing you, again.

How long until you’d stop believing that this was love?

How long until you’d move on to someone was here, always, because that was what your tender heart deserved?

No. Steve would pull a miracle, he had to, just to keep you smiling; just to keep you. A week had to be enough. No, to hell with a week, he’d be done in three days just to make it home in time-

“I’ll try my damnest to be home for Christmas, I promise-“

You shook your head gingerly, eyes turning warmer despite its wet glimmer, your smile a little wobbly – but oh so brave – as you reached out to cradle his face in your palms.

They smelled like gingerbreads and sugar and gentleness he wasn’t quite worthy of.

“Don’t, Steve…” you whispered, his heart dropping to his feet, an icy shiver cutting through his spine. “I… I don’t need you to promise that.”

“What can I do, then? What do you need?” he pleaded, the desperation at missing your Christmas, again, creeping into his voice so acutely he felt he might have shrunk several inches, all the way back to the times before the serum, a too little man, a fierce fighter who’d throw fists with determination much greater than his actual power.

Fighting; but oh so vainly.

Please, just let me fix this--- for you, for us. I have to go, I really do, but I’ll do anything to make up for not being here-

Your smile was a little broken by the edges, like one of those sculptures of angels, weeping for humanity and loving it all the same.

“What I always do, love. For you to come home in one piece and try your damnest to do so,” you echoed his words, your slightly hoarse voice growing stronger at the curse; and so did the steel of determination in his gaze in response.

Because he’d be damned before disappointing you that profoundly. He was always going to tear the world apart to get back to you.

“That I promise.”

That I can do. Always.

“Good,” you breathed.

You stood up on your tiptoes then, bringing your lips to his, pouring love and courage and fears he was too aware of into the kiss, much like wordlessly speaking your plea.

Come home. Come home to me in one piece.

And he would. Oh he would.

‘If we can’t cancel the stream of time,’ you said ‘then I only wish for one thing – for you to never leave me’ ‘alone, I’m a sailboat without wind’ And your lower lip wobbled, soft so I held you, with a vow to try my best

Following the sound of your breathing on instinct, Steve’s own hitches in his lungs, his steps ceasing far away from the bedroom. Instead, his gaze finds you laid on the couch with a view of the tree, sleeping soundly, a fluffy blanket draped over your form; and Steve’s heart aches, along with his neck, as if with sympathy for yours.

You admitted it before, under soft duress, that you sometimes struggled to sleep in the empty bed; you even joked that with how large Steve was, it truly was practically empty, your laugh a little shaky. As shaky as Steve’s legs now felt, the weakness having little to do with the exhaustion of the mission draping over him and everything to do with finding you home, losing sleep without him.

Bucky joked that maybe they should just lie under the tree once they get home, for their dolls to find them in the morning, like the greatest gift to unwrap at Christmas: because they made it home and made it in time.

Steve would argue with the latter; and about the former too. With how the couch was situated, made so you and Steve could rest, bodies half-tangled and your head on his chest, it is that you are now positioned like the greatest gift there could ever be.

And you are.

With your profile illuminated by the soft glow of Christmas lights, Steve is drawn to you like a believer witnessing an icon come to life; a miracle. You, still home, still awaiting him. As your hand fists the comforter, hands almost to your lips, your neck is exposed and so is the hem of Steve’s old shirt you chose as your attire along with a pair of too-long sweats peeking from under the blanket; his again.

Not just awaiting then; missing him. Caring.

His heart swells, the suffocating anxiety slowly giving way to something much more tender.

He steps closer, crouching in front of the couch, eyes feasting on the holy image, tempting to his touch. He does not want to rouse your sleep and yet, he swears he might die if he didn’t touch you this very second, didn’t see your smile upon seeing him home again – and as late as he is, still in somewhat in time.

Home for Christmas – hasn’t he said so?

He’d have run barefoot through the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn had the traffic frozen on the frozen streets, just to make it home to you. He’s glad he didn’t have to do that – but he would. After all, what is a little frostbite if you’d kiss him once he got home? Your lips could melt away the Arctic itself, your embrace a safe haven on the raging seas; he’d take another decade in ice if it meant meeting you. It if meant being loved by you.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – you dream, and on your lips a whisper: my love

As his gaze roams, he notices the light salty traces on your cheeks; ribcage rattled all over again, guilt gnaws at his stomach. You aren’t crying in your sleep, but at some point, you have cried. And it could have just been a sad song, or one of those cheesy but still touching Christmas movies, but his conscience knows better.

You have cried for him.

Worse yet, maybe you have cried because of him.

Hand twitching to sooth the pain already gone, he closes it into a fist instead; he would only be soothing himself, easing his guilt. You have cried and he hasn’t been there – whether that was correlation or causality didn’t matter. It was done. He shouldn’t disturb you. He’ll grab a little snack and sleep off the mission and start making up for his sins in the morning.

Glancing towards the kitchen area, he sighs quietly, gritting his teeth to stand without a hiss of pain.

“Steve…”

He freezes mid-motion, eyes snapping to your face again; a faint smile on your lips, your fingers flex around the comforter again.

In an instant, Steve snaps into preparing for explanations, apologies, his mind a whirlwind of whats and whys and sorries—

And then he realizes you are still asleep.

The soft waves of affection washing over him as he hears his name fall from your lips again nearly suffocate him all over again, the most pleasant weight settling in his heart.

And an uncontrollable urge. You have cried for him; but now, you are dreaming of him and there are no fresh tears; not in your eyes anyway. His fingers twitch again; no more worthy or justified than before, but with painful numbness which can only be erased by finally touching you.

He reaches out carefully, the pads of his fingers laid tenderly over your knuckles.

Due to all my missteps and fails should’ve been long out of the door

So now I whisper into your hair that you won’t get rid of me that easy

You all but stir minutely, a sweet frown to your brow, your breath remaining steady; Steve’s inner turmoil might not be resolved, but is eased enough as not to disturb you further. This is just enough; just enough to keep him sated and exactly as much as he deserves, not more, he thinks, mind set.

His fingers have a mind of their own however, guided by his heart.

The lightest brush over your hair, over the arche of your eyebrow, over the slope of your nose, over your soft cheek and the gentle line of your jaw, his fingers stopping but a breath from your parted lips. He commits your features to memory, revisiting a piece of art he knew by heart but would always reveal something new to him in its timeless beauty.

The brief discontent rumbling from within your throat and your body curling onto itself brings a smile to Steve’s lips as the memory of many mornings – those where he got to wake you up softly, himself already an hour or two ahead for the day – flashing through his mind, his fingers inching further, your breath tickling his skin before he dares to touch your lips.

And then, slow blinks, a sleepy gaze and pursed lips, curling up in a breathtaking smile.

Steve’s heart skips a startled beat, caught red-handed; but he’d commit the crime all over again, because you’re smiling.

The first time, the second time, every time he sees it; his breath hitches again, his ribs crying out; but he could die a happy man right there – maybe only if you kissed him.

You cover his hand resting on your cheek with yours, pressing a quick kiss to his palm, melting all his doubt away.

This. This spark of joy and relief, scrambling to sit up even as you slightly sway because he’s woken you up from a deep slumber, your eyes roaming his figure, taking count of his injuries, checking if he is indeed home in one piece.

And Steve is counting too; his blessings. You are every single one of them, even as you sigh at the sight of the splint and the no doubt still spectacular bruise the shape of a fist over his right eye.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers before you can scold him, or say anything at all, his voice shaky, a traitorous tear escaping his eye at the all-consuming emotion etched into your gaze, your sweet features.

Your free hand moves to cradle his cheek carefully, so tenderly for the fear of pressing too hard and making it hurt that it does hurt him – in all the best ways. His eyes slip shut at the sensation, his aching ribcage so blissfully full of affection he might burst.

And it might as well, when he feels your warm breath fanning over his face, before your lips press gently to his forehead.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – and you dream

“Sweetheart,” he echoes, a creak in his voice he is not proud of – but he feels some of your hot tears join his and his hand slips to your waist, guiding you to slide down the couch to join him on the floor, to hold you close and he could weep forever – not because you brushed over his broken arm despite your best efforts, but because it feels like he can finally breathe again, your body pressed to his, bruised ribs or not.

“Did I not tell you to come home in one piece?” you scold him without malice, a wet laugh escaping his throat as he nuzzles your hair, his lips brushing over your temple, your cheek, breathing you in to overwhelm his senses with you until his lips finally, finally find yours, careful but just as eager as his.

And the kiss tastes so much sweeter than the retort forming in the back of his head about how he is in one piece; his bones might not be, but the soft tissues are and the serum and the fast intervention of the talented Avengers Initiative doctors made sure that even his bones are already mending.

Judging by the look in your eye when you retreat to gulp in some air, you heard that train of thought anyway, despite being but an ordinary, extraordinary human. You convey so much emotion in a single glance, let alone with such lingering look.

You look like you want to call him two halves of an idiot and maybe smack him for whatever stunt you knew he pulled, even if you don’t; you look grateful he is your whole idiot and he is still here for you to smack him. Or kiss him again. He’ll take either; as long as you care.

As long as you love him, just as he loves you.

“I got home for Christmas at least?” he offers, earning an exasperated grimace, once again displaying your dilemma.

You choose to kiss him again, softly, a silent involuntary whine escaping him as you let him angle your head to kiss you deeper and consume you whole, and this, if this isn’t heaven, if this isn’t the best Christmas gift ever, you curled around him in a ridiculous shape less than three feet from a Christmas tree, he’ll be doesn’t know what is.

He doesn’t care. He only cares that he has you.

Later, he’ll marvel at how you automatically move to take a turkey out of the freezer to prepare for a Christmas lunch instead of dinner, how you saved him a sandwich just in case, and how his gifts, so thoughtful, are wrapped for whenever he’d come home; how you give him a certain kind of look and caress his cheek and peck his lips when he weakly suggests that you don’t and didn’t have to do any of that, but you never listen.

How your every action is a testimony to how you do not care about when you celebrate Christmas, only that it’s with him.

But for now, he has everything he wants and needs and could ever wish for. It still feels like he wished for too much, more than he’d deserve; but today, he can. It is Christmas, after all, and you are his everyday miracle, his greatest gift.

And for all the greatest gift he gets, he will work for hard every day – and he will cherish it and protect and adore no matter the time of year, keeping the most important promise he ever gave you.

He will always come home; and he will always, always love you.

I swear to you, I don’t always make it easy I swear to you, you won’t get rid of me that easy I swear to you, I’m never gonna leave you I swear to you – and you sleep, unaware my love

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you if you gave this a read, even post the main Christmas time ✨ If you find a minute, feedback is life 💕

May the end of the year be kind to you ✨

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #precious night holy night #anika ann

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manicpixiefelix · 1 year ago

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 6.

Summary: Felix learns about what happened between you and Oliver at the club, and some jackass makes assumptions about you and Felix and your intentions towards Oliver. The interaction gets you worked up enough that you feel the need to repay Felix as when he'd defended you. With sex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; AFAB!reader, d/s dynamics, felix being a chatty brat, assume the reader is on birth control, unprotected sex.

A/N: 4782 words. cannot go two chapters without having a felix/reader moment it seems. bare with me i swear we get more oliver as it goes on, but he's just watching through the blinds right now and collecting information. also forgive me, not only is this unedited, it's also the first actual, explicit smut scene i've written in years, and even longer since i've been intimate with someone with a dick. i also dont read smut so this might be weird pacing wise at the end. honestly the smut is just a backdrop for character development. have at ye, and please lemme know what you think!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Summer creeps in almost insidiously, days getting longer and warmer, humidity forcing it's way into every single facet of your lives. Afternoons outside of classes are spent doing not much of anything, hoping that when night falls, the temperature will fall with it.

This afternoon is the coolest you've had in several weeks, laying on Felix's floor, listening to him play the guitar while Oliver was draped over the foot of his bed, gazing at Felix's bookshelf. There's a sweet breeze through the open window and you hum along to the tune you recognise your best friend playing, letting yourself soak in the moment.

The quiet spell breaks as Oliver moves, reaches out for something on Felix's bookshelf.

"That's cute," he muses, "baby Felix." It must be the photo of Felix and his childhood dog, the you'd only met once or twice as a kid before he'd passed, before you'd been properly friends. But Oliver puts the photo back almost as fast as he'd picked it up, "there aren't any pictures of me as a kid," he muses.

"You and Y/N have that in common," Felix says idly, surprising both you and Oliver, though for different reasons; you hadn't even realised he'd remembered that about you. Your vapid, jet-setting, philanthropist parents had always been incredibly image conscious, and a child was never part of that image. Born out of obligation to their own parents to produce a grandchild to make eventual inheritance easier, they longed to distance themselves from the very idea of you unless they desperately needed to.

And they hadn't for as long as you've been alive.

"If there were baby photos of me, that'd prove that my parents had a child," you laughed, but there was no real humour in it, "and none of us wants that."

The invisible heir.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Oliver says faintly, an unfamiliar, unreadable look in his eyes as he gazes over at you. You give a blithe shrug.

"It means I got to find a home in Felix," you say easily, the wording sappy enough to make Felix himself laugh.

"You're such a sap, that's so much nicer than what I was going to say."

"Go on then, out with it," you prompted him, despite his faint, playful protest.

"I was going to call you another ward of the Saltburn Estate," Felix grins at you, "for better or worse."

"At least you had a family who loved you," Oliver turns away again, pressing his cheek to the duvet as his gaze focused back on the photo of Felix and his dog, "even if they weren't yours." There's a distinct discomfort in the air now, a reminder of how vastly Oliver's life differs from your own.

"I was lucky in a lot of ways," is all you can think to say. Felix starts playing guitar again.

These long days turn into long nights, parties, girls and boys and everyone in between, hazy chats and drinking games and hands on you - holding you, dancing with you, brushing past, tapping with excitement, always hands on you. The quiet way Oliver goes through these strange situations may be read as awkward to everyone else, but you're no longer under any such illusions.

"You're desperate to feel needed."

There was no hesitation in his voice the other night, his hands on you, his mouth on you.

"Then need me, want me."

How easily he'd made you flustered in the club, you didn't realise he had it in him. Honestly if you hadn't experienced it yourself, you wouldn't believe it if someone else had told you. There's been a change, however, a subtle, unnoticeable one to anyone looking in from the outside. Every so often, on nights out, you'll catch him watching you with that same hungry look in his eyes, but will never act on it, however much you wish he would.

"I do, but not like this, not now."

What the fuck was he playing at? You never knew how to bring it up, even when you were alone together. But he never stopped reached out for you, he never shied away from your touch. Apart from this one thing, it was the exact same as before.

If only that one thing didn't have the potential to change everything.

"Has Ollie seemed any different to you lately?" You go to the only person you know you can trust with this. Felix frowns at his hand of cards for a long moment before looking back up at you.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"Ollie," you go a little slower, rearranging your own hand of cards, "does he seem... I don't know, different to you?" Then, as Felix was considering, "got any fives?"

"Go fish." You should both be studying for an upcoming exam.

"What do you mean? Has anyone said anything to you?" Felix momentarily put down his cards to relight his cigarette, fixing you with an intense gaze, "did something happen?"

"Did someone say something to you?" You pivot for the moment, still looking at your cards.

"Annabel."

"Annabel?"

"About her birthday thing."

"Are you taking your turn or what?"

"Oh, right," he's still frowning, picking up his cards with his free hand, "threes?" You swear as you hand over two threes, as he quietly cheers.

"Anyways, what about Annabel's birthday thing? Does she has a problem with Ollie?" At your question, Felix ums and ahs, and avoids eye contact, "yes then?"

"No-one else in the group is a huge fan of him," he even sounds guilty admitting it out loud, "everyone else can kind of feel how out of place he is and it makes things awkward. I know we think he's lovely," Felix tried to quickly placate you, or perhaps his own conscience, "but the man's got zero chat." This does, however, make you snort.

"Ollie's got chat," you smirk down at your cards, only realising what you'd said when you're met with a shocked silence. Looking up, Felix is staring at you with utter surprise.

"Does he now?" He sounds downright scandalised. You can feel yourself growing flustered, both under Felix's delighted, intrigued gaze, and at your own memories from the club, "so something did happen?"

"Nothing happened!"

"Something definitely happened!"

"I didn't fuck him."

"Between nothing and fucking there's a whole lot of somethings that could have happened," card game completely forgotten, Felix is enraptured as you begin to briefly explain the interaction at the club -

"- and well then, he starts calling me out while aggressively making out with me," you take a deep, final breath, finally looking Felix in the eyes, "and I desperately wanted to fuck him because of it." You sigh, and give Felix plenty of time to process the story and recover.

"But you didn't?" Finally, he speaks, and you groaned, throwing your head back to look at the stars.

"No," you sulked, "he disappeared into the crowd and I had to get myself off twice before I could sleep that night. Fucking tease," but you're heart's not really mad at Oliver.

"Always fascinated to learn what turns you on," Felix is desperately trying to hold in his laughter. It's not working, "many of them baffle me."

"That's not the point here, Fi," you rolled your eyes, leaning back against the gravel roof finally, laying back. You hear the pebbles shifting, and moments later Felix joins you, hands behind his head, "I don't know how to talk about it with him," you say softly. Then, tone much lighter, "and it doesn't surprise me that Annabel thinks he has no chat, he just doesn't want to fuck her, and she can't fathom a world where anyone doesn't want her."

Felix laughs, but unfortunately isn't able to offer any real advice to you about your Oliver situation.

Oliver Quick was an anomaly in your life, you should maybe have suspected his friendship to bring on further anomalous occurrences.

"Leave Oliver Quick alone," like the voice in the library that greets you harshly whilst you're hunting down a textbook. Spinning to see who it is, you lay eyes on a blonde man in dreadfully practical clothes; he's glaring at you like you've done him some personal offense.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says sharply, gaze as unwavering as his tone, "you vapid -" he stops himself for a moment, face turning red with anger, "pricks," he settles on, "leave Oliver Quick alone, for his sake."

"Is this a joke?"

"Oh I'm not one for jokes, especially not with the likes of you; I know how you and Mister Catton operate. Selfish," he hissed.

"Do I know you?" Its genuine confusion, and for a moment the man's expression turned annoyed, his righteous indignation turning to faint disappointment as you refused to take him and his request seriously.

"Michael," like it should mean something to you, "Michael Gavey;" still nothing, "I was in the year below you at high school for four years."

"Well, Michael," you start slowly, bordering on condescending, "Ollie's a big boy -"

"I know you; you'll get bored, you two always do," Michael cuts you off with a sneer, some of that anger from just earlier returning, "he deserves more than to be a footnote in your frivolous little lives."

"Fuck off, Mikey." You say it as a warning.

"Michael," he corrects through gritted teeth, "Felix is a slag, which makes you the sensible one, so I thought you'd actually listen -" but the realisation hits you, right as you start to see red.

"You've already tried talking to Ollie," immediately, your tone ices over, humourless, cruel little smile twisting the edges of your lips. Noticing your change in demeanour, the fight seems to drain out of Michael before your very eyes, "and he ignored you, didn't he?" You asked, already knowing the answer from the way he was trying to stammer through an answer.

"Now, Michael," you tell him with a poisonous smile, taking even, measured steps towards him, as you turn his name over on your tongue with as much malice as you can manage, "Michael Gavey, I think I do know you," you're playing with your food, drawing out his discomfort with every slow word; you weren't cruel by nature, not unless someone found which button to press, "first year," you drop your voice low as you get into his space. He starts to shrink backwards, but you're practically on his toes until you're crowding him against the bookshelf, "math genius, shouts in the dining hall -"

"I didn't- just once-"

"If you ever," there's a furious look in your eyes behind your sinister smile as you stand toe-to-toe with Michael, "and I mean fucking ever, breathe the word slag in Felix's direction, or any other insult for that matter," you wet your lips, "I promise the only job you will ever get for the rest of your life will be that of a high school English tutor," you pet his cheek condescendingly, "for students with dyscalculia."

Michael actually shudders.

"You know I can do it too, don't you?" You press, and he nods, looking both furious and ashamed where he can't look you in the eyes, "we went to high school together, Mikey, I know where you came from, I can dictate where you will go." Stepping back, you clear your throat. Nodding to him, you turn on your heel to head further into the library, to continue searching for your book.

Trying to move past it doesn't work, it still irks you, you still can't stop thinking about his weaselly little face, the bitter sneer he wore, and the cruelty with which he spoke about you and Felix. It haunts you. The audacity.

Textbook in hand, you immediately head for the patch of greenery and trees near Oliver's dorm, where you know Felix and the rest of your friends will all be spending their afternoon.

"Ooh~ Y/N coming in hot," Farleigh called, spotting the metaphorical cloud of thunder above you before anyone else.

"What are you doing now?" Ignoring everyone else, you only have eyes for Felix. He grins up at you from where he was using Farleigh's thigh as a pillow.

"I assume whatever it is you're about to ask of me," he says blithely, while the others watch the interaction with amusement.

"I need to rant," was all you said, and Felix held out his hand for you to help him up.

"You're so sexy when you're angry," he says teasingly for the whole group to hear, "has anyone ever told you that?"

"I'm not kidding," you scowl, and his grin widens.

"I know, that's the best part, I could listen to you yell for hours, I usually never get to hear it." The banter continues on the way back to your dorm. The others know it's probably a cover, though none of them, apart from Farleigh of course, know the truth. Most assume you're moments from a breakdown and would like to have your best friend there for support.

The minute you're back in your room, you slam the door shut and toss the textbook to the side. Felix asks you what's wrong, tone still light, and you can feel that protective anger flaring up in you.

Slag.

"If you don't hold me back I might start getting into scraps," you tells him with seriousness, stalking up to him with intent, planting an almost bruising kiss on his lips as you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. It's not often that you're the one getting riled up; Felix is more than enthusiastic.

"Don't fight on my behalf," he laughs, frantically pulling off his sweater. Pausing for a moment to help him with the pullover, the minute it's off and tossed to the side, you're unbuttoning his shirt with one hand as best your able, as he's trying to tug your shirt off in the chaos. The two of you are moving to the bed, and he actually gasps when the back of his legs hit, when you take a beat to raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking permission.

He's already letting himself fall back with a wicked, delighted grin as your hand finds his bare chest.

Then he's breathless, with you braced over him, gazing down at him with a furious determination that you don't usually allow yourself to build up. Felix looks up at you with pure extasy in his eyes, like you hang the stars in the sky. His hands on your ass, his grip is firm and secure, but he doesn't move; he's letting you lead.

"Felix Catton, I ruin lives for you," you practically snarl; a breathy laugh escapes him, caught up in the moment, in the mood that's been building within you, "doesn't feel like enough sometimes -"

"You're so fucking hot," he groans like he can't even help himself, can't hold himself back, can't help but close the gap to your lips, kissing you with that same intensity you're giving him.

"If I hear-" you punctuate your words with rough kisses, "another word-" biting at his lips, "against you, I'm -" fumbling with his belt, "I'm gonna start cutting people -"

"Yeah?" Felix prompts breathlessly with a sharp grin, not even waiting to get your fly all the way down before his hand is in your pants, fingers at an awkward angle in your jeans but still finding your clit. It's like you're feeling everything tenfold with the earlier outrage still burning in your veins -

Vapid pricks. The likes of you. Slag. Watching Felix's hands on the girl in the club. The venom in his voice and fury in his eyes when he'd pinned Farleigh to the wall to defend you - Our Felix; Oliver's voice like honey in your ears, tempting that jealous creature in your chest that you'd gone for years ignoring -

"My Felix," you'd purred as your hand found his cock. For a moment, his breath came out as a stutter, eyes going wide as they meets yours. He looks almost incredulous, then, after a moment, hungry, wanting. It's captivating; he's captivating, like he's desperate to devour every part of this moment and you in it, barely holding himself back.

"One more time for me?" He requests, voice low and pleased, before he changes tactics, indicating for both of you to actually take off your pants.

"Everyone's fucking wrong about you," you tell him, kicking your jeans to the side, watching for a moment as he shimmies with his jeans, looking like he's made of ninety percent limbs. Still, your intensity holds.

"Even the people that like me?" Felix laughs, finally getting himself free of the jeans. Before he can remove his boxers, however, you're on him once more, thumbs hooking into the waistband and pulling them down slowly as you speak.

"Everyone else has these versions of you in their head," you begin to plant kisses along his inner thigh as you work your way up, looking up at him through your lashes, "where you're either an angel who can do no wrong," Felix is already hard when you begin to slowly work your hand up and down the shaft of his cock, "or the absolute devil who's a scourge on the female population," your lip curls for a moment, a derisive kind of amusement at their imagined expense.

"I can't look at you right now," he half chokes out, head falling back against your duvet, "fuck," he gasps. It's enough to bring you back to the moment, and you apologise -

"No, fuck, don't stop anything; the ranting, the -" he gestures to where your movements had slowed briefly, "any of it, I just literally," he laughs a little awkwardly, almost a little self-deprecatingly, "will not last more than a minute if I look at you right now."

Oh.

Oh! This is good!

"What's so different," he prompts through shaky breathes - you can't quite believe how much he's effected by you in this moment, how enthusiastically, how desperately he responds to your dominant intensity - "about the version of me in your head?"

After a beat, you climb off of him, already reaching for your drawer.

"Everything okay?" He asks, eyes opening as he tilts his head to look at you. Pulling out a tube of lube, you focus on opening it up, rather than Felix himself. You should be using protection, you know you should be using protection, but you want to feel all of him, only him.

"I can't talk with my mouth full," you told him, still maintaining that steely intensity, "so we're skipping foreplay." Felix, immediately understanding where you were going with all this, looks back up at the ceiling with a wide smile.

"Fine by me; right now I'm inclined to say that you can do whatever you want forever, honestly - cold!" He announced with shock, jerking up a little as you glided a generous amount of lubricant over his cock. There's a faint look of betray in his eyes, but you just gave him a thin, mean smile.

"Felix, stop talking."

The commanding tone is enough to get him back on board, groaning, arching into your touch as you once again were working his shaft, now so slick your hand glided easily up and down the impressive length.

"My Felix," voice once again low, you use some of the excess lubricant on yourself. Since leaving the library, however, your anger had known it's outlet; just the idea of fucking Felix in a righteous fury had gotten you going, and you were already wet, wanting, desperate for him.

"Don't make me beg," he all but whimpered as you finally straddled his thighs, "fuck, I'll do it for you, but -"

"Shut. Up. Felix." You leaned down, chest pressed to his lips inches from his, whispering, "I won't make you beg," as you sink down onto his cock, swallowing his moan with a kiss.

"I am under no illusions about you, Felix," you begin to murmur, hips rolling at a deep, consistent rhythm, "I don't have a version of you in my head, I just have you; I just want you, as you are."

Pace picking up, you sit, rake your nails lightly down his chest, watch as he pants and groans beneath you. When he holds your hips, your thighs, you can feels his nails digging in, burying himself deep inside of you with each rhythmic thrust. There's something primal and triumphant roaring in your chest, pushing you to sink your nails into him, your teeth -

"I don't care who you fuck," you tell him through gritted teeth, picking up your pace, thighs burning.

"You're a fucking liar," tumbles from Felix's lips as he looks up at you with a smirk.

"I don't, I'd be a hypocrite -" very suddenly, Felix sits up, and you go still with him still inside of you, adjusting to the change, wrapping your legs around him.

"Then you're a hypocrite," he smirks, gaze hazy, heady, euphoric in this moment, "and a liar," and he wraps his arms around you as he kisses you, pulling you back with him as he lays back down on the bed.

"I'm not jealous," you start again, softer this time, but still aiming for stern.

"I'll say I believe you," there's mischief in Felix's eyes as his hand snakes between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles against your clit as you pick your rhythm back up again, slower this time.

"Fi," for the first time all afternoon, your voice softens, and you let your stern demeanour break, instead looking over him, glowing with sweat and endorphins, in your bed, in you, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, "I don't care if nobody knows it's me, but -" you wet your lips, wicked little smile on your lips, "I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Something about your words, your request, perhaps your tone, sets him off again; you rake your nails lightly down his chest again and he arches up, swearing, almost breathless.

"Yes, fuck, yes," comes out alongside a breathless moan, "my Y/N, anything you want - please."

You paint him blue and purple and the deepest, prettiest red with hickeys, leaving him looking absolutely scandalous. Of course he returns the favour in the form of scratch marks up your back and his teeth almost drawing blood from your shoulder. When he comes it's with your mouth on his neck and his cock deep inside of you, holding you close, holding you steady, whispering incoherent praise into your ear. Always diligent, he doesn't move, doesn't pull out or away from you before his focus is on you, making sure you get off, delighting in watching you unravel on top of him.

In the afterglow, amid the sharing of a cigarette and catching of your breath, you apologise softly.

"What are you apologising for?" He immediately cracks a grin, "in fact, any time you ever start to get all worked up and mean like that, have me on speed dial -"

"I - no, Fi," you sighed, amused at his suggestion, though it was fading fast, "I just... try not to be jealous," there's faint notes of guilt now that you've come down from the adrenaline and endorphins of it all. Sitting against the headboard, you draw your knees up to your chest.

"I know," Felix says easily, sitting up beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, his hand on your knee, "I try too... I don't think I'm always that great at hiding it." Then, after a moment, his tone lightens, "I think this is why I don't want to tell people about us, I don't think I could begin to explain it in a way that makes sense." It gets you to laugh, leaning into him, tension and guilt easing.

"I thought it was the rush of sneaking around and lying to people."

"There's that too," he agreed with a chuckle. The two of you fall into easy silence as he takes a drag on the cigarette and hands it over. The afternoon is sticky-hot, especially in your room, curtains still half open but window shut. As you go to open it, not caring about potential onlookers in the twilight, past the sliver of your curtain, Felix speaks up.

"There's no version of me in your head? Not even a little bit rose-coloured-glasses tinted?" He grins at you, and you lay out on the bed, looking up at him through your lashes. After a moment of simply taking the moment in, you shake your head with a soft smile.

"I told you, I'm under no illusions about you, Fi."

"I think you're too good to me for that to be true."

"I want you as you are, dude," you shrug, as if it's the easiest truth in the world.

"As I am?" He wants to be sceptical but his tone and the look in his eyes betrays him. You've never heard him quite so soft you think, eyes wide and glassy and full of conflict and love; everyone wants him, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be him or be with him, he's reckoned with his reality a long time ago, even if he wasn't entirely conscious of it. Felix's life had been picked apart by everyone around him at the surface level for as long as he could remember, perhaps he'd thought that no-one would ever care to look deeper. Perhaps he'd gotten so used to it that he'd forgotten there was anything deeper.

"I want the Felix who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months, and who's cheated on every single one of them with me," you start, wearing a grin despite his sudden frown, "I want the Felix who hugs and kisses strangers after just meeting them because he's bursting at the seams with affection, I want the Felix who won't admit that he sleeps better with someone next to him at night, and the Felix who recaps the books he's been reading to me like they're gossip. The Felix who uses people, and breaks hearts, who says he doesn't know he's doing it but I know you do," you laugh, sitting up on your knees and letting the blankets slide down your back as Felix looks up at you now with a fond kind of reverence, "I want the Felix that lights up every room he's in without even trying, who makes everyone around him feel like they're the only person in the world, and that same Felix who still shifts over, mid conversation with someone else, for me to sit down beside him without having to even ask, because you know we'll always come back to each other," you lean down, lips inches from his, burning intensity in your gaze as you take in the reverence in his eyes, "the Fi who fights for me, the Fi who loves that I'd ruin lives for him, my Felix -" You see the moment he can no longer hold himself back, arcing forward, moving from the headboard to be by you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. For a long moment it's your mouth fitting perfectly against his, faint, desperate groan being pulled from the back of his throat as he takes your face in his hands, firm, warm, wanting, deepening the kiss.

"Some of those things were pretty shit," he laughed a little self consciously after the kiss breaks, both of you breathing heavy. In his eyes you can see the barest hint of conflict.

"People have said worse."

"And you got them expelled," he reminded with a faint smile, but again there's that conflict, "and they aren't you."

"You're my best mate," you laugh easily, "that shit, the good and the less good, makes you my Felix. Be pretty shit of me to want to chop and change who you are, you know?"

For a very long moment, you watch the way he slowly begins to smile, to take all your saying in drinking in this sun-drenched moment. Reaching out, he carefully touches your cheek.

"Say it again then," he prompts, sounding almost giddy, feather-light touches as if mapping your delicate features in this moment. For a brief second you're confused, barely angling your head to indicate as such before you can see his faint blush beneath his golden skin, creeping up his cheeks. When he laughs, almost self conscious, you realise, and grin back.

"You're a sap."

"Don't make me beg."

"My Felix."

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