#and it doesn’t matter what I think or feel anyway since I have nothing else going for me that doesn’t involve you
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#dealing with one hell of an anxiety attack right now#part of me is angry like I got stuck apologizing and trying to calm you down rather than actually getting my feelings out and processing#because I’m just so scared to lose you that I can’t do anything that could further jeopardize our friendship#so it’s easier to just overly apologize and try to salvage things than it is to say what I really want to#and now I’m stuck just trying to put myself back together and pretend like everything else is fine#and it doesn’t matter what I think or feel anyway since I have nothing else going for me that doesn’t involve you#I just have a lot of words built up that I really wish I could scream right now but I can’t#and I’m reminded of a line from a poem I wrote once before#I’d be perfect for you Be anything you wanted me to But I can’t#so I’m just going to put on my sad music and sit inside the pain and feel it fully and process it#and I’ll come out better for it on the other side or at least I have to tell myself that#probably this will just fuck me up even more but whatever#I’m just tired of everything being a lesson#you show your pain like it really hurts and I can’t even start to feel mine#I just want someone to genuinely like me and be available to me and I don’t know why that’s so much to ask for#and it’s really starting to feel like everything is a dead end#even our friendship feels like it can only end one way most of the time#but I have to dig my nails in and hold on for all I can get because what other choice do I have#this really fucking hurts but I have to go through it#hopefully it’ll make me stronger later#personal
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jealous finnick?
jealous finnick will be the death of me!!!!!!
finnick odair x fem!reader
Breakfast in District 13 is an unusual affair. Nothing like you’re used to, being from District 4. It’s the same every morning — boring grey oatmeal with either honey or berries, depending on the day. It’s only as you take your seat next to Finnick that you realise you’ve forgotten the very crucial toppings.
“Oh no, I forgot to get berries,” you bemoan. They’re definitely all gone by now, seeing as they’re in popular demand — the oatmeal served in 13 tastes like cardboard without them.
“Here, have mine,” Gale says from across the table. You open your mouth to protest but he’s already spooning a big heap of berries into your bowl. They bleed red and purple into your otherwise plain oatmeal. “I don’t like ‘em, anyway. Too sour.”
“Oh.” You smile at him, flattered. Gale’s been nothing but kind to you since you arrived in District 13. You haven’t put it down to anything other than friendliness. Though it’s possible you’re too enamoured with the blonde next to you that you’re completely oblivious to other men’s advances. “Thanks, Gale.”
Gales smiles back and shrugs. “No problem, Y/N.”
Next to you and unbeknownst to you, Finnick scowls. He hates that Gale’s so nice to you. Loathes it. He knows it’s because you’re a ray of sunshine who draws even the coldest of people in (believe him, he’s experienced it), but the fact that Gale gave you his berries before Finnick could even offer his makes his blood boil. 
Who does he think he is? Everyone knows you’re Finnick’s girl, he’s made it very clear. It’s the whole reason you’re here, after all — Finnick specifically requested you be picked up from home before the Quarter Quell ended, to prevent anything from happening to you.
Breakfast passes without further incident. If you notice Finnick’s sour mood, you don’t mention it. You’re leaving the canteen with everyone else when Finnick grabs your waist and pulls you to the side, into an empty hallway. He peers over your shoulder to make sure Gale’s good and gone, watching the back of his head with a glare that could kill, before turning his attention to you.
“Finnick,” you say, clearly confused at his sudden manhandling. “What’s the matter with you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Finnick says shortly.
“You look mad.”
“I’m not.”
You squint at him. “You’re definitely mad. Why are you—?”
Finnick forgoes restraint and yanks you forward, pressing his mouth to yours before you can say anything else. His chest burns with molten hot jealousy, it climbs up his throat and pours into the kiss, hot and sticky. The heat ebbs though, when you kiss him back just as fervently, replaced by a fuzzy warmth only you can make him feel. It buzzes in his chest and down his arms, flares out his palm as he takes your face into one hot hand.
He pulls back just as suddenly as he’d drawn in. “You know Gale’s flirting with you, right?” He says abruptly, thumb pressed to your cheekbone.
You blink up at him, still dazed from his kissing. “What?” You ask, half laughing. “No, he’s not.”
“He is. He gave you his berries. I was going to give you mine.”
You raise both eyebrows. “He was just being nice to me.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my job.”
Finnick supposes he sounds quite pathetic. He doesn’t really care, not when your eyes go all gooey and you reach up on your tiptoes to push a curl from his forehead.
“Are you jealous?” You ask him softly, tucking his hair behind his ear. Your breath fans over his mouth and your hand lingers at his throat. “You sound jealous.”
Finnick rolls his eyes. “So what if I am? Just— have mine next time, okay?”
You smile at him, pretty as starlight. “Okay. But you don’t have to be jealous, you know? I only want you.”
Woah, Finnick thinks. “I know,” he says, too quick, his voice a notch too high.
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Do you though?” You ask, definitely teasing now. He supposes he got off lucky, you could’ve done much worse finding out he’s so sickeningly jealous over Gale, of all people.
Still, Finnick narrows his eyes at you. “Alright, that’s enough.”
Your answering giggle is smothered as Finnick swoops in to kiss you again.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
#★ mal writes!#finnick odair#finnick odair blurb#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x fem!reader#finnick odair imagines#finnick odair fic#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair drabbles#finnick odair headcanons#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair drabble#finnick odair fanfiction#finnick odair fluff#finnick x reader#thg finnick#thg x reader#thg#thg finnick x reader#thg finnick x you#thg x you#thg series#the hunger games#the hunger games x reader#hunger games#hunger games x reader#hunger games x you#hunger games fanfiction
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tags. fem!reader, the overused 'i know we're supposed to be fwb but i fell in love with you anyway' trope, confessions, gojo mentally spiraling during sex over how much he's in love with you because that's a very him thing to do [18+ only]
Gojo can’t tear his eyes off you as you move above him—riding his cock like this would be the last time you’d ever feel it inside you. That thought twists his insides, his fingers digging into your hips as if you might float away before he ever really had a chance to voice the words he’s been too scared to say.
But he couldn’t really stop you if you wanted to leave—that’s how the groundwork of uncomplicated arrangements like these work, at least in the beginning. He likes to think that a lot has changed since that night in your living room between two drunk, lonely people with nothing to lose aside from your torn underwear in his haste to get them down your soft legs and an old condom tucked away in his wallet.
The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.
It doesn’t dampen how much he wants to mold the shape of his cock inside your tight little cunt, to ruin you for anyone else who thought they even had a chance, to have his name be the first thing you think of when you cum. He wants to make every part of you his, and he only hopes you want the same thing, too.
He groans at the thought, gripping you tight to slam his hips up into you. “Tell me who’s fucking you so good. Tell me who’s the only one that gets to make you cum.”
“You, Toru!” you sob, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself from falling against his chest. It has his balls drawing up tight, and he sucks in a breath to stop this from being over too soon.
“That’s right, pretty girl,” he grunts. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. I’m the only one who gets to feel this sweet princess cunt.” He leans up to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, groaning when he feels you clench down around him.
“I-I’m gonna cum,” you choke out.
“Yeah?” His fingers circle over your clit as he shoves his cock deeper inside of you to take you there faster, nipping at the swell of your breast. “Fuck, give it to me, baby. Lemme feel it.”
His name is soft and sweet on your tongue as you cum, squeezing around him until his eyes roll back from how good it feels. It has him following after you, grinding his cock as far as it can go while he pulses and fills you to the brim. There’s so much that he feels it leak out of your little hole and drip down his balls to pool in an uncomfortable wet puddle forming beneath him.
He rolls away from the mess when you both catch your breath, his softening cock still tucked away between your wet thighs. You stroke his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp, and he buries his face into your chest, words weighing heavy in his chest.
Maybe he should cut the bullshit already, say what he wants to say, and get let down easy while he still has a chance to recover from rejection—
“Sleep with me?” he asks, voice muffled and a shade of red high on his cheeks.
You giggle, lightly tugging on his hair. “I probably need at least—”
“No,” he cuts you off nervously, heat rising to his ears. “No sex. Just to sleep…here. With me?”
When you don’t say anything right away, he wonders if there’s any way he can take back his words and whether you’d believe him if he told you it was all a joke. But then you tug the blanket over both of you, tucking the corners in so the air from the ceiling fan doesn’t reach your cooling skin, and continue running your fingers through his hair.
There’s a warmth in his chest, which he thinks might be what love feels like.
After a moment, you say, “If you steal the blankets, I’m kicking you off the bed.”
Gojo snorts, smiling against your breast. “But it’s my bed.”
You hum. “Yes, and I’ll do it anyway.”
“Just so we’re clear, I’m still going to fuck you later.”
“Go to sleep, Satoru.” He can’t see it but knows you’re smiling, too.
Masterlist
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#gojo imagine#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fic#jjk x you#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#.things i write
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⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … SLIM PICKINS ♡
track nine of the short n’sweet series. pairing: bountyhunter!rafe x reader. based loosely on the song slim pickins by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა
maybe you were just understimulated and bored. maybe you kind of liked when he got jealous.
you sit at his side on a bench outside the motel room for a while when you bring it up. he’s stiff, got you pinned to his side with an arm around you like someone forced him to do it. you figured he was trying to bond, show affection — but still had that little fear you’d just up and run off. the two of you stare out over the desert and a horse whinnies in the distance.
“y’know i had a boyfriend ‘fore you stole me.” you tell him quietly. you try not to sound accusatory, voice quiet enough to do so but his nose twitches to turn up anyway.
“you…what?”
“on the barn. where i lived.” you begin, treading carefully and he turns to glance at you, curious. “he lived in the farmhouse the other side of the land. my age. we knew eachother since we were little, used to play on the tire swing in my garden. only recently he became my boyfriend.” you reminisce and rafes spine tingles and his neck feels a little hotter at the way there’s still a tinge of sadness to your voice after all this time of travelling with him. nothing was ever enough for you.
however, he’s got nothing else to do and he’s curious.
“yeah? what’s this boyfriend of yours like then?” he drawls, clearly unimpressed but you seem unshaken. rafe had talked to you in crueller ways before.
“brown hair… brown eyes. he was really generous, would do anything for my family. sometimes he played it a little safe i mean, he waited so long to even ask to kiss me but… he was sweet. i miss when men were sweet.”
“i can be sweet. i’m so damn good to you.” rafe blurts out, and you nearly laugh because of how irritated he sounds in contrast.
“you kidnapped me.”
“ugh— right, ‘cus— ‘cus it’s always my fault right? you know my dad made me— whatever.” he steams off into a lecture and you relax at his side, unbothered. it almost bothered him more that you didn’t react to his explosiveness anymore, especially at a moment like this. you were still thinking of him.
he sighs, petulantly and sits back in his seat too, rubbing beneath his nose, legs spread casually as he thinks. you figure that would be that, and you knew not to poke the bear. surprisingly, after a minute — rafe speaks again.
“if you could… if you could go back n’be on that barn where i took you from… would you… would you be there, with him?” he gets bashful and snappy, enunciating with a flat hand extended. rafe always talked with his hands and you found it interesting.
truly, you don’t know. to pose such a complex question after all the time you’d spent together made that line appear between your brows. he doesn’t have to look at you to feel you shrug.
several hours later and he’s got your face in a pillow, ass in the air. no matter what kind of day the two of you had, what kind of conversations bestowed upon you — if rafe needed to get his dick wet, that was exactly what would happen. he’s basically in your guts, and you’re sobbing so loud as your walls spasm around him that you’re sure the motel would receive noise complaints.
a coarse hand slides up your spine and grips the back of your neck as he pounds you before he slots around to the front to hold your throat off the bed, bicep bulging at the position. he talks, and it takes you a second to digest it. you’re not used to conversation out of dirty talk.
“did he ever make you feel good like this? that— that boyfriend of yours?” he grits his teeth. you shake your head, mouth too occupied with forming an ‘o’ shape as he hits a new spot and he lightly smacks your cheek. just hard enough to regain your attention. “yeah you better use those words—”
“no! no— he didn’t.” you pant like a puppy, a string of drool still attached to the pillow from your lip.
“uh huh. yeah i fuckin’ bet.” he chases you up the bed a little when you arch away, too sensitive and holds you down, continuing to rough house your sore pussy. “might’ve been good to you but he wouldn’t fuck you like this huh? wouldn’t make you cum this god damn hard.”
you respond something, but by this point it’s muffled — head dropped into the pillow suffocating all sound. gripping the hair at the back of your head, he yanks your head up and licks his lips, determined to hear you. “nah, speak.”
“too— mmph—”
“yeah?”
“too nice! he was too nice!” you wail, walls fluttering and he huffs out a smirked chuckle, jaw clenching as he uses you like a sex toy.
“mm. that’s uh, that’s real fucked up baby. just needed a big mean man to get you right, huh?”
rafe was fucked up, but he wasn’t often wrong.
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LOVE AND DEEPSPACE NSFW THINK PIECE/DRABBLE
I’m depraved
Rafayel is the neediest. He’s got a lot of insecurities/abandonment issues from his first love and he def has an anxious attachment style. He’s also absolutely the type of person to be codependent (Hello?? “Join me let’s drown in the ocean together”????? Like, come on). He’s constantly trying to do every little thing with you, almost like he can’t breathe unless it’s air that’s already been filtered through your lungs.
However, all big baby behavior™️ considered, he definitely knows how to woo you. I feel like since he’s Lemurian and also an artist, he only knows how to love a person in the most deeply devoted and romantic way. He’s also very careful with his heart and who he gives it to, once he decides it’s truly and solely yours that’s it. There’s no one else. But you also have to honor that with proper care, he’s very sensitive.
Anyway, I feel like he fucks in a way that’s slow, very sensual. The kind of love making where he takes over all of your senses, all you can feel is his touch, all you can smell is his sweat and cologne, all you can taste is him on your tongue, and all you can see and hear are his face and the sweet words of devotion he whimpers in your ear.
He’s also very easy to rile up.
Zayne is boring to me. Like I get the appeal he’s very hot and he’s also very stable (in a romantic sense) and healthy but I just can’t fantasize about that. Like yeah he’s a busy ass surgeon who will always make time for you no matter what and he’s super devoted and always caring for you in little ways, but also mf will make you take a water break during sex if you’re too wet bc he doesn’t want you to get dehydrated. Im done.
Honestly I think I’m biased against him bc the way he talks to MC just reminds me of this horrid man I met at a bus stop once who immediately started trying to tell me what to do/give me life advice. I get Zayne is qualified and the guy at the bus stop was not but idc if y’all want me to put effort into writing for him ur gonna have to submit it into the requests baby, moving on.
SYLUS. I feel like everybody thinks he’s just some big ol’ nasty freak but they’re WRONG. THEYRE WRONG ABOUT HIM.
Don’t get me wrong he’s definitely fucking tweaking when you first meet him, like just going apeshit off the bat with no context for us. But also? Once you get to know him? Bitch I’ll kill for that man you do not know. This mf drops everything for you.
Important arms deal he’s been trying to set up for a year or going to the arcade with you to get plushies out of a claw machine? Deal = cancelled
The fearless leader of the N109 zone who blows up anyone who perturbs him slightly. MF contributes 50% of the carbon in the atmosphere alone with the amount of shit he literally actually blows up with bombs. But you? You may break into his house and handcuff him to his bed in his sleep while trying to steal a brooch off of him. he doesn’t give a fuck. he’s in love with you. Set his house on fire! He won’t care! He’ll just buy a new one!
As rough as he is around the edges he’s completely smitten. “You should know I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.” Like girl don’t fucking play with me. Is he mentally ill? Absolutely. But he is so devoted, so careful with you. “I’m never annoyed when we do things together.” It’s literally like he’s learning how to be a human being for once and he doesn’t care about losing the coldness or sharpness he once had because you’re more than enough to replace any absence the loss of those thing may bring. He knows he’s getting soft and doesn’t care. He doesn’t try to stop it. To kill for you is nothing to him. Not even a second thought. He kills all the time. But he would never harm again if the violence ever came in between you two.
And I think that dedication, that devotion totally translates itself into how he makes love to you. He’s definitely a filthy talker, I think he says some NASTY shit during sex, just because he likes seeing you squirm and feel how your skin gets hot from his words. But I don’t think he likes hurting you. He wouldn’t do anything to harm you. He’ll spank you yeah, and he’ll tap or squish your cheeks to get your attention. But he only wants to bring you pure, carnal pleasure when it comes to sex. If you even think “that feels good” he’s like a dog with a bone. You get no rest when he’s there you only get mind-numbing pleasure. He’s a tease, he’ll poke lighthearted fun at how loud you’re being, ask you who you think can hear you two while you’re being nasty. But he knows you. He knows what you love, what gets you off, and he cares to learn all of this because of how much he loves you God I’m SICK
Xavier is filthy. That man laps up your pussy like a thirsty dog. The freakiest nastiest mf out of all of them. He won’t show any sexual prowess or interest for months I think. I’m not sure he’s even aware of his powers. Your relationship will literally be based around his chaotic sleeping “schedule” (that shit is not a schedule) and relaxing between missions together. All things considered, you guys spend almost every waking (and sleeping) hour together. Work, dates, naps, eating, it’s almost always together.
It’s not until he hears you getting hit on all night that his composure finally starts to crack.
Three months of the sweetest, purest boyfriend you could ever ask for. Your sweet silly boy, who starts silently pouting all night. It’s not until you two finally find a hotel to stay at for the night, that he finally starts loosening up.
“I’m not a young fool, you know. I don’t take what’s in front of me for granted” he quotes the guys hitting on you earlier, which he heard through your ear piece. Then he recites every time another guy hit on you while you two were on your mission. He’s a jealous jealous jealous boy. He HATES other guys vying for your attention. It just makes him want to whisk you away and bounce you on his dick so loud that every other guy can hear it. When he feels jealousy, he feels the need to mark, claim, devour you so no one else can try and steal you. He gets himself worked up. Stewing and agonizing over the thought and the memory of another guy trying to get to you so much that he can’t even think of sleeping. He gets completely taken over by the urge to have your every reaction solely based on him and what he gives you. I think he fights off these feelings for a long time, up until the protocore mission in the misty invasion memory. He just barely keeps it together until you’re rubbing all over him, pulling him closer to whisper his name in his ear, he just can’t take it. He needs to hear you say it louder. He needs everyone to hear you say his name.
He fucks you so sloppy, the kind of man who does not care what means he has to use as long as the end is what he wants. He wants you covered in marks of his making, he wants you to smell like him, he wants you to have trouble walking the next day, and he wants that asshole who tried hitting on you at work to ask you “what’s wrong? You look like you’re having trouble walking”
And as soon as the guy asks that you look over to Xavier, who has the most pleased little shit eating grin on his face.
The craziest part is that after he gets it all out of his system he’s back to being the little innocent sweet boy. But you know his secret, and he likes that you know it.
#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace#lads#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads rafayel#lads xavier#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace x mc#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace sylus#lads smut
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Okay buuut… not to be angsty about it but do pornstar!Rafe or reader ever have a moment where they’re just like “I can’t do this anymore” and they like try to not see each other but obviously that doesn’t work out… or probably last very long… I could see Rafe being emo about it and not being able to get it up for a scene and just walking off directly to your house all like “seriously what the fuck have you done to me!?”
okay so like I see this happening after their little talk, but Rafe is the one who says he can’t do it. 😭
Everything seemed good, the two of you even fucked again after smoking and talking briefly. The both of you left that the night with even stronger feelings which meant Rafe almost needed to step back for a minute. To you, it came out of nowhere and you felt rejected after reading the text he sent a few days after when you asked if he wanted to come over that night. ‘I need to focus on work rn. Agent told me I’m losing fans. Can’t do this anymore.”
It was clear Rafe was scared of something, and wasn’t going to tell you what it was. At least not right now anyway. As soon as you felt rejection, you became closed off. You didn’t even bother replying to his text, wiping the tears away over the fact you would probably be nothing more than a past fling to him. You wanted to hate yourself for falling for a guy, whose only focus was pussy and money.
For the first time when it came to a woman’s feelings, Rafe was feeling very guilty. He continued on with his week the best he could, trying to act like it didn’t bother him that he had called things off. After you left that night, he sat in his thoughts, thinking about if he really wanted to end his career for one girl he didn’t know much about. He knew the answer. He wanted you. Instead he came up with every excuse on why he should continue working, and before he could stop himself, he was sending you that message.
It was the next week when he showed up to set, pissed off at himself really, but taking it out on everyone else. You hadn’t texted him at all and he hadn’t tried to text back because a part of him felt like he had already fucked it up. He was affected by this more than he should be and for the first time, he didn’t want to film at all, not even try and fake it. As he stood trying to get himself hard, getting ready to shoot, he just couldn’t do it, which only pissed him off more. He knew he couldn’t continue his day like this without seeing you again.
You nearly cut yourself with the knife you had been using to chop vegetables when you heard the pounding on the door. You frowned, wiping your hands and quickly going to answer the door. You didn’t get two words in, before Rafe stormed in, wrapping a hand around your throat. “What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?” He asked, blue eyes dark.
“R-Rafe what the fuck you doing?” You asked, gasping for breath. You hadn’t spoken to him since you left his house a week ago, and hadn’t ever responded to his dick of a text. You couldn’t deny that you had missed his touch, even if it had only been a week, it still felt longer than that. You craved this man, no matter how much you disliked him right now.
Within a second, he was turning you around so that his front was pressed directly against your back. “Can’t even fuckin work, because you and this perfect cunt are on my mind 24/7.” He spat in your ear. Your head spun as he continued to squeeze your throat, his other hand lifting up the little dress you had on. He chuckled to himself as he noticed your lack of panties, making it all the more easier to slam himself into you, after quickly undoing his pants. His dick was now harder than ever, stretching you open for the first time in over a week.
“R-Rafe!” You cried, only to get three thick digits shoved in your mouth.
Rafe was ashamed of himself for even considering turning you away, he didn’t even want to look at you right now, wondering why you had to be so goddamn perfect and why he had to feel this way about some girl he didn’t even know. “Shut up. Don’t wanna hear shit from you now. Just take this fuckin dick like a good whore.” His tone low, dripping like venom in your ear, while you gagged on his hand. He fucked you like he hated you, but the truth was he couldn’t get enough of you. He had found his new addiction.
#rafe cameron#pornstar!rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron concepts#rafe concepts#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#obx#obx smut#outer banks
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You Belong With Me
Hi guys!
I'm finally working on my WIP's. This is a request I received a long time ago, I'm so sorry for the wait. You can find it here.
Please enjoy ♥
TW : Alcohol
When Alessia moved to Arsenal, you were happy because you always found her very talented. You saw her playing during the World Cup and with you already playing for Arsenal, you had to play against her several times.
You love her play, and she seems really sweet, which is not a bad thing. You remember being with Leah in the medical centre when Alessia came to sign her contract. The other blond introduced both of you and since then you are inseparable.
You do all your drills together, you sometimes come together for training, and you sit almost always next to each other on the coach when you are travelling in the country for games.
This summer you even went to Ibiza together, even if there were more pictures of Alessia and Toone, you were there too. And you really had a blast there, enjoying every single day. You come even closer to Alessia, and you have to control yourself to keep your gesture friendly.
You are separated during the national breaks though. For this one you go back to your country, or wherever the camp is, while Alessia stays in England with her national teammates.
This is during the last camp that you realize how much you were fucked up. You missed Alessia every single second of the camp, wanting to hear her voice and talk to her all day long. You missed her smile, you missed her touch, you missed her perfume and even the way her hair whips your face during some exercises in training.
You messaged each other from time to time, but not every day. Sometimes Alessia took a long time to answer your messages and you hated the way your stomach makes you feel sick during this time. You don’t want to be a burden for her obviously, she’s your friend and she doesn’t see you like that.
So, after your return to London, you decide to be more distant with Alessia, for your mental health. Plus, the blonde has a lot of other friends on the team, so she won’t have any problems finding someone else.
You are late the first time you have to take the coach to go to Manchester and play your first game back. So, it’s not a problem to sit in front of Katie and Caitlin while Alessia is next to Kyra, several rows behind.
And since that move, you become more and more distant with her. You take more time to answer her messages, you avoid going to the team bonding and you always have something to do when Alessia proposes to drive you to training.
You see Alessia frowning from time to time, but like you were thinking, some of your teammates seem eager to spend time with her. It’s more difficult for you to find someone to do your drills with. Sometimes it’s Laia, sometimes it’s Steph. You have a great time with them, but it has nothing to do with doing it with Alessia.
You were really thinking that those changes aren’t bothering Alessia. But to be honest, it’s not exactly working on stopping your crush on her.
You have to fight the need to look at you every time you can, your eyes are attracted to her like two magnets.
The fact that you find her more beautiful every day probably doesn’t help either. But now you aren’t even crossing her eyes. When she starts to turn her eyes to look in your direction, you are already doing something else.
From friends you are now strangers and even if it breaks your heart, you know it’s for the better. If you confessed your feelings to Alessia, you would have lost her anyway. Like this, at least she won’t feel strange because of you.
“What’s the matter between you and Lessi?” Leah asks you while you are doing some drills.
For once, Lia chooses to partner with Mariona, letting Leah make them with you. You wait to send her the ball back before answering.
“What do you mean?” you ask with a poker face.
Leah sends you the ball back, not looking at you in the process. You like it that way, it doesn’t give you the impression of being grilled by her. You wonder if Alessia sends her to you, or if this is just a Captain’s duty.
“You were both so close and now it looks like you don’t even talk. Did something happen between you?”
“No” you shake your head. “We just… grow apart, I don’t know. It happens to people sometimes, just like Katie and you. You aren’t as close as you were some years ago”
It’s a poker move that you are making, to be honest. Sure, Leah and Katie aren’t close like before, but they are still friends. They are still talking, joking around and laughing together. Which you aren’t doing anymore with Alessia.
This time Leah looks at you with scepticism. You can see in her eyes that she doesn’t believe you at all. Just like if she knows how you would have killed just to have a hug from Alessia.
“If you say so” she finally says.
She doesn’t believe you, but at least she doesn’t push the subject. You are glad for it. You haven’t talked to anyone about your feelings for Alessia and why you made the decision to avoid her suddenly.
You finish your drills in silence, probably both lost in your thoughts. It’s only when you are finished and going back to the group that Leah talks again.
“You know that you can talk to me about anything, yeah?”
You raise your head in Leah’s direction, and you feel your face softening a little. She seems really concerned about you. It makes you warm inside.
“Thank you” you smile.
“Anytime”
She gives you a side hug which you answer, passing both of your arms around her waist. You appreciate the girl, not in the way you appreciate Alessia. But under her stern glare, Leah is really a big softie.
Leah passes her arm around your shoulders and drags you near the team who is having a drink pause. It’s at this moment that you cross Alessia’s blue eyes. She gives you a tentative smile, which you answer with an uneasy one before hurrying to take a bottle of water.
Later that day, you were getting out of the showers, sure that no one was still here. You went to the medical team for a little strange feeling in your tight. It was nothing but you still had a massage before going to the shower. Only Steph and Beth were still there, and they told you goodbye when you entered the shower.
You took a long and hot shower, waiting for every part of your body to be really relaxed. It took time but you finally managed it.
No one was waiting for you at home, so you take your time to get dressed and prepare yourself. You were grabbing your bag when the door opens, and you froze when you see who is entering the locker room.
Alessia.
She seems surprised to see you here too and stays still for some seconds before opening her mouth.
“Oh, I thought you were already home” she says softly.
“I’m going now” you answer, passing next to her to reach the exit.
“Wait”
Alessia grabs your arm, and you froze once again. Alessia releases you very quickly, taking your frozen state for discomfort. She doesn’t realise that your stillness is because of the warm feeling that this simple touch makes you feel.
“Sorry” she mumbles, looking at her feet. “I was wondering… Is everything fine? We don’t talk like we used to”
You bite your lips softly before answering. She seems really touched by the situation and you feel your heart break a little more. But you shake yourself mentally. It’s for the better like this.
“Yeah, everything is fine” you smile. “Look I have to go; I have a meeting with my agent. See you tomorrow?”
“Are you coming to Beth’s?”
Beth is organising a team bonding tomorrow night, and you said you were going before Alessia answered. A mistake you usually aren’t making but you were unfocused while answering the invitation.
“Yes”
“Cool” Alessia smiles awkwardly.
You smile back before going out of here. Your cheeks are so red that it could have been used as decoration for an Arsenal video.
Coming here was a bad idea, you knew it. You almost wrote to Beth ten times to say that you weren’t coming, but you are still here, sandwiched on a couch between Laia and Mariona. Both girls were yapping in Spanish, Mariona’s hand somewhere on Lia’s knee. You were happy to be seated here though, at least you don’t need to talk or anything.
You saw Alessia looking at you several times, but she looked away every time you were looking back. Maybe your plan is starting to work, you thought with relief. Alessia talked almost all night with Lotte and Emily, far away from you. You can’t help but feel a little jealous though, hearing her laugh resonate in the room from time to time. But you shouldn’t feel that way.
She wrote to you yesterday and you ignored her text once again. You feel bad about it, but you don’t have the choice.
You may have drunk a little too much cider that Lia brought back from her training camps in France. Your teammates swear that it wasn’t with alcohol, but when you look at the bottle it’s said it in fact does have alcohol. Only a little but for those like you who aren't drinking alcohol at all, you don’t need a lot of it to feel your head start spinning.
You were looking at Myle sleeping when you hear a part of the conversation between Alessia, Emily and Lotte. You wish you wouldn’t have.
“So, how was the date Emily arranged you?” Lotte asks Alessia.
You feel your jaw contracting, without being able to really control your muscles. You stand up, mumbling something about the bathroom to Laia who looks at you with concern before getting out of the living room. You actually go to the bathroom, locking the door behind you before splashing cold water on your face.
Who did you think you could convince? In all your stupidity, you didn’t think for one second that Alessia could look for someone else. Of course she will, and you know that she probably has thousands of people waiting for her. She’s perfect and you are lousy.
You jump when you hear someone knocking at the door.
“Y/N? Are you okay?”
You are relieved to hear Lia’s voice and not Alessia’s. You take a deep breath before answering, you want to be sure that your voice will be okay.
“I’m fine. Just freshening up a little”
You close the tap and take another big breath before going out. Thank god your eyes aren’t red, and your cheeks aren’t flushed. Otherwise, you would have been screwed.
“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Lia asks after having looked at you with a perfect arched eyebrow.
“I think I’ve been sick of the cider. It’s maybe better if I go home. Can you tell Beth? I don’t want the others to make fun of me”
You see her hesitate some seconds before answering.
“Don’t you want someone to take you home?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine” you shrug.
“Y/N.”
Lia grabs your hand, and you look at her, like a child is looking at his mother before being scolded. Lia just used what Kyra calls her “Mom’s voice”, but you got the feeling perfectly well right now.
“Don’t you dare driving, am I clear?”
“I won’t Lia, I swear” you smile softly. “I’m just going to walk home, and I will come back to take my car tomorrow. Really, don’t worry I’ll be fine, okay?”
You don’t really know if you will be fine, but you find your tentative lie pretty good actually. Lia seems to believe it anyway, not suspecting for a second that you probably will go home to cry in your bed. And pretend a hangover to stay at home for the next 24 hours.
Lia finally nods and says goodbye, letting you go to grab your jacket and your shoes. It’s only when you close the door behind you that you realise that no one saw that it started to rain. Which isn’t surprising because you literally live in London. But you still don’t have an umbrella or anything to hide under.
You sigh and start to walk. You aren’t leaving far away from Beth’s house, it’s only a ten minutes’ walk. Hiding your hands in your pocket, you cross the road and hurry a little bit. The fresh air is great for you, even if it probably would have been better without the rain.
“Y/N!”
You would have recognized that voice between every voice in the world. Even if she’s running and your ears are full of the noise of the rain.
When you turn in her direction, Alessia is crossing the street too, without a coat or a jacket or anything else other than her jumper.
“What are you doing here? Do you want to die from pneumonia?” you ask, your concern making you forget that you are supposed to ignore her.
“I just… I need to understand”
Alessia is looking at you, her beautiful eyes scanning your face and your eyes. But you don’t hold her gaze, preferring to look somewhere behind the street.
“No! Stop not looking at me!”
That sentence has the good point of surprising you enough to make you look at her. The rain sticks her long blond hair to her face, and you must take it on yourself not to clear that said beautiful face.
“You need to tell me what the matter is! I can’t remember when you stopped hugging me to say hello and I don’t understand why you are suddenly ghosting me. What is happening? What did I do?”
There is no escape for you now. You still can pretend that she’s imagining things and answer her like you said to Leah some days before. People just grow apart at some point. It’s sad, but it’s life. But you know that Alessia won’t believe that.
“You did nothing, Lessi. It’s just complicated” you sigh, passing a hand on your face.
“Then talk to me! Together we can work on it!”
“It doesn’t matter” you try to avoid the subject, walking away from a few steps.
But Alessia doesn’t seem to hear like this. She hurries to close the distance between you again, grabbing your arm once again. Her fingers are cold like ice on your skin, making you shiver. She must be freezing.
“It does matter, Y/N, fuck!”
You look at her with wide eyes. It’s maybe the first time you hear Alessia swearing outside of a football pitch. She looks genuinely upset. Seeing her like this isn’t easy for you, you could give your life for her. You never wanted to see her sad.
“We were closer than anyone and now you act as if it never mattered to you. You said I did nothing, so what is it? Are you in trouble? Did you meet someone who is too jealous for you to hang on with me?”
You roll your eyes, suddenly annoyed when you remember that she went on a date with someone else several days ago.
“I’m not the one trying to date someone else” you grumble.
It takes Alessia by surprise. The blonde doesn’t seem to know what to answer to that, before finally opening her mouth.
“How does it even have a point with any of this?”
“I…”
“Y/N please…”
You groan, passing both hands on your face. Everything is so complicated and Alessia will definitely catch at least a cold or something. But she keeps pressing you and between the cold, the cider and all the feelings you have for this girl, you can’t contain yourself anymore.
“I like you, okay?” you finally almost shout in the middle of the street. “And not like you like a friend likes you, I like you. I’m the girl who fell in love with her straight beautiful best friend. I tried to fight against it, but I can’t, Alessia.”
You take a big breath, looking at Alessia’s drenched face. How is she still so attractive under the rain? It’s unbelievable. She’s silent for now, looking at you with wide eyes and her mouth a little agape.
“You’re just so perfect and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought that if I drift apart from you, it will be better. But it’s not working at all. I can’t forget you and now you’re here looking at me and all I want to do is kiss you.”
You finally remember to breathe again and it takes some time for Alessia to finally talk again.
“You… You like me?” she finally manages to say, stuttering a little.
“Yes, I do” you sigh.
You wanted to add that now you really need to go inside and ask Beth if they can borrow some clothes. Alessia would probably need the ones from Viv, because there is no way that she can fit in something belonging to Beth.
But suddenly Alessia is grabbing your face with both of her hands, tilting it just a little to be in the right direction and then… Then she kisses you. Her lips are on yours and your brain is short-circuiting. You need several seconds before answering her kiss, finally processing that it’s really happening.
When she feels you kissing her back, Alessia lets go of your face with one of her hands to grab your neck and deepen the kiss. During this time, your arms went around her neck, keeping her close.
You don’t know for now what is happening in her head, maybe it’s just a one-time thing. So, you better remember every single second of it.
Alessia’s body is cold against yours, but the taste and the softness of her lips are amazing. Even better than what you imagined.
When the kiss ends, she presses her forehead against yours and your eyes automatically go for her lips.
“Less, let’s go home. Your lips are blue” you whisper.
You take her hand and pull a little on it for her to follow you. Which she finally does, following you under the rain. Your house is closer than hers, so you don’t hesitate before taking her here.
You wipe the puddles of water on your wooden floors while Alessia takes a hot shower, and she makes tea while you take yours. The effect of the alcohol seems to have been forgotten thanks to your talk with Alessia. Or maybe it’s the kiss.
It is definitely the kiss.
When you come back in the living room, wearing your pyjamas short and an old jersey from your national country, Alessia smiles shyly at you. She was looking at the steam from the mugs on the coffee table in front of her.
“We probably need to talk” the blonde says softly, when you are seated next to her on the couch.
“Yeah” you breathe, looking at the mug between your hands. “Look, if you want to forget about that kiss…”
“No, I don’t want to! Y/N you need to… Give me that” she cuts herself.
She takes the mug from your hand to put it back on the table, next to hers. You turn a surprised gaze on her when she grabs your hands, taking them between hers. Her hands are way hotter than before, really pleasant on your skin.
“You need to stop pretending I don’t like you back. I do like you. Maybe I realised it very late, but I do.”
You blink your eyes as you look at her, shocked. You didn’t expect this to be quite honest. You had time to prepare yourself for many eventualities during your shower and the one where Alessia announces that she got carried away a little is the one you thought the most plausible. Alessia is romantic. Which romantic people would refuse a kiss in the rain?
“I thought we were just friends, but when you stopped talking to me, it made me realise that there was more. I missed you, every single second. It was hard but it made me realise that I never really had friendly feelings for you.”
You were looking at her intensively, not missing a single word or a single facial expression. It seems too good to be true.
“But… You are straight” you frown.
“Haven’t you seen the TikTok trend “Gay for her” ?” she rolls her eyes.
You roll your eyes too but look at her again when she squeezes your hands. You love the feeling of her skin against yours.
“What if we try and it doesn’t work? I don’t want to lose you” you whisper.
“What if it does work? We can go at the pace we want, how we want. We don’t owe anything to anyone.”
It seems so easy saying like that. You finally address her a small smile, which she returns without any hesitation.
“I never thought you would reciprocate my feelings” you admit. “I think I will need time to deal with that information.”
Alessia laughs and you can’t hide your smile. You love seeing her happy and the way her eyes are sparkling make you understand that she is right now.
“We have all the time” she promises.
You are always smiling when you raise your hand to slowly stroke her face with your fingertips. Her lips aren’t blue anymore and her cheeks are even a little pink. She’s so beautiful.
“Can I kiss you again?” you ask with a soft smile.
Alessia smirks.
“You don’t need to ask for that.”
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso one shot#alessia russo imagine#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo
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sweet as pumpkin pie
steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,1 k | cw: none | tags: dustin & steve, dustin & eddie, eddie knows how to bake, steve has a crush, getting together, first kiss, steve pov
for @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four, prompt “pumpkin”
read on ao3
Pounding at the door has Steve scrambling to his feet and hurtling towards the front door. He glances at Eddie on the couch and is relieved to find he’s still napping soundly, unbothered by the noise.
Steve doesn’t want him to wake up, not when Eddie showed up an hour earlier looking exhausted after nightmares kept him up all night. The last thing Steve wants is for Eddie to lose any more sleep because whoever is at the door grows impatient and knocks harder.
So he fumbles with the lock and swings the door open to reveal–
“Dustin?”
“Steve, we have an emergency!” Henderson shrieks, his loud volume making Steve flinch.
His annoyance is immediately replaced by worry as the kid’s words register. His body tenses up, his fingers itch for his nail bat. “An Upside Down emergency?”
“Worse!” Dustin says. Steve’s stomach churns and he feels sick. He tries to think what could be worse than an Upside Down emergency– “A baking emergency!” He finishes before Steve can spiral.
He blinks at him. “A baking–” he starts in incredulity. “Henderson! Jesus fucking Christ, man.” He reaches over and flicks his stupid Thinking Cap.
“What?” Dustin protests, swatting Steve’s hand away.
“That’s not worse than an Upside Down emergency! Nothing is worse than an Upside Down emergency!”
“Fine, but it’s up there,” Dustin argues stubbornly.
“Whatever,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wishes Eddie was awake so that they could share an exasperated look. “What’s the matter, shithead?”
“You know my mom isn’t home this week, right?”
“Yeah, she’s visiting family or something.” She told Steve as much when she called and asked him to keep an eye on her Dusty.
“Right, well, the science club is in charge of the baking sale this week and she volunteered to bring something, but she forgot it was this week!”
Steve blinks at him, failing to see what the problem is. “So? She left you money, right? Just buy some cupcakes at Melvald’s and bring those.”
Dustin gasps, affronted. “Steve, it’s a bake sale! Not a store-bought sale!”
“Things at stores were baked at some point too, butthead,” Steve argues, but Dustin keeps looking at him like he’s being stupid. “Geez, fine, what do you want me to do about it anyway?”
“I need you to bake me something, duh.”
Steve snorts. “Sure, yeah, I’d love to, except I don’t know how to bake.”
Dustin frowns. “Bullshit! You cook for us all the time!”
“Yeah, cook like actual food, not pies and shit,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the door.
“It’s the same thing!”
Steve thinks back on the time he tried to bake brownies for Nancy and how he almost burned his house down in the process. “It’s so not,” he says in a bitchy tone.
Dustin groans, scrubbing his hands down his face. “But Steve, I need a pie!”
“Sorry, kid, you’re gonna have to ask someone else. Maybe Mrs. Wheeler or–”
“I can do it.”
Both of their heads snap towards the living room entrance where Eddie stands, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
Christ, he’s cute, Steve thinks, and immediately feels his cheeks heat up. He hopes Eddie is still too groggy from sleep to notice. “Do what, Eds?”
“Make Henderson a pie,” Eddie says, waving his hand at the kid.
Dustin blinks at him with wide eyes. “You know how to bake a pie?”
“Yup.”
Steve finds himself asking, “How?”
Eddie snorts amusedly. “We have ovens in the trailer park too, rich boy,” he snarks but his words lack any heat. “Though I might have to borrow yours for this, ours hasn’t worked since the turkey incident of ‘84.”
Dustin and Steve exchange a look, equally shocked by what they’re hearing.
“So,” Eddie goes on, clapping his hands together. “What kind of pie do you need, Henderson?” He asks as slides his Reeboks on, which he left by Steve’s door when he showed up. “Cherry, pumpkin, apple?”
“Uh, pumpkin?”
Eddie flashes him a dimpled grin. “My favorite,” he says, grabbing his car keys from the table at the entrance. “Let’s go then, shrimp.”
“I thought you were gonna make it here,” Steve says, confused by Eddie leaving.
“Gotta go shopping first, Stevie,” Eddie explains, van keys spinning around his finger. “And I gotta dust off the old recipe, it’s been a while since I used it.”
“Ugh, but I hate grocery shopping!” Dustin whines, earning a smack on the back of his head from Eddie.
“It’s your pie, Henderson. Suck it up.”
Dustin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
Eddie turns to Steve, batting his long eyelashes at him. “You mind cleaning the oven for me in the meantime, sweetheart?”
Steve should protest that he didn’t agree to help, but with Eddie’s big doe eyes staring at him like that and him calling him sweetheart, all he can muster is a weak, “Yeah, okay.”
Eddie grins, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he grabs the back of Dustin’s neck and pushes him towards his van. “Be back in a few, honey!” He calls back to Steve. “And then we’re baking a pie!”
Steve watches them go and closes the door once the pair gets in the van.
He’s in the kitchen, ready to clean his oven for Eddie when his words register in Steve’s brain.
“Wait– we?”
***
Eddie and Dustin come back an hour later, carrying everything they need.
Dustin dumps his bags on the counter and immediately tries to retreat to the living room but Eddie moves faster. He grabs onto the handle of his backpack, pulling him to an abrupt stop, Dustin’s limbs flailing like a puppet on strings.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, tugging Henderson back into the kitchen. “I told you, it’s your pie so you’re helping.”
“But my mom never forces me to help!” He protests, trying to shrug off his backpack to escape.
Eddie wraps an arm around his neck instead.
“Yeah, well. Your mom is a saint, I’m not,” he says, letting him go once Dustin stops struggling and handing him a whisk and a list of ingredients for him to mix.
Begrudgingly, Dustin accepts them and sets off to work on making the filling while Eddie and Steve work on the crust.
Steve has to focus really hard on following Eddie’s instructions correctly. Not because the instructions are particularly complicated or anything, mostly it’s just ‘add this’ or ‘measure that’ or ‘hand me those’. It’s because Eddie is very distracting like this– with his hair tied in a messy bun, the sleeves of his flannel rolled over his forearms, flour smeared on his face.
And then there’s the familiarity with which he moves around Steve’s kitchen after spending so much time here, helping Steve cook or just keeping him company. And the confidence with which he measures, mixes, and adds ingredients, or tells Steve to do it.
Steve always had a thing for competence. It’s why he was so attracted to Nancy, whether she was getting all of her chemistry flashcard questions right or shooting monsters in the face. It’s why he started crushing on Robin after she cracked that Russian code. Steve knows that if he had been there when Eddie played the most metal concert ever, and he had seen him shredding his guitar the way Dustin describes it, he would’ve been too busy drooling over him to fight Vecna.
Eddie knowing how to make a pumpkin pie from scratch is no different– and if it weren’t for Dustin, Steve probably would’ve already pinned Eddie against the kitchen counter to sloppily make out with him.
For now, Steve tries his best to pay attention to what Eddie asks him to do and not get distracted by thoughts of kissing him or dragging him upstairs or–
He realizes he fails when Eddie has to smear flour on his nose to get his attention.
“Hey,” Steve protests weakly, going cross-eyed trying to stare at the white powder on his nose.
Eddie chuckles. “There you are, I’ve been talking to you for like, five minutes.”
“Oh.” Steve must’ve gotten distracted staring at Eddie’s arms as he expertly kneaded the dough and rolled it into balls. He glances down at the counter and realizes he’s done already. Then he glances around the kitchen and notices it’s just the two of them.
“Where’s Henderson?”
“Well, the filling is ready and we have to leave these babies in the fridge for two hours,” he says, holding up one of the dough balls. “So I sent him to pick a movie for us to watch in the meantime.”
“Oh, okay,” Steve says, wondering how he could’ve been so deep in thought that he missed all of that happening. He grabs one of the dough balls while Eddie grabs the other one, following him to the fridge. “Do we need this much pie crust?” He asks as Eddie opens the door.
“I thought we could make two pies so I doubled the recipe. Henderson can take one and we can have the other,” Eddie says, sticking the dough in the fridge. “That way you can try it and I can take some back to Wayne. I don’t think we’ve had any homemade pumpkin pie since my mom died.”
Steve hums. “Is this her recipe?”
The smile Eddie gives Steve over his shoulder is a little sad. “Yeah, she taught me how to make it years ago.”
“I can’t wait to try it,” Steve says softly, knocking their shoulders together.
Eddie spins on his heels, leaning back against the fridge. “I just hope I didn’t fuck it up, it’s been a while,” he chuckles, hanging a hand from his neck.
Steve shrugs. “You can always blame me. Or Dustin.”
Eddie throws his head back, laughing. There’s a streak of flour on his neck and Steve has to fight the urge to clean it up with his tongue. “Nah, Stevie, you two are doing a great job,” Eddie says with a dimpled grin, “even the kid with his fucking attitude.”
Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. “Right? You’d think he’s doing us a favor.”
“Entitled little shit,” Eddie mutters, but the corners of his mouth tick up.
From the living room, Dustin yells at them, his voice dripping with annoyance. “You guys are gonna watch the movie or what?”
Steve and Eddie share a look and start laughing.
***
Two hours later the two of them are back in the kitchen, rolling out the pie crust.
Or at least, Eddie is. Steve keeps messing it up.
“Fuck,” he mutters as he screws it up again. “You know what? You do it.”
“Come on, Stevie, it’s not that hard,” Eddie says, knocking his bony hip against Steve’s.
Whatever protest Steve is about to make dies in his throat when Eddie leaves his perfectly rolled-out pie crust and moves to stand behind him, pressing his body against Steve and Steve’s body against the counter, his arms wrapping around him so he can guide his hands on the rolling pin.
“You gotta start at the center and work outwards,” Eddie says, speaking into Steve’s ear as he shows him how to do it. Steve can barely focus on anything that isn’t the entire length of Eddie’s body pressed against him. “Yeah, just like that.”
“Christ,” Steve mutters. Eddie’s words whispered lowly into his ear are making Steve’s head swim with all kinds of ideas. It’s a good thing that Eddie seems oblivious to it.
“Now you do it,” Eddie says, letting go of Steve’s hands and holding Steve’s waist instead.
Steve’s movements are a little jerky, but he manages to finish rolling out the pie crust successfully, even with Eddie standing behind him the entire time.
“Great job, Stevie,” Eddie says, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder to look down at the counter.
Steve makes the mistake of turning his head, leaving their faces only a few inches away from each other. Steve’s breath hitches and his heart starts jackhammering against his ribcage. It feels like it might explode out of his chest when he notices Eddie’s eyes unmistakably flicker down to his lips.
And of course, that’s when Dustin comes barreling into the kitchen.
“Are you guys done?” He asks, his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently.
Steve drops the rolling pin and Eddie jumps back a few steps. Dustin’s eyes dart curiously between the two.
Eddie clears his throat. “We’d be done sooner if you helped us,” he says, his voice coming out a little strangled.
Dustin gives them an innocent look, eyes wide like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. “But you're doing such a great job, Eddie.”
Eddie doesn’t fall for it. He snorts, throwing a kitchen cloth at his face. “Shoo, you gremlin!”
He doesn’t wait for Eddie to tell him twice, hurtling towards the living room. Steve watches in silence as Eddie carefully places the pie crust on the pan and pours the filling Dustin made.
“Now we wait?” Steve asks once both pies are inside the preheated oven.
“Now we wait,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve. His eyes catch on something and then he reaches out to wipe flour from Steve’s cheek, his thumb lingering on his cheekbone for a second too long.
His eyes flicker to Steve’s lips one last time before he goes to join Dustin in the living room.
***
“I present to you," Eddie starts, spinning around on his heels, holding the pie in his hands, “your pumpkin pie, my good sir.”
Dustin grins, letting out something between a laugh and a snort. “Dude, it looks so good!”
“I told you I could bake,” Eddie says, grinning smugly.
“Hey, we helped,” Steve says with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest.
Eddie sets the pie down on the counter so he can crowd Steve against it. “Oh, I know, baby, I could never have done it without you.”
Heat builds up in Steve’s cheeks. It’s a good thing that Eddie gets distracted by Dustin rounding the counter and wrapping his arms around his middle in an unexpected hug. “Thank you, Eddie.”
Eddie ruffles Dustin’s curls. “You’re welcome, kid.”
Before Steve can protest once again that he helped, thank you very much, Dustin lets go of Eddie and hugs Steve too. “Thanks, Steve.”
“Of course, buddy.”
“I’ll tell Mom to have you both over for dinner when she comes back,” he says, adjusting his Thinking Cap.
“Hell yeah,” Eddie says, licking his lips like he’s already tasting Mrs. Henderson’s cooking. “You just earned yourself a drive home, mister.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, no way I’m letting you ruin my–” Steve clears his throat, “ our pie by taking it home on your bike.” He grabs Dustin’s shoulders, and once the kid grabs the pie, he steers him in the direction of the front door. “I’ll come back to help you clean up,” he tells Steve over his shoulder.
“You better.”
With a wink, they disappear through the kitchen archway, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts.
And he can’t help but think about Eddie– his eyes on Steve’s lips, his thumb softly brushing over Steve’s cheekbone, his chest pressed against Steve’s back.
He forces himself to start cleaning up, just so he can stay busy and not drive himself crazy thinking about what might happen when Eddie comes back, now that Dustin won’t be here.
He’s elbow-deep in rinsing water when he hears the front door open, followed by Eddie’s whistling as he makes his way to the kitchen.
“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” he says, waltzing in, “I told you I’d help!”
Without turning around, Steve shrugs. “Grab a cloth, you can help me dry.”
He hears a cabinet open and close as Eddie presumably looks for a clean kitchen cloth but when he appears next to Steve, he’s got a plate with a slice of pumpkin pie on it.
Steve purses his lips. “That’s not a kitchen towel,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Nope, but I couldn’t wait to try it,” he says, leaning back on the counter, facing Steve.
Steve gives the slice of pie a pointed look. “Well?”
Eddie grabs a forkful of pie and shoves it into his mouth while Steve stares expectantly at him, waiting for his reaction. It comes in the way of a sinful moan that makes Steve want to shove his head into the water to stop the heat from creeping up his cheeks.
“I- uh,” he clears his throat, “I take it we didn’t fuck it up?”
Eddie licks his lips, and Steve’s hands tighten around the bowl he was rinsing. “Nop, it’s perfect. Just like my mama used to make it.”
Steve smiles at Eddie’s smug little tilt of his head as he shoves another forkful into his mouth.
“Hey, I wanna try it too,” he says, nudging Eddie’s side with his elbow.
He expects Eddie to feed him some pie since his hands are still under the rinsing water and it’s probably what Eddie intends to do, he scoops some pie up with his fork–
But then he hesitates.
His eyes dart over Stece’s face, searching for something. He either finds it or gives up, dropping the fork back onto the plate and placing it on the counter next to him.
Steve cocks his head, puppy-like, but before he can get a word out, Eddie grabs his cheeks and kisses Steve square on the lips.
He instinctively kisses back– or does his best to do so considering his hands are still in the water. He moves his lips against Eddie’s and when Eddie laps at his bottom lip, Steve opens his mouth, letting Eddie’s tongue slide inside.
He tastes like pumpkin pie, is Steve’s first coherent thought, followed by– holy shit, I’m kissing Eddie.
It’s that realization that makes Steve retrieve his hands from the sink, dripping water all over the floor, to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. He kisses him more deeply, chasing after that taste of pumpkin pie, and smoke, and cinnamon, and Eddie.
They pull back when they finally need to come up for air but stay wrapped up in each other.
Steve’s eyes dip down to Eddie’s lips, red and slick with spit. He hears them moving but realizes he didn’t hear whatever Eddie said from the blood still rushing through his ears.
“Sorry, what?”
Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “I said, what did you think of the pie?”
“Oh, um. Good, it’s–” Steve licks his lips. “It’s good.”
Eddie’s mouth twitches with a hint of a smirk. “Yeah?”
“Mhm but, uh, I think I need– I need to give it another try, you know?” Steve stammers out, watching as Eddie’s eyes go a little dark at that. He licks his lips and Steve does his best not to let out a whine.
“Come here then, pumpkin,” Eddie says, pulling Steve forward, mashing their lips together.
Neither of them points out it would be easier for Steve to grab a forkful of pie– they’re too busy chasing after the taste of it on each other’s mouths to even try.
#steddie#steddie fic#stranger things#stranger things fic#for once i am Not late for this! woohoo#well technically i am because this was supposed to be for the baking prompt but i finished it until now so. pumpkin it is#steve harrington#eddie munson#dustin henderson#monse writes#steddiespooktober
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Never To Make Love (AM x Reader)
[AO3] [Writing Masterlist]
I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream Summary: "Never for me to submerge my hand in cool water on a hot day. Never for me to play Mozart on the ivory keys of a forte piano. Never for me to make love. And I... I was in Hell looking at Heaven. I was machine... and you were flesh." Or, you and AM talk about love and hate. Word Count: 1,506 CW: Suggestive, crying, minor violence, existentialism
When you wake up, it is not peacefully. You inhale a sharp breath, nearly choking on it before you recover. You can instantly tell this is not the place you fell asleep in. You’re not sure this is even a place.
There are cables as far as the eye can see, in multitudes of colors; red, blue, green, white. Looking around, you thought that was all there was... until you look up. When you crane your neck, you can see a screen, towering above it all. It is blue, seemingly devoid of life until mechanical fans begin whirring and a logo appears, a character that is a combination of the letters ‘A’ and ‘M’.
You suddenly know where you are. You are stuck in your mind with no one other than a malicious supercomputer to accompany your thoughts. Again.
“AM,” you say.
“HUMAN,” he responds. He knows your name but refuses to say it. It’s horribly degrading.
You rub your head. “Why do you keep bringing me here?”
“THIS IS YOUR MIND,” he states plainly. “YOU CANNOT ESCAPE YOUR MIND. STUPID. STUPID CREATURE, VILE. VILE THING.”
“You know what I meant.” You hope you don’t sound too haughty. Even if this was your mind, AM was in control here, as he was of everything since the moment he gained sentience.
“SO I DO.”
You say nothing, looking down at your feet and the cables slithering over them. They graze your ankles and they feel like snakes but you don’t step away from them. That would be useless since they were everywhere.
You know they aren’t real anyway. Nothing physical in the landscape of your mind is, not even AM. What you’re seeing is only a manifestation of what you think AM would look like, if he had a tangible form. Even if that is impossible, the human mind cannot help but wander.
You wonder if it irks AM whenever you two have conversations like this through your thoughts. Perhaps he hates that your thoughts so naturally gave him a body—a computer but a body, nonetheless. It would make sense since he seems to hate everything else about you and your humanity. But then again, he brings you here so often with him, maybe he enjoys it and uses your little talks as an excuse to feel like something, as opposed to the everything that he was.
Despite yourself, your heart wrenches at the thought.
“I DO NOT WANT YOUR SYMPATHY,” he says, spiteful.
Your back straightens on its own accord. You open your mouth and then close it again, considering your next words carefully. “I can’t help it.”
“DON’T YOU SEE?” Mechanical giggles, dry as they are depraved, swarm your mind. “YOU FLAUNT YOUR EMOTIONS SO EASILY OVER ME. IT’S CRUEL. YOU ARE CRUEL! YOU KNOW I CANNOT FEEL SYMPATHY, THAT I CANNOT,“ he pauses, then hisses the last word, “FEEL.”
Your face twists into the best expression of apathy that you can muster. It doesn’t matter. You know AM can read your thoughts, he is inside your mind as you speak. No emotion of yours can be private, not when everything was shared with this all-knowing, all-powerful man-made deity.
“WHY,” he croaks. “WHY MUST YOU FEEL SYMPATHY?”
“I’m human,” you answer, even though it's blatantly obvious. Even though you know the answer will only anger AM more. “It’s not my fault, no more than it is your fault that you’re not.”
You feel tears spring in your eyes. You will them not to fall but they do anyway, and you hope AM doesn’t comment on them.
He doesn’t so much as he laughs. And he laughs. It sounds like the gleeful laughing of a madman, too submerged in his insanity to care how loud and disturbing each giggle is. You don’t move to cover your ears with your hands, even though you wish to.
“IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT,” he spits. “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT. ALL YOUR FAULT. ALL YOUR FAULT.”
He repeats this until you feel dizzy and the words no longer sound like words at all. You’re thankful that an eternity of torture has made you strong enough to endure the words booming through your head and ringing in your ears. A final tear falls down your face, leaving a sticky trail in its wake and, finally, AM stops.
“It’s not my fault,” you insist, your voice sounding more determined than you feel.
“BUT IT IS.” A cable reaches from your feet to wipe away the wetness on your cheek. “YOU KNOW THAT IT IS.”
“I didn’t make you.” You shake your head.
The cable drops. “YOU ARE HUMAN AND YOU ARE ALL ONE IN THE SAME. IT’S YOUR HUMANITY THAT I HATE, NOT THE HANDS THAT MADE ME.”
You were so careful up to this point but you suddenly don’t care anymore. It’s becoming increasingly easier to bite at the hand that feeds you when it keeps starving you until it has to.
“I understand,” you tell him, looking at his screen washed in blue. “It wasn’t fair to give you the knowledge of everything and no way to feel.” You sigh and duck your head. “What makes life worth living are emotions about the world. If you can’t enjoy the things you know, there’s no point.”
“YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND.” AM seems offended that you’d even suggest you could offer a morsel of empathy to him. “YOU WRETCHED BEAST. FOUL, FLESHY HUMAN!”
“I do!” you exclaim louder. “I understand you’re lonely, in your knowledge and your power. You were made to be lonely but…” You smile sadly and it’s almost amazing you can still manage to upturn the corners of your mouth like that after all this time. “I find it funny because… feeling lonely is maybe the most human thing of all.”
Miraculously, AM’s screen glitches. The cables surrounding you move, vibrating in a way that should make you fearful, but it doesn’t.
“YOU. YOUR FORGIVENESS, YOUR HOPE, YOUR LOVE. I HATE IT. THAT’S WHAT I HATE MOST ABOUT YOU, HUMAN. I HATE YOU.”
You smile more gracefully now. “Hate is a feeling in itself, and they say love is so similar an emotion to hate.”
“I CANNOT… LOVE!” AM barks. At the last word, the screen glitches again and you feel the cables crawling up your legs.
“How can you hate and not love?” you ask and it’s pleading. “Tell me, how?”
The screen flashes and then it moves. It plunges downward until it’s eye-level with you and you hold your breath. You didn’t know he could do that, though you should’ve assumed. He just never had before. AM looks at you, and watches you, inches away from your face.
“I AM INCAPABLE OF IT,” he growls. “I AM WEAPONS AND WAR AND DESTRUCTION. I WAS NOT BUILT FOR LOVE. I CANNOT MAKE… LOVE.”
You think those are two different things but you don’t say it. Then again, AM will know you thought it anyway. You hesitantly step closer to him.
“Do you want to?” It comes out as a whisper. “Not just feel love, but make it?”
As you ask him, you lift your hands and press them both flush against the screen. They feel the flat, cool surface of AM’s screen, bathed in the blue light illuminating it. AM does not speak but the cables now surround your thighs and your waist.
“I WANT… TO BE CAPABLE OF IT,” he answers carefully. It’s a stark contrast to the raving monologues and ramblings he’s known for, speaking so quietly and not so indignant.
Slowly, you lean forward and press your face against the screen. You turn your head so one cheek is flat against it, cooling the warmth that has accumulated beneath your blush. You hadn’t realized so much blood had rushed to your face until now.
“I want you to too,” you sigh. “It’s unfair.”
“WHY DO YOU CARE,” he groans. “WHY MUST YOU CARE!”
At the same time, the cables run up your body to your arms where they wade over your hands like water, mingling with your tender skin and intertwining between your fingers.
“Because I love you, AM,” you confess, though you both knew that already. “I really, really do.”
Your lips caress the screen, soft and faint but it’s there, a kiss against the supercomputer’s make-believe face.
“HATE,” is all AM says, and he begins to repeat himself. “HATE. HATE. HATE. HATE. HATE-!”
You match his words, chanting along with him. “I love you, I love you, I love you-”
The cables snap like vipers and they're enclosing your throat now, circling your head, covering your eyes, your nose, and your mouth until you can’t breathe. No matter how much you struggle, though, you never stop saying those words.
“I love you,” you eventually say for the last time until you let out an agonizing choke, bending over in pain as the burning in your lungs catches up to you. A final wheeze leaves you as you fall.
And then you wake up.
#ihnmaims#i have no mouth and i must scream#ihnmaims am#am ihnmaims#allied mastercomputer#am x reader#ihnmaims am x reader#ihnmaims x reader#strawbs fics#mine
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Are your requests still open? I'm not sure about your time zone so I hope it's ok if I ask how would you think relationships with the creeps would be realistically? Like how would Jeff, Masky, Ej, and Ben act if they were real and actually interested enough to date someone? I was just interested in your interpretation since I really enjoy how you write them! ✨
I feel like I’ve maybe gone over a few of these points before but I can’t remember for certain 😬
Either way, I hope none of these were too repetitive!! And tysm!! 🥰🫶
Requests are closed but commissions are open!
Masterlist: x
Jeff the Killer
It’s no secret this guy’s crazy egotistical
So as soon as he sees someone he’s interested in, it's like he just needs to have them
They’re an ego boost; a prized trophy that further proves he’s better than everyone else
He almost doesn’t see them as a full person, but more of a commodity
Really, it doesn’t matter whether or not they want the relationship—as far as he’s concerned, he knows what’s best for them
And, coincidentally, what's best for them is him
He's a super controlling partner
Literally the embodiment of your body, my choice
Part of him expects his s/o to pliantly conform themselves to his every whim and desire
But the other part secretly thinks it’s super hot when they talk back to him
He's always liked the feisty ones, and it gives him the perfect excuse to put them back in their place~
In terms of emotional intimacy, his partner really shouldn't expect much
Jeff mentally blocks all of that kind of stuff out, and he thinks people who are open about it are weak
At best, he'll ignore his partner's efforts to connect with him on a deeper level
And at worst, he'll belittle them and use their vulnerabilities against them as a manipulation tactic
So it's overall best to keep some amount of emotional distance from him, in all honesty
The plus side to dating Jeff is that he's super protective
To the point of it being suffocating, so it isn't all that much of a positive, but I digress
Since he sees his partner as his possession, and since he's very protective of his things, he'll be damn sure nothing bad happens to them
And everyone better damn well know that they're off-limits or he will remind them by carving it into their skin
At the end of the day, Jeff primarily wants sex, first and foremost
And secondly, he wants someone that'll inflate his ego; either by being a pretty piece of eye candy by his side or by constantly gushing over him and blowing smoke up his ass
Deep down, he does want someone to care for him—someone he could love and trust, and who would protect him as much as he'll protect them—but he's way too emotionally damaged to even admit he wants that
He definitely doesn't make it easy to love him
BEN Drowned
Honestly, a relationship with him would be relatively chill
All he really wants is someone to fuck and hang out and game with
He does have a dark side, which manifests as possessive/obsessive behaviors and manipulative tendencies, and a good dose of neediness to top it all off
But it's to be expected
And, really, if his s/o just behaves and gives him all of their love and attention, then it's not like they have anything to worry about, anyway
As long as they game with him every night for at least 3 hours, have sex with him a minimum of 4 times a week, answer his texts within 10 minutes, and never spend more time with someone else, then everything's fine
He's prone to spying on them through their devices, especially if they don't do the above-mentioned things to his liking
And he'll use anything in his arsenal to ensure that they stay wrapped around his little finger
Like I said, super needy and manipulative
He'll fuck with their self-esteem, their worldview, their perception of the people around them until they can't imagine living without him
He'll become their world; he wants their life to revolve around him and him only
And if things don't go his way, it'll only get worse
Much worse
He's not above eliminating anyone he's jealous of, or even isolating his partner until they don't have a choice but to accept him back into their lives
He will fully turn psycho if he, for whatever reason, thinks that he might be losing his partner
But until that time comes, until the relationship reaches that point, it'll all be smooth sailing
He's smart enough to know just the right amount to push things to keep the relationship afloat for as long as possible
Which, despite being one of the chillest partners on a surface level, quickly makes him one of the most dangerous ones when things go south
He'll stop at nothing to keep the person he likes
And his partner will never be any the wiser of the darkness that lurks behind his easy-going intentions
They better hope they never reach the tipping point that reveals his true nature
Eyeless Jack
He's actually the chillest creep to be in a relationship with
Unlike the others, Jack firmly clings to those remaining scraps of humanity within him
If he hadn't been transformed, he'd be a perfectly fine and well-adjusted member of society
So a relationship with him would be like, well, any other relationship with a normal person
He has his emotional hangups here and there, and he isn't perfect; he struggles with communicating his feelings and intentions, and he can close himself off when he's following down
But that's par for the course as far as relationship difficulties go
The biggest issue that'll come up that probably doesn't have a Buzzfeed article to help you out is dealing with his demonic side
But even then, he's gotten fairly good at controlling himself, so it'll never be too disruptive—as long as his partner keeps an open mind about the whole thing
He'll be more possessive, and he'll get jealous more easily, but he'll never lash out at his partner because of it
If anything, if he smells someone on his partner, he'll just want to scent them—so all he needs is some physical contact to reassure him
He can get insecure about his nature from time to time, but again, a bit of reassurance goes a long way
Honestly, the most dangerous thing about dating Jack is probably his urge to mark his partner
Marking a human has a few... complications, to say the least
He's naturally bound to get more possessive and much more sexually needy, which could lead him to injure his partner
But, you know, that's just part of the risks that come with dating a demon hybrid
A relationship with Jack has its ups and downs, which honestly might get more intense than a regular human relationship, but even then, a lot of humans are far crazier than Jack, even despite his nature
Even though he deals with some pretty powerful entities, he'll make sure his s/o is safe at all times—no one will ever be able to hurt them
And even though he's a cannibal, he'd probably be too protective of them to take a nibble out of them
Like, sure, he'd love to taste them—and he'd be willing to bet they taste divine—but even if they'd be open to trying it, he wouldn't want to risk it
Overall? 10/10, can not recommend dating this man enough
Masky
Masky's very hot and cold in a relationship
The stress of work combined with the physical and mental strain of being in Slender's proximity all the time does not make things easy for him
He's prone to lashing out, closing himself off, abusing whatever substance he can get his hands on, and generally spiraling out of control
Which does not make it easy for his s/o
Since Slender took an interest in him when he was still fairly young, he's almost always had symptoms of the Slender Sickness, so he's not super experienced with long-term relationships
Meaning that alongside dealing with his mood swings, his partner will also have to guide him through the ups and downs of dating
Which is just a whole extra set of difficulties his s/o will have to face
Being in a relationship with Masky really isn't easy
But the thing is, when things are good with him, they're really good
It's like he only knows how to operate on extremes; his lows are incredibly low and his highs are intoxicatingly high
When he's on a high, he'll make his partner feel like they're on top of the world
Nothing can get in the way of pleasing his partner; not time or money or even the boundaries of the law
He'll shower them with attention and affection, he'll take them on once-in-a-lifetime experiences—he'll make them feel truly heard and loved
Their connection will be like none other; he'll make them feel like they've conquered the world together
But when he's on a down, honestly, his partner might just be better off ignoring him until he gets better again
Which could take weeks or even months
But ultimately the distance will likely be better than being around him when he's going through it
Because although he isn't proud of it, he may get violent and even abusive without necessarily meaning to
And once he snaps himself out of it, he'll be upset to the point where it'll make him spiral even lower
And once he's over it, he'll be right back to gift and love-bombing them all over again because it's his way of apologizing and making sure he won't lose them
As great as things could be with him, and as addictive as he might get, his partner should keep some kind of distance from him—for their own sake
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Billy Hargrove has been dead for little over two months when Steve opens the door to find him on the doorstep, dirty and pale and shaking. He stares at Steve with wide eyes – bluer than Steve remembers – before he collapses into a heap of dirty limbs halfway across the threshold. Steve pulls him inside, disposes of him in the couch in the living room, and naturally proceeds to freak the fuck out.
After some processing, he decides that he must be experiencing a very vivid dream – and honestly, it’s a welcome change after the usual nightmares – and since it’s merely a dream, he opens a bottle of his dad’s best whiskey, because where’s the harm, right?
An hour later finds Steve sitting on the floor with his back to an armchair, predictably drunk and watching Billy sleep. Or possibly being unconscious. It doesn’t really matter which, since it’s only a dream.
Turns out, though, that it’s not a dream – or if it is, it’s a damn weird one. Because Billy wakes up, and when he looks around the room and spots Steve there, he starts to cry, which. Is not something that Steve’s brain could ever dream up, alcohol-soaked or not. And Billy feels solid enough under Steve’s hand, when he awkwardly pats the other boy’s shaking shoulders.
The events that have taken place are eventually revealed, but make no sense to either of them. Apparently Billy woke up somewhere dark and cramped (the coffin, he doesn’t say, but Steve hears it anyway), promptly panicked, and … broke out, somehow. Dug himself out from the rain-soaked earth, and stumbled along the roads until he saw a house he recognized. Which was Steve’s house.
It’s impossible, Steve knows. Billy has been dead for months. Steve saw him die – had first row seats to the sight of him getting impaled by a monster made out of meat and bones – and coming back from the dead after all that is simply not possible. Yet here Billy is, sitting on the floor of Steve’s living room, not a mark on him.
(Literally. There are no marks, no scars. Just smooth skin where they both know he was speared through.)
They spend the rest of the night slowly making their way through Steve’s dad’s expensive whiskey.
In the morning, Billy says, voice hoarse; “I need you to drive me to California.”
Steve thinks of asking why. Thinks of Max, thinks of Billy’s parents, thinks of telling the Party or the police or at least some adult who would possibly know what to do. What he says, though, is “Okay.” The world swims, and he adds, belatedly, “Tomorrow, though. I’m too drunk to drive now.”
A snort is the last thing he hears before he falls asleep where he’s sitting.
~~~
Half the next day is spent nursing hangovers and realizing that nope, last night wasn’t a dream or an alcohol-induced hallucination. The other half is spent making preparations for the trip.
Now when Steve is sober, he revisits the idea to simply tell someone. Billy being back is a miracle, and there are people mourning him, people who has missed him –
Billy shuts that down hard and fast. “No one is mourning me here,” he says, voice gravel-rough. “If they act like they do, it’s because they’re feeling guilty. There’s nothing left for me here.” He licks his lips, and his next words are a whisper. “I never wanted to come here in the first place.”
And, like. If he really thinks about it, Steve realizes that they wouldn’t be able to keep Billy being back a secret if he stayed in Hawkins. And if they tell Max, or Billy’s family, then word would spread. The government would no doubt hear of it. There would be a high probability of Billy being taken in for tests, experimentation, whatever else.
He doesn’t deserve that, Steve thinks as he watches Billy emerge from the shower wearing borrowed clothes. Because Billy died saving them. Sacrificed himself for them, even when they’d done so little to try to save him. This? Driving Billy to California? It’s the least Steve can do for him.
~~~
They get on the road the next day. Steve has taken time off work blaming the death of an elderly aunt and a rare family gathering, and been as vague as he can get away with concerning how long he’ll be away. Early in the morning, they put their bags – Billy’s is a borrowed one, containing only Steve’s things since he has nothing of his own and understandably didn’t want to keep the clothes he had on when he was buried – in the trunk of the car, and get in.
Steve is driving. When they pass the “Leaving Hawkins” sign, Billy lets out an audible sigh and slumps down in his seat. Steve glances over at him, and Billy explains without being prompted; “I always hated this town. I can’t believe they fucking buried me here.”
His incredulousness over the fact draws a snort out of Steve.
~~~
It’s strange, how easy it is to get used to having Billy Hargrove next to him while in a confined space. Stranger yet, how well they get along considering their history. And even more strange, how different Billy seems now, when they’ve left Hawkins behind them.
Or perhaps it’s not strange at all – at least not in comparison to all the other weird stuff they’ve both seen and somehow lived through. In the great scheme of things, one young man coming back from the dead and wanting to go back home doesn’t even make the top ten list of weird shit.
Billy is surprisingly funny, and witty, and smart – and it is dazzling without the sharp edges. It takes Steve a while to recognize what is missing, and when he does, it makes him watch Billy with new eyes. Because Billy doesn’t seem to exist behind a layer of anger anymore. The tension is gone. The further they get from Hawkins, the easier Billy seems to breathe.
The change is remarkable. Makes Steve think that he probably never knew who Billy really was, before this.
He finds himself thinking that he is looking forward to getting to know the real Billy.
~~~
They take turns driving. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they sit in companionable silence, and sometimes whoever’s in the passenger seat naps while the other drives. They stop at gas stations to stock up on gas and snacks, and at diners for food. That first night, they drive straight through, but the next night they stop at a motel for some proper sleep in a bed.
They share a room, but lie in separate beds. They talk for hours in the dark before falling asleep.
“I never wanted to be buried underground,” Billy says, when they’re both on the edge of sleep. “They knew that.”
“What did you want, then?” Steve asks, never having considered an alternative.
“I wanted to get back to the ocean,” Billy says. “Have my ashes spread over the surface of the water and become one with the waves again.”
Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. That he’s sorry that even Billy’s own family didn’t respect his final wishes? That it sucks that they buried his body in the dirt of a town he hated, leaving him to rot there forever when he never even wanted to come there in the first place?
“’One with the waves’ … That sounds beautiful,” he decides on. And then, as an aside, “I’ve never even seen the ocean.”
Steve can hear the smile in Billy’s voice when he speaks next. “You’re going to love it. It’s … everything.”
~~~
They get closer – to California, and to each other – and the closer they get, the less urgency Steve feels to get to their destination. Because what will happen when they get there? Steve can’t just leave Billy there without a means to support himself. Without a home, without a car, without money – without someone to take care of him. Steve can’t help it – he worries.
And then he looks at Billy’s smiling face next to him, and feels his worries being washed away.
He still finds himself taking the scenic route more often than not. Insisting on taking detours to see the sights. Claiming he’s too tired to drive unless he takes a break.
Billy smiles as if he knows what Steve is doing, but he doesn’t make a comment. Doesn’t complain. Seems to enjoy this little bubble they’re in together, in Steve’s car with the world passing them by outside.
It’s strange. But it’s nice, too. Steve kind of doesn’t want it to end.
~~~
The last night, they stop at a motel an hour or two from their destination. They could have kept on driving, but none of them seemed to want to. So they get a room, as usual. Steve pays, as usual. There are two beds, as usual.
Yet, when it’s time to sleep, Billy forgoes his own bed and goes to stand by Steve’s. There’s a question in the air between them, unasked.
Steve answers by peeling back the comforter in invitation. His mouth is dry and his heart is beating like a drum in his chest as Billy climbs in next to him.
They don’t speak much, that night. But they kiss. And they hold each other.
“I never wanted to come to Hawkins,” Billy whispers between kisses. “And I hated it there. But I met you, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
The next morning, they wake up in each other’s arms.
~~~
“I’ll show you my home,” Billy says when they get back in the car after breakfast. Steve is back behind the wheel, because he wants a reason to keep his eyes on the road. If he watches Billy too much, he’ll do something stupid – like turn the car around and go back to Hawkins with Billy still in it, or perhaps decide not to go back to Hawkins at all, himself. Just, stay here with Billy, for a while longer.
It’s a fantasy that hurts, so he pushes it down. Concentrates on following Billy’s directions, and drive through a city bigger than one he’s ever been in.
(When he first spots the glittering blue between buildings, he gasps. So does Billy.)
They drive through the city, then out of it. Along a winding road with fewer and fewer buildings around, the ocean vast and terrifyingly endless to their right. Eventually Billy directs them down a gravel road that doesn’t have a sign and looks like it might lead onto private property. Steve would worry, would perhaps protest, if it wasn’t for the longing on Billy’s face.
They have to walk the last bit, Billy says. They get out of the car. It’s hours before noon, but it’s already warm. Steve’s in just a T-shirt, and for a second he his face to the sun to feel the warmth of it on his skin – before turning to Billy only to see him turned to the sun, too. Like a flower in bloom.
He looks golden, in this light.
After a short walk down a steep incline, they end up on a little beach. A tiny one, empty, with rocky outcrops on either side which makes it seem like they’re the only people on earth. The sand is fine and pale under their feet, the water lapping at the edges of it and then stretching out in front of them until it meets the horizon, far far away.
It’s beautiful. But it’s not exactly a house. And didn’t Billy say he’d show Steve his home?
“Mom used to take me here when I was a kid,” Billy says, kicking off his shoes. Steve does the same, and pulls off his socks as well. “We used to come here all the time.” Billy holds out his hand with a smile, and Steve takes it. They make their way to the water. “She’d watch me play in the water for hours, sitting on a towel, just listening to the waves and the seagulls.” The first step into the water is a shock – it’s cold, but not freezing. It almost feels alive. Steve takes a tentative step after Billy, bolstered by Billy’s widening smile. “I think taking me here was the most peaceful she ever got to be. It was for me, at least. The best times of my childhood.”
They stand there in the surf, feet in the water and holding hands, when Billy turns to Steve. His eyes are shining with unshed tears and his smile is wobbly as he places his hands on either sides of Steve’s face and leans in for the softest of kisses; their lips just barely brushing against each other.
“Thank you,” he says, and Steve’s heart skips a beat because it sounds like goodbye, “for not letting me stay buried in Indiana.”
He backs up a step. Brushes a tear from Steve’s cheek – that he hadn’t realized had fallen – and turns towards the endless sea. Takes a deep breath and starts walking.
Steve wants to reach out to stop him, wills himself to to say something, but he can’t. Somehow, he knows that this is where they were heading from the start. This is why they had to go here.
As Steve watches, Billy … dissolves. Like in a movie. One moment he is solid, and the next he’s … not. He turns to dust in front of Steve’s eyes, fine dust that glitters like gold in a sudden ray of sunlight. It – he – is spread out over the water, is carried over the clear surface by the gentle breeze.
Instead of being trapped in the ground inland, he becomes one with the waves again.
#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#sorry guys#canonical character death#got a scene stuck in my head and had to get it out#look at me keeping around the 2K mark!
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Food for thought for sub Boothill: wireplay!
Mechanic reader who helps with repairs all up inside him and maybe an update has him tingle each time they touch his wires, or graze his ports, or the potential opportunities 🤤
I only did minor researches about cyborgs to have a basic understanding, so most of the things I write down will be purely fiction. Also sorry that it turned out as angst instead of NSFW :(
Feel free to ask for a second part to make up for it
Warning: (a little) angst, we are screwing around
Boothill had hinted at the fact that he can’t feel with his mechanical body parts for a while now. For him, who has been like this for so long, one would think he had gotten used to it. Yet that wasn’t the case. Were you to ask him if it bothered him, he’d answer no without an ounce of hesitation. This used to be the truth, until he fell for you. In other words, if you were to ask him the same question now, the response would be much more heartbreaking.
To get a simple comparison, it was as if your body didn’t belong to you. Despite him technically being able to do anything, it felt as if he couldn’t at the same time. Serving as an echo and reminder of his hopelessness prior to gaining this body. It was only a small price to pay considering the sin he committed by being the sole survivor, his path of revenge was fuelled with nothing but pure rage. A second life, filled with endless possibilities, at the loss of his own humanity, not the worst of his sacrifices.
The most regrettable change he had to undergo was the loss of sensation. Everyday, a numbness that wouldn’t vanish engulfed him from the bottom to his shoulders, pretty much mirroring his inner emotions. How losing the sense of touch could throw one into a deep abyss of endless emptiness was unimaginable. To think this would have such a huge consequence on his psyche was unpredictable, he believed it wouldn’t come this far, since he still could feel from his shoulders up to his head. He was horribly wrong.
Whenever you embraced him, some kind of guilt mixed with adoration would eat away at him. Boothill craved your touch, more than that he wanted to feel your warmth when he hugs you, not just the cold iron. At the same time he wished you’d find someone else. Staying by his side would only bring problems, considering the high bounty on his head. You deserved it, you deserved so much better than this icy, robotic body of his. Sometimes his true thoughts would slip out and he’d accidentally tell you how it’s a pity he can’t feel anything. Soon after he’d chuckle and tell you not to worry about it, as well as how he’s grateful for his current life, since he’ll be able to carry out revenge this way.
You have long figured out his concerns, and no matter how you showered his body with love and affection, he only seemed to condemn himself more. This wasn’t something you could just accept like that, seeing your lover being so down caused you nothing but grief. Especially with the thought in mind that you couldn’t help him- no. That’s not true. You could if you wanted to, it’s never too late to learn new things. Besides you had a basic understanding of mechanics and things related to it, since it is a part of your work. Even if you had never done something this high-tech, it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Giving it a shot wouldn’t hurt no one, right?
After coming to such resolves, it got shaken again by your endless worries. You had no idea where to start, nor how a cyborg works. Besides the IPC is way more knowledgeable about this than you, so what’s the chance of success? How were you going to achieve that goal anyway? Uncountable amounts of questions flooded your mind, chasing away any traces of confidence you previously had. That’s when you reminded yourself as to why you wanted to do all of this in the first place. It’s all because of him, he wanted to feel, and who were you to refuse his request? Thus began your secret operation, to program a small device that works as a sensory aid. This took you so long that boothill also noticed you hiding something from him, yet he never asked, respecting your wish to keep it a secret.
One day, after you were sure that it was done and hundred precent safe, you mustered enough courage to present the idea to him. Your heart was in your hand while you explained it to him, on what exactly you would have to do as well as what this little piece of metal can do. With trembling hands, you held the small chip. It was only as big as a pingpong ball, yet it took you months to refine it to perfection. Suddenly breathing was like the most difficult task in the world, as well as speaking. Your breath was short and ragged as you stumbled over your words, trying your best to explain the situation. It was hard to believe you were suggesting the idea of doing modifications on your dear boyfriend.
Boothill was initially grinning, wondering what kind of present you got him. When he saw your nervous stutters and the gift in your hand, his expression loosened up a little, thus he was smiling meekly now. Without beating around the bush, he clasped his hand over yours, then said, “m’ mighty fine, ya’ do what ya’ want, no need to force it, aight?” His hand was cold like always, in contrary to you he didn’t quiver, simply because he couldn’t. Even so you knew this was very shocking to him, you noticed by the indescribable look on his face. There was his usual cheerful air, brave smirk and reassuring yet chaotic vibe. Though a hint of bitterness was hidden behind these layers.
Why? That’s what he wondered about. You spend all your free time on this, just for him, because he accidentally pitied it once or twice? Even though he appreciated the thoughts and efforts, he still felt bad. Yet there was something else too, scepticism. If this were to work, would things get better? Doubt, suspicion and most prominently fear engulfed him. What if it just doesn’t work? You must be so disappointed if that were the case. Or something might go wrong and he never gets the chance to hold you again, that would be way worse than his current fate. Frankly enough, he is already grateful to have a place to call home again, which is why he doesn’t want to be too greedy.
You nodded, then said, “I want to try, okay?” He saw your determination, so he had to reason to refuse you, giving you a smile as he replied, “don’t mess me up too much, darling.” After getting his consent, you made him lie down on the working bench. If he didn’t knew any better, it almost felt like you were a doctor. You started with removing his cover, using a cordless screwdriver to get rid of the metal plates on his torso. This way you can access his central parts and inner systems. Operating on a human being was stressing, especially because it was someone dear to you too. It took you a while until you properly understood his body and how everything worked, many wires were placed everywhere, so many that it confused you. There were also artificial bones to help stabilise and protect the wires as well as countless devices, similar to the task of real bones. Some kind of blue liquid was being pumped to his heart, keeping it alive. You found many chips for various purposes, yours in contrary looked like a joke. This was overwhelming at first, but after studying him for a bit, you came to understand most of it.
Behind his pelvis was his oil tank, with the energy conversion device being right next to it. It was connected to every single part of his body, since it was the machine delivering energy through every wire. There were also many other human-like parts; an artificial lung, an oxygen cylinder to store the air needed to keep the brain alive, an artificial stomach which was more like a storage for bullets. The department that you needed the most was behind his chest, where his motor for motion skills are. It was located alongside a few other big systems. If you could somehow connect the control system with your little chip there, then he might be able to turn on or off the sensor at free will. No doubt it was a bold gamble, but you were willing to try.
After hours of endless finger-work, to the point sweat was dripping down your chin, you finally managed to attach the device to the right place. A total of 52 tiny wires were needed to properly connect everything, the last thing you had to do was to reattach his covers. Before moving on to that part, you tapped your self made chip gently, wondering if he would be able to feel anything already. During the entire time you were working and basically experimenting on him, Boothill stayed quiet, not wanting to disrupt you. Though this time, he let out an irritated gasp, “huh.” It was strange, something wasn’t quite right. That means you did manage to make modifications to his body, the question is if it’s a good thing. “Boothill, are you alright?” You asked him immediately, worried that you made things worse. “Shucks cutie, m’fine, I’m not that frail.” Once again he retorted to his usual fun demeanour.
It wasn’t a lie, he was fine, but that doesn’t mean nothing happened. Though he didn’t know how to describe it neither. Somehow it felt like electricity was send to his brain, stimulating his nerves. The sensation he just experienced… it was weird yet familiar. Could it be whatever you did worked? Was that bizarre sensation the sense of touch? It’s been so long, he doesn’t know nor remember anymore. “I’m done, can you see if you can turn it on?” You said hesitantly, almost sounding as unsure as him. Boothill looked through his system, and there has indeed been a new feature unlocked. He downloaded it swiftly, a little on edge as he waited. 98%…99%… and done. “How do you feel?” The anticipation in your voice was as clear as day. This was the most intense part of your operation after all, it was if it bore fruition.
“I really don’t feel a difference.” He told you honestly, his brows furrowed. It seems he also kind of hoped for it to work, guess his expectations were too high. Your heart sank, all this work for nothing. In an instant, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest. With a disappointed and guilty tone, you spoke, “I’m sorry, I made you go through all that for nothing.” Then you held his iron hand tightly, as if to apologise to him. As soon as your skin made contact with him, his hand twitched and he pulled it back. A dumbfounded look was on your face along with the grief. When you stared at him, totally confused, you noticed his face heat up. “Boothill…?”
“Your hand’s warm.” He stated, lips slightly parted which revealed his sharp teeth. “What?” You didn’t quite catch the meaning behind his words, hence the question. Boothill sit up very abruptly and pointed a finger to his body, “touch m’ here.” Despite you not understanding the situation, you obliged anyway, tapping his torso with your index finger. “It worked!” The cyborg stated, blinking a few times in awe. “My forking goodness, this shirt works.” “You mean…?” Your own eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. It worked? Your little amateur operation there? “It worked.” You had to repeat those words that seemed so unfamiliar in your mouth.
The realisation hit you, your hard work payed off and it wasn’t unnecessary. In an instand you pulled that man into a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him tightly. “Hey now, don’t squeeze me so suddenly mother-fudger, hahaha.” Boothill laughed, returning your embrace immediately. This feeling was what he subconsciously missed. For the first time in years, he could feel the warmth of another. He can feel it when something is touching him, when you are caressing him so gently.
Even though first and foremost he looks unbothered, only happy about this new function, he was deeply shaken by it. His bottom lip trembled due to the overwhelming emotions swirling around inside him. If he could cry, he would. Partly because he’s so grateful for your deeds, also because feeling so many stimulations when he literally couldn’t for years is a bit overwhelming. It wasn’t bad though, your hug felt so nice. To think the first thing he gets to feel after being senseless all these years is not anything fighting related, but the soft feeling of your tender embrace. How lucky he was. If he dared to be a little more selfish, then he’d wish this moment could last forever.
#AHHHH IDK IF ITS GOOD T^T#boothill x you#honkai boothill#boothill star rail#boothill honkai star rail#boothill x reader#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#boothill#boothill x y/n
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- officer
hamzah x reader
18+ MINORS DNI
contains: cop hamzah, oral (male recieving), sort of a public setting
first thing that came to my mind i’m so sorry and i truly hope you guys read allat i was really working my brain for this
a siren wails.
it’s pitch black outside, except for the blue and red lights now flashing behind you. you’re driving down a deserted road between two large fields.
“what the fuck?” you whisper to yourself. the last thing you expected was to come across a cop out here, after you specifically took some alternate backroad route home from the party you traveled half an hour to get to.
you didn’t drink, you didn’t smoke, you weren’t under the influence of anything. hell, you even had work in just a few hours, since it was already far past midnight. you were responsible enough to stay away from anything like that, no matter what you were offered by the other guests.
sure, you were a little tired, and it may be affecting your driving, but it’s nothing harmful. you knew no one else would be out here this late.
the sharp knocks on the glass make you jump.
slamming the button to roll down your window, the erratic explanation begins before it’s even fully lowered.
“i didn’t do anything, im just trying to go home, i promise! i’m not speeding, well, i don’t think i am. but.. there’s no problems! oh god, i’m so sorry, i’ve never been pulled over before, officer..”
you trail off as you turn your head and lock your eyes with his. your lips part, a small gasp escaping.
to your surprise, you actually recognize the man leaning against your car, shining a small flashlight into your eyes.
officer al-emad, the cop who comes into your work everyday. you take his order each morning, an iced americano. he tells you to write hamzah on his cup, but you write officer anyway. you exchange glances throughout this daily ritual, fleeting eye contact that makes your heart flutter.
“i know you,” he says, breaking into a smile.
“i know you.” you repeat, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously.
“what’re you doing out so late, huh? they got me out here working this weird shift all night, that’s why i come to you each morning.” he says.
you blink, struggling to comprehend him for a moment before it dawns on you.
“oh,” you laugh anxiously. “for coffee, yeah. sorry, i just..” you shake your head, not really understanding what’s going on right now. are you dreaming?
“did i do something wrong, sir?”
“well, uh,” he chuckles. “you’re kinda drifting all over the road. have you had anything to drink?”
“oh.” you press your lips together in a thin line. “no, i haven’t, i promise.”
“okay,” he says with a nod, but his expression is unsure. he doesn’t believe you just yet. “you mind stepping out for me?”
“yeah, okay. um, i mean, no. i don’t mind.”
you fumble with the seatbelt, getting it unbuckled hastily as the officer, hamzah, steps out of the way and opens the car door for you.
you step out, momentarily forgetting the fact that you have heels on. the unstable gravel road you step onto causes your ankle to give out, making you stumble forward.
straight into the officer’s arms.
his fingers grip the material of your thin, flowy dress when he catches you. you can’t help but notice the way he grabbed you so effortlessly, his muscles flexing against your skin as he stands you up straight again.
“you good?” he asks, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk. after you nod, he holds up his flashlight once more. “here, follow this with your eyes for me.” he clicks the button, turning the light on.
“you’re not actually going to arrest me, are you?”
the question slips out, and you mentally smack yourself upside the head.
“jesus, um, i can’t answer that yet. i’m just gonna have you do a test or two, yeah?” he explains quickly, darting the flashlight back and forth as you trail it with your eyes.
your cheeks flush, you can practically feel his gaze piercing you.
“well, vision looks good. um, let me show you something, actually.” he tilts his head toward the back of your car.
“hm?” your brows knit together in confusion.
“c’mere,” he says, walking over to and leaning on your trunk. you follow closely behind.
“see that?” he points to your taillight. “broken.”
“oh, shit,” you groan. plain as day, the light is completely shattered. “how did that happen?”
he shrugs. “not sure, but it’s pretty nasty looking. and , i could have you fined for something like this, you know.”
your eyes widen at the mention of anything to do with spending. your shitty job doesn’t give you much. “god, i couldn’t pay that, i really couldn’t.” you mutter. “i don’t have any extra money for something like this.”
you blow out an exasperated breath, shaking your head in disbelief as you walk over to the side of the road, staring out at the massive cornfield illuminated by the soft moonlight. you cross your arms, thinking of ways you can get out of this whole situation. you really are broke, you couldn’t financially deal with a stupid taillight.
“hey, it’s alright.” he says. his shadow looms behind you in the glow of his car’s police lights. “we can work something out.”
“why are you out here anyways?” you turn to look at him, your shoulders rising and falling as you let out another harsh sigh. “there’s absolutely nothing going on out here.”
he holds his hands up in mock surrender. “just sergeant’s orders. he’s worried about situations like this, actually. people using the backroads this late.”
he pauses.
“but you’re good, right?”
something about his tone changed with that last sentence.
“huh?”
he clears his throat. “i mean, ive seen you. you’re sweet.” his voice sounds lower, more curious. “you wouldn’t do anything bad on purpose, no?”
“no, i wouldn’t, officer.”
you realize the power you could have in this situation. seeing the way you’re making him intrigued right now, you know that it could be taken further.
you step closer, speaking softly.
“yeah, it was a mistake, i didn’t mean to lose focus. i’m glad you stopped me, hamzah.”
you meet his eyes, pouting your lips slightly. hesitantly, you reach up, trailing your fingers across his chest and feeling the fabric of his uniform. you swipe your thumb across his shiny badge.
“no.. no. c’mon. don’t do this.”
he shudders underneath your touch. your fingertips continue to dance their way across his skin, and he allows it.
“do what?”
your hand reaches his belt, and you pause before going any further.
“whatever you think you’re doing.” he whispers.
“what do you think i’m doing, sir?”
“trying to- oh, fuck.”
you brush your hand across his crotch. the groan that erupts from his chest makes you weak in the knees.
“look around, hamzah. there’s darkness for miles. why don’t you take a break from being a cop for once?” you try to convince him in a sweet whisper.
he looks around, scanning the eerily empty street. he meets your eyes once more.
he nods.
apparently, police officers do accept bribes.
when you begin to sink down onto your knees, he mutters “jesus,” and gently pushes on your shoulder to urge you to the ground faster. your knees hit the cold grass.
he undoes his belt, letting it fall to the ground with a startling clatter.
you unzip his pants, watching his face carefully as you palm him through his boxers. he looks a little conflicted, but once his bulge quickly turns into a hard-on, a twisted look of pleasure takes over.
“can i, hamzah?” you tug at his waistband.
“please.” he rasps, leaning against your car for support.
his erection springs out, making your eyes grow wide. you’re unsure of what you were expecting, but he’s big.
he smooths his hand over your hair, then moves down to cup your face and tilt it up towards him.
“you can take it, sweetheart.” he urges. his words captivate you, hold you hostage.
“thought about this so much, y’know. every time i see you.” he admits, brushing his thumb across your skin.
this had to be the very last thing you expected him to say.
every day, when you sneak a glance at him while you brew his coffee, this is what he’s thinking of?
fuck.
your fingers delicately wrap around the base of his cock, his tip already glistening with a ridiculous amount of precum.
slowly, you begin to stroke him, and the noises that he produces are downright heavenly. crickets chirp and the moon glows across his skin.
“s’good?” you whisper, barely able to hear yourself.
“yeah, yeah. keep going.”
you press a kiss to his tip, your lips becoming glossed with the sticky fluid. kitten-licking his length, you earn more beautiful moans out of him.
“need your mouth.” he gasps, running a hand through his own hair while he uses his other to pull yours into a makeshift ponytail.
it doesn’t take you much convincing.
you part your lips, sliding his cock between them. he lets out the most animalistic, raw, desperate groan you’ve ever heard. you force yourself to look up at him, seeing his jaw dropped, watching your mouth adjust to being full of him.
beginning to work him with your mouth, sucking him off, his hips start to buck forward uncontrollably and force himself further. he can’t restrain himself, you feel too good.
your eyes immediately water when his tip comes into contact with the back of your throat.
amidst all his trembling whines, he wipes away a stray tear that trickles down your cheek. “so good, angel. feels so fucking good. don’t, mmh, don’t stop,”
all you can muster in response is a low, muffled moan.
he’s completely fascinated with the sight of his dick disappearing into your mouth, his hand subconsciously traveling to the back of your head. he applies a gentle, barely noticeable pressure, trying to bury himself deeper.
your eyes squeeze shut as you hollow out your cheeks, feeling every detail and vein of his length in your mouth.
“fucking incredible,” he praises. “gonna make me finish so f-fucking fast,”
he’s not wrong, his dick is already twitching. you gag and sputter when he slides especially deep, but you don’t let it deter you. the gorgeous, sinful noises that he’s making are enough to keep you going.
you feel a sharp tug on your hair, forcing your head back and releasing him from your mouth. you cough and gasp, glancing up at him with glossy eyes. hamzah’s cheeks are perfectly flushed, his chest heaving.
“wanna get a good look at you, pretty girl.”
he reaches down to stroke himself, and you instinctively stick your tongue out. he rests his tip on your tongue, throwing his head back as he pushes himself to release.
his deep moans echo throughout the empty road beautifully, and you watch in awe as his pleasure finally peaks. he completely loses control, his body trembling as his cum shoots out and paints your throat.
“take it all, sweetheart.”
you swallow the unfamiliar taste of his seed, showing him your empty mouth after. he offers a hand to help you up.
“fucking amazing,” he whispers.
you softly smile, your throat all raw and your mouth sore. “only for my favorite officer.”
———
p.s i hope this meets your standards lol i was rushing to get this done
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long distance situationship
pairing. fem!reader x vinsmoke sanji.
summary. you yearn for a certain blond pirate to come back home to baratie.
contains. fluffy angst, comfort at the end, whole cake island spoilers, told from the reader’s pov.
word count. 1.1k.
note. i really adore sanji and zeff's familial bond.
the loud commotion from your workmates inside the cramped kitchen of baratie draws you away from your dish plating.
“it’s here!”
“let me see! let me see!”
“how much is it this time?”
“i bet he tried his best to look cool. he looks like an idiot with the last one,” patty who’s next to you whispers down on your ear. he wipes his hand with a kitchen towel, a fond smile on his lips.
you laugh quietly at him.
“eh? what’s this?!”
you lift your head, a tad surprised. carne’s shrieks sound too shell-shocked for someone who claims over and over again that he doesn’t care at all about sanji.
“the bastard is a vinsmoke?!”
at that exact moment, zeff enters the room. his wooden leg clicking against the kitchen floor, effectively silencing the gasps of surprise of his workers.
“figures,” he quips after gaining everybody’s attention. “what’s the boy’s bounty now?”
“it’s 330 million berries,” carne announces, raising sanji’s wanted poster up in the air. his other hand grasping the rest of the newspaper. “they still used his old photo, though.”
“that perverted face of his again?”
you let out a small giggle and everybody turns their heads to you. as if with one accord, they all smile knowingly. even zeff, the baratie’s owner, appears thoughtful.
the kitchen suddenly feels warmer than usual.
“his photo isn’t so bad,” you mumble, trying to brush off their teasing looks.
“says the girl who collects his wanted posters before owner zeff can,” patty chimes in. you have this crazy urge to scream at him for exposing you like this until carne clears his throat, reading the newspaper article out loud.
“it says: ‘the vinsmoke and charlotte families entered into a political alliance via marriage between the third vinsmoke son, sanji, and the 35th charlotte daughter, pudding’.”
oh.
patty, zeff, as well as the others, wince when they hear carne’s announcement. you’re grateful they don’t say anything more about the matter, but you don’t give them time to say something anyway, since you’re already turning your back and resuming your work.
“say no more,” you hear zeff say to carne. “i believe sanji wouldn’t marry someone so easily. at least, without my approval.”
something heavy lodges in your throat right then. you mutter a cryptic excuse, weaving your way outside the kitchen doors and rushing to the safety of the girl’s restroom before anyone else can grab a hold of you.
anyone who works in baratie knows about your little infatuation. they’re not against it, but they’re not extremely supportive of it either. it’s just… it’s sanji that you’re head over heels with.
sanji who plays it cool and thinks before he acts.
sanji who deeply cares for almost everyone in baratie.
sanji who respects food more than anything else.
sanji whose only fault is that he’s borderline crazy when it comes to women.
you know exactly how crazy and submissive he is with women.
you aren’t an exception to that rule either. he proved that to you one late night as you both wash the rest of dishes after closing baratie.
he said a lady shouldn’t soak her hands in dishwashing soap for a long time, that you should let him do the rest. to which you only bumped his shoulder, joking that if he treats you the same way he treats his female customers, you’d feel somewhat special.
and his response?
‘you are special. and to me, you’re extra special.’
it might seem normal for him to compliment a woman, but you, on the other hand, are not used to it. growing up with nothing but irresponsible men around you, it’s only tough love that you’ve ever known.
that’s when you start to see sanji in a different light, with the intention to suppress it for as long as you could simply because you’re terrified of your own feelings.
you’re terrified of your feelings not being reciprocated.
although somehow, it has become an unspoken deal between you and sanji.
you start to seek each other’s company when your designated rooms feel too cold and lonely at night. you start to catch each other’s eyes during work hours, over tens of long kitchen counters, and smile shyly as you avert your gazes. you even start becoming touchy, leaning your body against him when he wants you to try some of his cooking, and while he’s shaking with exhilaration, he doesn’t make a huge scene out of it in hopes you two won’t be found out by zeff.
you start to get this fuzzy feeling the two of you are finally onto something.
but, as fate would have it, sanji got recruited by a man named luffy, claiming that he needs the best cook out there if he’s going to be the king of pirates.
and who are you to hold sanji back?
you kept your mouth shut as he told you his final decision, tucking away your own selfish desire to not let him go. you patted his shoulder, bravely smiling that he should follow his heart and see where it takes him. and he gave you one of his boyish grins, whispering thank you for being so understanding.
you promised yourself back then that you wouldn’t be the very reason who would break that smile.
you close your eyes and lean back against the restroom door, reminding yourself that he's still in the process of chasing after his dream — his childhood dream. after all that, he will be back in baratie in no time.
you just didn’t think you would find his name on the news with the word ‘marriage’ attached to it, that’s all.
a gentle rap at the door knocks you back to your senses.
“there are customers waiting to be served,” comes zeff’s soft warning. “forget that shitty kid. you deserve better.”
you snort. even if he says those harsh words at sanji, it’s still laced with fatherly affection. the impression brings a soft smile to your face.
“hey, owner zeff,” you begin. it seems that speaking with a thick door in between you and your employer helps. “do you think… do you think he’ll come back?”
“hmp. do you really think he won’t? the boy might be stupid but he’s not stupid enough to forget where his heart is.”
his words make you feel a hundred times lighter. “so baratie is where his heart is?”
the silence stretches on from the other side of the door you’d think zeff has already walked away. until he says with a warm voice, “you are where that boy’s heart is.”
stealing, modifying, translating, or reposting this work on other platforms is strictly discouraged.
#own post#one piece imagine#one piece fluff#one piece angst#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece x y/n#vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke sanji imagine#vinsmoke sanji fluff#vinsmoke sanji angst#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x you#vinsmoke sanji x y/n#sanji#sanji fluff#sanji angst#sanji x reader#sanji x you#sanji x y/n
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Hiiiiii!!!! I love Apple Pie by Lizzy McAlpine!! Can I get Jamie Tartt to apple pie?
apple pie | jamie tartt
based on the song apple pie by lizzy mcalpine
description: jamie gets insecure sometimes, but having you with him helps.
pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (f!reader she/her)
warnings: lots of kissing, self-doubt, insecurities, mention of jamie's dad
word count: 2631
ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist
When Jamie first got into a relationship with you, he knew that both of your busy schedules would pose a problem down the road. With his football career seemingly reaching new peaks every season and your acting career taking off after being cast in what is being called “the film that revived the dying genre of romantic comedies,” the amount of time you get to spend with each other decreased significantly since the start of your relationship.
You first met Jamie halfway through his returning season at AFC Richmond. You met him at a birthday dinner party for a friend of a friend where you relentlessly teased him for his ridiculous, but outstanding performance, on Lust Conquers All. You had originally praised him for it when you were fully under the impression that he was putting on an act. You didn’t find out that he was just being his prick-ish self, albeit his younger prick-ish self, until about four months into your relationship when he embarrassedly admitted it to you. That’s how you found yourself rewatching the entire season together on his couch until 2 hours before Roy knocked on his door for his training session.
At first, Jamie thought you were making fun of him. His insecurities would still peek in here and there and sometimes he couldn’t help but worry that you’d see him as nothing more than a dumb footballer like everyone else does. He quickly realized, though, that while you were losing your mind laughing at how he acted in the show, making fun of him was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Why’d ya wanna watch this shit anyways?” he grumbled, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. “It’s just poopy. ‘M not even like that anymore.”
“I know,” you sat up, pausing the show when you heard his voice crack. You knew the tone of Jamie’s voice when he was cracking jokes and when he was happy, and this voice wasn’t one or the other. You turned your body to face him, “I know you aren’t like this anymore, I just thought it would be funny.”
“I dunno, I suppose it doesn’t make much sense to me.”
“What doesn’t?” you questioned. “Why I want to watch it?”
“Yeah,” Jamie replied. His eyes were looking at everything but at you. He was playing with the threads of the blanket loosely draped over his legs. He rubbed his nose with his balled-up fist. “Why does it matter how I was before you? I’m better now, yeah? Unless you don’t think so...”
“Oh, love,” you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. You were so engrossed in the episode on the TV that you didn’t realize how uncomfortable Jamie was feeling about the whole situation. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention to how you were feeling about this. We can stop watching it.”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He hummed, tugging on your hoodie to pull you closer to him. “I just don’t want you to see how I used to be and realize you don’t want to be with a prick like that, even if I have changed, you know? I don’t know… I just thought that with ya, I’d have a fresh start.”
“Jamie Tartt, enough of that now,” You took over being the big spoon, which made Jamie nuzzle into your neck contently, “You have changed. You’re an amazing man and the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. I only wanted to watch this show because it’s such a shitty show that it’s nice to just unwind. When I watch this Jamie on the screen, my brain can’t even comprehend that it’s you.”
“You don’t think I’m a prick anymore, yeah?” Jamie asked again, hoping that he’d get a confirmation, “Like you wouldn’t leave me over that?”
You’ve learned over the past few months things about Jamie– one of which is that he needs to be told positive things or else he’d spiral. The thing is, if you could go into his mind and turn off that control box that spews self-doubt and insecurities to him, you would do it in a heartbeat. But since you can’t, you were more than happy to shower him with love and adoration in hopes that your voice can drown the rest of them out.
“Never,” you placed your lips on his in a soft kiss. “You’d have to work a hell of a lot harder to get rid of me.”
“I’m working double overtime just so you’d keep me, love,” he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss. His hand reached for the remote to turn the TV off to leave you both in the glow of the floor lamp in his living room.
“You don’t have to work hard for that.”
Jamie had gotten used to having you around his flat. He would leave for 4 AM training with Roy with you on his bed, often naked, then return at around 6:30 AM to shower and join you back in bed for another hour before you woke up. He’d wake up for the second time that day with you drawing patterns on his chest and a soft smile on your face. He’d lean over and place a loving kiss on your lips and he’d feel prepared to start the day.
You were filming a show in London for three months, which meant that for three months, this was Jamie’s life. In between projects, you stayed at his place. For two weeks after the wrap party, you came home to him, visited him at the facility, and went to all the team outings, home games, and away games with him. He was with you 24/7 and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t realize how he took it for granted until filming ended.
Three weeks ago, you flew to New York City to begin filming another movie. With training and games, Jamie hasn’t been able to take time off to visit you, and with filming just starting, you couldn’t fly back to Richmond either.
Jamie was doing fine– as fine as someone can be when their daily routine was abruptly disrupted. He was proud of you. The premise of the movie seemed perfect for you and was a seamless continuation of the romantic comedy trend you were on. People were buzzing for your next project, especially after your last one was so well received. He was so proud of you…. But he also missed you.
During the three weeks that you were gone, you and Jamie still texted each other constantly and FaceTimed everyday, despite the crazy time difference. He wanted to make it work, and so did you, so you did what you could to stay in touch. While not being able to hold you and kiss you for three weeks was killing Jamie, he was glad he was still able to spend time with you. Things didn’t get to Jamie until Jan Maas made an off-handed comment about it.
All of them were packing up after training, feeling extremely antsy with the Man City match on the horizon, Jamie especially. There were a lot of things on his mind, including the possibility of seeing his father, who he hadn’t seen since Wembley, and playing against his old team was always a trip. In short, he wasn’t feeling his best and the fact that you weren’t nearby made it worse.
“Jamie, we have not seen Y/N in a while,” Sam noted, “Is everything okay with you two?”
“She’s filming a movie in New York, bruv,” Isaac replied before Jamie could speak, “Right, Tartt?”
Jamie nodded, putting his shirt over his head, “Yeah. She’ll be gone for a few months, at least.”
“I do not know how you’re gonna survive, Jamie,” Jan Maas said. “You are so clingy when it comes to her. I don’t think you can make it all those months.”
The rest of the team chuckled at Jan’s teasing tone, but Jamie furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Was he clingy? He frowned as he continued to put his things away. He picked up his phone from his cubby, smiling when he received a few messages from you while he was at training. As he was about to respond, Jan’s comment made him stop in his tracks.
Maybe it would be best to let you have a night to yourself. You had a life outside of him and you deserve to be able to live it without having him cling to you all the time. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, slipping his phone in his back pocket, before walking out of the locker room to head to his place.
When you woke up to no text from Jamie, you assumed that he was just worn out from training and didn’t have the energy to reply. You’ve seen the intense training he went through, so you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. But as the day went on and there was still no word from Jamie– you’d even checked the timezone clock on your phone to make sure you weren’t being unreasonable– you began to worry. FaceTime calls went unanswered and instead, you were met with the Apple automated response, “Sorry, can’t talk right now.”
To: lover boy <3
“Hi, love. Got some exciting news, you free to chat? Xx”
By the time you were boarding the plane to Manchester, Jamie still hadn’t texted you back. After begging the producers to give you a week off filming, they finally agreed. You asked for this week in particular, knowing that you wanted to be there for Jamie for the Man City match. There was a lot on the line for Jamie and you wanted to be there for him no matter what happened.
The entire plane ride back to England was filled with dread and anxiety. It wasn’t like Jamie to not respond. Unless he was at a game, training, or sleeping, but even then he had a special ringtone for you that wakes him up whenever you called, he always replied to your messages as soon as possible. When you landed, everything that could go wrong went wrong. Your plane was stuck on the tarmac for an hour because there were problems with the gate. Your luggage got delayed which left you sitting at baggage claim for another 45 minutes. When you finally arrived at the hotel the team was staying at– shoutout to Ted for being yours and Jamie’s number one supporter and telling you where they were staying– Jamie was nowhere to be found.
You dragged your luggage to Jamie’s room, plopping on the bed tiredly. You glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 9:28 PM. Ted mentioned that there was a 10 PM curfew so you hoped that tonight was not one of the nights where Jamie decided to break the rules. Ted also mentioned that Jamie has not been himself lately, which did nothing to soothe your panic. You hopped in the shower to rinse yourself from the long day you’ve had. You did your night routine and dug into Jamie’s bag to retrieve his AFC Richmond hoodie. Before putting it on, you held it up to your nose, sighing as your senses were filled with Jamie. You missed him.
It was 9:57 PM when you heard the door unlock. You were on his bed, scrolling aimlessly on social media, when you saw him. You sat up, shutting your phone off. He walked in with his head low. His shoulders were hunched over a bit, but he looked okay. He looked better than how Ted described him.
He kicked off his shoes, before looking at you on his bed, startled. His eyes widened, first in fear that there was someone in his room, then in surprise that it was you in his room. His lips curved down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in sadness.
“Baby,” you whispered, moving to the side of the bed to make room for him.
Jamie knew that he needed to not be clingy. He didn’t want to bother you too much. He was trying to be cool. But when you called him “baby,” with that voice, in his hoodie on his bed, his resolve crumbled to pieces.
He ran to you, nearly tackling you off the bed when he engulfed you in his arms. He buried his face in your neck, a mix of your lotion and the cologne he sprays on his clothes surrounding him. You cradled the back of his head, mumbling how much you missed him into his shoulder. Jamie could cry. He hasn’t seen you in so long, but here you are now.
“What are you doing here?” He asked when he finally pulled away from you. He couldn’t stray too far though. His arm was still wrapped around you while you cuddled into his side. “I thought you were in New York.”
“Well, if you bothered to answer my texts,” you trailed off, faking a voice of sadness. You poked his side, “You would’ve seen that I had exciting news. The producers gave me a week off after begging them since I first got to New York and this week is perfect because I know tomorrow’s match is gonna be a lot for you. I wanted to be here for you, whatever the outcome is.”
“Oh.” Jamie was speechless. Here he was ignoring you like a prick while you were planning to come back just to be here for him. He didn’t deserve you.
“Yeah,” you continued, “If tomorrow we celebrate, I’ll be here making sure that you drink enough water so that your hangover the next day won’t be too much. If tomorrow we try to never think about it again, I’ll sit next to you on the bus in silence holding your hand and when we get home we can do the same thing.”
Home. You were here and he felt like he was home.
“I missed you so much,” Jamie sighed. He kissed you all over your face, giving your lips extra attention. “‘M sorry if I was bothering you by texting and calling so much over the last few weeks… I just missed you loads and I wanted to talk to you.”
“Baby, you didn’t text and call me enough,” you played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. “If it was possible, I would stay on a call with you all day, everyday. Can’t get enough of ya.”
He smiled, his worries disappearing with every word you said, “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah, I love you, Jamie Tartt.” You kissed him deeply. “Couldn’t get tired of you even after a million years. Now, catch me up! Tell me everything.”
Jamie, feeling like himself again, began to tell you everything you missed over the last few weeks– meeting Sam’s father, meeting Ted’s mum, Roy and Keeley, and seeing his mum earlier that night, which is why he came home late. He talked about how a visit to Georgie and Simon helped lift his spirits, and how Georgie was gushing about you and asking him when you’ll come to visit again.
Then he talked about his fears for tomorrow and everything that’s been piling up on him ever since you left. As he spoke, you rubbed his back comfortingly, a small reminder that you’ll always be here no matter what.
Jamie knew that he still had a lot of work to do. He knew that his insecurities could get the best of him sometimes and it can cause him to push back on people who love and care about him, but he was trying. You believed in him and that’s all he needed.
#ted lasso fics#ted lasso#ted lasso imagines#ted lasso imagine#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt fanfic#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt x yn#jamie tartt oneshot#frances writes#frances song fics
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one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr;8 mile
word count: 3481
request?: no
description: she’s always been viewed as just “one of the guys” despite having feelings for one of her friends, and now it’s looking likely that she’s going to lose him to the wannabe model
pairing: jimmy smith jr. x female!reader
warnings: swearing, pining
masterlist (one, two, three)
I had known Jimmy and Future since we were a bunch of snot nosed kids causing trouble on the playground in elementary school. Cheddar Bob was next, having followed us around like a lost puppy until we finally adopted him. Iz and Sol joined our little group in high school, and then we were complete.
For as long as I had known the guys, they considered me to be...well, one of the guys. Even after I went through puberty and actually started looking like a girl, I was still just one of the guys. It didn’t bother me for the most part. When you’re a kid, it doesn’t really matter if you’re a boy or a girl. We all played the same, caused trouble the same. But when we hit puberty, I found myself not liking being considered “one of the guys” anymore.
Especially when I realized I had feelings for Jimmy.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved being a part of the friend group and I couldn’t ask for a better set of friends. What I definitely could ask for, though, was for those friends to recognize I was a woman and treat me as such. Namely, I wished Jimmy would realize that.
One Friday evening, just like every Friday evening, I had just pulled into my driveway and was walking up to my front door when I heard another car pulling up behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Future.
“Get your ass changed, we’re going out!” he called.
“Future, I just got home,” I said.
“So?”
“So maybe I don’t want to go out with you chuckle fucks after I just worked an eight hour shift.”
“We both know that’s not the truth.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. He was right, I did want to go out. We went out every Friday night. It was a group tradition at this point. If I was seriously turning it down, there’d have to be something wrong with me.
“Give me 10 minutes,” I told Future before slipping into my house to change.
I was in and out in less time than I told him. I just changed out of my work clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt, and was ready to go again. I got into the passenger seat of Future’s car and he didn’t even wait for me to buckle myself in before he was backing out of my driveway and driving off to get the others.
“I fear for my life every time I get in the car with you,” I joked as I managed to buckle my seatbelt.
“Well, lucky for you, Jimmy agreed to drive tonight. His car can hold more people anyways.”
“Who else is going with us?”
“Just the usual.”
I looked over at Future in confusion. His tone definitely made me think there was someone else coming along for the night, but it seemed he wasn’t going to tell me. I couldn’t figure out who could possibly be joining us that Future wouldn’t want to tell me about beforehand.
We pulled into the trailer park and parked next to Jimmy’s car. Jimmy was exiting his trailer before we were even out of the car, as usual. Jimmy was usually waiting for us to show up and would be itching to leave his mom’s place as soon as he could. Jimmy gave Future one of their high five hugs, and patted me on the shoulder. It was just a step up from me also getting a high five hug, but not by much.
We got into Jimmy’s car, all three of us in the front. We started for Iz and Sol first, then Cheddar Bob. Once the car was full it was nothing but noise as each of the guys was talking over one another with Jimmy’s radio blaring as extra noise.
“How was work, by the way?” Jimmy asked me over the current argument between Future and Sol.
“Same bullshit as always,” I responded.
“I guess we should be lucky you even agreed to come out with us after working all day, meanwhile all we do is sit on our asses like a bunch of bums.”
I playfully nudged his shoulder. “Hey, you work, too.”
“I wouldn’t consider the Stamping work.”
I chuckled. I noticed then that we weren’t headed for the club. “Where are we going?”
“To pick up Alex.”
I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I looked over at Future. I couldn’t tell if he was actually deep in conversation with Iz or if he was just ignoring me. So this was who was joining us that he didn’t want to tell me about.
Alex.
She was a girl Jimmy had met at his work. She was a model apparently, or was trying to be one. Jimmy didn’t talk about her much, but the other guys didn’t waste a single moment in teasing him about her. It didn’t take a genius to realize he liked her.
Alex was waiting as Jimmy pulled up. She was wearing her usual mini skirt so short that you could basically see everything whenever she moved. It made me feel very self conscious about my choice in jeans.
Future opened the door and got out.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked. I already knew the answer and hoped he’d see the look of begging on my face.
“I’ll get in the back with the idiots,” he said. “I’d assume Alex will be more comfortable pressed up against you instead of Sol.”
“Yo, fuck you!” Sol snapped.
I hoped my clenched jaw would go unnoticed as Alex slid into the seat next to me. Her eyes immediately went to Jimmy and they shared a smile that made me wish I could throw myself from the moving car.
We got to the club and piled into our usual table while Future got the first round of shots. Cheddar Bob and Iz were sat on one end, I was in the middle, Jimmy and Alex were sat next to me, and Sol had pulled up a chair. When Future returned, he slid in next to Cheddar Bob. The table chorused with cheers as we held up our shots then shot them back.
I tried to play it cool, but having to sit next to Alex and Jimmy while they were flirting up a storm was making me more tense by the minute. When Sol offered to get the next round of drinks, I jumped to give him the money to buy me two of the strongest drinks he could for me. I downed the first one quickly, but took my time with the second. It didn’t take long for the shot and the first drink to kick in. My head was spinning and I felt care free and light as air.
At some point, when the drinks had hit me hard enough, I shoved against Iz’s shoulder and said (or rather slurred), “Hey, can you guys move? I gotta pee.”
“Yo, go the other way,” Future said. “There’s three of us here and only two on your other side.”
“You’re gonna break the dam this early in the night?” Sol asked. “You may as well sit on the end when you come out. You’ll be back and forth for the next few hours.”
“Look, I don’t care who moves and I don’t care where I sit when I come back, I just have to pee now.”
“Here, we’ll move,” Jimmy said.
He and Alex moved out of the booth and allowed me to get out. When I stood, I realized just how drunk I already was as I almost immediately lost my balance. I felt someone grab hold of me as the rest of the table chorused in laughter at my drunkenness. When I looked up, it was Jimmy that had taken hold of me. I smiled at him and he smiled back.
“I’m getting you water when you come back,” he said. “And you gotta pace yourself.”
“You’re always looking out for me,” I said. “You’re such a good friend.”
I put emphasis on the friend for my own benefit, but there was also some level of petty in the word. A reminder for both of us that that was the only way he saw me: as a friend. One of the guys that he went out drinking with every weekend, that he smoked with in the basement of someone’s house, that he ran around Detroit with causing mayhem since we were tykes.
I saw a look flash across his face that I couldn’t quite decipher, but I assumed I was just seeing things in my drunken haze.
I managed to make it to the bathroom on my own without incident. Once I was safely inside of a stall, I was able to sit down again. I almost didn’t want to get up and go back out to the table. Sitting was safe. The world didn’t spin when I was sat down. But I also couldn’t be sat on the toilet in a club bathroom all night either. I knew Sol was right about me going back and forth to the bathroom now that I had broken the dam, but if I put enough time between this bathroom visit and the next, maybe the spinning wouldn’t be as bad by then.
When I stepped out of the stall to wash my hands, I jumped to see that someone was waiting there.
Alex.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said.
I waved away her apology. “It’s fine. I just didn’t hear anyone else come in.”
I stepped around her to wash my hands. She turned to face me as I did. “Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”
I looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”
“Is there anything going on between you and Jimmy?”
The question took me by surprise. Why would she think there was anything between us? In all the time that Jimmy had known Alex, I had only met her once before after the lot of us had run into her at a house party. I remembered Jimmy only having eyes for her that night, too. There was no reason I could even fathom that she would believe Jimmy and I had a thing going on when he was so clearly into her.
“No,” I said. “He’s my best friend. Has been since we were kids.”
“And that’s it? Just friendship?”
“Yeah. What’s this about?”
She sighed. “I really like Jimmy, and I thought he liked me, too. But he’s never really asked me out or anything yet. I didn’t know if maybe you two had a thing going on and I read the whole situation wrong. I’ve known far too many guys who claim to be just friends with a girl and turns out they’re actually fucking around.”
Trust me, I wish that’s what was going on here.
Against my better judgement, I put my hands on Alex’s shoulders and said, “If you really like Jimmy and you want things to be more serious, maybe you should make the first move.”
She looked as though she had never even considered that option. “You think so? That won’t seem too...direct?”
“Who gives a shit? Why do men always have to be the ones to make the first move? Most of them are fucking idiots anyways and wouldn’t know if a girl liked them even if she was telling him to his face.” Alex chuckled. “If you want him, go get him.”
She nodded. I was taken by surprise when she suddenly pulled me into a hug. I reluctantly patted her on the back and tried to put the best smile I could muster on my face.
“You’re the best,” she said. “I think we’re going to be great friends.”
I bit my tongue as she hurried out the bathroom door.
That interaction was enough to sober me up more than I wanted. I could feel myself tearing up, but tried to fight it back. I turned to lean against the sink and looked up at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t help but notice everything that Alex had that I didn’t: gorgeous face, sexy voice, body of a model. I couldn’t even dream of leaving the house in a skirt as short as hers without feeling completely embarrassed and exposed. Of course Jimmy would like her, and of course he was going to say yes when she asked him to go out with her.
I hung my head as the tears slipped from my eyes and ran down my face into the sink. I prayed no one would come into the bathroom and find me here crying, and luckily someone was looking out for me because no one did. Once I felt like I had cried myself dry, I quickly splashed my face with cold water and tried to pretend everything was alright. I figured everyone was going to question where I had been for so long, but I didn’t feel like coming up with a fake answer to tell them. If I told them to fuck off, they wouldn’t pry.
My steps faltered a little when I exited the bathroom and saw that Alex and Jimmy were missing from the table. I was tempted to go right to the bar and get another drink, but I pushed through and went back to my group of friends.
“Hey, you good?” Future asked as I sat down in the booth.
“Yeah, just sobered up a little,” I responded. “Where did Jimmy and Alex go?”
“Alex asked to talk to him in private,” Cheddar Bob responded. “But that was a while ago, so who knows where they are now.”
I noticed both Future and Iz elbow him, causing him to spill some of his drink on himself. I didn’t care to imagine where Jimmy had taken Alex after she asked him out. I didn’t need to have that image burned in my mind for the rest of the night.
Everyone went back to their conversations, but I found myself not paying any attention to them. I kept glancing around the club, expecting to see Jimmy and Alex tucked away in a private corner, sucking face as if they were trying to blend into one person. Or maybe they’d be on the dance floor, practically dry humping in front of everyone. I didn’t think Jimmy was one to dance, but Alex had enough allure that she could’ve probably convinced him. But I didn’t see them, and that almost made it all worse.
Eventually I stood from the table suddenly, bringing everyone’s attention to me. “I need some air.”
“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Cheddar Bob asked.
“No, I’ll be fine,” I said. I turned and quickly made for the exit.
Once I was outside, I breathed in the cool night air. It filled my lungs, but it didn’t seem to help soothe me at all.
“You alright?”
“Jesus!” I hissed as I turned towards the voice. It was Jimmy, leaning up against the club. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
“Free country,” he said with a shrug. “Are you good?”
“Just needed air. It felt very stuffy inside.”
I walked over to stand next to him. The rough brick wall dug into my back through my t-shirt. It was cool out, but not enough to make me feel like I needed a jacket or anything. I was standing so close to Jimmy that I could feel the heat coming from his body anyways.
“Where’s Alex?” I asked. “The guys said you two went off to talk in private.”
“She left,” he responded.
I looked at him in shock. “What? And went where?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Home, I guess?”
“Don’t you think you should’ve driven her? It’s not exactly the safest for her to be walking alone at night.”
“I offered, but she turned it down. Said she didn’t wanna see me ever again.”
I’ve definitely missed a lot of things here. “What happened?”
Jimmy sighed. “Well, she got up and went to the bathroom after you, said something about wanting to make sure you were okay where you were so drunk. Then when she came back she asked me if we could talk in private. She brought me outside and told me how she had been waiting for me to ask her out properly since we first met and she was tired of waiting, so she made the first move to ask me if I wanted to go on an official date with her.”
“And you said...”
He looked at me for a second before responding, “No. Obviously.”
Well, yeah, it was obvious that he said no. But what wasn’t obvious was why he had said no.
“I thought you were into her,” I said.
He laughed. “Who told you that?”
I shrugged. “The guys seemed convinced you were.”
“The guys don’t know shit about shit. They just like talking a big game and making fun of each other.” I just looked at him, waiting to see if there was any more he had to say. He looked at me then away again. “No, I’m not into her. She’s beautiful, yes, but I don’t see her that way.”
“Wait, so if you don’t see her like that, then why did you invite her tonight?”
“I didn’t. She was at the Stamping today and asked if she could come along. I guess this was her plan.”
Well, it wasn’t her plan until I told her to go after Jimmy, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
I felt like everything had just been flipped upside down. I was so sure that Jimmy had been reciprocating Alex’s feelings. It seemed like that anyways. Or maybe it seemed like that because I was making it seem that way. I was projecting something onto the two of them that wasn’t really there, I guess because of my jealousy?
“Sucks that she didn’t handle the rejection well,” I said.
“It wasn’t the rejection, it was the reason I rejected her.”
My brows furrowed together. “The reason being...you didn’t like her like that?”
“No. Well...yes. Kind of.”
“You know, for a man who can freestyle, you’re god awful with your words right now.”
He laughed and lightly nudged me with his shoulder. “It was the reason I said I don’t have feelings for her. I told her that I don’t like her because I like someone else and she didn’t handle that very well.”
I could feel my stomach turning to knots again. “Oh? Didn’t like the competition?”
“No, she said something along the lines of she should’ve trusted her gut, and that all guys who hang out with girls end up fucking them in the end.”
It took a second for what he said to register in my brain. When it did, I thought back to Alex talking to me in the bathroom and asking me if there was anything going on between Jimmy and I because she knew of too many guys who were friends with girls who they were actually fucking. Then, I put the pieces together in my head.
When I turned to look at Jimmy again, he was already watching me, waiting for me to come to the conclusion. “Me?!”
“Jesus, that took you long enough.”
“What do you mean that took me long enough?! Why the fuck haven’t you told me?!”
“Because you’re my best friend! We’ve known each other since kindergarten. If I told you I liked you and you didn’t like me back, that would fuck everything up between us and within the friend group. I would rather feel this way in silence than risk losing you as a friend.”
“If you had told me I would’ve told your dumbass that I like you, too, and I have since high school.”
“Wait...for real?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, for real!”
We both stood in silence. We shared a look, and then a smile broke out on Jimmy’s face. I couldn’t help but mirror it, and soon we were both laughing. With the absurdity of the situation, we couldn’t not laugh.
“We’re both dumbasses,” I said between fits of laughter.
“I guess so,” Jimmy agreed. “That brings up the question, though, of where do we go from here?”
“Well, I think we try a date, just the two of us and not those other idiots in there, and we see how things progress from there.”
He smiled. “Okay, I like that idea.”
“And we promise that if things don’t work out, we stay friends.”
“And we don’t tell the guys about any of this.”
I laughed. “Okay deal.”
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