#also both are so incredibly soft despite everything
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808trunkgoingcrazy · 2 months ago
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na jaemin is so aman mathur from kal ho naa ho coded
i want them both.
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sturnsdarling · 2 months ago
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I don't know how to forget you
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matt and y/n have been best friends their whole life, but after a drunken kiss and a night of tangled limbs, everything is changing.
vibe check: smut throughout (pretty equal sex dynamic, softdombutneedy!matt / subbutdeviant!reader), fluff, (resolved) angst, childhood best friends to idiots to idiots in love, y/n is scared of love (aren't we all), soft!matt, depressed!matt/reader, soppy confessions of love
this is a long one, kids: 12k words.
A/N: I LOVE THEM!! anyways this whole thing is based on one of my favourite songs of all time so if you don't know then get to know. I had so much fun writing this so I hope you love it as much as I do. IDIOTS IN LOVE SUPREMACY🗣 also tysm for over 200 followers you guys are insane
moodboards for this fic
love and cigs, merc
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You burst into the house back first, Matts hands clawing at your waist and his lips moving against yours in a clash of teeth and tongues, your arms draped over his shoulders as your hands desperately clung to his messy brown hair.
He kicked the door shut with his foot, one hand coming to your jaw to pull you into him deeper. You both clumsily walked towards his bedroom, Matt leading you backwards with closed eyes, just about missing the couch. Your hands left his hair and found the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head with vigour, breaking the kiss for a brief moment before crashing back into each other. Heavy breathing and small moans were the only sound in his house as he attempted to unbutton your shirt, not yet breaking the kiss and fumbling at the tiny circles that kept your body from him. He groaned into the kiss in frustration, biting your lip slightly before tearing your shirt open in one fowl rip. You chuckled into the kiss, Matt followed suit and your back hit the hard wood of his bedroom door, your arm frantically finding the door handle behind you.
When you finally gained entrance, still locked in an all consuming make out session with Matt, you slipped your hands between your bodies and began to untie the knot in his joggers, his whole body twitching at the sensation. Matt broke the kiss, panting, his forehead leaning on yours. 
“I thought you said we weren’t gonna do this anymore” He said through frantic breaths, his lips still brushing yours. 
“I know what I said” you muttered, finally undoing the bow that acted as the gatekeeper between your hand and his aching length, the swift insertion of your cold hand into his warm boxers acting as a mic drop to your statement as you pulled him into you once more. 
“So” Matt pulled away for a brief moment, missing the heat from your plump lips and kissing you before he spoke again, “what’re we doin” he panted. 
“Just shut up and kiss me, Matt” you shook your head, wrapping your hand round the back of his head, nearly giving him whiplash at the speed you pull his lips back to yours. 
One month earlier 
You and Matt had been seeing each other for about six months, it all started as an innocent drunken kiss at a birthday party, that same night ending with you underneath him on his satin sheets, getting pounded into at a rapid rate. You had both decided that, as two consenting adults (your exact words when you propositioned him the idea) you should start sleeping with each other on a regular basis. What was the harm right? The sex was good, you knew each other inside and out, having been friends for basically your whole lives, and you knew that no matter what happened, you’d always love each other unconditionally. 
At first it was amazing, the sex was obviously incredible and, outside of the bedroom, basically nothing changed. No one had even noticed a difference between you two, your dynamic already being touchy and somewhat flirty prior to your decision to hook up every so often.
Despite the occasional stolen glance and white knuckled night out from being forced to watch one another get hit on by random strangers at bars, it was honestly really normal, at least it felt that way.
Being with Matt was easy, he was kind and caring, being around him was like being with yourself, there was no bullshit and no expectations. You just, saw each other, truly and completely. 
As time went on, the sex became something more, it stopped being about simply acting on an urge and started being about the closeness. The intimacy of it all. You craved him, and he was addicted to you. He stopped flirting back with the girls that pushed themselves against him at bars, and you stopped entertaining the boys that bent over backwards to get your attention. Neither of you had noticed it at first but, no one was interesting anymore. No one understood you like the two of you did, no one even came close. No one could make you laugh like he did, and no one could bring him out of his own head like you could. No one knew your body like him, and vice versa, and soon enough, the sex started to change the way you saw each other. 
Instead of seeing Matt, your childhood best friend and the kid that accidentally broke your arm by landing on you at the bottom of a snowy hill when you were kids; you saw Matt, a lingering presence of safety in a crowed room and a blissful night of endless orgasms. Instead of seeing you, the fourth wheel in his little family and the girl that bullied him for being five foot nothing until he was sixteen, he saw you, a beaming ray of light in his life and the sexiest woman he’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 
The shift didn’t seem to matter, as far as you were both aware, nothing had changed. That was until one night when you were hanging out with Matt as you always did:
You and Matt were half naked, tangled up in one another on his bed, watching gravity falls for the billionth time and enjoying each others company.
You were rested against his headboard, clad in his t-shirt and your underwear, and he was rested in-between your legs, his bare back comfortably wedged between your thighs as his long, plaid pyjama pant covered legs spread over the length of his bed. Matt turned his head to the side, peppering a small kiss on the side of your leg before shifting to lift himself up off his bed, the loss of his warm pressure against you almost painful. 
“m’gonna go get a drink, baby, y’want anything?” He said, standing up and hovering next to the bed. 
You shook your head, looking up at him, “I’m good, thank you”. 
“Okay” he leant down, the weight of his arms making the bed shift under you as he placed a tender kiss on your lips, your mouths slotting together effortlessly. 
He walked out the room and the door clicked shut. In your momentary solitude, the game changing realisation infiltrated your brain.
He just called you baby, and not when you were fucking, he called you baby like, like it was your name, like it was the easiest thing to call you in that moment, like it felt right to him so he did it, or even worse, that he didn’t even think about it, like that’s who you are to him.
A sudden wave of panic came over you, the events of the last however many months flashing through your brain. The longing looks, the small jealous comments that went over your head, the lingering touches when you were with your friends, his desperation for you after being apart for any longer than a couple days. All of it started to come together in your mind as one big puzzle of ‘holy fucking shit he has feelings for me, and not just I care about you as a friend but I also wanna fuck you feelings, real feelings’. That wasn’t the scary part though, the scary part was how effortless it felt, to you. How it all just made sense with him, how it was never weird or awkward, how you felt completely safe with him, how you felt genuinely and utterly, loved by him. 
Your rapid mind was interrupted by Matt walking back into the room. 
“Chris drank all the fuckin’ soda already, kids an addict I swear to god” he said, holding a glass of lemonade.
You chuckled slightly at his remark, your eyes fixated on your fingers as you picked and pulled at the skin of your thumb. Matt fell backwards onto the bed, half his weight on your legs. The pressure suddenly made you uncomfortable and, without really thinking about it, you pulled your legs from under him and tucked them under yourself. The movement made Matt turn up to look at you, finally noticing your weird demeanour. You never pulled away from him, if anything you did the opposite, especially when you were alone. Matts brows furrowed as he turned to lay on his stomach. 
“Hey, you okay?” He asked softly, rubbing a gentle finger on your leg.
You shifted under his touch again, which worried him, a lot. He shifted and raised himself up to sit in front of you. He hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up. 
“What’s the matter?” He questioned, his voice thick with concern. 
You shook your head, his baring blue eyes making you feel claustrophobic in your own skin.
“m’fine” you said, attempting to look away from him. 
Your energy was jarring, and Matt was utterly confused, what the fuck had happened in the maybe twenty-seconds he had been gone and why were you suddenly acting like you didn’t even want to look at him? 
“Y/n/n, I know when you’re lying, what’s wrong?” He said, trying to find your eyes again. 
You didn’t reply, only returned to picking at your thumbs. Matt simply stared at you, unable to understand why you were suddenly a tense and anxious ball of energy. 
After what felt like an eternity, you broke the silence, your voice coming out in a choked strain. 
“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Matt” your eyes didn’t leave your skin. 
Those nine words hit matt like a bus, knocking the wind out of him as his mouth parted in a feeling he could only describe as agony. 
“Do what? As in, do this” he said, gesturing to himself and then to you. 
You finally raised your head to look at him, a deep sadness hiding behind your emotionless face. “I don’t think it's a good idea, it’s gone on for way longer than either of us expected, and—“ you huffed, “I just can’t do it anymore” you tore your gaze from him, incapable of the decency it took to look him in the eye as you tore his heart from his chest. 
“wh—“ Matt muttered, “where the fuck has this come from?” He shook his head, eyes squinting and brows scrunching together. 
You didn’t reply, only shifted in your own skin. Your aloofness was like sand paper against Matts skin, he barely recognised you. His mind raced with the endless mind boggling possibilities as to why you didn’t want to be with him anymore, but they all centred into one crippling thought. 
“Is there someone else?” He said, his voice dropping an octave. 
“No” you said immediately, the ‘there could never be anyone else’ staying tucked between your teeth as your head shot up to look at him. 
“So what is then? Did I— did I do something?” His tone faltered, coming out as almost apologetic. 
You shook your head, gnawing at the inside of your cheeks, “I just — you — I — ” you couldn’t find the words to make it make sense, because it didn’t, it didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of the walls closing in around you. 
“Y/n/n” your name rolled off his tongue like honey, his head shifting on his shoulders towards you slightly, his brows still knit firmly together in confusion that looked a lot like sadness. 
“I have to go” you said, unable to look at him for a second longer in fear of bursting into tears. 
“Wait—” he said, reaching out for you as you climbed off the bed and picked up your jeans that were sprawled across the floor.  
“Matt, I have to go” you cut him off, picking up your things and hurrying out the door, not looking at him for even a split second. 
You shut the door behind you and he opened it almost immediately, following you out into his kitchen, watching as you raced down the stairs.
“Y/n” he called out your name, but your pace didn’t falter, and in a flash and a slam of his front door, you were gone. 
He stood at the top of the stairs, blinking at the closed door a head of him. 
On the sofa, Chris and Nick were staring at him, waiting for him to say something and sharing flitting glances back and forth with one another. 
“What the fuck was that about?” Chris said, breaking the deafening silence. 
“Is she okay?” Nick followed his brothers questioning. 
“I have no idea” Matt said, that simple fact being the only thing he did know. 
You threw yourself into your car, slamming the door shut. The sound rang through your ears and the silence that filled the vehicle after was enough to send you tumbling into your sadness. Tears brimmed at your eyes as heavy, fast pants rapidly escaped your nose, you felt awful, you had no idea what you were doing, why did you leave like that? Why didn’t you just talk to him, he’s your best friend, why didn’t you just say something? Anything? What would you even say? I think you’re in love with me and I’m terrified that I love you too? Being with you like this has been the best six months of my life? the thought of losing you makes me feel like I'm dying? Any attempt to try and put how you felt into words made you spiral, and after a pent up moment of burning holes into the black leather of your steering wheel, the flood gates opened. 
“Fuck!” you screamed, tears cascading down your face and you hit the wheel with the palm of your hands over and over again.
You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were drowning in your own mind and had no way of coming to the surface. Your relentless mind was exhausting, and when your hands started to sting from your merciless slaps against the brittle leather, you clutched the wheel, resting your forehead against the material with closed eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with me” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head against the wheel. 
You pulled one hand off the wheel and turned the key in the exhaust, starting the car as you lifted your head, taking a deep, calming inhale.
You gripped the wheel once more, turning your head and looking to Matts house, all you wanted was to go back inside, tell him that you’re scared, absolutely fucking terrified of how you feel about him, but you didn't, instead, you clenched your jaw, ripped your gaze from the house and pulled out into the street. 
On your drive home through the nearly empty LA highways, your mind raced with the events of the last six months, the orange streetlights periodically illuminating your car. Your playlist blared through the speakers on full volume as your unsuccessful attempt to drown out the sound of your own thoughts was brought to fruition, ‘sex’ by eden started to play, the drums and claps filling your senses as the piano melody took your mind to the last six months. 
The longing looks;
You were wrapped in a fluffy towel, your wet hair cascading down your shoulders as you lazily rubbed moisturiser over your clean face in Matts bathroom mirror. The door clicked open, and Matt softly padded into the damp steamy room, cold air following him in. His presence didn’t disturb you, you continued to do your skincare routine as he came up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and sneaking his long tattooed arms around your waist. Neither of you said anything, you didn’t even look at him. In that moment, his presence was simply an extension of your existence.
As you softly massaged a hydrating serum into your soft skin, Matt couldn’t help but stare at you in the reflection. He loved you like this, your most pure and natural self, skin still littered with drops of water from the shower and your hair forming loose curls as it dried messily over your shoulders.
He watched you intently from his perched position just beside the curve of your neck. He thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and he could never get tired of looking at you. His gaze was heavy on your face, and once you’d finished applying all of your products, you let your eyes flit to his in the mirror, finally locking eyes with him. His mouth instantly curling up into a smile when you shot him a small grin. 
“You’re so beautiful” he said, his eye contact never wavering. 
Your smile grew and you dropped your head slightly, shaking it with an embarrassed chuckle. 
Matt squeezed you tighter to gain your attention again, missing the piercing warmth your eyes gave him. He picked his head up slightly and began to pepper short pecks on your damp, vanilla scented skin. The pecks slowly turned to small open mouth kisses, the warmth of his tongue against your skin sending shivers up your spine and encouraging a pool of wetness to collect between your legs. You let your head hang to the side slightly as he moved his kisses up your neck, stopping as he reached just below your ear. You whined as he pulled away and he laughed slightly, moving his hands to your waist and turning you round to face him.
The base of your spine was pressed against the marble counter top and Matt stared down into you, his hands absentmindedly rubbing circles against the towel that covered you. He effortlessly lifted you up and placed you on the sink, his hands finding your jaw once you landed the short jump. 
“I mean it, y’know, I think you might be the prettiest girl in the entire universe” his thumbs pressing into your cheeks as his slender fingers wrapped around the nape of your neck. 
His eyes were baring into yours, flitting between the left and right as an uncontrollable smile engulfed your face as you batted your lashes at him, returning his stare with doe eyes that almost made his knees buckle. 
“That’s a pretty damning statement, Matthew, I’m not sure I can live up to that title” You quipped, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him against you, aching for friction as you throbbed at his words. 
“There’s no question about it, pretty girl, no one even comes close” he said, pushing his jogger clad, growing bulge against your desperate core and pulling your impossibly close to him. 
“Let me show you how beautiful you are” he said, just before pulling you into a wet and tender kiss.
You moaned against his lips as Matt ground his hips into yours, his fingers digging into the nape of your neck. He moved his kisses down your jaw, his tongue flat against the bone as he worked his way down your neck and along the top of the white towel that separated his mouth from his favourite part of you. A soft hand came up to the fold in the fabric and tugged at it, causing it to drop from your body and fall onto the cold marble beneath you. The sudden exposure made all the tiny hairs on your body stand on edge as Matt ogled your body, taking you in like it was the first time he was seeing you bare like that, not the hundredth.
"you're so fuckin' sexy" he uttered, shaking his head in disbelief at the sight of your still slightly wet skin glistening for him.
You rested back on the palms of your hands and spread your legs wider for him, giving him a full view of your pretty pussy that was already slick to the touch. A hungry grunt left his throat at the sight of you baring yourself to him, and without hesitation, Matt dropped to his knees and hooked your legs over his shoulders, pressing bruises into the soft, squishy skin.
You squealed slightly as he tugged at your thighs, bringing your throbbing core only centimetres away from his face. He licked his lips like an animal spotting its prey and leaned forward, pressing a soft and sloppy kiss onto your clit. your back arched into the pressure of his tongue against you as he started lapping at your soaked core, moaning at the taste of you on his lips. Your fingers raked through his hair and tugged at the root, pushing him further into you as your hips involuntarily bucked into his face, grinding against his mouth as he worked his tongue over your weeping pussy.
His hand snaked its way down your leg, his blunt fingernails scratching down your skin as he brought his digits to to just below his chin, rubbing small circles at your entrance with the tip of his long finger, teasing your walls as they clenched around nothing, desperate for him to give you what he knows you want.
"mhph, Matt, please" you whined with furrowed brows, hips slowly grinding against his face.
Matt looked up at you with smiling, prideful eyes, dipping his middle finger into your soaked hole just enough to elicit a broken moan from your throat. As your walls loosened their grip around his finger, he slipped his ring finger inside, pushing them both in to the knuckle as he sucked on your clit, eyes still baring up into you as your head hung loose on your neck.
He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, but his pace on your clit was fierce, as if he was attempting to suck the air from your lungs out from of your pussy.
Your high was fast approaching, and your whole body began to tense above him, your legs unintentionally closing shut around his head. Matt didn't care, he wanted you to close him in, keep him there for the rest of time so he could make you cum all over his face over and over again until you felt as if you could pass out from exhaustion.
His fingers began to curl up into that blissful sweet spot, your stomach tensed in response and he knew you were close to coming undone. He slurped and lapped at your folds, his tongue dipping between them to catch the very centre of your clit, toying with the nub as he relentlessly filled your walls with his long fingers.
"Oh, fuck, Matt" the pressure of his tongue against you was euphoric, and a wave of tingles covered every inch of your body.
Your walls were a vice around his fingers and, with a tantalising suck on your sensitive nub, you released warm cum all over his hand. You shook above him, your vision going blurry as he continued to devour you, bringing you to a white hot level of ecstasy that left you a blubbering, whimpering mess on the bathroom counter.
When your legs stopped tensing and hung lazily over his shoulders, Matt pulled his fingers from you, licking them clean just before placing a soft peck on your puffy clit. The feeling made you jolt and he chuckled, his warm breath acting as a soothing wind to your sensitive pussy.
Matt got to his feet, his hands instantly gripping at your thighs to wrap you around him once again. He kissed you like he was a man eating his last meal, the taste of yourself still heavy on his tongue as it pressed and pushed against yours.
"taste that, pretty girl? you're beautiful even down to the sweetness of your perfect pussy" He pulled away from you, to say just before biting down on your parted bottom lip
The small, jealous comments that went over your head;
You, the boys and a few of your mutual friends were in a bar somewhere in downtown LA. Your hands were pressed against the wood of the bar as you waited to be served, the crowds of people surrounding you making you somewhat invisible to the bartender who, famously served all the influencers first and annoyingly ignored anyone who didn’t have a brand deal or over a million followers. 
“Hey gorgeous” an unfamiliar voice disturbed your failed attempt to order a round for your table. 
You looked to the side, and were met with the glaring stare and bitten lip of yet another guy who wanted to buy you a drink and disappoint you sexually. 
“Hi” you said, turning your attention away from him just as fast as he caught it. 
“Can I just say, you’re the hottest chick in this whole bar” he rested a sweaty hand on your shoulder. 
You shrugged off his touch and looked back to him, “thanks” you said quickly, instantly skeeved out by the feeling of his hand on your skin. 
“Let me buy you a drink” he said in what seemed like his attempt at a seductive tone, bringing his hand back up to you and pushing your hair off your shoulder, letting it fall down your back. 
“I’m good, dude, I’m just trying to get a round for me and my friends” you shifted away from him. 
He edged closer to you, running his fingers down your arm and grasping at your hand, 
“I can get the round, I’ve got money like that, baby” 
The name made you feel physically sick, and before you could open your mouth to tell him to kindly fuck off, the comforting sound of Matts voice rang through your ears. 
“You good, y/n/n?” He said, coming up next to you and wrapping a tight hand around your waist, pulling you into him, his eyes never leaving the meathead trying to touch his girl.
“Who the fuck are you?” The guy said, instantly squaring up to Matt. 
“S’not important, dude, jus’ leave her alone, yeah?” He said, shifting slightly towards the guy, his hand never leaving your waist. 
“What are you, her boyfriend or something?” He laughed, pressing firm fingers into Matts shoulder. 
Matt chucked at the attempt to rile him up, pulling his arm from your waist and planting himself directly in front of the dickhead that just pushed his shoulder. 
Your hand pressed against his chest, bringing him back down to reality as he looked down into your soft, sparkle covered eyes. 
“Don’t” you said, applying a warm pressure to his sternum. 
His jaw clenched as his heart rate slowed, the feeling of your hand against his chest a soothing balm to the burning rage that had ignited in him. 
“Fuck off, dude, m’not interested in whatever you think you’re gonna get out of this” you said, pushing Matt behind you and giving the creep the dirtiest look you could muster up. 
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “whatever, bitch, you’re ugly as fuck anyway” he said as he sulked away. 
“Oh, I’m gonna break his fuckin’ jaw” Matt said, attempting to slip out from behind you and follow the guy through the bar. 
“Matt” you said, grabbing his hand, “leave it” you said, pulling him back to you, catching his eye-line, “I’m fine, okay? He’s irrelevant”. 
He stood a few feet away from you with a clenched jaw, his hand still in yours as you glared at him. He rolled his eyes and returned to your side. 
“Kids just asking to get his shit rocked” he huffed, resting a protective hand on the base of your spine. 
“I'm sure someone will knock him out at some point” you said, a smirk forming on your face as you returned your attention to the bar tender. 
“I could have blinded him just for talking to you” he muttered, watching as the same guy sauntered over to other helpless victim. 
“Fuckin’ idiot thinks he has a chance in hell, tryna hold your hand and shit” he scoffed, “dickhead” Matt spat, finally tearing his eyes off the guy. 
You peered up at Matt and he met your gaze, a soft smile forming on his lips at the sight of you. You chuckled and shook your head, and just as you were about to tell him how sexy he is when he’s angry, you were interrupted by the bartender. 
“What can I get for you?”
The lingering touches when you were with your friends;
You were all hanging out at the boys’ house, watching films and talking about nothing, and everything. You were perched on the sofa, both of your legs tucked under yourself as you lazily scrolled on your phone. Matt was next to you, his legs in a wide man-spread as his back rested against the plush sofa cushions. His arm was rested against the back of the couch behind you, a comfortable warmth engulfing you just enough to not rouse any suspicion. 
His fingers absentmindedly traced he curve of your bare shoulder as he joked with Nate and Chris, all three of them laughing about something you weren’t listening to. 
“Y/n/n” Nick said from the kitchen, bringing your attention away from your phone, “can you come help me with this, I’m so fucking confused” he said, holding a cookie ingredient box in his hands, reading the back with furrowed brows. 
You looked over Matts shoulder towards the kitchen and let out a short chuckle, “Yeah, sure”. You shifted, and placed your feet on the floor, using Matts leg to help you up from your comfortable position on the sofa. 
The pressure of your hand against his leg went straight to his crotch, and as if on instinct, his hand met yours on his thigh for a moment as you pushed yourself up. You turned to look down at him over your shoulder as your hand slipped from under his, he looked at you like you were the only person in the room and you returned the favour, padding away from him and facing your attention towards Nick, who was standing, baffled in the kitchen over the instructions that ‘made no fucking sense’. 
His desperation for you after being apart for any longer than a couple days;
“Fuck, angel, I missed your pussy so fuckin’ much” Matt grunted into your neck as he pounded into you, slow and hard, sucking on the curve of your jaw and occasionally biting down on your soft skin. 
Your moaned at his words, legs wrapped tight around him with your feet locked at his waist, your hands clawed at his back as he stretched you out, the sensation of him relentlessly hammering into you completely overwhelming your senses. The weight of his body against yours was blissful, his warm skin pressed against yours as you kissed and sucked at his shoulder, desperate to feel every part of him against every part of you. His hands were pressing bruises into every inch of your skin, the feeling of you clenching around him sending him into ecstasy as he thrust in and out of your sopping pussy. 
“Y’so fuckin’ perfect, literally perfect, this pussy was made f’me, made jus’ f’me” he was rambling, desperate to let you know how much he had missed you. 
“Mphm, Matt, don’t stop, please, don’t stop” you whined as he hit that gummy spot deep inside you, his dick nestling perfectly inside your slick walls. 
“Keep saying my name like that, please baby, say it again f'me” He said, craning his neck up to look down at you, his eyes fluttery at the heavenly feeling of being completely surrounded by you. 
“Matt” you moaned, throwing your head back as he thrust deeper inside of you, the soft pressure of the top of his pelvis periodically pressing against your puffy clit. 
Matt groaned, dipping his head down to capture your neck in a tingling bite, just before soothing the sting with a warm and flat tongue. 
“Ugh, Matt” you whimpered, squeezing your legs tighter round him, your hands finding his sweaty curls. 
Matt near enough growled into your skin, picking up his pace as he hungrily fucked you with unwavering force into his bed. The sting of your fingers pulling his hair, coupled with the pulsating heat of your throbbing pussy sent him over the edge. With a loud grunt and stuttering hips, he came harder than he had in weeks, his vision going blurry as he nestled himself further into the crook of your neck, biting down on the fleshy meat of your shoulder. He slowed his pace completely, slowly fucking his cum into you until he felt paralysed by your warmth. 
“Jesus Christ” he uttered into your hair. 
You peppered kisses along his broad shoulder and up his neck, biting at his earlobe, earning an involuntary buck of his hips into your cum soaked hole. He begrudgingly pulled out of you, his soft dick hanging down between his legs as he fell down on top of you, his crushing body weight making you sink into the mattress. Your hands played with his hair as he caught his breath, head rested on your bare chest and hands rubbing at your boiling skin. 
“Take it you missed me then?” You muttered, enamoured with his tired and fucked out frame lazily pressed against you. 
He simply nodded against your skin, bringing a large hand up to palm the curve of your breast. “S’much” he said, just before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it with vigour. 
You giggled at the sensation, shifting under him slightly as he pressed his already hardening dick against your thigh.
“Matt” You laughed, squirming under his touch. 
In one swift movement, he flipped you both over so that you were ontop of him, your wet pussy pressed against the base of his sticky cock. 
“Need more, princess, now, please” Matt said, a spread hand coming up your spine and he brought you down to him. His hand gripped the back of your neck as he kissed you like he was starved of your touch.
“m’never gonna get enough a’you” He moaned into the kiss, the feeling of your folds brushing up and down his stiff cock sending him into heavenly overstimulation. 
The final beat of the song brought you back to reality,
and before you realised it, you were back at your apartment, pulling into your parking lot and making your way up to your empty home. 
Your apartment was covered with Matt; a spare pair of his dirty, beat up airforces sat next to your messy array shoes by the front door, dried out flowers in jars were scattered around your whole apartment, all ones he had gotten you for birthdays or special achievements, or just because he saw them and thought of you. His jackets were hung up on your hooks, and his shirts were thrown lazily into your laundry baskets. Cards and notes were littered on your fridge and window sills, all just little messages he’d leave you throughout your entire friendship, even before you started sleeping together. 
You kicked off your shoes and padded over to the fridge to get some water, old photos and memories stared back at you. Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the door, but your arm didn’t budge, your attention was fixated on the array of photos stuck to the fridge. 
You had a photo of you and the boys when you were younger, your mum had found it when she was clearing out some old stuff and you simply had to steal it from her albums. There was another photo that Nick had taken at some party you don’t really remember and then there were two photos of you and Matt. One of them was a photo booth picture from some influencer thing he dragged you to, and the other was from your birthday last year. Just below the pictures, Matt had stuck a note under the floral magnet, you had no idea when he did it and honestly didn’t even notice it until that very moment. The note read, ‘hi, you’re pretty, have a nice day’ in what looked like his best attempt to have neat hand writing. 
You glanced over the photo from your birthday, it was just after you guys had started seeing each other, and the boys had decided celebrating your birthday away from LA was non negotiable, so you all went home to Boston and had a proper family birthday. It was perfect, and for that short week, everything in your life felt like it was finally falling into place. Tears began to prick at your puffy eyes once more as you stared at the picture, his strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, a cheesy grin spread across your face as he made one of his usual silly faces for the lens of Nicks camera. 
Your heart sunk in your chest, and for the first time since you met Matt all those years ago, you felt completely alone. You had done the one thing you were the most afraid of being done to you; you had walked out on him, without even stopping to tell him why. You had acted like everything you hated, and the shame you felt, coupled with a deep sadness and a looming feeling of heavy regret were all only exacerbated by the fact that, the only person you wanted to speak to about how you were feeling, was Matt. 
Back at his house, Matt was in his living room, sat across from his brothers, his elbows rested on his wide knees as his head hung on his neck, resting in his palms.
“You and y/n have been… fucking?” Chris said, fully spread across the sofa as he stared at Matt in bewilderment. 
“Don’t say it like that, Chris” Nick hit Chris on the chest, turning back to Matt and perching his head on his hand, looking at him with soft features that reassured Matt that he was listening, “carry on, Matt” he said. 
“It um— it started about six months ago, after Quens’ birthday party, d’you remember?” He said, brushing his hair out his face with a huff. 
“Oh, yeah, I remember that, you guys ended up kissing during that weird card game, right?” Nick said, recounting his hazy memories from the party. 
Matt nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, “We ended up sleeping together that night, I brought her back here and she snuck out in the morning before you guys woke up”
“You sneaky motherfucker, if this whole situation wasn’t depressing as fuck I’d be so proud of you dude.” Chris leant forward and grabbed Matts shoulder, shaking him slightly and beaming at him, trying to coax a smile out of him. 
A lazy smile creeped its way onto Matts face as Chris patted his back, that alone was enough to let him know that behind his sad eyes, Matt was still in there somewhere. 
“Wait, so, what happened? Why did she suddenly decide that she doesn’t want to see you anymore?” Nick pushed, just as confused as his younger brother. 
“I’ve got no fuckin’ idea, one minute we were fine, just chilling and watching gravity falls, and the next, she won’t even look at me” Matt sighed, his voice cracking as he spoke. He threw himself back onto the sofa and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands, groaning and trying not to cry. 
Chris and Nick shared a worried look, furrowed brows and concerned eyes pouring into each other as they both returned their attention to Matt, who was still shifting in his skin, the most worked up they’ve seen him in, well, in six months actually.
“Hey, kid, it’s gonna be okay, okay?” Chris placed a comforting hand on Matts knee, squeezing it slightly, “we’ve known her for like literally forever, whatever it is, I’m sure she’ll figure it out and come back” 
“Yeah” Nick said, moving to sit on the other side of Matt, “maybe she’s just having a moment or something? You know how she gets sometimes” he reassured Matt with a gentle hand on his shoulder. 
“I’m just—she jus’—I just don’t understand” Matt shook his head, hands raking down his face as frustrated tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. 
“Hey” Chris said gently, his voice wavering at the sight of Matt nearly crying, “Its okay, bro, you’ll figure it out, and besides even if you never get to fuck her again, I’m sure you’ll always be best friends” 
“Chris” Nick said quietly through gritted teeth, his hand gently rubbing Matts shoulder as he shot Chris a glaring look. 
“What?” Chris replied, innocently, not understanding what he said wrong. 
Matts head rolled against the back of the sofa, he let out a small chuckle and shook his head, a groan slipping from his lips, “I don’t care if I never get to sleep with her again dude, I jus’—“ he sighed, “I think I’m in love with her” he closed his eyes and squeezed his back teeth together, clenching his jaw as a throttling wave of sadness came over him, “and now I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to tell her” 
In the month between you walking out and you both crashing back into each other,
you didn’t see Matt or the boys once. You completely isolated yourself, refusing to even think about what had happened. The night you came home, after hours of crying in the shower and wanting the world to swallow you hole, you decided that simply forgetting it ever happened was the best plan of action. If it never happened, then it didn’t need to matter. But it did happen, and it did matter and you became a shell of yourself, existing on auto pilot everyday. 
All you did was work and sleep, your social life becoming quickly non existent without the boys to coax you into actually leaving the house. You stopped replying to anyones messages in the first week, turning off all notifications and letting the little red bubble get longer and longer as the messages piled up in your phone. Everyday you managed to get yourself out of bed was a miracle, and if you showered and brushed your hair, it should have counted as an eighth wonder of the world. Your life had become an agonising picture coloured by shades of grey, all of the colour being stripped from your world when you slammed the door in your best friends face. 
You couldn’t understand why you couldn’t just call him, tell him that you were sorry, that you freaked out and acted like a fucking idiot, and that all you’ve ever wanted is for him to be around forever, in whatever shape that may take. You loved him, you had loved him since you were a child, but having sex with him, and being his in those fleeting moments of passion made you fall in love with him, and the thought of that made you feel like you were driving down the highway on the wrong side, cars flying towards you at a hundred miles per hour as someone blindfolded you and told you to keep driving. But not because of him, he was perfect. He was one of the only people in the world who you really trusted, who you knew you could always rely on no matter what and no questions asked. It was because of you, something inside of you felt broken, and you had no idea how to fix it. 
Matt wasn’t doing any better;
Unless he had to film or take a meeting, he barely left his room. He pushed away any attempt from his brothers to talk about you or what had happened since the night he told them about the two of you, not wanting to be reminded of the agonising feeling that had wedged itself between his ribs since the night you left.
His temper was shorter than ever, constantly snapping at one of the boys for tiny things and losing his shit every time a minor inconvenience happened. His parents got word of the fact that you two had stopped talking and tried to be there for him, your mum too, but he pushed everyone away. No one had the ability to crawl inside his brain and plant flowers in his weeds like you did, and he knew that, so he didn’t see the point in letting anyone even try.
After a certain point he stopped talking to everyone, only interacting with Chris or Nick when he really needed to and ignoring all the calls from Nate, his parents or Justin. He just wanted to be left alone, because at least then his reality would reflect how he felt. You had left a gaping hole in his life and slowly but surely, he was falling deeper and deeper into the dark abyss of that hole, letting the heavy sadness consume him with reluctant acceptance. 
Despite his temper and moping about, his brothers never stopped trying; 
A soft tap rattled his door, and a few seconds after, it creaked open, letting in a slither of light into his dark bedroom. 
“Matt? We’re gonna go get wing stop, d’you wanna come?” Chris said softly, peering his head through the crack in the door. 
Matt didn’t respond, he was tucked up to his neck in his duvet in his dark room, the only light in the room being that of his low brightness computer screen playing an array of depressing songs on loop and the light that Chris had welcomed in when he opened the door. 
“Matt, dude, you haven’t left your room in days, you gotta eat something” Chris sighed, his refusal to accept this new version of Matt apparent. 
Matt simply turned away from the door, turning his back to Chris in a silent ‘fuckin’ leave me alone’. Chris huffed, shaking his head and clicking the door shut. 
Nothing was working, and they had no idea if he was ever going to be okay again. Normally, he would mope about for a couple days and then be back to his usual silly, kind self. But this was different, he seemed completely void of anything that made Matt, Matt. 
Nick was fed up of his behaviour, and despite Chris’ constant battle with him over ‘just giving it time’, Nick knew, as his older brother and best friend, that it had all gone too far. So he took matters into his own hands.
That night, Nick got an uber to your apartment,
knowing it was your day off work and that you were almost definitely in the same position as Matt; not leaving your house or talking to anyone.  
The uber pulled up next to your apartment block and he got out the car, striding up the stairs to the entrance and relentlessly pounded against your front door. The sound made you jump in your skin, pulling your attention away from the last episode of season two of gravity falls, a show that hadn’t left your tv in weeks. When you didn’t answer the door to the first round of banging, it started again and you reluctantly pushed yourself off your sofa and walked over to the door as it vibrated on its hinges. 
“Okay, okay, m’coming, Jesus Chris” you groaned.  
When you opened the door, you were met with a face you hadn’t seen in weeks. 
“Nick?” Your face dropped in confusion.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n/n” he started sounding off immediately, pushing himself into your apartment. 
“wha—“ you started to speak, but were immediately cut off. 
“In what universe is it okay to just go completely ghost on your best fucking friend? What the fuck were you thinking? Matt has been in a shit state since you ran out that night and I’m fuckin’ sick of it! He’s angry at everyone, he’s nearly gotten in actual fights with me and Chris about a thousand times and he’s even stopped talking to our parents. Our parents y/n.” Nicks face was nearly bright red with anger as he paced around your apartment. 
“Nick, I—“ you folded your arms over your chest, his words hitting you like bullets of reality. 
“No. I’m not finished.” He held his hand up to stop you speaking, “I don’t know what the fuck happened between the two of you, but you need to sort it out, because I can’t sit here and watch this all unfold anymore. I think what you fail to remember, is that despite the fact that you were fucking him, he was also supposed to be your best friend. We all were. When you walked out on him, you also walked out on me and Chris. You left us all high and dry without a single explanation and zero entrance back into your life to try and figure out what the fuck happened.” Nick finished his rant and took a deep inhale, his first real breath since he stepped foot in your apartment. 
The apartment was silent for a moment, you not knowing whether or not he was finished. “Can I speak now?”
“G’head” Nick replied, raising a hand, gesturing you to say your part. 
“I’m sorry that I walked out.” You said, it being the only thing you could think to say in that moment, “I didn’t know he was going through all of that” you said, averting your gaze to the floor. 
Nick chuckled in disbelief, “cut the shit, y/n/n” he said, “you know what he’s like, probably better than anyone. You know because you’re exactly the same, I mean, look at you, you look like shit” he said, not holding back, then again, when did he ever. 
You looked back up at him and couldn’t help but chuckle as his insult, “What are you talking about? M’fine” you shrugged. 
“Yeah sure you are, kid” Nick rolled his eyes, taking a few steps forward and lingering just in front of you. 
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, and honestly I don’t really care. But I do care about him, and I care about you, and I know that this is killing you as much as its killing him. so just stop being a fucking idiot and go tell him that you love him, because I’m tired of his stinking fuckin’ attitude and I miss you, I miss my best friend, we all do, Matt more than anyone” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his warm skin pulling a single brick from the dam that had all your crippling emotions stuffed behind it. 
Tears brimmed at your eyes and Nick sighed, bringing you into an all encompassing hug, holding your head against his chest as you sobbed into him. He held you like that for a while, letting you cry in his arms as he cooed and rubbed the back of your head in the gentle embrace you were wrapped in. When you finally stopped shaking, you pulled away from him, wiping your tears and looked up at him through wet lashes. 
“What if he hates me?” You sniffled, your voice still shaky. 
Nick shook his head with a breathy laugh out his nose, “I don’t think he could hate you even if he wanted to, you’re everything to him” 
You and Nick shared another hug before he said he had to go and meet everyone in the city, asking you if you wanted to come and not pressing when you shook your head no, telling him you just needed to be alone. He left and you were alone again, your mind now racing with everything he had said, his words giving you the reality check you needed.
Back at the boys' house,
Matt was padding around the kitchen, he had left his room about ten minutes after he heard the front door click shut and he knew he was alone. As he shuffled around in the cupboards looking for a bowl for his hundredth meal of instant noodles, the front door slammed shut, and a burning annoyance filled his entire body. Chris came bounding up the stairs, seemingly in a hurry, but stopped in his tracks at the sight of Matt, actually out of his bedroom. 
“Oh, you’re up, I jus’ came back ‘cause I forgot my wallet” he said, grabbing his wallet off the table. 
Matt didn’t respond, he didn’t even acknowledge Chris’ presence. 
Chris went to leave, rolling his eyes and not even attempting to bother trying anymore but, in true Chris fashion, he was determined to find his brother inside this strange ghost that had infiltrated his home. 
“Look, dude, I know you’re hurting, trust me I get it but, you can’t keep letting this bring you down forever. There has to be a point were you realise that this isn’t healthy” He sighed, walking back to stand next to the table. “I know you love her, and I know that this whole situation is killing you, but maybe if you jus —“ he sighed, “maybe if you jus fuckin’ speak to her then you can sort all of this out, she can come back and everything can be normal again, ‘cause, its hard as fuck seeing you like this man and, even though I don’t love her like you do, I miss her too, she’s been around forever and it feels like we're a table missing a fuckin’ leg or some shit so, jus’ speak to her. what’s the harm in just trying, y’know?” 
Matt, with his back still to Chris, shifted where he stood slightly, opening his mouth to reply but swallowed his words. 
Chris sighed and shook his head, turning on the balls of his feet and running down the stairs. The slam of the front door echoed through the house, and Matt was soon left with the deafening silence left by Chris’ absence.
His brothers words ran laps around his mind, he knew he was right, this couldn’t go on forever, and he should just speak to you, but how was he even supposed to begin to try? Was he supposed to just show up at your apartment, tell you how he was dying inside, how this past month had been the hardest of his entire life and that he had missed you every single second of every day that passed painstakingly slowly? Was he supposed to just show up at your home, grab you by the face and tell you that he loved you and that he never wanted to be without you ever again? As the rapid thoughts bounced like pinballs against the walls of his skull, he realised that, that was exactly what he was going to do. 
He slammed the cupboard door shut and strode over to the table, picking his keys up and near enough sprinting down the stairs, not even stopping to put shoes on as he pulled the front door open and stepped out in front of his house. 
As he stepped out into his front yard, his heart fell down into his stomach at the sight of your shadowy frame, standing just a few feet from his front door, arms crossed over your pyjama top clad chest. He was paralysed, he didn’t know if he was dreaming or, if somewhere between the kitchen and the door he fell over and cracked his head open.
“Y/n” he choked out, it being the only thing he could muster up in that moment. 
“Hi” you said in a small voice, a shy smile finding your lips at the sound of him saying your name. 
Matt couldn’t move, feeling as though the ground had grown hands that had wrapped themselves around his ankles. You made the first move, taking a step into the light, the orange street lamp illuminating your features. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you, your beautiful face in his sights again after what felt like an eternity.
You walked closer to him, warmth radiated off him as he stared down at you with a slightly parted mouth. Neither of you spoke, you had no idea what to say, you just stared into each other for that long moment, the world shifting on its axis around you as suddenly, face to face like this, you felt like the only two people in the entire universe. Your eyes flitted between his, your lips periodically getting caught between your teeth as you tried to think of something, anything to say.
Matts eyes explored your face, as if he was memorising every inch of it incase it was the last time he was seeing you, incase this wasn’t real and he was asleep in his dark room. His gaze flitted to your plump lips and it sent a twinge up your spine, and without thinking, you latched your hands round the back of his head and pulled him down into you in a feverish, desperate kiss. He returned the kiss almost immediately, his hands slipping round your waist and pulling you into him in a frenzied attempt to feel you close to him again. 
You burst into the house back first, Matts hands clawing at your waist and his lips moving against yours in a clash of teeth and tongues, your arms draped over his shoulders as your hands desperately clung to his messy brown hair.
He kicked the door shut with his foot, one hand coming to your jaw to pull you into him deeper. You both clumsily walked towards his bedroom, Matt leading you backwards with closed eyes, just about missing the couch. Your hands left his hair and found the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head with vigour, breaking the kiss for a brief moment before crashing back into each other. Heavy breathing and small moans were the only sound in his house as he attempted to unbutton your shirt, not yet breaking the kiss and fumbling at the tiny circles that kept your body from him. He groaned into the kiss in frustration, biting your lip slightly before tearing your shirt open in one fowl rip. You chuckled into the kiss, Matt followed suit and your back hit the hard wood of his bedroom door, your arm frantically finding the door handle behind you.
When you finally gained entrance, still locked in an all consuming make out session with Matt, you slipped your hands between your bodies and began to untie the knot in his joggers, his whole body twitching at the sensation. Matt broke the kiss, panting, his forehead leaning on yours. 
“I thought you said we weren’t gonna do this anymore” He said through frantic breaths, his lips still brushing yours. 
“I know what I said” you muttered, finally undoing the bow that acted as the gatekeeper between your hand and his aching length, the swift insertion of your cold hand into his warm boxers acting as a mic drop to your statement as you pulled him into you once more. 
“So” Matt pulled away for a brief moment, missing the heat from your plump lips and kissing you before he spoke again, “what’re we doin” he panted. 
“Just shut up and kiss me, Matt” you shook your head, wrapping your hand round the back of his head, nearly giving him whiplash at the speed you pull his lips back to yours. 
He kissed you back hungrily, groaning into your mouth as he pushed you backwards onto his bed. You hit the bed with a small whimper as his mouth detached from yours, his tongue flattening against your neck, then your chest, then your stomach and then back up the way he came.
Your hands latched onto his curls as your back arched at the sensation of his mouth against you for the first time in what felt like forever. He moaned against your skin, grinding his hard cock into your desperate core, your clothes creating a frustrating amount of friction between the two of you.
He bucked his hips into yours, your legs tightening around his waist with every thrust. You were desperate, and he was starved of you. His large came to your open shirt and pushed it down over your shoulder, his perfect teeth clamping down on your soft skin. His mouth found the curve of your tit, pulling the lacy fabric of your bralette down to expose your hardened nipple to him. With one hand on your waist, and his mouth latched around your nipple, Matt groaned into your skin. Your head rolled back at the sensation of his warm tongue on you, your whole body felt like it was on fire as his touch became feverish.
"Matt, please, please, I need it, I need you" you whined, you weren't sure what you were begging for but the pleads spilled from your mouth almost on instinct.
Matt removed his mouth from you and tugged at your shirt, you shifted slightly to assist him as he threw it across the room. He palmed the flesh of your half exposed tits, growing frustrated at the sight of the baby blue lace of your bralette that kept him from seeing you completely. With one swift rip, he tore the flimsy fabric open at the seams, leaving it in scraps on his mattress. The vision of your heaving chest incited something animalistic in him and he instantly dove down, latching his mouth around you once more.
The moan that left your throat was guttural, your back arching off the bed as his hand slipped down between the two of you, skipping the teasing and heading straight for your throbbing clit. The tip of his middle finger found your nub instantly and without hesitation, he set an agonising pace, rubbing blissful circles over it as his tongue continued to work your nipple. He moved his hand down, swiping his ring and middle through your sopping wet folds. Your toes curled at the feeling and with that, Matt inserted his long fingers into your tight hole.
The feeling of you clenching around his fingers made his stomach tense, a deep, hungry moan leaving his mouth and vibrating around your tit. Your thighs clenched around his wrist, he brought his knee to yours and pushed your legs open with brute force, pinning you open for him as he made his way down your skin with wet and sloppy kisses. As he moved, he pulled down your pyjama bottoms and panties, the cold air peppering goosebumps all over your skin as he slowly exposed you to him.
You were completely bare, spread out on his bed. He got to his feet, knees resting on the edge of the bed as he gawked down at you, his chest heaving in anticipation at the sight of you like this for him, something he thought he'd never see again.
"are you sure y'wanna do this?" he said, removing his hands from you completely.
"Matt, you're the only thing I've ever been sure about in my entire life" you panted, sitting up, placing your hand on his chest and leaning up into him.
His fingers pressed against your core once more, attaching his lips to yours as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck.
"I've missed you, so fuckin' much" Matt confessed into the kiss, pushing you further up the bed as he crawled between your open legs.
Your hands came to the waistband of his joggers and pushed them down with desperation, moaning into the messy kiss as he thrust his slender fingers in and out of you at a tormenting pace. You wrapped your hand around his cock and he bucked into your touch, chasing the feeling of you pumping him. He broke the kiss with a breathy whine, head dropping to the crook of your neck as he assisted you in lining his throbbing length up with your sopping hole. He pulled his fingers from you and rubbed small circles over your clit, you pressed his leaking tip against your hole.
Matt moaned your name, the feeling of your wet pussy so close to being around him making his vision go blurry.
His hand came to your face, pressing bruises into your cheek as he shifted you both to lay on your sides, facing each other. He moved his hand down, lifting your leg and hooked it over his waist, pulling you into him with such force that a short squeal left your lips. You continued pumping him, rubbing his tip through your folds, when you brushed him back over your hole, Matt bucked his hips, the sting of him stretching you out for a brief second inciting throaty moans from the both of you.
Once he had a taste, he was lost in it, and Matt pushed himself inside of you again, this time allowing himself to bottom out in your gummy, soaked walls. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, your forehead pressing against his as he breathed desperate moans into your open mouth.
"Jesus christ you feel so fuckin' good" Matt whined, thrusting into you with one hand tucked between your face and his pillow, and the other on your thigh, the pressure of his touch sure to leave bruises behind.
He was bottoming out completely as your pussy milked him, clenching around his hard cock, and you felt as if you could cum from the sensation of his touches alone. Your whole body was tingling, every inch of your skin on fire with pure bliss as he fucked up into you at a steady pace.
"Matt, go faster, please" You whimpered, clawing at the back of his neck, tugging at the messy curls that gathered there.
He didn't need to be told twice, with a low growl, Matt set a rapid pace, fucking into you like it was the last thing he would ever do. Your moans were pornographic, the sting of his skin slapping against yours, coupled with the blissful stretch of your pussy around his cock sending you into a deep state of euphoria.
Matt grunted repeatedly, moaning your name over and over again as he fucked into you desperately. His moans made your ears ring, you brought a hand down in between you both and collected some of the juices that leaked from your pussy onto his cock, moving your fingers up to rub rapid circles across your puffy clit.
Matt grunted at the sight, his grip on your skin turning to blunt nailed scratches as he hardened his thrusts, pounding into you relentlessly as you worked your clit.
"keep doing that, angel, keep doing that for me, you feel so fucking good clenching around me like this, jesus christ, you're so fucking sexy when you touch yourself for me" he was rambling, completely consumed by the sight of you, the feeling of you milking his cock bringing him closer and closer to his release.
"fuck, Matt, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum" you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he fucked into you at a rapid pace. the sensation of his merciless grip on your skin coupled with the stimulation of your throbbing clit making you see stars.
"cum for me, angel, cum f'me, I'm right there with you, m'right there with you" his words were almost incoherent.
The sound of him telling you to cum was enough to send you tumbling down into ecstasy, and he was right behind you. The vice grip your clenching pussy had around his cock was incredible, and wet sounds of your cum releasing all over his length filled the air as his pace became sloppy, chasing his high as he stuttered inside of you.
"Fuck, Matt" you cried out, and the sound of you crying out his name sent him over the edge.
He released threads of ropy cum into your gaping hole, fucking his seed into you as his movements began to slow.
Your breathless pants filled the room as you both came down from your highs, foreheads pressed against each others, sharing oxygen as your leg remained wrapped around his waist. His hand caressed the side of your face, pushing your hair out the way to look at your pretty, fucked out face. 
When you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you and the feeling of his eyes baring into yours made your skin hot. 
“Hi” you smiled. 
“Hey” He cheesed back, rubbing small circles on your warm cheeks. 
After a brief moment of loving stares, reality set in, and you remembered the agonising events that led you to being here, tangled up with him like this. The dark circles around Matts eyes that mimicked your own broke your heart, and in that moment, you couldn't bare the thought of never being away from him ever again.
“I um—I’m really sorry, Matt.” Your smile dropped into a sincere, pleading expression. 
“You don’t have to apologise to me, y/n” Matt shook his head against the pillow. 
“No, I —“ you sat up, resting on your elbow to look down at him. His hand on your cheek didn’t falter and you pressed your head into his touch with closed eyes, “I do. I’m so fucking sorry, Matt. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I—I just freaked out because you called me baby and I —“ your rambling was cut off by his voice.
“Wait” he said, shifting to rest against his headboard, letting his hand drift down the soft skin of your arm, “all of this, was because I called you baby?” He asked through a short, baffled laugh. 
You nodded, some what embarrassed, sitting up completely in front of him, taking his large hand in yours and toying with the rings on his fingers. 
“But, I called you baby all the time” Matt chuckled, grasping your hand in his and gaining your attention back to his soft eyes. 
“I know, it just— it freaked me out because I think I realised in that moment that I was in love with you and, I just didn’t know how to handle that” you looked away from him again, the weight of your confession making your voice crack. 
Matts ears began to ring, “You’re in love with me?” He questioned, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. 
You locked eyes with him again, he looked so soft, his kind eyes almost sparkling with happiness at your words, “yeah, I'm in love you, Matt” you nodded, “I am, and I — I tried to ignore it, I tried to push it down and forget about it but, I couldn’t, I don’t know how to forget you” 
Matt didn’t say anything, he felt as though all the words in the English language were ripped from his brain as you told him you loved him for the second time. He simply starred at you in awe, your hand firm in his grip. 
“Can you say something, please” you said, your eyes flitting away from his for a second before returning to their prior position. 
“Y/n/n, I— I’ve been in love with you since we were ten years old” the words spilled from his mouth, a wave of utter relief washing over him at the feeling of finally admitting a fact he’s known for half his life. 
“You have?” Your expression was pleading as your eyes widened at his confession. 
“I’ve loved you more and more everyday I’ve known you, I just didn’t realise it until that night when— when we kissed” He said, sitting up and lingering inches away from your face. He brought his hand back up to your face, “You don’t know how to forget me?” He chuckled, “I couldn’t ever forget you, even if I tried, even if I wanted to” his lips brushing over yours softly as you breathed into his parted mouth. 
You didn’t respond with words, instead, you pressed your lips against his with such force that it sent him back down to his satin pillow.
You were terrified, and completely enamoured by him. You loved him more than you'd ever thought possible and he loved you just the same. And despite the fact that the idea of being loved, truly loved, scared you beyond belief, you no longer felt like you were drowning. Because you knew that no matter what happened, Matt would always be there to dive into the rocky waters and pull you to the surface.
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pedroscurls · 2 months ago
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welcome to broadway (one-shot)
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summary: it's the anniversary of oklahoma! and with it being your first broadway show, hugh takes you under his wing to show you the ropes. along the way, you realize that you've developed feelings for him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 5.4k warnings: dry humping, suggestive smut (sorry - didn't go explicit in this one!), light dirty talk (this also isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!) a/n: to the anon and @sir-thisisadndserver who both requested a story about broadway, i hope you both enjoyed this!!! (ugh, i wish i could watch the music man in good quality bc he just looks so good in it. but also, hugh in oklahoma! has done things to me... my god, his voice, the curls, just everything.) i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.
THE TABLE READ
You can’t believe it. Lead role of Oklahoma for their anniversary showing. Twenty five years later and while mostly everyone came back except the role of Laurey, you were the only odd one out. You knew what this play entailed, knew exactly how it would end. You also knew that you’d be playing alongside Hugh Jackman, who was reprising his role as Curly. 
You’re excited, yet nervous. Hugh Jackman not only was an amazing movie and television actor, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t watch most (if not all) of his shows on Broadway. His sheer talent truly captivated, yet intimidated you. You don’t know how you will be able to act “normal” around him. He isn’t just talented, but he’s also incredibly attractive. Anyone with eyes would be able to see that. 
You’re the first one seated at the table and notice Hugh is set to sit next to you. You keep your eyes focused on the pages in front of you, trying to calm your nerves and get yourself ready to be in character. You can hear people come in, excitement and laughter filtering the room. You take a deep breath and stand up to introduce yourself. You’re taken aback by how welcoming everyone is and it puts you at ease, your nerves slowly beginning to die down. Everyone’s excitement is infectious, making you feel immensely thankful to be part of this cast. 
Your back is turned to the door, talking to one of the cast members that you don’t realize Hugh Jackman has finally arrived. He’s greeting everyone with a large grin and waves and you don’t notice. Not until you feel a soft touch in the middle of your back. Slowly, you turn around and look up, eyes slightly going wide as you stare up at him. 
He’s staring down at you with such a large smile that it literally makes you feel weak in the knees. Yeah, you don’t know how you’re going to get through this play without fawning over him, especially since your character – Laurey – tries to hide her feelings for Curly for the majority of the play. 
“Hello there,” he says softly, hand extending out for you to take. “I don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to meet yet. I’m Hugh.”
You bite your lower lip and extend your own hand, gently sliding it into his and shaking it slowly. “Hi,” you smile shyly and tell him your name. “It’s an honor to share the stage with you. I’ve been a huge fan.” 
Hugh chuckles, his hand soft and light with yours. He releases your hand and keeps his eyes solely focused on you. “I’m a huge fan as well,” he admits. “I’m glad you get to be my Laurey.” 
My Laurey. You feel your heart rate beat ten times faster, heat rising in your cheeks. “And you, my Curly.” 
He lets out a quiet chuckle, hands moving to his pockets. Hugh finds your energy and presence very calming and despite this being your first ever time on Broadway, he has to commend you for being professional. Though, he can see the excitement that flickers in your eyes. He knows that look, has even donned that same look every time he got on stage. “So, I hear this is your first time?” 
“On Broadway, yeah. Do I seem too nervous?” you laugh, biting your lower lip. “Because if I do, it’s because I am. I’m trying to keep it cool, but to be in a room with all of you? I just can’t believe it. I don’t want to mess up.” 
Hugh’s eyes softened. “Eh, we’re just a group of people who love to perform, including you. We’re all gonna make mistakes along the way, even on opening night, but as long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”
You’ve heard stories of Hugh – how he puts people at ease, looks out for everyone in the cast and crew, and right now, you’re experiencing it firsthand. You suddenly feel your nerves disappear under his gaze and for once since finding out that you’d be playing the lead role of Laurey, you feel immense excitement. You’ve never been one to be shy on stage, but knowing that you’d be the new person in this cast instilled anxiety in you. They’ve done this before. They’ve played these same roles. And ultimately, you didn’t want to disappoint any of them.
“Thank you,” you finally reply. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.” 
“Well, if you never need more reassurance, I’m your man.” he winks. 
The theater director calls everyone’s attention, making a short speech at how it’s great to be back and how amazing of a show you were all going to have. You look around the room, seeing the smiles on everyone’s faces before you finally look up at Hugh. You’re surprised because he’s already looking down at you, giving you a reassuring nod as you feel his hand brush against yours. 
The subtle action grounds you, settles the nerves that begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You feel a sudden calmness wash over you as you take a deep breath, pulling your gaze away from him when you hear your name being called. 
“And we have our Laurey,” your theater director says, everyone clapping and cheering for you. “Welcome,” he says with a grin. “We’re lucky to have you.” 
You smile in his direction, nodding at everyone else in the room. “Glad to be part of this amazing cast,” you reply, everyone continuing to clap before it begins to slow down. 
“And our Curly,” the theater director continues, nodding towards the man standing next to you. “We’re all so excited that you’re here to reprise your role. It’s gonna be a great show.”
Once the theater director finishes his speech, everyone in the room takes their respective seats. Hugh pulls out your chair for you and you smile up at him, sitting down as he pushes it in for you. 
“Thank you,” you tell him.
“Anytime,” he winks. 
Throughout the table read, you finally feel at ease, comfortable in your element as you change your accent to reflect your character’s. Hugh changes his own and how lucky of you to get a front seat of his skill and talent. He turns to you, saying his lines at the beginning of the play. “On'y she talked so mean to me a while back, Aunt Eller, I'm a good mind not to take her.”
He’s staring at you with a charming smile, leaning back against his seat with his eyes staring into yours. 
You then say your line, rolling your eyes with your arms crossed over your chest. “Ain't said I was goin'!” 
Hugh then says his line almost immediately, “Ain't ast you!”
There’s a silence that engulfs the entire room as you two stare at each other. He’s still staring at you with a big grin and you with a frown on your face and eyes narrowed. You’re surprised at how much chemistry you already have with him, how easy it is to slip into the role of Laurey and exchange lines with him without any issue. 
As the table read continues, you can’t help but take notice of Hugh’s presence next to you. The scene where you kiss approaches and you know that it isn’t going to happen here, today, but to know that you will eventually have to kiss him makes you nervous, but also very excited. 
By the time the table read ends, a few hours have passed and everyone claps. The theater director dismisses all of you, saying that rehearsals will begin next week. You begin to pack your things before you feel Hugh gently reach a hand out to rest over your forearm. 
“You did great,” he says. “And to think you were nervous?” 
“I was,” you laugh quietly. “But I guess you helped ease my nerves.”
“I did, huh?” he smiles proudly. “Well, I suppose I should say you’re welcome.” 
You shake your head, standing up from the table and seeing him follow suit. “I was wondering–”
“Do you think we should–” 
You both say simultaneously, both letting out a quiet laugh. “You first,” you tell him, gazing up at him. 
Hugh smiles, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Would you be okay with exchanging numbers? We can go over lines sometime when we’re not in rehearsal to get more practice in.”
You’re trying to contain your excitement, trying to remain calm and collected, so you give him a nod and then reach for your phone. “I was thinking the same thing. Here,” you hand him your phone and see him give you his. “Maybe we can meet up for coffee later this week?” 
Hugh smiles, typing in his number into your phone. “That’d be great. I know a perfect place.” 
You smile to yourself and type in your number before handing his phone back to him and taking your phone from him. “Perfect,” you respond, putting your phone back into your bag. “And if I get nervous at all–”
“Feel free to text me. Or call me.” Hugh finishes for you. “Like I said, I’m your man.” 
“Thanks, Curly,” you grin, changing your accent to reflect Laurey. “That’s mighty kind’a you.” 
Hugh chuckles, his eyes twinkling in the light as he smiles down at you. “Anythin’ for ya, Laurey.” 
REHEARSALS
The rehearsals have become more frequent as the date of opening night looms closer. You and Hugh have spent so much time together outside of rehearsals, either you coming by to his place or him coming to yours. Your relationship with him has blossomed in the span of a few months, feeling much more comfortable and confident around him. The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself catching feelings for him. You wonder if it’s because of the nature of the role you’re playing, being the love interest of his and the fact that you both have rehearsed the kiss and dances multiple times. 
Though, you can’t help but notice the frequent texts and calls from him that have nothing to do with the play, or the way he lingers around you, some part of him always needing to touch you – on your lower back, between your shoulder blades, your hand. It all seems innocent enough, but with each touch, with each lingering gaze, you feel more and more attracted to the possibility that maybe the feelings are mutual.
Today, it’s only you and Hugh in rehearsals, practicing the dance in the dream sequence. You’ve both gone over the dance plenty of times today, both drenched in sweat. You take a short break, sitting down on the floor as your back rests against the wall. You take a long swig of water before Hugh takes a seat next to you, his side flush against yours. 
“Hey you,” he says, smiling in your direction. “You really know how to push me,” Hugh chuckles. “And I thought I was the hardest worker. You definitely make me look like I’m not doing enough,” he teases. 
You roll your eyes, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh please, I’m only pushing you because you’re pushing me.” 
“What do you say?” Hugh asks. “One more rehearsal and we call it a night? Grab a bite to eat at my place?” 
“That sounds amazing,” you sigh in relief. “I’d have kept going if you hadn’t said anything.” 
Hugh chuckles, moving an arm around your shoulders as you lean into him. “You know, you can tell me to slow down. I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”
“I know,” you reply. “I just wanna prove to you and everyone else that I’m meant to be here.”
Hugh tilts his head. “You are meant to be here. You’ve got a lot of talent,” he says your name, eyes gazing into yours. “And this is just the beginning for you.” 
“Yeah, we’ll see after opening night,” you chuckle. 
“Not only are you talented,” Hugh says. “But you also love being on stage. Everyone can see it, can feel it. The audience will too. Now, get off your ass and let’s finish this dance.” He smiles, standing up and reaching out for you. 
You chuckle, taking his hands and standing up with his help. Your hands immediately dart out to rest on his shoulders, bodies flush against each other as your nose brushes against his. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For always reassuring me. I’m sure it’s exhausting.”
Hugh’s eyes never leave yours as one hand moves to rest on your lower back and the other takes your hand in his. “Not exhausting at all, baby,” he replies, his breath fanning over your lips. 
You clear your throat at the pet name, biting your lower lip as the music begins to play. You take a deep breath, trying to snap out of the trance that he put you in to focus on the dance sequence. Your gaze never leaves his as you both move across the dance floor. It was that specific moment where you were sure that he felt the same way. 
After rehearsals, you drive to Hugh’s place and see him step out of his car with a box of pizza. He leads you inside and walks into the kitchen, sitting at the table. You walk over to him and sit next to him, inhaling the aroma of food once he opens the box. 
“God, I feel like I can eat this whole thing,” you chuckle, taking a slice of pizza and lifting it to your lips. You’ve always felt comfortable around Hugh and you have to wonder if it’s because of him, how calm and grounded he makes you feel. You’re continuing to eat, eyes falling shut as you sway your body in the seat, just happy to be eating something. 
Hugh watches you with a loving gaze, eyes scanning your face as he stares at you. He certainly didn’t expect you to come into his life the way you did. It’s no secret that he gets along with everyone and has chemistry with every leading lady in his roles, but you… You’re a completely different story. He finds your passion to perform refreshing and your talent invigorating. Not only are you professional, but he appreciates your ability to put your all into each performance, even though it’s only rehearsal. It gets him excited to know that come opening night, everyone will know just how talented you are. 
He’s taken out of his thoughts when he sees you open your eyes, looking at him with a furrowed brow. 
“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.
Hugh smiles, eyes lowering to your lips as he sees pizza sauce at the corner of your lips. He also loves the fact that you’re not shy around him. He reaches up and wipes the pizza sauce from your lips with the pad of your thumb, staring into your eyes. “You’re a messy eater when you’re hungry.” 
The heat in your cheeks rises once again as you set the pizza slice down to grab a napkin, wiping your mouth. “You should have fed me during our break earlier.” 
Hugh chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Fair enough.” He doesn’t break the gaze, bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips and licking the pizza sauce from it. He sees your eyes dip down to his lips, hearing you quietly clear your throat as you bite your lower lip. 
“You’re cute, you know that?” Hugh blurts out, head tilting as he stares into your eyes. 
You roll your eyes and gently reach out to shove his shoulder. “Yeah right.”
Hugh chuckles, leaning forward in your space. “You are,” he whispers. “And there’s just something about you. I can’t put my finger on it…”
“Hmm…” you say quietly, eyes continuously darting to his lips. “Hugh…”
“Yeah, baby?” he says lowly. 
“Is this–” you whisper. “Is this appropriate?” 
Hugh then leans back, shrugging a shoulder. “Probably not,” he admits. “But I can’t be the only one who feels something between us…”
You look up at him, wanting to reach out for him, to pull him back closer, but you don’t. You’ve wanted him for months now, wanted this moment to happen for so long, but you couldn’t. You just didn’t know how things would change if you were both to cross that boundary… Even though you’ve both probably crossed so many lines already. 
“You aren’t,” you admit. “I want this just as badly as you, but–”
“Not yet,” he finishes for you. “After the play.”
You nod. “I just don’t know what’d happen if we do this while we’re still in production… I’ve waited for a few months, another few won’t hurt, right?”
Hugh bites his lower lip and shrugs. “Might hurt me,” he teases. “I mean, we’ve kissed already as Curly and Laurey. But I’d love to just kiss you as… As me.” 
“A kiss wouldn’t hurt,” you say quietly, slowly leaning into him. “But that’s all we can do.” 
Hugh nods and stands up from the chair to pull you up into him. The lights from the city reflect off his large windows as his hand rests on your lower back and the other on your cheek. Slowly, he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against yours. 
“If we do this,” he whispers lowly. “There’s no going back.” 
“Fine with me,” you answer. “Now kiss me already.” 
Hugh grins and then presses his lips against yours, fingertips resting on the back of your neck. You’ve both kissed so many times already, but this time feels so much more different. Your lips move against his own, hands moving to grip his arms. Hugh walks you back into his window, feeling the glass press against your back as his hand moves from your lower back to your hip. Your lips part for him and he slides his tongue past your lips, hearing you whimper as a result. 
The kiss deepens as tongues get involved, lips moving with more urgency against one another. You’re about to bring your leg up to hook around his hip, but you stop yourself, moving your hands to his chest and slowly pulling him away. Breathless and panting. 
Hugh rests his forehead against yours, eyes remaining shut. “I’d say that was a great real first kiss,” he laughs quietly. 
“Waiting for a few more months might prove to be tough,” you admit, moving your hands into his hair and tangling your fingers into his locks. 
Hugh chuckles and pecks your lips softly, pulling back to look down at you. “Maybe we don’t go the full distance… yet.” 
“What do you have in mind?” you ask, biting your lower lip as you stare up at him with desire filled in your orbs. 
“Come on.” Hugh takes your hand and leads you to his couch, sitting down against it and pulling you down onto him. You straddle his hips, clearing your throat as you feel his manhood press against your core. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips, leaning his head up slightly to capture your lips once more. 
“This okay?” he mumbles against your lips.
“More than okay,” you answer, beginning to move your lips with his. Without hesitation, you roll your hips against his own. You’re wearing leggings and he’s wearing sweatpants and while the fabric isn’t as thick as jeans, it’s still too much clothing for you because you need to feel more. You need to feel all of him. 
Hugh groans against your lips, feeling his manhood begin to stir awake at the friction. His hands slowly move upwards, underneath your shirt as his fingertips dig into the flesh of your skin. He leans up to gently bite at your lower lip, your moan escaping your lips. 
You apply more pressure when your hips roll against his, his length hardening and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. You feel a wetness pool between your legs, an anticipation settling into the pit of your stomach. You don’t know how you would wait another few months before fully feeling him inside of you since this sneak peek wasn’t helping. Instead, you’re yearning for more.
Hugh pulls away from the kiss only to place gentle kisses along your jawline, his hands continuing to move up your back, his fingertips brushing against your sports bra and back down to your lower back. The pressure in his pants tighten and he wants nothing more than to rip your leggings off your legs and slam into you, but he has to show some restraint.
You tilt your head slightly for him, exposing more of your neck as you feel his lips and his scruff brush against one of your many hot spots. You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders. 
“Hugh,” you moan quietly. When you feel his teeth graze your skin, you have to pull back to look down at him. Your chest is heaving and you’re almost breathless. “Mmm, if we don’t stop,” you whisper. “I won’t be able to control what will happen next.” 
Hugh smirks, licking his lips slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Let me just…” Hugh gently sets you down next to him, readjusting himself in his sweatpants and the action doesn’t go unnoticed. You can see the obvious tent in his pants and his hand grasping himself to adjust his hardening length into a much more comfortable position. You can see the outline of his manhood, feeling your throat go dry at the sight. He’s long and thick and you have to peel your eyes away from him to avoid just settling yourself on your knees between his legs. 
Hugh watches you, eyes taking in your frame from top to bottom. It doesn’t help lessen the pressure in his pants because it only just makes him harder. “I’m actually going to…” he begins, pointing down to the center of his sweatpants. “I’m gonna take care of this. Will you be okay for a bit?” 
You clear your throat. The thought of being under the same roof as Hugh as he’s jerking himself off to the thought of you excites you. “Y— Yeah, I’ll be, um…” you bite your lower lip. “I’ll be here.” 
Hugh nods and then leans over to kiss your cheek, lips brushing against your ear. “If I had it my way, you’d be the one helping me take care of this.”
You shiver against his words and look up at him. “And if I had it my way, I’d drop to my knees in front of you to take care of it.”
Hugh growls, the sight of you on your knees now fully ingrained in his mind. “Great,” he chuckles. “I’m gonna keep that in mind while I…” he points towards his lower half. “While I handle this.” Hugh then stands up from the couch and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, allowing you to lie down on the couch and letting out an exasperated sigh. 
“It’s gonna be a long few months,” you mutter to yourself.
OPENING NIGHT
You feel the nerves begin to build as you’re all getting ready to perform for opening night. You and the rest of the cast and crew are all ready to perform, but you… You’re anxious. You’re nervous. You’re afraid that you’re going to mess up, so when Hugh rests a hand on your lower back, you look up at him with a tense look on your face. 
“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he whispers. “Just have fun.”
You nod, feeling his hand drop from your lower back and you reach for it, giving it a tight squeeze. “Okay,” you say. “Just have fun,” you repeat. 
“Exactly. Let’s have a great show, yeah?” Hugh reassures. “And after this,” he whispers, lowering enough so that his lips hover against your ear. “We can finally go back to my place and take the next step.” 
That makes you stand straighter. You had been so focused on making sure that your performance was perfect as opening night approaches that you and Hugh hadn’t had an intense, passion-filled night since the night you had your first kiss with him. 
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as he pulls away with a wink. “You know just the right things to say,” you chuckle. 
Hugh grins. “I knew that’d get you excited.” 
You feel your nerves begin to settle as the curtain begins to rise, knowing that Hugh’s character begins the play with a song Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin’. 
Throughout the play, you feel at ease once you step on stage, easily slipping into character. The back and forth banter between your character and Hugh’s are filled with a hidden and unspoken passion that you have for each other. Despite the roles you’re both playing, you can feel the tension and excitement bubbling within you as the play continues. 
Just another hour and then you and Hugh can finally have the moment you both were waiting for. 
Your first time on Broadway proves to be more than what you expected and you love it. Being on stage, under the bright lights, with a cast and crew that has the same excitement and passion as you makes you aware of the fact that this is truly where you’re meant to be. You couldn’t believe that you had questioned yourself at the beginning of all of this. 
After the scene where Laurey fires Jud, you know what’s coming. The kiss with Curly, followed by the marriage proposal. Once your lips touch Hugh’s, it’s filled with so much passion and relief. Part of you has to wonder if it’s because the characters, Curly and Laurey, finally admitting the love they have for each other, or if it’s because the end of the play is nearing. 
And it isn’t until you pull away that you see a fleeting familiarity flicker in Hugh’s eyes, a grin lining his lips. Throughout the next scenes, you’re both side by side, basked in the joy of being newlyweds and you know there’s a scene where Hugh is shirtless with suspenders. You are both backstage, getting ready for the next scene as you see him flex his arms subconsciously. 
You’ve seen him shirtless before, but right now, there’s something about the sight that makes an immediate wetness pool between your legs. When Hugh looks over at you, he gives you a wink, knowing exactly that you were just checking him out. 
Throughout the rest of the play, as it nears the end, you can’t help the excitement that bubbles within you. It isn’t until the end of the play that Hugh’s touch becomes more urgent, like he’s just as ready to leave with you. Each person with a pivotal role is introduced at the end as they bow towards the audience. 
However, it isn’t until your name is called that the entire audience’s cheers become much louder. You walk towards the edge of the stage and bow, smiling and waving as they give you a standing ovation. You look back at your cast, back at Hugh, who all are clapping for you. 
It was a perfect night and you know it’s only beginning. 
You and Hugh join the rest of the cast for a celebratory after party, having changed into much more comfortable clothing. You’re both at other ends of the room, but while you’re each in a conversation with someone else, your gaze is locked on one another. 
It isn’t a secret that you’re attracted to each other, but tonight, it’s completely obvious. Hugh’s eyes move along your frame slowly and under his gaze – even from afar – it excites you. You look at the time, knowing that it’s already so late and you’re ready to leave. With Hugh. 
You make your rounds, saying goodbye to everyone until you reach Hugh. He excuses himself from the person he was speaking to and meets you halfway, eyes filled with anticipation. 
“I’m heading out,” you say softly. 
“Meet at my place?” Hugh asks.
You bite your lower lip and nod. “I’ll see you there.”
Hugh then reaches out for his phone and sends you a text. You pull out your phone and see a four digit number, furrowing a brow in confusion. “What’s this?”
“The code to get into my place,” Hugh confirms. “If you get there before me, feel free to let yourself in.”
You smile to yourself and then reach up to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “It was a great night, Curly.” 
Hugh’s arm tightens around your frame as he shuts his eyes, whispering into your ear. “And it’s only just starting, Laurey.” He pulls back and kisses your cheek, lingering for a moment before he pulls away completely. “I’ll see you in a bit, baby.” 
You leave the party and make your way to your car, anticipation simmering in your depths. You drive to Hugh’s house, knowing that you’d get there before him. So, when you enter the four digit code the gave you, you see the gates open and you drive into his driveway, the garage opening up for you. 
Just a few minutes after you park, Hugh pulls in behind you. You step out of your car and look over at him, seeing him turn off the headlights once he puts his car in park. He climbs out and strides over to you, arms wrapping around your waist immediately. Without allowing you to speak, he dips down and presses his lips against yours, moving them eagerly against yours. 
“Mmm,” you whimper, feeling his hand move to your backside as he gently squeezes it into his hand. 
“Let’s go inside,” he mumbles, pulling back to look down at you. “I’ve been waiting for months for this,” Hugh chuckles. 
You nod and take his hand, following him inside his home. You don’t get far because you lead him to his living room where you push him back onto his couch and you straddle his hips like the first night you shared your first real kiss with him. 
He doesn’t waste any time in removing your shirt though, growling at the sight of you completely exposed for him, having decided on not wearing a bra. Hugh feels drunk off of you, his mind swirling with the immense thoughts and ideas of what he wants to do to you tonight. He knows he won’t get a chance to do them all in one night, but he just isn’t sure what to do first. He wants to taste you, wants to be head first between your legs. But he also wants to feel your walls wrapped around him, milking him to his own release. 
But your moans… your moans pull him out of his thoughts and he’s suddenly very aware of the look on your face. The heat in your cheeks. Your parted lips. Your breaths coming in short pants. You want this just as bad as he does and it only excites him further. 
“You did amazing tonight, baby,” Hugh says softly, hands coming up to brush against you. 
You whimper, looking deeply into his eyes. “Thank you,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering as his thumbs brush against your peaks. “Hugh…” you moan quietly. 
“I know, baby. I know… Let me take care of you.” 
Throughout that night, you barely got any sleep, but when you did, you were completely spent. Hugh had helped you reach your climax more times than you can count and that had never happened before. He was so generous, so considerate, but it was only because he yearned for the sounds that escaped your lips. Loved to see you squirm against his touch, enjoyed the sight of your eyes fluttering when he finally entered you. 
Hugh knew he wanted more. Needed more. He felt like a possessed man once he finally got that first taste of you. You unleashed something almost animalistic in him – the desire to see you come undone. The first time it happened that night, Hugh was in absolute awe. The way you arched your back, lips apart, body squirming against his mattress and a loud moan escaping your lips… it made Hugh want more of that. Want more of you. 
And he was certainly going to get it, that he was sure of.
453 notes · View notes
anadiasmount · 2 months ago
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ana babes, hot tub/late night in the pool w jude fic please? i’ll pay u in infinite kisses💋 (btw no pressure ofc!)
by the edge - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: above!
wc: 2.1k | masterlist | jude's masterlist
psa : HIIII IMY ILYSMM, i'm sooooooo incredibly late to this, it's not even funny... but it has been in my drafts and i needed to finish this 😔 so here's summer! jude despite it being over... small suggestive content but not too in-depth. this is also insta au + fic combined!!
———— j.b ————
judebellingham added to their stories!
19 hrs ago | 9 mins ago
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———— j.b ————
spottedcelebrity
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liked by: popculture, thesun, dailymail, vouge, yourbestie, and 345,901 others!
spottedcelebrity: PHEW. we did not see this one coming! it’s looking like he’s finally showing off his lady, soft-launching her on his latest instagram story! stay tuned for more update and live show at 9pm!
username291: OH?? so he was actually being fr??
user09: the way no one saw this coming (im actually dying inside…)
username39: if you look closely that’s actually me!!!! 🤗
user21: girl bye-
username49: soft launching on his story is the bare minimum…
↪️ user11: isn’t that the point tho? who cares if it’s on his story? he just made a highlight dedicated to her 💋
username29: does anyone know who she is??
↪️ user19: no, he keeps her private.
↪️ username77: we don’t know that, maybe she doesn’t want to be in the public eye
↪️ user45: apparently she’s a business student at the university of madrid…
↪️ username86: people think it’s @ynusername but she’s private on everything so no one can clear that up
user74: oh! SHES GORGEOUS ??
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ynusername added to their stories! 🔒
19 hrs ago | 12 hrs ago
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———— j.b ————
“everyone on twitter is going crazy,” recalled jude, stepping out of the doorway. “why?” you laughed quesionably, unlocking your phone to check what he meant. you were rushed to see his fans eagerly wanting to know who you were, as jude had soft launched you on his latest post. they had not expected that one bit, now they we’re piecing to see who you were. 
it wasn’t anything new for you, as you had been doing that privately on your own instagram. the media knew he had a girlfriend, and jude respected your wishes to be private since it tended to be crazy hectic. yet the two of you liked to read comments late at night and see how theyre crazy theories came to light. 
“he was with his girlfriend at the airport, they both arrived with hats. she was very pretty and nice as well,” you read, feeling admiration at their comment. there was very few encounters you had together but all of them were positive to say the least which you were grateful for. the last thing you wanted was to be plastered in a tabloid of you being rude or mean. 
“a fan account pinned a comment earlier today, that you were a medical student and lived in norway? I never pictured it for it to get this crazy,” joked jude, hearing your laugh as you walked over to the mini bar. “do you want a drink? or would you like to share with me?” you asked, rubbing lime around the rim of the glass so you could coat with salt. 
“i’ll just take some sips out of yours,” replied jude, coming behind you to wrap his arms securely around your waist, placing kisses over your shoulder. jude watched as a you made the drink, eating fruit slices from the container you had bought in the morning. “i don’t know what it is, but the fruit here is so much better than the one in spain?” you say, jude immediately agreeing with you and going off how here he had the best mango ever. 
“careful, it's slippery,” jude gripped your hand and helped you get down the stairs carefully, making sure you wouldn't fall like he had done the first day here. the summer sea breeze was heavenly, reminiscing the last few days of summer with your boyfriend who seemed attached to you. jude’s second season at real madrid would start soon, and you were on your last year of uni. meaning this year would be hectic and stressful. 
yet right now all you could focus on was the palm trees leaves swaing, the late night sky, and the buzz feeling from your tropical drink. 
the past few days the two of you had spent exploring and having fun, taking tours around places, going ziplining, trying new foods, lots of walks along the shore, making seashell necklace and a bracelet for jude, and ending your nights like this, in the warm pool. you were grateful the place you had chosen to travel was sorta excluded from the world, being a private getaway without the media following around. 
“you okay? you seemed distracted,” jude asked swimming towards you where you lifted your hand to remove the water drops from his face. his sunkissed face from the past few days. you had to force him to wear sunscreen, listening to jude nag and complain he would be fine.  you knew this heat, humidity, and sun wasn't like the one in spain, easily burning in the first few seconds stepping outside. 
“i don’t want to leave, like ever,” you frowned and pouted your lip, jude chuckling as he picked you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands smoothed your bareback. “i don’t picture you as a thalassophile, with your little beach bag and sun hat,” jude joked earning a confused look from you. “a what?” you asked with narrowed eyes. 
“a thalassophile.”
“what even is that?” you giggled, your hand scratching the nape of his neck, as jude rested against the pool walls. “a thalassophile? it's someone who loves the ocean. for someone who claims they are the smarter one in the relationship, this is proving otherwise…” jude narrowed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours, seeing the warning look you threw at him. “as the smarter person in the relationship, i’m shocked you even know that word!” you gasp sarcastically. 
“hey! leave me alone…” jude tickled you making you swarm around and swim away from him, going to the edge of the pool where he followed. “what would you do? set up a small shop and sell souvenirs?” he teased, seeing how you looked away nonchalantly. “uhm yes? but mine wouldn’t be overpriced or aesthetic shops, i would bring the culture and actual diversity. give a tiny background of my items and what not…” you shrug with a shy smile, seeing jude’s eyes never leaving yours, watching how your lashes fluttered and iris dilate. 
“why are you looking at me like that? it makes me nervous, baby…” you admit with cheeks flushed, shaking your head. jude laughs and looks away, making you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. your pulse and heart racing with one simple glance from him. “does it? i didn’t know that,” he said carelessly, bringing you back into his embrace, tucking and brushing away your hair that covered your shy face. 
“stop lying…” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling jude’s warm hands as they ran your sides and thighs. “if i'm a liar, why aren't my pants on fire?” he joked terribley, his brum accent appearing more than ever, which made the two of you burst out laughing. “you and your jokes i swear… you think you're the funniest person ever,” you tease, hearing jude gasp. “maybe because i am?” defended jude. 
you swam back to your drink, having to pull off from your clingy boyfriend, who complained the minute you were away. you finished it, after offering jude some, hearing the ice clink in the glass, only having the strawberry left, which you took a bite of. jude watched intensely, seeing your lips around the red fruit and leave a trail behind. 
he swallowed deeply as you stepped near him, feeling your arm wrap around his shoulders, coming between his legs, your tongue licking off the extra strawberry off your top lip as you offered him some. his eyes looked up into yours, tasting the bitter yet sweet taste from the fruit as he took a bite. he stood up, towering over you as you placed the stem in the cup, your back resting on the pool. 
“you're so beautiful y/n… absolutely stunning,” he whispered, seeing upon how his words had an effect on you. you traced your hands around his bare muscles, veins decorating along his arms, as his fingers tilted your chin to him, jude crashing his lips on yours. he deepens the kiss, managing to sneek his tongue into your mouth, groaning and pulling closer to him, his hand tugging you locks of hair from the back, making you let out a tiny moan. 
“tastes so much better from your lips,” he whispered, yet he didn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. this was so different, so intimate, driven by lust. jude knew all your spots, and you learned his. he knew how to bring you to the edge, the movement, the words. so it wasn't a surprise when he pulled away, pressing your hips down onto him, kissing down your jaw to your sweetspot on your neck, sucking softly making you shiver and throw your head back. “mhm jude… what if someone sees?” you say worriedly.
“they won't… we’re alone here, it's just you and me.”
you leaned down and captured his lips again, smacking his shoulder gently. “not so fast,” you giggle, feeling as he fondled with the bowtie on your bikini. jude gave you a playful smile, knowing his intentions wouldn't be so innocent. “what i wasn’t doing anything,” jude shrugged. “right cause you never do, and especially on this trip…” you eye him down. 
“i just want to love and appreciate my girl.” 
“you have… i think this may be our favorite trip. it's something about this place i don’t know,” you blabber off, jude listening to every word, already making a future visits for the next years to come. maybe one day bring your kids to this paradise even himself grown to love. seeing you in a new environment, with your summer glow of happiness, he could get used to it. he would drop anything, even football, just to see you this radiant. it didn’t matter if it was in the sunlight or moonlight.
“you think our kids would love this place?” jude said suddenly making your crinkle your brows. “kids? you want to have kids with me?” you say unsurely, earning a confused glance from jude who tensed up. “yes… i wouldn’t picture anyone else,” jude replied, seeing how your eyes dazed from bewilderment to jovial. “you better not, you know how i am,” you give him a look. 
“trust me i know,” jude said, thinking back to the one time a girl wouldn’t get a hint he was with you, doing the upmost right in your face, flirting, touching him, following him. it didn’t help you were deep in with tequila shots, embarrassing the girl by calling her out in public. but she took the hint.
“i’m serious though y/n… i want everything and anything for you and us,” confessed jude, pecking your lips where you turned away shyly once again. “you don’t know the amount of times i think about our future. what were doing 5 years from now, our home, kids, hell pets even! i know you seriously want a cat, i’m willing to do whatever it is to see you smiling always…” he continued, your gazed bored into each other, as in a way of sealing this moment for eternity. 
“when you won the champions league that night, do you remember what i said to you?” you ask, seeing jude think about it, and by seeing his face you knew he was bound to say something silly. “i was really drunk that night, so i don’t recal much,” jude taunted, earning another gentle slap on his shoulder from you. 
“be serious!” you threatened with a huge grin.
“if you’re recalling when you promised a lifetime with me, confessed your love, and promised me that you’d stick with me forever? that you knew it was a complete different world when i was in it? that you wanted to continue making memories with me, no matter the sacrifices?” jude recalled, watching how your eyes became teary. “yes. i remember it all.”
you sniffed while also giggling, kissing jude deeply and messily once again. you notice how jude’s breathing accelerated, tugging you closer to him and keeping you steady, making you sigh in content. “i’ll never get tired of kissing you,” you admit, kissing his nose and a tiny mole he had at the end of his brow, as jude then twirled you both around, hearing the squeal of excitement escape your lips. 
“so about our babies-”
“babies?” 
“yes babies. i want more than 2 kids,” jude said with a huge smile, seeing how you gave him a look. “we’ll have one first and then see,” you state, seeing jude shake his head. “nuh uh, i’m not having that, especially when i heard you say to your best friends you would give me 6 kids when we met that night,” jude said smirking when he knew he had caught you. 
“YOU DID NOT HEAR THAT? OH MY GOD, YOU ACTUALLY HEARD THAT?”
the rest of the night, you and jude counted the stars, he even made another drink where he repeatedly insisted he wanted to repeat the kiss you once had. you even played those silly pool games where you threw a item in the pool and one of you had to find and retrieve it, a game of 2 truths and 1 lie, and recalling your earliest memories you could think of. 
towards the end of the night you sat on the edge of the pool, watching jude do some laps before he swam up to you. you clenched your legs together, when feeling his lips trail kisses up your thighs, forcing you to open them so he could continue on the inside of them. “what are you doing?” you shakily say, seeing jude look up to you as he placed a final kiss on a tiny scar you had. 
“nothing…” jude murmured, pulling you closer to him, where you now realized how this night would end. but you didn’t complain, because you wanted him that desperately too. showing him just how much you needed and wanted him. jude didn’t fight it either, having a taste by the pool side, to then carrying you into you room where he continued to show you, prove to you how special you were.  
“gonna take care of you, you deserve it angelito mio.”
———— j.b ————
judebellingham
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liked by: ynusername, brahim, yourbestie, camavinga, vinijr, sophiaamelia, fedevalverde, vogue, spottedcelebrity, and 4,888,769 others!
judeballingham: living life it's fullest along with you mi angelito divino 🤍
comments:
ynusername: EEKKK!! ILYSM 😣😣😣😣
ynusername: still thinking how sunburnt you got...
vinijr: no invite?
↪️ judebellingham: do you have a gf?
jobebellingham: literally why
↪️ judebellingham: why not?
spottedcelebrity: HARD LAUNCH? IS EVERYONE BREATHING OKAY?
↪️ ynusername: no.
trentalexanderarnold: very demure, very cutesy!
username19: hard launch? oh wow!
user38: this is actually so crazy im??????
vogue: HEY JUDE!
———— j.b ————
ynusername 🔒-> 🔓
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liked by: judebellingham, yourbestie, jobebellingham, jennaortega, monetmcmicheal, spottedcelebrity, rubendias, trentalexanderarnold, adidas, glossier, and 34,897 others!
ynusername: i LOVE my man!! ily ily ily!! happy gal in happy place with my man!! EEEKKKKK!!!!!!!!!! 💞💕♥️💘💖💓💗💝
comments:
judebellingham: i can't tell if this is sarcasm or your being fr...
↪️ jobebellingham: she hates you. she CAN'T stand you! blink twice if you need help y/n
ynusername: blinks three times **
judebellingham: strawberry kissed.
judebellingham: you're so sexy, i'm so in love with you.
judebellingham: another pool night?
↪️ ynusername: yess!! 🤭🤭
rubendias: lol.
↪️ user55: tea...
↪️ username76: OH? @spottedcelebrity take a look at this?
↪️ spottedcelebrity: yikes... ruben in the comments of THE y/n??
yourbestie: imy!! eek you're glowing!! 🥹🥹
username10: omg!! she has been soft-launching him for a YEAR?
user30: so we were right...
username85: ur a smart and gorgeous queen!
user99: stop i love them so much.
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dark-konohagakure2 · 4 months ago
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can i request a brother!sasuke + his friend naruto x (younger) sis!reader where sasuke decides to invite naruto over for a threesome? ( preferably, the reader + sasuke have a pre-established relationship)
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tw: incest, sibling incest, dubcon, sex toys, bondage threesome, implied abuse, implied grooming, pre-established Sasuke x reader, praise, spitroasting
All characters depicted are 18+
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Naruto has been getting very suspicious of Sasuke as of late. Naruto keeps asking to come over to Sasuke's house to hang out, but the Uchiha has been refusing to let him come over as of late, saying that he's busy 'training his little sister'. Naruto is pretty annoyed that his best friend is ignoring him seemingly only to teach his sister some new jutsus, so he asks if he can help with the training, and much to the blonde's shock; Sasuke agrees.
Naruto is really excited to hang out with his best friend, and he hasn't seen the youngest Uchiha sibling in a while, so he's excited to catch up with her! Sasuke also seems to be in a bit of a rush to get home. When they get to Sasuke's room, the brunette tells his friend that's he's going to show off the results of his sister's training, and Naruto is innocently excited! Until Sasuke opens his closet door...
Sasuke's younger sister is tied up and gagged, with sex toys turned on and stuffed into both of her holes, and she looks scared too, like a scene straight out of a smut novel. When Naruto gets incredibly flustered and asks Sasuke what the hell is going on, Sasuke simply shrugs and says that this is the 'training' that he was putting her through.
Naruto watches, mouth agape and pants tented as Sasuke handles his sister with uncharacteristic gentleness, sitting her down on his bed and untying her, removing the sex toys and a slow and torturous pace. Sasuke will speak to his sister in the softest tone Naruto has ever heard from the Uchiha's mouth, despite the words he's saying being less than soft and gentle.
"Cmon baby, it's time to show Onii-Chan's friend how well he's trained you... Can you do that? Hmm? That's my girl, now hurry it up, slut."
The younger woman looks nervous and hesitant, but Sasuke's encouragement wins out in the end and she obeys him. Naruto can barely look at her when she starts undoing his pants and stroking his cock with an almost practiced precision, like she'd been made to do it before. Naruto is shocked that the innocent girl who he almost views as a little sister figure is now taking his entire cock now like a trained slut, but despite his shock he isn't exactly complaining either.
The blonde's shock suddenly increases tenfold when Sasuke starts positioning himself behind his very own sister, and before Naruto can even ask what he's doing, Sasuke is already thrusting inside his sister, but the raven haired male assures Naruto that it's okay, and that she likes it, in fact; she's the one forcing Sasuke to do it with how adorably irresistible she's being on purpose.
Sasuke is nowhere near as gentle as Naruto, he'll praise her occasionally, but other then that he's just downright mean, thrusting into her roughly and smacking her around if he thinks she's being a bad girl. Naruto will call him out on this, but Sasuke shuts him up quickly by saying that this is just how big brother's play with their little sisters.
Naruto feels a little bit bad when he sees tears filling her eyes, although he can't tell if it's from pleasure or her current situation. Regardless, the Uzumaki comforts her, telling her that she did a good job and that her big bro taught her very well.
"A-Ah... There there, y-you're a good girl, just like Sasuke said, ya know? You're swallowing everything I shoot... I'm gonna go again, I'm sure that's okay with you..!"
The two friends are going to keep going at it with her regardless, and whenever she looks like she's about to say or do something out of line, Sasuke gives her a sharp look that shuts her up almost immediately, a look that tells her that she's gonna get punished again if she ruins the fun. Naruto is oblivious to these dynamics however, and just thinks to himself that he needs to go to Sasuke's house much more often now.
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sentoooo · 7 months ago
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ᴀʀɢᴇɴᴛɪ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ
✭ pairing(s): argenti x gn reader
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✧ a/n: i thought abt him toooooooo much. too much. just some headcanons..... hrghh
🗒 cw: SMUT, gn reader, praise praise praise, body worship, fingering, oral, mention of facesitting, penetration, switch argenti, cumming untouched, mention of overstim, mention of edging, not proofread
✎ wc: 1.1k
MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY
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Love is of the highest devotion to him. Everything he does for you, from simply holding your hands, to sex, it is all an act of devotion from him. You are equals with Idrila in Argenti’s eyes, and he will make sure to cherish you, and make sure you know just how much he adores you.
So it comes to no surprise that sex is a very, very lengthy activity with him. He wants to– needs to– take his time, he needs to love every inch of your body, worship every inch. He ghosts his fingers over every inch of exposed skin, from forehead to chest, from stomach to your waist, and so forth. Every little shiver and sound from you is like a sweet sonnet, it only adds to his mounting arousal.
It takes at least an hour for Argenti to get to the point. He needs to make sure he’s paid attention to every. single. inch. of you. He’ll go over your body with his hands, whispering all sorts of praises, before going over your skin with his lips. Peppering your body in soft, tender, fleeting kisses. If he can get you to cum without any penetration, then that’s perfect, too.
He doesn’t do this to tease you, of course. As stated before, he simply needs you to know how beautiful he believes you are. No matter how much you beg or whine or plead, he will not stop this routine. Sex just feels incomplete without it.
However, once he’s satisfied with his exploration, he follows your every order obediently. Your pleasure is his pleasure, it does not matter if it doesn’t mean any stimulation for him. As long as he gets to hear you moan, feel your touch, he’s happy. So happy.
On that note, one of his favorite things to do is give you oral. He’ll eat you out until you’re crying if you so wish, suck you off until you beg him to stop. Your taste is divine to him, it’s a true reward, and nothing can compare to it. A lifetime in between your thighs sounds lovely, and if he could, he would. When he can, he does his best to look up at you, his beautiful emerald orbs wide, glossy, studying every little detail in your face. There is no sight more enticing than his handsome face, stained by your slick and your cum. 
In fact, Argenti takes such great pleasure in oral, that he tends to cum while giving. Normally, he cums prematurely, enraptured by the sounds you make, the way you taste. Sometimes, you catch him rolling his hips slightly, but other times he is still. Most times he is still fully clothed, there’s a certain pride that bubbles in your chest to know you’ve made him cum untouched.
He loves to finger you or stroke you off, too. His hands, despite being a knight, are very soft. His fingers are long and slender, nails trimmed perfectly. He sits you up on his lap as he starts his ministrations, slow, and hypnotizing. And, of course, he whispers all sorts of saccharine words in your ear. “You’re doing so good”, “You feel so good, my heart…”, “Just once more, hm? Please?”
He will also follow any position you wish. If you want to be on top? Gladly. You want him on top? He’s climbing on top of you with a warm smile. Penetration is one of the highest acts of devotion, he believes. It brings you both closer, metaphorically and physically, and the feeling of his slender cock inside of you never ceases to amaze. Or, the feeling of you within him is enough to make him cum prematurely again.
We’ll get to top Argenti in a bit. When he bottoms, he prefers to ride you. He loves to see you, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. And Aeons, is the view incredible. His lips parted, his body flush, a blush spread across his cheeks, the tips of his ears, and his shoulders, silky soft hair splayed over his shoulders. It gives him some semblance of control, being able to choose the pace at which he fucks down onto you. However, if you guide him, he doesn’t mind either. Buck your hips up into him, he’ll whimper.
He also likes Missionary when he bottoms and tops, as mentioned previously, he prefers to see you. Hell, a mating press would be just fine to him. Both ways, again. Any way he’d take you, he’d love you to take him. And if you want to ride him, go right ahead! He won’t control the pace, unless you give him permission.
Now, when Argenti tops, he loves missionary and even the mating press. Mirror sex is always on the cards, he will take you any position, as long as he gets to see your beautiful face. But one of his personal favorites is spooning. While he can’t necessarily see your face, it is the closeness that allows him to ignore his own rule. He’ll nuzzle up to your neck, mutter sweet praises, kiss at your skin, and simply enjoy himself. There is no better feeling than his body pressed up against yours, as close as he can possibly be.
He is also vocal! Very, very vocal, but not loud. He moans, whines, whimpers, and even mewls. Doesn’t matter what he’s doing. You could be sitting on his face, and he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from moaning. Little breathy sighs even when he’s feeling you up escape his lips, he’ll moan directly in your ear when he fucks into you, or whine and whimper when you suck him off.
He does exactly as he says he will, and what you allow him to do. Never more, never less. He’s so insanely fair with you, and he lets you be as unfair as you want. Sometimes he can feel a little pent-up and sexually frustrated, but he never asks you for anything, which is… a little unfortunate. He’s good at asking what you want, the communication doesn’t lack there, but he’s very bad at asking about his wants. It’s a guessing game, or more of, he never really has any wants, aside from making you see stars.
Argenti acts like every little service you let him do to you is the most blessed thing. He also has a bad habit of thanking you with every little act you let him do, whether it be eating you out, or you edging him. Going down on you? “Thank you, my love.” running his thumbs over your nipples? Thank you, a million times over, dearest.” Sucking him off to the point of overstimulation? “Thank you, thank you– ngh…– thank you…”
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© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog
DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
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poppedbubblgum · 1 year ago
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I’ve had this au in my brain for months now and only recently drew for it so I’m here to add to the pile of rise aus haha
It’s the standard separated au but my version B) - Donnie grew up with Splinter, Leo stayed with Draxum, Raph ended up at the battle nexus and Mikey was left to roam the streets of the Hidden City.
More info under the cut-
Donnie: The most mentally stable of the brothers somehow. He was raised in the sewers with splinter, and even though he did receive care, splinter still couldn’t really provide much in terms of affection. Despite that they still love each other, even if distantly. He’s chronically online. He knows every vine ever and plays fps games a lot yes I made him a gamer. He and April are extremely close in this au, having met at a young age and April being the closest thing Donnie has to a sibling until finding his brothers. Splinter also refuses to tell Donnie anything to do with mutants/yokai, or even where they came from, much to Donnie’s dismay. Without his brothers and their antics, he doesn’t get out much, and hasn’t made a battle/protective shell for himself yet.
April: She and Donnie met in early childhood and were practically inseparable, them both being only children, and they basically became each other’s annoying sibling. She’s the only reason Donnie came out of his shell (heh) and she likes to take him onto the surface streets for shenanigans.
Leo: Huguinn pulled Leo from the wreckage of Draxum’s lab and was raised in the rebuilt lab. Draxum genuinely didn’t expect the turtles to come out as literal infants after mutation so it’s a miracle Leo even survived this long lol. (Huguinn and Muninn did most of the work tbh) Draxum considers Leo to be a biproduct/fragment of a failed experiment and uses Leo more as an errand boy than anything else. Because of that Leo’s and Draxum’s relationship is also distant. Leo acts nonchalant and sarcastic for the most part, but he can’t help but want to please Draxum. Leo knows about his brothers and even tried looking for them early on, but eventually gave up. He and Donnie meet first. Also he sneaks out to get pizza at Hueso’s when he’s bored.
Raph: His and Mikey’s stories start out intertwined. They both ended up in the hidden city and lived out the early years of their lives there. When he was around 7 years old, Mikey being 5, Raph was taken as a contestant for a battle royale at the nexus, composed entirely of young yokai. (The battle nexus is quite literally a gladiator ring where contestants kill one another) Raph was taken due to his large size, and after managing to survive the battle royale, Big Mama allowed him to stay and become a fully fledged fighter at the nexus. He moved his way up in rank and became one of the top Nexus champions under the stage name, The Beast. He’s soft spoken and quick to anger at first, having received so little friendly interactions.
Mikey: He and Raph lived in the hidden city together until Raph was taken when he was around 5 years old. After that he was basically left to fend for himself. He survived via stealing and living on rooftops and alleys Aladdin style. He’s incredibly agile and a master pickpocket. He even made a name for himself in the district where he lives as the local thief. This, however, hasn’t dampened his spirits at all and he’s just as bright and bubbly as ever. He loves anything and everything to do with art and often does graffiti wherever he can. He’s an avid battle nexus fan and watches the battles whenever he can ( Leo is also a huge fan).
I’ve legitimately had this au in my head for months and this isn’t even close to everything I’ve conjured up but I had to make something for it or else I’d explode. Despite there being a lot of room for angst in this au, I imagine it as more lighthearted and similar to the show in terms of comedy. If you read this far congrats and give me your strength please
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runariya · 26 days ago
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One shot where jk is a virgin and he loses his V card to the popular girl OC and they fall in love. School/uni base setting.
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part of the prompt game pairing: virgin nerd!Jungkook x popular!female reader genre: university!AU, S2L, fluff, smut warnings: pining, love at first sight, fluff, JK's a virgin, OC thinks JK is a fuckboy, smut, fingering, early male orgasm, switch in POV from JK to OC, slow fluffy protected sex, OC is on top, fluff, fluff, fluff, love confessions, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 1.618
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If he could write a symphony for you, he definitely would.
He’d tell the strings and trumpets to play as beautifully as heaven would, as it let you descend to earth to grace him with your presence.
But Jungkook simply can’t.
Not just because he doesn’t know a thing about writing a symphony, but because you’re plainly and agonisingly out of his league. He’s also pretty sure you don’t even know his name, despite being in the same major since freshman year, sharing every single class, day in and day out.
Jungkook’s been in love with you since the moment he first saw you—the popular, humble girl surrounded by hundreds of friends and three times as many admirers. And there’s no way, not even if hell froze over, that he, the officially crowned nerd of the university, will ever have the honour of even speaking to you.
Though that hasn’t stopped him from admiring you from afar, or even—something he’d never, ever admit—rubbing one out just because your eyes grazed his for a split second.
It’s a bit of a shock that, after being convinced by his friends to join them at a frat party one Saturday night, not only is he in the same room as you, but he’s sitting on this overly worn couch, chatting with you as if it’s just the two of you in the world.
He reckons your voice is even more melodic up close, your eyes not only beautifully deep but pulling him in, making escape impossible. You’ve been sitting close the whole time, but now—oh, now—you’re practically on his lap, and he’s struggling to keep it together.
Trying his best to stay cool, to hide how much his virgin self is rattled by your attention, Jungkook gathers all his courage to finally ask, “Do you want to head out?”
Neither of you has had a single drop to drink, and he’s not sure if his feelings for you have already made him drunk, but he swears he’s hallucinating when you beam at him and say, “Yes, sure.”
Fast forward: after you took his hand and both of you slipped away into the night, heading towards Jungkook’s dorm, you’re now on his bed, clothes long forgotten. Jungkook’s trying to recall everything he’s read and seen about sex on the internet, but he isn’t sure if he’s doing it right.
It seems you’re not the least bit bothered by his slightly shaky hands, which are doing their best not only to commit the feeling of your soft skin to memory but to pleasure you as much as he possibly can.
The taste of your lips is divine, but the squelching and pulsing of your tiny cunt is by far the best thing that’s ever happened to Jungkook. He never would’ve thought he’d come this far, but now he’s not about to back down, even if his own orgasm is far too close for his liking.
“Kook,” you mewl under him, hips pushing eagerly into his tattooed hand as two fingers pump and stretch you so incredibly.
“Baby, fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook breathes against your lips, no longer able to hide his true feelings.
You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep your first orgasm at bay because, quite frankly, tonight’s a dream come true. You finally had the guts not only to talk to your long-time crush but to have him in bed with you.
It’s nothing like what you thought it would be with Jungkook—the shy, private guy who keeps his circle small and rejects every woman who tries to approach him. He’s not the fuckboy you thought he might be, but an attentive, loving partner, and now you see he’s giving you everything he has.
Even the foreplay is the best you’ve ever had, and while his eyes and low grunts could make you cream his fingers in an instant, it’s the sight of his tattoo sleeve and his massive, leaking cock resting on your thigh that pushes you so high, you’re seeing every colour of the rainbow.
The fact that Jungkook comes all over your thigh and stomach just from the sight and the fact that he gave you an orgasm drives you mad in every way possible. And as he tries to get off you, fingers leaving your cunt as it calms down, you don’t let him slip away, grabbing his head with both hands to kiss him fiercely. You roll over, straddling his waist, trapping him where he belongs.
Jungkook doesn’t protest, his fingers tracing the expanse of your spine while his other hand holds your ass to make you more comfortable.
“Just tell me when you’re ready again, yeah? No pressure, Kook.” You press your lips softly to his face and neck, leaving a trail of kisses, toying with his silky hair and caressing his buff arms and pecs.
His soft moans, paired with his fluttering lashes, make him look and sound like an otherworldly being, though you’ve always thought of him as such.
It feels not only cold but empty where his hand leaves your ass to open the drawer beside him, rummaging blindly for a condom.
“You sure?” Jungkook asks for the nth time tonight, and once again, your answer is the same.
“Yes. Are you?”
The pink dusting Jungkook’s cheeks hasn’t faded since you first kissed him, but now, with that broad smile and perfectly aligned teeth on full display, you realise your crush has transformed into the purest form of love.
“Of course, beautiful.”
Seeing that his hands are shaking a bit more than yours, you take the liberty of grabbing the condom from him and putting it on for him—not because you’ve probably got more practice than he does, but to ease his nerves a little more. And it works, as he lets his hands rest on your thighs, squeezing them ever so gently as if to say he’s here and won’t ever leave.
As you line up his cock with your dripping cunt, knowing it’ll be hard to relax and make him fit easily, you can’t help but lean back down towards him, your free hand cradling his chiselled jaw, hoping he’ll feel the devotion you have for him in the kiss you share.
As expected, it’s tight—nearly too tight—as your cunt practically screams at the orgasmic burn of his cock, but you can’t seem to give it much attention when Jungkook’s shimmering eyes, like the polar lights on the darkest nights, hold you captive.
And when you hit his pelvis, both of you moan, lips drawing together like magnets once again, tongues intertwining over and over as if they’re linking you both together for eternity. You can’t stay still for long, and Jungkook seems to share this thought as his hands settle on your hips, helping you ride him just right.
It’s slow, it’s intense, and it’s everything you wanted—everything Jungkook is. You hope he feels the same because there’s no way you’ll ever want, no need, something or someone else.
“Gosh, I love…it so much,” you barely manage to catch yourself tripping over your words, but it’s as if Jungkook understands nonetheless when he picks up the pace, his hand reaching up to tangle in your hair and take your breath away—not only with the increased rhythm but with a kiss full of emotion.
It doesn’t take long for both of you to explode in fireworks as bright as the sun itself. How could you not, when it feels like you were meant to be, when it feels as if you were soulmates?
Your breathing slowly comes down as you lie on his chest, listening to his powerful and calm heartbeat while he traces mindless circles on your back and massages your scalp. You want this moment to last, you want him to last.
But you don’t know how.
Thankfully, Jungkook finds his voice first as he carefully shifts you off him, not minding the condom still wrapped around him.
“Thank you,” he says softly, tracing the lines of your face with gentle fingers while his eyes turn a little sad with longing that mirrors yours.
You take his hand in yours, kissing each knuckle without breaking eye contact, causing the sadness to fade just a bit.
“Jungkook?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you want this?”
“What do you mean?”
You’re sure he’s not playing dumb because he genuinely looks confused, his eyes switching between yours.
“Do you want me?”
There’s a bit of silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward in the slightest.
“Do you want me?” he asks right back, serious as if you need to rethink.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Jungkook takes a deep breath, and after relaxing his lips from a straight line, he confesses, “You are my first.”
You never would have thought that to be true, but you’re sure he’s honest with you right now because looking back, there were little, barely noticeable signs that could have pointed to that.
“You’re not my first,” you confess as well, knowing that not every woman bleeds on their first time.
Jungkook just shrugs into the mattress, his hand still intertwined with yours. “I love you.”
He says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you reckon it is, because you absolutely feel the same.
“I love you too.”
You’re both giggling like teenagers, your pair of eyes sparkling not only with happiness but with the adoration you hold for each other.
“Okay, girlfriend.”
“Okay, boyfriend.”
And with that, Jungkook pulls you closer, sealing your relationship with the sweetest kisses from the sweetest lips you’ve ever tasted and will ever taste.
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rafedarling · 2 months ago
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐲/𝐧
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
summary: y/n attends the wedding of her best friend, rafe cameron, and his bride sofia. In a bittersweet moment, she reflects on her deep, unspoken love for rafe as she makes a heartfelt speech during the reception. despite the pain of unrequited love, she stays strong, showing genuine happiness for rafe’s new chapter with sofia. | word count: 1,0k
warning(s): english is not my first language. your point of view, contains themes of unrequited love, emotional vulnerability, and heartache, no happy ending. based on ‘love, rosie’.
au: i wrote small drabble while watching ‘love, rosie’, i hope you’d cry with me, also listen to lost with you by patrick watson while read this. like, reblog and comment/feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @mileyraes @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy @enjoymyloves
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His wedding was perfect, or at least it seemed that way to everyone else. Crisp white flowers adorned every table, soft glow candlelight. Sofia looked stunning in her dress—elegant, poised, and radiant in the way brides should be. I could see why Rafe fell for her. She was the picture of everything he probably wanted. Everything.
I stood in the back of the crowd as they exchanged vows, a bittersweet lump forming in my throat. It was strange, watching someone you love pledge their life to someone else. But I had no choice. This was Rafe. He was my best friend before anything else, and even though I had buried my feelings for him for years, today they seemed to rise up like a tidal wave threatening to crash over me.
I should have told him. Maybe not today. Maybe not even yesterday. But a long time ago, when we were still reckless teenagers, when we stayed up all night laughing at dumb inside jokes, and he looked at me like I was the only one in the room. That’s when I should have said it. That I loved him.
But now, it was too late. Sofia was his future. She stood across from him, gripping his hands, tears of happiness filling her eyes, and all I could do was smile and clap like everyone else. Like the supportive friend I’d been for so long.
The reception flowed with music and laughter, the champagne bubbling like the excitement in the air. I was halfway through a glass of wine when the best man finished his speech, and the MC signaled for me to step up to the microphone. My heart raced as I stood, smoothing my dress and moving to the front.
Rafe shot me a look as I walked up, his familiar crooked grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He was happy, genuinely so. And even though my heart was heavy, I couldn’t let that ruin this moment for him.
The microphone was cool in my hand as I cleared my throat, looking out at the sea of faces, some familiar, some not. Then, I found his eyes—Rafe’s deep blue ones—and took a steadying breath.
“For the people who I haven’t had the pleasure to greet… Hi, I’m Y/n,” I started, my voice sounding steadier than I expected. “Rafe and I have known each other forever. We’ve been through it all together—good times, bad times, and some incredibly embarrassing times. Rafe, for example, can drink to an almost lethal alcohol concentration.”
A few laughs rippled through the crowd, and Rafe chuckled, shaking his head in mock embarrassment. I smiled, feeling the warmth of our shared memories.
“On my 18th birthday, he decided that the best way to celebrate was tequila. Lots and lots of tequila. And while I’m pretty sure we both blocked most of that night from memory, I can confirm that Rafe is, indeed, capable of not remembering an entire evening.”
The room filled with laughter, and even Sofia laughed along, her hand resting gently on Rafe’s arm. I swallowed hard, pushing down the pang in my chest.
“But in all seriousness,” I continued, my tone softening, “choosing the person to share your life with is one of the most important decisions we make. Because if you get it wrong, life can become… well, gray. We both know that well, don’t we, Rafe?” I smiled at him, and for a second, I saw the flicker of understanding in his eyes.
“Your friendship has brought color to my life, and I’ve been lucky enough to have you by my side in some of the darkest moments.” My voice wavered slightly, but I kept going. “I’m the luckiest person in the world for that. And I hope I haven’t ever taken it for granted, though maybe I have at times. Because sometimes, you don’t realize that the best thing that ever happened to you has been right under your nose all along.”
I paused, letting the words hang in the air. Rafe’s smile softened, but I couldn’t tell if he truly understood what I meant. If he’d ever understood how deeply I cared.
“And that’s okay,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “Because I’ve learned something important: no matter where you are, no matter what you do, or who you’re with, I will always be here for you. I’ll always love you. Like a sister loves her brother, and like a friend loves a friend.”
I saw Rafe’s eyes glisten slightly, and Sofia squeezed his hand tighter, her gaze flicking between us as if trying to decipher something. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t take back the years of silence. This was his day, not mine.
“I’ll always stand guard for your dreams, Rafe,” I finished, raising my glass. “No matter how far-fetched or impossible they may seem. So, let’s raise a toast to the bride and groom. To Rafe and Sofia Cameron.”
The room echoed my words as everyone lifted their glasses in unison. Rafe smiled at me, a genuine, heartfelt smile that felt like a dagger in my chest. But I smiled back, because that’s what friends do. They celebrate the happiness of the ones they love, even if it’s not their own.
As I sat down, I felt the weight of everything I didn’t say pressing down on me. The laughter and chatter around me blurred into background noise as I stared at my glass, running my thumb along its edge. I was happy for him, truly. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling of what could have been.
Maybe in another life, it would’ve been me standing beside him. Maybe in another life, I would have told him how I felt long before today. But in this life, I would remain what I always was—his best friend.
With music and dancing and stolen glances, I realized that sometimes… love isn’t about being with someone. Sometimes, love is about letting go, and hoping that they find happiness, even if it’s with someone else.
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dumbobsessivebitch · 6 months ago
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can you do something for Kate where reader is a nerd and acedemic weapon???? like she’s always locked in and she’s also the manager for the team so kate is infatuated by how perfect reader is and doesn’t think that reader is gay because reader is really girly??
DON'T MENTION IT - KATE MARTIN
The soft hum of the overhead lights in the basketball gym was the only sound breaking the silence as Y/N worked at her laptop. The team had just wrapped up practice, and the players were trickling out, their laughter and chatter slowly fading into the background. Y/N, the team manager, was focused on updating the team’s stats and schedules. Papers were scattered around her as she continued typing away.
Kate had always admired Y/N. She was the perfect combination of brains and beauty – she maintained impeccable grades while efficiently managing the team’s needs. Despite her bright, bubbly demeanor and her obsession with in pastel sweaters and floral skirts – Kate had never thought that Y/N might like girls. It seemed too good to be true.
Earlier that day, during practice, Kate had noticed Y/N looking more stressed than usual. She was usually so composed, but today, her movements were hurried as she did 20 things at the same time. Caitlin had noticed too.
"Is she okay?" Kate murmured to Caitlin, her eyes fixed on Y/N, who was frantically flipping through her notes.
Caitlin smirked, nudging Kate with her elbow. "Someone’s got it bad, huh?"
Kate blushed, rolling her eyes. "I'm serious, Caitlin. She looks really stressed out."
"Yeah, I noticed," Caitlin admitted, her tone softening. "But it’s cute how worried you are. You should just talk to her, you know."
Kate sighed, watching as Y/N ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I know. I just don't want to make things worse."
"Trust me," Caitlin said, giving Kate a reassuring pat on the back. "You won’t. She could probably use a friend right now. And maybe more than that."
As the last of her teammates left, Kate lingered by the door, pretending to check her phone. She glanced up to see Y/N still engrossed in her work, her shoulders hunched with tension. Something in her posture seemed off, she usually seemed so confidence and sure of herself.
Concerned, Kate approached quietly. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay?"
Startled, Y/N looked up, her eyes wide. "Oh, Kate! I didn't realize anyone was still here. Yeah, I'm fine, just a bit overwhelmed with all this work."
Kate moved closer, noting the tear tracks on Y/N's cheeks. "It doesn't look like just a bit. Do you want to talk about it?"
Y/N's façade crumbled, and she buried her face in her hands. "I'm so embarrassed. I should be able to handle this, but it's too much sometimes."
Without hesitation, Kate sat down next to her, placing a comforting hand on her back. "Hey, it's okay. You do so much for us and keep everything running smoothly. It's okay to feel overwhelmed."
Y/N looked up, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I just don't want to let anyone down. I feel like I have to be perfect all the time."
Kate's heart ached for her. "You don't have to be perfect, Y/N. You're already amazing. We all appreciate everything you do. You’re allowed to have a moment."
Y/N sniffled and managed a small smile. "Thanks, Kate. I don't know what I'd do without you guys."
Kate's hand moved from Y/N's back to gently cup her cheek. "We don't know what we'd do without you either." Her voice softened, and she added, almost hesitantly, "You know, you're incredible, Y/N. More than you realize."
There was a charged silence between them as Y/N processed Kate's words. Slowly, she leaned into Kate's touch, her eyes searching the taller girl's face. "Really?"
"Really," Kate whispered, her breath hitching as she leaned in closer. Their lips met in a soft kiss, both of them melting into the moment, all of Y\N's stress and worries disappearing in a second.
When they finally pulled apart, Y/N's cheeks were flushed, but she was smiling genuinely for the first time that evening. "Thank you, Kate. For everything."
Kate grinned, leaning down to kiss the girl again "don't mention it"
A\N : I tried my best I hope you guys like it!
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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago
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We all know how loaded Bruce is, it’s a well known fact that he’s loaded to the high heavens.
So with that out of the way, when he sees your eyes lingering on something you’d like but don’t have to money for *cough* a £48/£58 plush *cough* Bruce will memorise the name of the store, the product you wanted and buy it on your behalf and have it sent to you under his name.
£48/£58 is mere pocket change to this man and will wave off any and all attempts you make in trying to gift him back for it. You wanted the plush and all he did was buy it for you, as to Bruce there was no need for you to go out of your way to repay him.
Just accept the plush and that’ll be all the repayment he’ll ever need. (He always when it comes to people trying to repay him for a simple act.)
Not use to tender, caring touches you’d give out that he kind of flinches away at first, holding his breath and all of his muscles stiffens upon reflex. However if you were to give him time, he’ll slowly begin to relax and unclench his jaw and relaxes his muscles as he releases a sigh while easing into your touch; practically putty in your hands as your thumbs caresses just under his eyes and across his darkening eye bags.
This man has never know a day of rest in his entire life. He firmly believes that Gotham is his responsibility 24/7 and feels partially responsible for how the town came to be the way it was. So showing him basic affection and kindness is kind of foreign to him, but he comes to greatly appreciate those aspects of yours and finds himself wanting more but never knowing how to ask.
Now just imagine this 6’2 man awkwardly scuffling next to you as he internally deducts the best possible way to ask you to hold him, all the while you could only become worried with how intently he was staring at your arms. You didn’t want to say anything because of the instance that you might be crossing a boundary of his, whereas Bruce was severely struggling in trying to get across his want for you to initiate the first move.
The air between you two being filled with a kind of awkwardness that didn’t make the situation any less stressful for the both of you either. However this gets better with time also, much like everything else did the longer you stay with Bruce.
Every Robin he’s ever had held a place in his old heart.
From dick all the way to Damian, each and every one of them were his soft spot, they were his kids and very much still are his kids despite being all grown up! So when Bruce sees you get along with any of them, it’s guaranteed to melt his heart seeing the people he cares for most in his life getting along. His dead set face may seem unchanged by the interaction but just know that internally he’s planning more situations where you’d get to interact with one or all of them.
And if you look close enough, you’ll be all to see the beginnings of a smile beginning to stretch across his face, destined to grow an inch bigger as he watched you interact with the rest of the family. Bruce would watch how you’d laugh and smile to whatever Dick was saying, how incredibly attentive you are with Damian and his artwork, and how understanding and thoughtful you were towards Jason and his reasonings and so on.
Bruce is a softy. A teddy bear if you will.
He’s not always a brooding dude, especially not when he was with you. He’d actually smile, chuckle and even make a rare joke from time to time.
You’re his personal pillow bc this man is severely allergic to proper sleep like the fucking insomniac that he is.
I wish I was joking but I’m not, you’re his personal pillow that helps aid him into a dreamless slumber but don’t be surprised at how tightly he’d hold onto you in his sleep.
Also he’s adamant in sleeping with his back towards the door and is also adamant that your back was pressed against the wall for protective reasonings. It didn’t matter that you’d often remind him that Wayne Manor was probably the safest place to be in Gotham, especially with all the securities put in place, but Bruce was adamant on the fact that your protection should come first even when sleeping.
He’s protective to an almost suffocating amount. Being Batman who had his own rouges gallery of villains was one thing and to be expected, but being Bruce Wayne came with it’s own form of dangers that were out to get him and anyone in association. So needless to say that you were under constant observation no matter where you went, and it was all in due to Bruce’s inherent distrust towards anyone he wasn’t well acquainted with.
He’s got a tracker on you and will watch the screen with a serious look upon his face as his eyes follows you on your route home for abnormalities of any kind, all the while keeping tabs on a open radio channel for any signs of criminal activity within the areas that you were walking.
Bruce doesn’t take your safety lightly and wouldn’t like it if you didn’t take your safety nearly as seriously as he does. So don’t even attempt to make jokes about it because Bruce will take it in full offence, for to him there was a time and place for making jokes but making jokes regarding your safety wasn’t one of them.
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three-realms-archive · 4 months ago
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Beel is Pillow
It starts off as harmless and convenient - like most of your shenanigans with the Seven Avatars of Sin.
Beelezebub, the second-youngest, is the easiest to just… fall into. He doesn’t stutter and stumble, like Mammon and Levi first do. Neither does he fuss over you like Asmo or Satan. Lucifer and Belphie are also unfazed when you cuddle into them, but expect a certain position if you don’t want them to complain (though, once you feel their warmth, you never really do).
But, with Beel, there is no compromise. No caveats. Just cuddles.
“Beel is my pillow.” You declare when Lucifer asks what on Earth you’re doing, collapsed on top of his younger brother in the middle of the House of Lamentation common room floor. Cuddling isn’t an uncommon sight in the House, but Lucifer notices a sofa right there. Just a few inches away. And yet, the two of you have opted for the rougher, probably itchy, carpet instead.
“Can you not do this on the sofa?”
“My pillow Beel. Beel is pillow.” You simply reiterate, burying your face deeper into the crook of Beel’s neck. Your limbs are sprawled and you’re drained of energy from a long day of work, but - despite the uncomfortable position and place - the demon moulds his arms and legs to fit around yours, without complaint. Despite everything, it feels like cuddling the softest pillow.
“Beel. If they fall asleep, they could hurt their back.”
“It’s okay.” Beel says, with a closed-eyed smile. He looks incredibly content. “I’m their pillow.“
Lucifer sighs. “And if you get hungry?”
Beel gestures with his head to the nearby sofa. Lucifer leans forward and discovers a hefty pile of snacks, previously obscured from sight by your bodies.
“I’m pillow. Beel pillow.” Beel reiterates, simply.
“I understand that you are acting as their pillow, but -“
“Beel -“
“Fine, fine.” Lucifer cuts the both of you off, exasperated when you both start to speak in sync. “Yes, fine - Beel is pillow. Just move it to the sofa or the bed if you continue after dinner so you don’t wake up with cramped legs or bad backs.”
(The first short story! Beel's my favourite so i naturally have a soft spot for him, but i'm pretty sure it's most likely canon that they all give really good cuddles. i hope you enjoyed this :D)
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dmitriene · 10 months ago
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𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗟𝗘𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗞 𝗚𝗙.
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❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘣𝘧 𝘪𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘧 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘛𝘖𝘖𝘛𝘏 𝘙𝘖𝘛𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘍𝘓𝘜𝘍𝘍, 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘛, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘜𝘎𝘎𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘝𝘌 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘯��𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘺, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘺, 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦?
 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄
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leon's life, let's say, is devoid of all pink shades and carefreeness is almost complete,wherever he is, he is haunted by grayness, and the tones of his usual clothes are also not selective in brightness but rather lean toward black and blue, not to mention the fact that the events in his life as such are also not rosy, not at all.
but all the missing pink shades were added to him by you, and he damnably adored you, your pink clothes, cosmetic accessories, elements of home comfort, you instantly colored his life with your presence, starting with the image and ending with the details that gradually formed in his apartment — pink pillows, plush toys, sheets, brushes, shower gel with some incredibly sweet scent? everything he didn't have.
leon himself did not notice how the gentle shade began to attract him, although to be more precise, he was attracted to you, and the color was just a pleasant coloring of his everyday life, he treated you as he saw you, with a funny insistence that because of all this you reminded him of a princess, that’s why he behaved appropriately with you, gentle kisses, gentle touches, carrying you in his arms and trying to keep you from any danger, like a porcelain doll, afraid that an extra word, action or movement — would break you.
he looked with adoration when you bought some new clothes with him, a bunch of frills on blouses and skirts, some charming stockings and shoes, and not necessarily something open, sometimes it could be long sleeve shirts, jeans, with some particularly cute print and pink color, showing him things and trying them on yourself, listening to the approving hums, looking into his burning blue eyes and listening to how he continually, unable to restrain himself, showered you with compliments, asking you to twirl — «have a best girlfriend in the world, hmm? such a pretty dollie, such a gorgeous girl, twirl for me darling, would you?»
there were times when you both sat in the living room on the weekend, you on a soft sofa with your legs apart and with some kind of cosmetic mask on your face, while leon sat on the carpet between your spaced plush thighs, his dark strands collected with a soft bandana as you carefully placed the same mask you wore on his face, despite the fact that his skin was usually incredibly clear, you wanted him to relax with you, even if it meant listening to his mumbled complaints — «sweetheart, i don't think it's.. uh.. for me»
but you just frown in response, pouting a little and muttering with feigned resentment in your voice — «want you to be pretty with me» and how can he say no to that? a slightly rough laugh immediately sounds under your ear and he waves his head slightly, still allowing you to carefully and evenly place the fabric mask on his face to get into the cutouts, when he looks into your eyes and slightly stretches out his lips like a tube, beckoning you to kiss him, to which you immediately smile and softly peck him on the lips, fidgeting with your nose against his with a pleased look, carefully holding the mask on your own face.
leon also loved to take warm baths with you, he never thought that bathing in aromatic oils and pink foam with the scent of cherry could relax so much, and how wrong he was, because as soon as he settled into a ceramic bath and your warm body pressed against his, settling between his legs, he immediately wearily buries his nose in the back of your neck, causing you to giggle lightly from the tickling as he squeezes you like a plush toy, feeling how the tension in his muscles gradually seems to dissolve.
he allows you to rub fragrant oils into his shoulders, massaging in circular motions and watching as his eyelashes flutter, closing his blue eyes that practically roll back when you move along his arms, sitting to face him and allowing him to soon hide in your damp shoulder, going limp and making relieved moans every time you massaged the knots in his muscles, devoting all your time to caring for your beloved man, wash his dark mop of hair for him, scratching and massaging, knowing that he will definitely return everything, as soon as he'd regain a little from complete relaxation.
leon will feel guilty if he doesn’t return the favor, so don’t expect that you will leave the bathroom until he washes you in return, his warm calloused palms covered with pinkish foam gently fidget over your soft body, gently massaging your shoulders and shamelessly going down to your tender breasts, squeezing and not hesitating to tease, running over your slightly erect and hard nipples, lightly squeezing them and rubbing them with his pads, making you let out a slight whine and jerk your legs, murmuring — «l-lee! mmh, n-not fair, i wanted you to relax!»
he just laughs, finding your words and desire to take care of him charming, as if it seems to you that he will fall apart if he overexerts himself, and how can he restrain himself when you are sitting between his legs so beautiful, with wet shiny skin, he can’t restrain himself while being next to you, always touching, kissing, and in the end it all ends in slow sex, but your desire is the law and he doesn’t want to upset you, so with a short kiss on the curve of your neck, he removes his hands from your body so that instead wash your hair, he can do at least something, right?
he knew that after the bath you would definitely go to bed where dusty pinkish bed linens, fluffy blankets and a couple of your plush toys would be waiting for him, a wide contrast to how his bedroom used to look, two pillows and some gray or blue sheets, but now everything smelled of comfort, as well as the soft notes of floral laundry conditioner, he loved what his life had become, he loved falling asleep and waking up in this bed with you, holding you close to him every night, like hugging a plush toy.
usually he sleeps buried in your chest or neck, the closer the better, happy when you lay in his arms as if curled up and he could snuggle closer to your warmth and scent, and be that as it may, his sleep next to you is like a baby’s, he wakes up much more relaxed and cheerful, he’s really damn grateful to you for embellishing his life, and, well, he can afford a little whim in honor of gratitude, right?
especially when you're lying there in one of your adorable nighties, the soft fabric flowing over your body, and underneath there's definitely an adorable pair of panties just for him, so you won't mind too much if he settles between your soft legs and pulls them down, maybe just pushes them away to the side, making sure to find the wet folds and twitching clit bud, letting your fingers bury themselves in his fluffy strands, as baby blues eyes look at you with a slight smile on his handsome face and he whispers softly, making you clench and gush around nothing — «let me take care of you, pretty girl? wanna thank you properly for all your care»
of course you agree, spreading your legs wider and letting him wrap his arms around them for comfort, briefly lifting up to kiss your lips and rosy cheeks, before delve in ‹𝟹
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adventuringblind · 1 year ago
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Mentor Them
Lando Norris x Reader X Carlos Sainz
Genre: Smut
summary: Carlos teaches his teammate some good bedroom skills. feelings come to light in the process.
Warnings: Smut, PinV, porn with plot, oral (m and f receiving), denial, overtimulation, Dom Carlos, Sub reader and Lando, bandage
Notes: You know who you are. You did this to me. I will not be speaking on the subject.
Masterlist
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Carlos has taken a liking to his younger teammate. He’s also taken an interest in said teammates relationship.
Lando, in the year and a half Carlos has known him, has kept the same girlfriend. But the thing that fascinates him is how oddly similar they are. The only difference is their energy. Lando is a bit more bouncy and chaotic, whereas she is soft-spoken and shy.
Carlos knows it’s weird. But he’s also not oblivious and incredibly intuitive. He notices the flustered laughs and blushes Lando gets when he’s around. He sees how the female looks at him until he catches her.
He knows both well. Wherever one is you can find the other not to far behind. It’s like they are each others safety blanket.
Is it bad he wants to absolutely ruin both of them? He tries not to think about it to much. They just look so soft together that he can’t help himself.
It’s after a race one afternoon that Carlos realizes he may have his fantasy fulfilled after all.
Lando came knocking on the door of his room in the McLaren motorhome. He was already blushing when Carlos let him inside. For the first time in a long time, there is no female in sight and Carlos thinks something bad may have happened.
“I need to ask you something and you’re not aloud to laugh at me.” The Brit says in an arguably strict tone.
“Anything. I won’t laugh.”
“I need help with, uh, bedroom stuff.” He looks down in shame ad Carlos is quick to stand up and lift Lando’s gaze to meet his.
“There is no shame is asking about that.”
Lando looks like he might go into shock but he manages a simple “Okay.”
~
Carlos goes over everything him and Lando had talked about on his way to their room. The two are trying to experiment but have no idea where to start.
Is he taking advantage of the situation? Probably. But for right now he’s just going to let himself enjoy it. Teach them a few things. Maybe even make a mess of them both in the process.
The one thing he’s mildly concerned about is the female. lando had made it clear that he doesn’t care what happens, but she has a tendency to not speak up if she doesn’t like things because she’s afraid of disappointing. It doesn’t help that she is shy and even struggles talking to Carlos despite having known him for awhile now.
Lando also mentioned her ability to not make any sounds during sex like her life depends on it. Her entire body could be spasming and she could still be silent. Another habit he’s hoping to break tonight.
He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.
~
She has no idea what to expect. Lando and her had been thinking about this for some time now, inviting Carlos to join them. She just wasn’t sure what the whole ‘experimenting’ excuse is about. Her and Lando have done plenty of that!
Dynamics are a little funky a times because they’ve both had to learn to be switch’s. They fumbled for a bit, but she thought they’d done plenty of that and that their sexual health is fantastic.
Then he explained that he kind of fibbed because this counts as experimenting, technically speaking. He also said that Carlos didn’t hesitate to say yes and got excited at the proposal. It makes her wonder if Carlos has also thought about them in this way.
Lando sits next to her on the bed. His arms wrapped around her and his head in the crook of her neck. “remember Carlos doesn’t know how to read you like I do. You’ll have to communicate verbally with him.” She just hums. She doesn’t know why she does it, her voice just leaves during sex and it’s so hard for her to speak. “For me, please?”
“I will, for you.”
They don’t get to continue their conversation as they hear a knock at the door. Lando bounds to go and greet their guest and she curls herself into the corner of the bed. Just her and her breaths for a minute.
The curious sound of something hitting the wall fills her ears. Then follows the wet sound of sloppy kisses and a few moans. Finally they come into view and she can see Carlos smothering Lando in a full mouth kiss. She even thinks she can see the swipe of their tongues every now and then.
When Carlos pulls away, he looks between them with hunger. “Why do I feel like you two actually know exactly what you’re doing?”
“Cause I sorta kinda fibbed.”
“I can tell by the way you let me shove my tongue down your throat with ease.”
Lando blushes at the statement. ‘Oops.”
Carlos sits on the end of the bed and swings himself around to face the female. He motions for Lando to join and a small smirk tugs at his lips when he obeys.
“Complete transparency: I have thought about this for awhile now.”
She exchanges a look with the Brit. Turns out he has been thinking about them as well. “So have we.”
“So the experimenting?”
“Technically this is experimenting.”
Carlos just shakes his head. “You could’ve just asked and I would’ve said yes.”
The girl uncurls from herself just a bit. “It’s hard to do when you have a crush on the person you’re asking.” The smile on Carlos’ face is unreal. He looks ecstatic and it makes her feel fuzzy on the inside. “We were going to ask if you wanted to try things with us. Like, in a romantic sense.”
Her and Lando look at him expectantly. The Spaniards smile seems to grow even more. “Yeah, I think I would like to try that. But I have one condition.”
“And what would that be?” Lando’s tone is a bit snarky but she knows what he’s doing. He has a tendency to rile people up quickly. Namely her. In a sexual way.
“I want to take you both apart tonight.”
The stunned silence that falls between them is ridiculous. the fact that she’s not sure what he means by that and the idea of watching that happened seems very appealing. She does not register, however, that Carlos said both of them. She’d already settled for mostly watching the two of them go at it. Not to much involvement on her end.
There are no words exchanged. Just Lando staring at the Spaniard as if waiting for his doom. Not a bad way to go out really.
And just as suspected, when there is even an inkling of confirmation, Carlos is once again choking his tongue down Lando’s throat. The two of them clamber back onto the bed with nothing but clumsy chaos.
The female curls into herself further. She watches in awe. The same feeling of losing her voice during intimate moments comes crashing over her, and she has no clue what she should do.
If she's honest with herself, she would be perfectly content just watching. She lets her mind wander to the future and what their life might look like together. If people found out what they might say.
She doesn't realize she's been spacing out until Lando is calling her name. She must have been gone a while because he and Carlos are both missing their shirts.
She feels clueless.
Carlos, in all of his beauty, gently grabs under her knees and slides her almost fully underneath him.
The hungry stare makes her squeak. It's nothing like she's ever seen before. Lando is usually needy and whiny, but this is nothing but pure untamed lust.
He hovers over her. Hands moving to pin her wrists to the mattress beneath her. He studies her. His eyes move down her body as if calculating how to best attack.
She's panting heavily. A pause. A calm before the storm.
Then something in him snaps.
His belt is off in seconds. Carlos finds Lando's wrists and uses his belt as some sort of makeshift rope. One that he won't be getting out of on his own. Lando won't be doing much touching if his hands are stuck behind him, and she wonders what Carlos is planning.
Carlos is half straddling her now. The other hand of him towering Lando. His hands gripping messy curls. "You said you can't get her to make noise? If that's the case, I feel that you haven't been doing it right." He grabs Lando's chin and directs his haze at her. "You've had such a beautiful girl, compliant even, and you haven't made her cum so hard she's praying your name?"
Carlos clicks his tongue. He strips Lando of the rest of his clothes. Completely bare. Unless you count the belt, keeping his hands from really doing anything.
"We're using colors for safe words. Are you both familiar?" She shakes her head yes in confirmation, and Lando gives a verbal answer. "I need words, princesa."
How is she ever going to get through tonight if he calls her things like that? She breathes and attempts to make her paralyzed vocal chords work. "Yeah..." it's barely even a whisper, but Carlos looks so pleased with himself.
The Spaniard maneuvers Lando back onto the bed on his knees. He grabs his jaw again and looks so stern that she thinks he might actually be upset. "You are not going to finish until you pull a noise out of her. Do you understand?"
A slurred "Yes sir" stumbles out of the Brits mouth. Then Carlos is back over her body. He tugs at the bottom of her shirt. The outer layers are shed so easily. She's not self-consciousness, even quite confident with how Lando compliments her every opportunity he gets. Yet Carlos' hungry eyes make her want to shield herself.
It's overwhelming, a good overwhelming, but still overwhelming.
"Don't hide away from me now. If you do that, I can't teach Lando how to pleasure such a good girl."
Is it possible for a human to melt? Because she is most definitely melting. Putty to be molded as the Spaniard pleases.
He works off her bra with skilled fingers. She goes again to try and close up but Carlos is quick to catch her and pin her hands.
He kisses her neck, her lips, her shoulders, the center of her chest. It's such a contrast to the roughness she saw with Lando. He's being slow and taking his time with her. Lando looks like he is enjoying being punished to an extent (he's always been a bit of a brat for her).
She sucks in a breath when Carlos' tongue and teeth find her nipples. He goes back and forth between both of them. Her breathing is heavier than it was before. More labored from the stimulation.
Still no noise.
He captures her lips again and then trails his lips all the way to the last piece of clothing she has on. Her body shivers in anticapation. He tugs at the elastic and makes eye contact with her. "Can I take these off?"
The nodding her head in response isn't going to work, and she knows that. She steels herself and forces her voice to work even if it's small. "Please." A blink, and you'll miss it type of whisper, but he hears her.
He drags them off. Hands running across her body in an almost desperate motion. He pries her legs apart easily. You'd think she was weightless. Another confidence booster since she's got a 'not a supermodel' kind of body. In her opinion, at least.
Carlos goes back to kissing her. Now, adding small bites as he goes. He's teasing the area around where she would like him to be. Again, not complaining, simply enjoying what he's giving.
He pulls away, and she huffs. He looks satisfied with it. "Maybe if you begged for it, I would keep going." He smirks. Her eyes widen in the realization that he wants to get her as vocal as possible. Not just for Lando, but for himself also.
Carlos manhandles Lando in between her legs. She can feel his warm breath clinging to her body in all the right places.
"Do you want me to just sit here or...?"
A flash of movement and a small amount of force appear out of thin air. Lando's tongue is everywhere she jeeds it to be. Carlos passes her a curious look. "Is he always like this." She shakes her head yes. If only he knew the half of it.
"Remember amour." He whispers into Lando's ear. "You pull a noise out of her, and you can finish." Then he looks at her. Gentle eyes but stern voice. "And you can finish if you want, but do not make a sound if it isn't real. Let him be desperate and learn from this."
And oh how desperate he would become.
Carlos doesn't make it any easier on him. She knew it was going to be torcher for the Brit when Carlos asked if there was lube in close proximity, and the answer was yes.
Hands are everywhere. Touching, feeling, grabbing, spreading. Her nerves are on fire from all the stimulation. Lando whining into her core and Carlos continually shoving the Brit further into her is making her feel all sorts of ways.
Her body spasms without warning. The deep sated pleasure hit her in a wave.
Silence. A little labored breathing. But still no noises pulled from her.
Carlos halts all movment. Lando cries from having no physical contact. Limbs flail like a child whose mother said no to ice cream.
"I guess we'll have to try something different, huh Landito." How Carlos can move people around so effortlessly is beyond her. The positions are reversed now. Though she is sitting more comfortably since she has her hands.
Carlos takes the courtesy of letting his hands free. The Brit immediately runs his hands all over both of them.
Carlos pulls her body into his back. Fingers caress her sides, then grabs her hair. He pulls hard enough so that she can look at him, albeit upside down in a way.
He places a chaste kiss to her nose, causing her to smile a bit. "I want to hear the words. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me you want to be a good girl for me."
It comes so naturally this time. Like begging for him is her first language. It's the only thing she knows. It falls from her lips in the form of a prayer, and Carlos looks satisfied with her for it.
Something happens when he slams into her without warning. Her hands grip onto Lando's thighs, and her mouth falls open.
Something between a shreik and a moan leaves her, and it's shocking. Carlos doesn't stop, but he's reveling in it. "See princesa, you sound so fucking beautiful. Moan for me more. Whine for me with Lando in your throat."
And so she did. Like she found her voice despite it never really being gone. Carlos had unlocked something in her mind that let her get past the mental block.
Lando looks like he might cum just to the sound of her. It's his favorite song on repeat, and every noise makes his eyes roll back further.
Praise. Both are praising her. It only makes her do it more. Her mind is so far gone that it's possible she'll never recover. Lando has gotten her here before, but never this far.
They are both gone. Deep into the glassy eyes and fuzzy headspaces that she doesn't care what happens next.
She's choking off Lando's length, but she can't be bothered to care. His hands fist her hair as he slams his hips into her face. His breathing is labored and mouth open. His words are swimming in her ears as are Carlos'.
She fell over a while ago. She's been over the edge for an insane amount of time. Lando spilling down into her throat only pulls her deeper into it.
Carlos is getting sloppy with his relentless thrusts. She feels him stutter and pulse onside of her. His angle hitting her where she wants it.
That small voice in the back of her head is glad Carlos was responsible and put on protection. He doesn't pull out until he's done.
They are all sweaty, but it doesn't matter. She finds herself in Lando's lap. He's buried in her. His hands are tracing the sensitive lines he knows so well. She reciprocated the gentle affection.
Carlos has complete control of the situation. He lays wet kisses to every area of skin he can get to. He praises and degrades in all the correct ways. Guides them through every action. Lando pulling ever sound he'd been longing to hear for over a year from the depths of her soul.
It's bliss. They'd been at it so long that she couldn't control her own body anymore. Gone are coherent thoughts.
Carlos stops them. Gently slowing both down with his hands as guides. "You're both such beautiful creatures."
They fall into a heap. Her and Lando can barely move and settle for holding hands and staring. Sleep because the best idea she has ever had. Her eyes droop.
"No sleep yet. Don't want you getting sick or subdropping on me." Carlos chuckles as he presses cold rags to their skin. "I would have you bathe, but I don't think that would I can manage you both in there."
"Thank you, Carlos, really." Mumbles Lando.
"I should be thanking you two. I've wanted this for so long. It's hard to believe it took us this long." Carlos runs a hand through his hair. "Tommorow I'm taking you two out for a real date."
"I think I speak for both of us when I say that we would love that."
"I seconds that." She mumbles before throwing herself over the boys in a head of bodies and comfort.
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naffeclipse · 10 months ago
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I've been musing over a few thoughts inspired by this ask about a mafia-ish style of Apex Polarity without it being too close to Pearl Eye, and after watching a few videos of Orcas hunting their prey (which included dolphins), landed on a sort of Mafia inspired Apex Polarity AU
Also not to add another Y/N to Orclipse's growing collection but this Y/N is a white-beaked dolphin. Look! They're so beautiful!
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Sirens are cunning, brutal, and take everything with teeth and claws. The strongest kill and maim at a whim. As a siren who's not particularly strong, though incredibly agile, with a tail streamlined and dark gray with white patches, fins curved and mostly black, you're somewhere at the bottom. You're doing your best to survive and avoid trouble. You pick your battles and you pick your escapes, and most importantly, you stay alive.
But then you do something really stupid: you venture where you shouldn't have.
You don't usually swim so far up north but you're hungry, and the thought of a few tasty squids distracts you from the silent waters and vast, blue emptiness. You realize a bit too late that you're not the only one hunting.
You catch the first orca siren in the distance as a dark figure, and then another. Two who immediately cut through the water, charging straight for you like shadows. Though you turn tail and bolt, you quickly spot them in the corner of your vision. They easily keep pace, their size and strength overwhelming as they flank you on both sides, wide grins flashing their deadly teeth. You can hardly look at the mismatched color of their eyes as you dodge and weave, diving down only to be cut off by one with midnight blue colors at the tip of his flukes, and shooting off to the left just to almost be snatched by the black-bone claws of a siren with bright yellow fins framing his head.
They're toying with you. You know that for a fact in how they just barely keep back, corraling you onwards, draining your already spent energy, and picking at your panicking pulse. You have no choice but to avoid the edges of their jaws and the tips of their talons, and swim in the direction they want.
You near a field of ice floes floating on the water, and though you cut into the jagged structures dipping into the sea, the orca sirens never lose you. A desperate need for air pushes you onward. One small drop of hope still burns in your chest. Despite the aching of your muscles, you steal a gulp of oxygen and dip back down once more, charging away—
Only to run smack into a third orca siren.
This one grabs you, his burning red and orange colors filling your vision. The other two orcas join to help their kin keep you in place long enough for you to truly regret ever venturing here. Between the three of what you can only assume are brothers, hands hooked over you shoulders, claws clutching your wrists, and palms pressing into your hips, you're a fish caught in a net.
You brace for a voilent end. It never arrives. Instead of digging into your sweet meat, the sirens offer you a deal. The tips of sharp fingertips trace your jawline and the soft inside of your arms and down your slick tail while they explain.
You keep watch for human ships and report back when they're getting close, and in exchange, you get the best food you can imagine, the entire Arctic Ocean to swim, and anything else you'd like. The best benefit? You're under their protection. Of course, they expect utter loyalty from you. You are no one else's. Failure to devote yourself to this work and the brothers would mean a grisly fate, but hey, you're nothing if not eager to not be torn apart. So you agree.
You have a few questions about this whole arrangement, struggling to understand why they, powerful orca sirens, bother with a smaller fish like you when they could rip you limb from limb and be done. What's with the human ships? Why task you to this? Are you just fodder so they can keep their fins nice and unscabbed? They reassure you that they'll explain in due time (the sunny one booping your nose, much to your chagrin), but for now, all you know to know is that the human ships are a problem, and you are their solution for it. You've never really encountered humans before, but they've never really encountered sirens, or so you thought.
The burning red one lets you go, but you don't slip away too far before he tugs on your flukes and tells you to follow him. It's not a request. The darker blue one leaves for a moment, jetting away as the other two guide you to a nice resting place on an icy shore. They introduce themselves, and then their brother reappears with a squid in hand, half dead, and an insistence that you eat—they could tell during the chase that you didn't have all your energy.
And that's how you unwittingly join a very powerful pod of orca brothers who may or may not be teasing and taunting you simultaneously.
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stevie-petey · 1 year ago
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episode four: the body
For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.  “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.  His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.  “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”
summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.
rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.
warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.
words: 8k
before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!
-
It’s a quiet morning.
You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet. 
Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm. 
Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked. 
Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10. 
“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met. 
You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever. 
Then it all comes rushing back to you. 
Will’s body in the quarry. 
Holding your brother as he mourned his friend. 
El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal. 
Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated. 
Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before. 
The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second. 
Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you. 
You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening. 
He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating. 
You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown. 
Where the hell did the kid run off to?
An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.
Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.
Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations. 
He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help. 
You both just know. 
About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks. 
“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”
“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”
“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”
His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger. 
“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”
“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine. 
“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel. 
You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will. 
You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do. 
The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around. 
Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt. 
You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important. 
Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast. 
Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse. 
There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence. 
He’s gone. 
– 
You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality. 
Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know. 
“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.
You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later. 
The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”
This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”
“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”
Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner? 
“So who did the autopsy?” 
“Someone from State.” 
Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd. 
“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response. 
In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…
Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce. 
You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways. 
Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough. 
After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything. 
“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”
“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods. 
“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”
“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh. 
“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.” 
“Anytime, bee.” 
Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak. 
It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day. 
You’re in love with Jonathan. 
Fuck.
It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about. 
You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time. 
You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings. 
Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside. 
“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her. 
You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well. 
As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat. 
“Do you love him?”
You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”
Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”
It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”
“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do. 
You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can. 
In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man. 
You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce. 
– 
The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car. 
You sigh. 
This day definitely sucks. 
Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well? 
When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-” 
He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom. 
“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice. 
Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes. 
You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place. 
“Mom, stop!” 
“Just go home, Jonathan.”
“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”
“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.
But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that. 
“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.
The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache. 
As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them. 
“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!” 
Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you. 
You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though. 
“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!” 
Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves. 
It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.
But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive. 
He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes. 
So really, what is there to believe?
Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive. 
As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive. 
As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn. 
Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”
“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.” 
“But-” 
“In.”
He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.
Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan. 
The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.
You love Jonathan. 
Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him. 
He needs his best friend right now.
Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?” 
You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”
“Our… our fight, I guess.” 
“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.” 
Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone. 
“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.” 
“I said a lot yesterday-” 
Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”
You purse your lips but remain silent. 
“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”
A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”
“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.” 
“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”
“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”
His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments. 
Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him. 
Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”
“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”
“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?” 
“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless. 
“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?” 
He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.” 
“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand. 
“Ow! What was that for?”
You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”
And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start. 
“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile. 
You’ll take whatever you can get.
– 
You spot Nancy before Jonathan does. 
It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place. 
She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious. 
You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her. 
Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”
“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.” 
“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.
It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place. 
Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.” 
“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.” 
The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.” 
You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”
“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”
The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend. 
Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El. 
You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong. 
“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says. 
“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway. 
“Maybe she did run away-” 
Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”
Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”
“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”
Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons. 
He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom. 
You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…
Well shit. 
“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”
You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.” 
Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-” 
“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore. 
“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”
“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.
“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”
“Y/N-”
“Jonathan, we need to go.” 
“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.
You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”
“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.
“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.” 
He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.” 
You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening. 
“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?” 
I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think. 
Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not. 
He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”
You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers. 
God you hope you’re just a regular idiot. 
However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure. 
You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”
You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.
“I call shotgun, Nancy!”
– 
Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start. 
It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy. 
Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth. 
You’re jealous because you’re in love with him. 
It’s a nauseating feeling. 
“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place. 
“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.” 
“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is. 
“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.” 
Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?” 
“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?” 
Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.” 
“And then-” 
“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you. 
“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.” 
“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking. 
You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.” 
Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is. 
Your smile vanishes. 
He wants to impress her. 
“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama. 
Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for. 
You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”
The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.” 
Can I?
Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about. 
“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“And I’ll answer… probably.” 
“You’re so sweet to me.”
“I know, right?” 
You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away. 
It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him. 
Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now. 
– 
For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. 
“Henderson!”
“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. 
His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. 
“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?” 
You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”
“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him. 
You hate him. You really do.
A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”
Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.” 
You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”
“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…” 
“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”
You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan. 
Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window. 
“Hello again, Henderson.” 
“I never said hello back to you.” 
“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”
You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.” 
Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.” 
You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly. 
“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”
Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.
“What?”
He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”
You stare at him, speechless. 
He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.” 
You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-
You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince. 
Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty. 
Fuck Steve Harrington. 
The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.” 
“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words. 
Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”
The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far. 
“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?” 
“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.” 
You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”
“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”
“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”
“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”
“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused. 
Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”
“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”
“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.” 
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.
“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”
“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”
He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”
Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.” 
He had willingly tried to make you laugh?
His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”
“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by. 
You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?
Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.  
And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers… 
Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. 
You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh. 
“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.” 
He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”
The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.” 
Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”
“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”
The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety. 
When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate. 
“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down. 
“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans. 
As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.” 
He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”
His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for. 
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.” 
He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.” 
You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.
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