#but I knew I’d find my way back to dance

[straightforpotter]

So I’ve started writing a fic where it’s going to follow James and regulus falling in love but only there nights in the astronomy tower, I don’t know if I’m going to upload it to ao3 yet so I thought I’d test it out here first, also I haven’t edited it or anything to if there’s spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes or anything no there isn’t, here’s the first chapter

Regulus sat on the ledge in the astronomy tower with his feet dangling over the edge, he was content here, he always felt content when looking at the stars.

He found Sirius first, he always found Sirius first, he knew the sky like the back of his hand and he knew exactly where to find Sirius. He took a deep breath in, held it and released it, his brother always brought up a range of different emotions staring at sadness all the way to a full rage and he didn’t have the energy to deal with that tonight.

He was just about to take another breath when he heard to door open, he held his breath begging it to be someone at least slightly tolerable but he didn’t have such luck because none other than James potter walked through the door.

“Oh sorry I didn’t realise anyone was up here” James smiled sheepishly

“Clearly” Regulus scowled

James walked further in and sat down beside Regulus

“What are you doing?” Regulus snapped

“I’m sitting,” James replied with a grin that could brighten the whole world

Looking at James felt the same as looking directly at the sun, it was beautiful and you wanted to look but look for to long and you damage your eyes, Regulus wasn’t about to let himself be any more damaged than he already was.

“Why?” Asked Regulus

“Well I came up here to look at the stars and the best way to look at them is to sit here” James’ smile never faulted, it stuck like a piece of gum at the bottom of your shoe but that was James potter wasn’t it, a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, you can never seem to get rid of him.

“Ok well be quiet” Regulus sighed in defeat

“That I can do” James replied

They sat in silence for about fifteen minutes before James started tapping his foot against the wall below them

“Potter” Regulus snapped

“I thought you wanted silence” James smirked

“It’s a bit hard to have silence when your foot won’t stop banging on the wall” Regulus snarled

“Oh right, sorry: James replied sheepishly

They sat in silence for another twenty minutes before James started tapping his hand on the metal railing in front of them

“Potter I swear to Salazar” Regulus fumed

“What am I doing now” James whined

“The tapping, stop it” Regulus spat

James stopped and they sat in silence for the next ten minutes before James started humming

“Potter!” Regulus yelled

“Are you obsessed with me or something” James laughed

Regulus groaned and put his head in his hands

“You really are insufferable, do you know that?” Regulus groaned

James merely smiled that dazzling smile of his and jumped up onto the ledge

“What are you doing” Regulus asked

“Come up here with me” James responded

“No thanks I don’t have a death wish” Regulus drawled

James jumped back down and did a little spin, it took every inch of Regulus self control not to laugh, he was not about to give James potter the satisfaction of making him laugh.

“Dance with me Regulus” James whispered

“Are you insane, what single part of this interaction has made you think I’d dance with you” Regulus uttered.

James then continued to dance around the astronomy tower, he was flailing all his limbs around without a care in the world, he looked a bit like a spider with all his limbs moving so fast it looked like there were double.

Before Regulus could help it a giggle bubbled up out of him, he slapped his hand over his mouth to hide it but the damage was done, James had heard it and he stood staring at Regulus with an awestruck expression on his face.

“Do it again,” James begged

“Not if my life depended on it” Regulus bit back before standing and storming out of the astronomy tower and back to bed.

[onwardintolight]

After 9 years of missing dance, I finally went and tried out an adult ballet class last night. It was so wonderful and honestly very easy and low-key, being a beginner class, which is exactly what I need right now as it’s more important to listen to my body and not push myself than ever before since btw, y’all, I’m pregnant! Due this Christmas ☺️

I’m trying out a beginner jazz class tonight too and I’m so excited. I won’t be able to keep up with jazz as well as ballet (due to the pregnancy I’ll have to sit out anything with movements that are too sharp/jostling and some floor work), but since this is a super beginner class I think it’ll be fine and a great refresher.

Jazz has a special place in my heart; it’s what I fell in love with the most as a kid and was the most empowering and meaningful for me, but I was forced to give it up because of it being too “sexy” (though even the sexiness/sassiness of jazz was good for me back then as a traumatized kid because it gave me the opportunity to take back and own what had been taken away from me). I’ve had some more experiences with jazz here and there since then that convinced me it felt like coming home, but I’ve never gotten to really reclaim it. It’s what I’m hoping to really pursue after my pregnancy because I want to feel that freedom and power again and proclaim to the world how much I’ve healed.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Trophy Room” Lando Norris x Reader

Warning: smut, NSFW, alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex.

Summary: Lando Norris throws a party in hopes of getting closer to Y/N, a girl he’s been crushing on, introduced by mutual friends. Amid drinks, dancing, and flirtation, their chemistry culminates into a moment away from the crowd, hinting at something deeper between them.

WC: 2,000?

Lando’s POV

The two weeks off couldn’t have come at a better time. After months of relentless training, race prep, and following a strict diet, I was ready to relax a bit. It’d been ages since I let loose, and tonight was all about unwinding. But honestly, the real reason I was throwing this party had less to do with relaxation and more to do with her. Y/N.

I don’t know what it was about her—something about the way she laughed or how she didn’t seem fazed by the chaos around her. She’d come into my life through Max and Pietra, his girlfriend, and since then, I’d found myself scrolling through her Instagram, even browsing her Spotify playlists just to feel like I knew her a little better. I was surprised to find out she didn’t have a boyfriend. Not that I was checking specifically… but, okay, maybe I was.

The music was already pumping as people filled my penthouse. My mate Martin was on the DJ deck, setting the perfect vibe, and the drinks were flowing freely. The weight of the day’s workout still lingered in my muscles, but the buzz from a couple of shots was loosening me up. I was taking a shot with Max when I saw her walk in, and—well, let’s just say I almost choked on my drink.

I couldn’t stop myself from calling out to her. “Y/N! Shot?” I grinned, holding up the vodka bottle.

Y/N’s POV

Walking into Lando’s penthouse, I immediately felt a bit overwhelmed. The place was packed, and the music was loud enough to make the floor vibrate. I scanned the room for Pietra; she was the one who convinced me to come in the first place, promising me a fun night and a chance to unwind.

Before I could find her, though, I heard my name being called. I looked over and saw Lando, smirking, with a bottle of vodka in hand, waving me over. He had this look in his eye that told me he was already a little tipsy. The group around him started chanting my name, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, okay… fine!” I made my way over, and Lando immediately started pouring me a shot, spilling a bit as he did. He was definitely drunk, and he was being flirty in a way that caught me off guard.

“Don’t look so scared, it’s just vodka,” he teased with a grin. “Come on, cutie… I’ll pour you an extra large one.”

I laughed, trying to hide the fact that his confidence was making me blush. “I think I can handle it, thanks.” I downed the shot, my face scrunching up as the vodka burned its way down.

He burst out laughing. “Oh, come on, was it that bad?” He watched me, his gaze lingering a little too long, and I felt his eyes sweep over me. It was like he was taking in every detail, from my dress to the way I was reacting to him.

“You never followed me back, by the way,” he said, pouting in a way that was both ridiculous and kind of cute.

I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Didn’t know you were checking, Mr. Norris.”

“Oh, I’ve been checking,” he replied, leaning closer. “Just waiting on you to notice.” His words were playful, but his eyes had a glint that made my stomach flutter.

He poured me another shot before I had a chance to protest, grinning as he held it out. “One more. Think you can keep up?”

I raised an eyebrow, taking the glass. “Are you challenging me?”

“Maybe,” he smirked. “Let’s see if you can handle it.”

I took the shot, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through me. The music seemed louder, the lights dimmer, and everything around me just felt more alive. I was definitely feeling the buzz now.

As more people arrived, the party got even more crowded, and every time Lando moved away, I’d find him gravitating back toward me, like he wasn’t content unless he was close. Eventually, he reached for my hand and pulled me toward the makeshift dance floor.

“Come on!” he yelled over the music, his grin infectious.

I laughed, letting him lead me, and he immediately started dancing, his movements exaggerated as he tried to make me laugh. His energy was electric, and soon I couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm. At one point, a few people bumped into me, and he quickly grabbed my hips, pulling me closer. I could feel his breath on my ear as he leaned in.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, smirking as he looked down at me.

My face heated up at his words, but he was already pulling back, that same cocky smile on his face. “What?” I challenged, trying to keep my cool.

He shrugged, giving me a look that was equal parts daring and mischievous. “Just stating facts.”

Before I could respond, he tilted his head, giving me a mischievous grin. “Wanna see something cool?”

“What do you have in mind?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I wanna show you my trophies.” He held my gaze, and even in his drunken state, I could feel the sincerity in his eyes.

I felt my stomach twist in excitement and nerves, but before I could second-guess, he grabbed my hand, leading me down a hallway. His fingers laced through mine, and I could feel the warmth of his hand, grounding me in the moment.

He opened a door to a room that had a display case filled with trophies, awards, and helmets. The room felt quieter, the music from the party faint in the background, and for a moment, it was like we’d stepped into a different world. He watched as I took it all in, a proud but slightly shy expression on his face.

“You’re really good at what you do,” I said softly, looking back at him.

He shrugged, his usual confidence wavering slightly. “It’s just racing… I dunno, sometimes it feels like people only see this side of me, y’know?”

I nodded, understanding more than I expected. “Well, it’s impressive. But I think I’m seeing another side of you tonight too.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “You mean the drunk idiot?”

“No,” I laughed. “The Lando who cares, who’s goofy and… real.”

His gaze softened, and he stepped closer. “I’m really glad you came tonight, Y/N.”

My heart pounded as he looked at me, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something warmer, something… real. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his hand lingering for a moment.

Without thinking, I found myself leaning in, and he met me halfway, his lips soft and warm against mine. It was a gentle kiss, both of us testing the waters, but as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, the kiss deepened, filled with the energy and intensity that had been simmering between us all night.

He pulled me closer, his drunken confidence fueling his actions. With a sudden force, he pushed me back against one of the trophy cases, his lips hungrily claiming mine. I was taken aback, not expecting this level of intensity from Lando. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, sending a shiver down my spine as he sucked on it fervently.

His hands roamed down my body, finally settling on my ass. He gripped it tightly, pulling me flush against him. I could feel his hardness pressing against my core, evidence of his desire for me. My mind was reeling, trying to process the abrupt change in our dynamic. I hadn't realized Lando wanted me this badly, but I found myself responding to his touch, my body melting into his.

As he continued to kiss me passionately, I felt a sense of excitement and nervousness coursing through me. This wasn't what I had anticipated for tonight, but the thrill of the unexpected was intoxicating. His hands slid under my dress, caressing my thighs, inching closer to my most intimate area. I let out a soft moan, the sound muffled by his lips against mine.

Lando abruptly pulled away from our heated embrace, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the trophy room, his steps hurried and determined. We stumbled down the hallway, our laughter echoing off the walls as we made our way towards his bedroom.

As soon as we crossed the threshold, he pushed me onto the bed, his body following suit. He hovered over me, his eyes dark with desire and his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. "You're so fucking beautiful," he slurred, his words slightly jumbled. "I want to devour you, my little puppy."

I couldn't help but giggle at his drunken attempt at dirty talk. "You're drunk," I teased, playfully swatting at his chest.

He chuckled, his hand grasping mine and pinning it above my head. "Maybe I am, but I know what I want, and I want you. All of you." His other hand trailed down my body, slipping beneath my dress and caressing my skin.

I squirmed beneath his touch, a mix of anticipation and arousal coursing through my veins. "Then take me," I whispered, my voice laced with desire. "Show me what you've got, Lando."

With a growl, he captured my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth with a fervor that left me breathless. His hand continued its exploration, sliding up my thigh and teasing the edge of my panties. I gasped into the kiss, my hips instinctively bucking against his touch.

Lost in the heat of the moment, I surrendered myself to Lando's drunken passion, eager to see where the night would take us.

Lando's lips trailed hot kisses down my neck as his hands continued to explore my body. He nipped and sucked at my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks that I knew would be visible in the morning. His drunken dirty talk continued, each word sending a shiver down my spine.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he mumbled against my skin, his hands fumbling with the hem of my dress. "I want to taste every inch of you, my little puppy."

I could feel his eagerness, but I noticed him struggling with my dress. A mischievous idea formed in my mind, and I gently pushed him back onto the bed. He looked up at me with a confused yet amused expression.

"Let me help you with that," I purred, my fingers deftly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. His smirk grew wider as he watched me take control.

"Little puppy's not so shy now, huh?" he teased drunkenly, his voice low and husky.

I hooked my fingers into his waistband and slowly pulled his jeans down, revealing his hardness straining against his boxers. "Not when I've got you right where I want you," I replied with a wink.

I leaned down, my hair falling around us like a curtain as I pressed soft kisses along his inner thigh. His hands tangled in my hair, tugging gently as I worked my way closer to his aching member.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're driving me crazy," he groaned, his hips bucking slightly.

I looked up at him through my lashes, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. "That's the idea," I whispered before taking him into my mouth, my lips wrapping around his shaft as I began to work him with my tongue.

I continued to suck on Lando's hardness, my tongue swirling around his shaft as I took him deeper into my mouth. His moans filled the room, his fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me as I pleasured him. I was surprised by my own boldness, but there was something about Lando that made me feel comfortable and confident.

As I bobbed my head up and down, I felt a surge of pride when I tasted his precum. It was a sign of his pleasure, and I reveled in the knowledge that I was the cause of it. However, before I could continue, he gently pulled me off and flipped me onto my back, his body hovering over mine.

He moved to check his drawer for a condom, but after a few moments of rummaging, he cursed under his breath. "Can I... please fuck you? With nothing..." he asked drunkenly, his voice laden with desire.

My face heated up at his request, and I felt a mix of uncertainty and need coursing through me. I knew the risks, but in that moment, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. His lips trailed kisses along my neck, his hands caressing my skin as he waited for my response.

"Lando," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure? We shouldn't..."

But even as the words left my lips, I knew I was already lost in the heat of the moment. His touch ignited a fire within me, and I found myself craving more. I hesitated for a moment longer before finally giving in to my desires.

"Okay," I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest.

A triumphant grin spread across his face as he positioned himself at my entrance. "You won't regret this, pretty girl," he promised, his voice thick with lust.

And with that, he thrust into me, filling me completely. I gasped at the sensation, my nails digging into his back as he began to move inside me. The feeling was intense, overwhelming, and I knew there was no turning back now.

Lando continued to thrust into me, his movements fueled by a mix of lust and alcohol. His hands roamed my body, caressing every curve and dip as he lost himself in the pleasure of our intimate connection. I moaned softly, my hands gripping the sheets beneath us as I surrendered to the sensations coursing through me.

Suddenly, his hand slipped between our bodies, his fingers finding my sensitive clit. He rubbed it gently, his touch sending waves of pleasure through my core. I gasped, my hips bucking against his hand as he skillfully brought me closer to the edge.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he slurred, his drunken dirty talk mingling with the sounds of our lovemaking. "I love how you feel around my cock, baby. You're taking it so well."

His words only heightened my arousal, and I found myself clinging to him, urging him on. I could feel my orgasm building, the pressure inside me growing with each passing second. With a final stroke of his fingers and a particularly deep thrust, I came undone, my body shaking with the intensity of my release.

Lando followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled his seed deep inside me. He collapsed on top of me, his breath hot against my neck as he tried to catch his breath. For a moment, we lay there, our bodies intertwined and our hearts racing.

Slowly, he rolled off of me and pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me in a tender embrace. He kissed my cheek softly, his touch gentle despite his inebriated state. "Was that okay, baby?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically sweet. "Do you need anything? Water, a towel, my bathroom is all yours."

I smiled, touched by his consideration. "I'm good," I assured him, snuggling closer.

As we caught our breath, Lando helped me pull my dress back down, his hands gentle and slightly unsteady due to his inebriated state. He reached up to fix my hair, his fingers combing through the tangled locks with a tenderness that belied his earlier drunken fervor. A smirk played on his lips as he admired his handiwork, clearly pleased with himself for finally getting the girl he had been crushing on.

"Maybe you'll follow me back now, huh?" he joked, referring to the fact that I hadn't followed him on Instagram. "I mean, after that performance, you owe me at least a like or two."

I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. "We'll see," I teased, not wanting to make any promises just yet.

Lando took my hand and led me back to the party, his arm draped casually around my shoulders.

——————————————

Thank you for reading!

Liking and following let’s me know you appreciate the writing! 💜

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!

I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!

Brother's Coworker

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.

A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.

Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.

“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts. 

“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles. 

Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.

“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”

“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head. 

Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest. 

Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”

You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts. 

“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!” 

“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly. 

Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.

“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”

“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you. 

“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”

“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”

Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back. 

“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod. 

“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”

“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes. 

Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even. 

This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet. 

He stands like a statue. 

“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.

“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.” 

A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.” 

You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”

Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.

Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.

“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.

“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John. 

Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.

Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.

Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.

Christ, how long had you been staring at him?

“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.” 

Your brother slashes you with a grin.

“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals. 

“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.” 

“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.

“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material. 

“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk. 

“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”

“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively. 

“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.

“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind. 

Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down. 

Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.

Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again. 

Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window. 

You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”

“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.” 

“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”

“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs. 

Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away. 

He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker. 

Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.

“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes. 

“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.

“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech. 

Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows. 

“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head. 

Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air. 

“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.” 

A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”

You huff and smirk. 

“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows. 

You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder. 

Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.

“That’s my job!” 

Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip. 

“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?” 

The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.

“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed. 

You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat. 

“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”

“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing. 

Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed. 

Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently. 

“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”

“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips. 

“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.” 

Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should. 

“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear. 

He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece. 

You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.” 

By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another. 

Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want. 

Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything. 

“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”

Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed. 

The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava. 

“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”

Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.

Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.

“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.” 

“I just told you—”

“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.” 

Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight. 

What in the hell was going on? 

Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible. 

For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was. 

In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too. 

He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively. 

When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed. 

“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”

“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.

“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.” 

The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” 

Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly. 

“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt. 

“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.

Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment. 

“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.” 

“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment. 

Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften. 

You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”

“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?” 

“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.” 

The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.

You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.” 

Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.

“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”

Splaying your hands, you back out. 

“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”  

“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.

“Well, why not?” Simon glares.

“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.

“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”

You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he’d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt. 

With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back. 

“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire. 

Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm. 

A secluded home. Nothing around. 

Then why had your words seeped into him?

“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.

—

In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death. 

As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you. 

Silent.

There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside. 

The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

summary: your boyfriend undoubtedly loves you very much but some positions just get him going unlike any other

pairings: bachira :: nagi :: chigiri :: kaiser :: sae :: rin :: reo x fem! reader (all characters are aged up!!)

warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, i’ll put individual warnings on each part to not flood this intro but i’d say there’s a tendency for dom! character (overall pretty tame though), pet names, cursing

this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!

blue lock masterlist

♛ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

tw: creampies, slight hair pulling (f! receiving), manhandling, implied multiple rounds

Bachira is insatiable, to say the least. Chances are his stamina outlasts yours by a longshot. And he’s so absolutely enamoured with you, his favourite position is whichever one he currently has you in. Although there are some you find yourself in more often than others: namely riding him, which almost always turns into him lifting you up by the hips and slamming you back down on him; being nearly folded in half as his hands grab at the flesh of your thighs and Bachira presses you into the mattress with his weight alone; and burying your face into the pillow as he holds you up by the hips, one hand tangling in your hair. Absolutely has bent you over every piece of furniture in your home before, he’s a monster in his own right…

Fingers were dancing up your spine and pressing you down further into the cushions, accompanied by playful laughter that absolutely didn’t match Bachira’s ruthless thrusts which had you gripping onto the armrest of the couch harder. How did you get here again? Your boyfriend came home from practice… and next thing you knew he was rearranging your guts.

“Ah, Meguru… ‘s too deep, I can’t–” you panted, breathless from the effort of trying to keep up with the man behind you. Seriously, shouldn't he be tired after running around all day? Where did he take all that energy from?

“What was that? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear you over the sounds of your wet pussy.” You could practically see his smirk without even having to crane your head around. The hand on your back tangled into your hair, your body bowing as he slightly raised your head, creating a new angle for him to drive his cock into you, his balls smacking against your sensitive folds. “You want me to go deeper, ‘s that it?”

You loved this, you loved this a little too much perhaps. Whenever Bachira bent your body to his liking, almost using you however he pleased, it always left you with your thighs shaking and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. If you ever had to admit it, you might die of shame but with your walls clamping down on his cock and Bachira’s snigger ringing through the room, you had the hunch he already knew.

With his fingers leaving your hair, you fell forwards again but only momentarily before being pulled up entirely by his hand resting on your collarbones to meet his bare chest. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen against your sweat-slicked back, the way they contracted with every thrust upwards. Everytime he pulled you back down to meet him, a firm smack echoed around the room as his strong thighs collided with yours. 

“Talk to me, baby, you know I like hearing your pretty voice,” Bachira said, giving a particularly nasty snap and forcing a sharp gasp of his name from you, “especially when you sing my name like that~”

“I’m almost there, Meguru, just hngh–” 

“Me too… You can make both of us cum, right? Bet you’d like it if I did this,” your boyfriend huffed, finally showing at least a little bit of strain as he neared his release. The hand on your hip wandered to your core, his index finger pulling up the hood of your clit. When his middle finger put pressure onto the bare tip of the nub, it sent a bolt of electricity racing up your spine, making you straighten in the striker’s hold. Throwing your head back onto his shoulder you let your moans spill freely while digging your fingers into the flesh of his thigh, the other coming to rest over his on your chest. You felt the needy twitch of his cock inside of you as he groaned curses into the skin of your neck. “Shit, you’re making it pretty fucking hard to move when you clench down on me like that.”

Bachira gave a few thrusts before his hips stuttered and he pressed as far into you as he could go as warmth started to flood you and fill you up. The combination of him stuffing you full, his low moans and the practised flicks on your clit sent you straight into your high as well, cunt creaming around him as Bachira moved both hands down to your waist to stop you from trying to run from the overwhelming pleasure. 

For a few minutes, your shared panting was all that could be heard as Bachira lazily moved you up and down to ride out both your highs. You were absolutely putty in his arms, more so than before, as he carefully guided your chest to meet the couch again, all the while staying glued to your body. With his weight on top of you and his cum leaking out of you, that was when you realised: he was still hard.

“You always feel so good when you make a mess all over me.” Bachira gently uncurled his and your arms from your tangled bodies, bringing them down on the cushions so he could lay his hands on top of yours and intertwine your fingers. 

“Let me give you another one, yeah?~”

♛ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎

tw: cockwarming, creampies, implied exibihitionism/ voyeurism (kinda?), mentions of face-sitting, size kink /difference if you squint hard enough

Nagi is a fan of all things low-effort, not exerting himself when he sees no reason to. So why bother exhausting himself when he’s perfectly capable of making you a mess on top of him? Whether that means having you sit on his face as he eats you out ‘til your thighs are shaking on either side of his head and your hand losing its grip on the headboard or letting you ride him ‘til your legs give out and you breathlessly beg him to take over. That isn’t to say he doesn’t ever take the initiative; you can kiss your ability to walk goodbye whenever that happens though…

You loved watching your boyfriend play games. Not necessarily because of what was happening on the screen but much rather because more often than not you got to sit there for hours on end with Nagi’s thick cock nestled snugly inside of you, clad in nothing but one of his oversized shirts.

Sure, having to hold still when he was rubbing against all your weakest spots so deliciously could be considered a form of torture specifically designed for you but at the same time you felt too full to complain. Instead you merely rolled your head back onto his shoulder, bleary eyes blinking open every now and then when the mindless noises from the game sounded somewhat interesting.

Whatever he was playing didn’t seem to cooperate with him though, curses pushed through gritted teeth giving away to his frustrations. Hearing his deep groan upon having to restart the level again set off a chain event as your walls fluttered around him and you ground yourself down harder in desperate search for some friction. In return, Nagi’s hips thrust up instinctively before tightly clutching your hips to halt your movements. “Not yet, angel. Still need to beat this stupid boss…”

“Sei…” Reaching back to wind your hand into his snowy strands, you lightly raked your fingernails over his scalp and tugged his roots, which earned you a heavenly moan from your boyfriend. “Why don’t you take a break? Maybe you can focus on it better afterwards.”

“Yeah, you gonna help me relax, pretty thing?” Nagi was nosing down the back of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to your nape as his large palms wandered under your shirt, cupping your boobs and kneading them between his fingers. You merely responded by arching into his touch and rolling your hips down on him again, accompanied by a quiet whine for him to do something, anything. “Fuck, you’re so good to me.”

Guiding your legs to rest over the armrests of his gaming chair, Nagi ran an experimental hand down to your folds, swiping through your arousal and giving your clit a quick swipe of his thumb. The short contact was enough to have you buck into his touch, a whine for more escaping your throat as you shuddered in your boyfriend’s embrace.

“Sei… Please fuck me, I need you so bad, please.”

“Eh, I guess it’s only fair. Been so patient with me, hm?” His big hands were lifting you up by the hips, pulling you off of him almost entirely before sinking you back down, slowly building  a steady pace that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head with how deep he was hitting. Nagi brought you to the peak of pleasure so quickly, you weren’t even embarrassed anymore at how eagerly you were clamping down on him.

“Shit, I’m so close, baby, don’t stop,” you panted, breath hot against the side of his neck. One of his hands left your hip only to reappear on your clit, deft fingers drawing firm circles on the little bud, boneless in his grip as he kept bouncing you on his cock. The lewd squelching of your pussy combined with Nagi’s grunts and the slapping of skin against skin had you hurtling toward your high at a dizzying speed. “‘S too much, I can’t–”

“You can and you will, pretty thing,” he huffed as your nails dug into the skin of his wrists. “Almost there, too… Let’s cum together, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?”

Apparently that was all it took for you to come undone, your walls milking him for all he was worth as he held you tightly against himself as you tried to wind out of his arms. Tilting your head up, Nagi connected your lips in a messy kiss, one you tried your best to reciprocate, swallowing down all the moans bleeding out of you. With a few shallow thrusts upwards, his hips stuttered as his balls clenched and warmth flooded you. 

For the next couple of minutes, you both just sat there, trying to catch your breath as his cum leaked from your hole despite his cock still stuffing you. Gently massaging your sore spots, Nagi peppered light kisses all over your temple and cheeks as you simply gazed at him in bliss.

The peaceful atmosphere was broken however when the sound of an incoming discord call rang through the room. Looking at the screen you could vaguely make out Reo’s name before the cursor hovered over the ‘accept’ button, Nagi’s dick twitching back to life.

“Wanna play a game, angel?”

♛ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐈 𝐇𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐀

tw: oral (f! receiving), hair pulling (m!receiving), oral (m! receiving) implied

Any position in which you can pull on Chigiri’s cherry red locks is a good position in his eyes. Be that tangling your fingers in the strands at his nape while he gazes down on you oh so sweetly in missionary or reaching your hand back to find something to hold on to and ground yourself as he angles his hips deeper into you with your back pressed to his chest. If he had to pick a favourite, however, it would be how you grasp desperately at his hair to pull him where you need him most when he goes down on you…

His shoulders nudged your legs apart further as Chigiri settled between them, at the same time smoothing his hands up the back of your legs to push them up with him. You could feel the adrenaline pulsing through you, shifting along the mattress as his bright eyes drank in the sight in front of him. He watched intensely as your glistening pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation, slick leaking from your slit.

“Don’t you look delicious, sweetheart?” His soft voice drifted to your ears as the pad of his fingers gathered your arousal. Holding them up for you to see, the webbing between the digits was clearly visible in the dim light as he spread them. “All for me, hmm? Are you this wet just because of me?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled, one hand cupping his cheek as Chigiri propped himself up. “It’s only ever because of you.”

His pillowy lips broke into a grin as he feathered kisses from your knee up your inner thigh, guiding your legs to rest over his shoulders and frame his beautiful face in the same motion. “You really do know what a man likes to hear.”

“It’s the truth though, nobody’s ever made me feel this way before. In any aspect of life,” you whispered, searching for his hand on the mattress to intertwine yours with it.

You gladly pushed your torso forward to meet your boyfriend halfway as he pressed his lips to yours. Carding your fingers through the strands behind his ear, you scraped your nails across his scalp, making him moan into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. Tongues tangling together and spit dribbling down your chin, you had to break the contact to catch your breaths, Chigiri’s panting heating up the crook of your neck.

Hungry red eyes bored into yours as he swiped some of your mixed saliva from the corner of your lips. “Please let me show you how much hearing that means to me. You’ll let me make you feel good, right angel?” 

Chigiri could feel the vibrations of your hum against his lips as he slowly kissed his way back down your body. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you close to him as he took his previous spot between your legs, breath fanning your sensitive folds.

You gripped his hand harder as he gave the first experimental lick up the length of your pussy, thoroughly riled up from his treatment beforehand. Groaning as you slick coated his flattened tongue, your boyfriend pressed his hips into the mattress, searching for friction to relieve the bulge straining against his sweats. 

“Ah shit, you taste so sweet, how’s it always so good?” Chigiri said, voice muffled by your core and sending sparks straight through you. He watched with rapt attention as your back bowed off the bed when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked firmly.

More slick poured from you and coated the lower half of his face as he pried your folds apart with his wet muscle just to hear your beautiful whimpers, which doubled in volume as he sunk his tongue into you. There was no denying how much you desired this, desired him, as you immediately clenched around the intrusion. 

But you wanted -needed- more of him. With a dazed sigh of his name, your fingers tangled in his fiery strands and tugged him further into your heat. Mindlessly rutting against the bed at the sting on his scalp, more angelic groans spilled directly into you as Chigiri’s long lashes fluttered shut. The position he currently had you in, allowed his nose to rub against your bundle of nerves with every movement and it had your thighs clasping around the sides of his face, threatening to suffocate him.

The striker didn’t even seem fazed by it, in fact, his actions became more enthusiastic, driven by the goal to bring you to the peak of pleasure. And he knew you were almost there as your hips bucked upwards, trying to grind against him with his hair still secure in your fist. 

By the time the coil in your stomach unravelled, there was no way the two of you could physically be any closer, even though you tried your hardest as you pressed your heels into his shoulder blades and curled your toes. Spurred on by the high-pitched whines and whimpers escaping you as your movements stuttered, Chigiri lapped up every single drop of cum you offered, completely drunk on your taste.

Swallowing heavily as your boyfriend gently set your legs down on the mattress again, massaging your calves as he did, you gave him a breathless smile. Sitting on his knees, he cast one last glance at your glossy pussy, glistening with a mixture of your release and his spit. The sight made his dick twitch with need as he licked his lips, which were stained with you.

Crawling back up your body, Chigiri carefully sunk down in order not to crush you under his weight as you wrapped one arm around his neck while the other travelled down the planes of his back.

“Did that feel good?” he asked, cherry eyes searching your own for any sort of discomfort as he trailed his palm up and down your side without any sort of direction. “Could I deliver my message well?”

“You did amazing as always, Hyoma,” you grinned, watching as his eyes widened and his hips jerked forward when your fingers dipped into his sweats and cupped his bulge through his boxers. “You’ll allow me to return the favour, won’t you pretty boy?”

♛ 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋

tw: oral (m! receiving), deep throating, kaiser is a little mean, slight dacryphilia, sir kink (once) 

Kaiser is a sadist and frankly… a bit of an asshole. He’ll coo at you when heat spreads through you out of embarrassment and gets off on seeing tears of pleasure, overstimulation or frustration stain your face. Having you completely spread in front of a mirror as he toys with you really gets him going. Not only does he get to see all of you, no, he can also make you watch yourself unravel for him and only him. It’s a sight that can only be matched by you on your knees between his legs, worshipping him like a king… 

“You like this, don’t you?” Kaiser was smirking down at you, his tone mocking but he was right. You hated how his taunts made your stomach churn with want and your panties soak with your own arousal. “Oh, forgot you can’t talk with my dick down your throat. Apologies, princess.”

A whimper escaped you as he pulled you off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his glossy tip. Mascara was running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smeared across your lips, stains of the same shade wrapping around his cock, all the way down to the base; you looked so fucked out already and Kaiser was living for it. “Go on now, tell me how much you like this.”

“Yes, Mi-“ a tug at your hair cut you off. When you looked up to meet his eyes, you shivered at the chilly raise of his brow. “Y-Yes Sir, love it. Love it so much.”

“That’s a good girl. Now put your money where your mouth is.” Sliding his hand down to hold your chin between his fingers, he tapped his cock head against your lips, the salty taste of his precum hitting your taste buds. “Come on, open up for me, princess.”

You flicked your eyes from his dick back up to his as you opened your mouth again, tongue lolling out as you took in his form looming over you. His lips curled up at the corners to see you so obedient for him. Sinking into your warmth again, Kaiser huffed out a groan as he held you still, going slow until your lips stretched around the base of his cock. With your nose pressing against his trimmed pubes, tears welling in your eyes as the breaths from your nose fanned against his skin, he held you there for a little, indulging in the clenching of your tight throat around his tip as you tried not to gag.

But that was as far as your boyfriend was willing to test his patience that day. The way your tongue ran against the sensitive vein on the underside of his heavy shaft had his balls tightening as he tried to starve off his release as long as possible. As his hips jerked forward the first time on their own, he took it as his cue to start thrusting.

Your eyes screwed shut and you had to dig your nails into the muscles of his thighs, not caring at all whether his shorts would cover the marks the next day, as his tip hit the back of your throat over and over. Saliva pooled on your tongue, spilled over your lips, dribbled down your chin and onto your chest. The lewd sight had his abs contracting as his cock twitched against your pink muscle.

Pushing his bangs out of his face before bringing his palm from your chin to the back of your head as he leaned back on the hand propping him up on the bed, Kaiser pushed you down on him completely once again as his musky scent invaded your senses. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension as you took in the light shining onto the slight sheen of sweat coating his skin, his hair messed up from running his fingers through it, looking downright ethereal.

“Look at me while you swallow everything I give you, princess,” he gritted out as he shallowly ground his pelvis into you until his hips stuttered. With your teary eyes fixed on his again, he let a guttural groan slip from his lips as he tipped his head back and ropes of hot cum shot down your throat. “Don’t waste a single drop, got it?”

Letting you pull off his dick, he closely watched the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. He scooped up a drop that escaped the corner of your lips with his thumb and pushed it back into your mouth, smirking as you diligently sucked the digit clean.

“As much as I love seeing you on your knees, I think you earned yourself a reward. Come here, pretty,” he said, holding out his hand for you and pulling you up to stand between his legs, sniggering when you lightly stumbled as you stretched your legs again. Pushing your hair out of your face he gave you a sweet peck before turning you around and guiding you down until you sat between his spread thighs with your back to his chest. 

As he trailed kisses from the back of your hand all the way to your shoulder blade and hooked your knees over his muscles, you finally understood what Kaiser was playing at when you raised your head and met his half-lidded gaze in the floor-length mirror across from you.

Your cheeks flared with heat as your eyes flitted across your exposed form, the wet spot on your underwear clearly visible to the both of you, as you tried to close your legs in shame only to be stopped by a large palm.

“Why so shy all of a sudden? I just want you to see how gorgeous you look when I make you cum, so keep your pretty eyes on that mirror,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties. “After all, a princess is meant to be shown off, wouldn’t you agree?”

♛ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

tw: mean dom! sae, blindfolds, edging, implied overstimulation, fingering (f! receiving), name calling (slut), slight degradation, mentions of dacryphilia

Sae loves reducing you to a whimpering mess before he even thinks about fucking you deep into the mattress, his cerulean gaze sharp and almost painfully neutral. His favourite way of achieving just that has to be fingering you for what feels like hours. Not only is he stretching you nicely to take all he gives you later on, it also allows him to run that mean mouth of his. Whether he’s edging you mercilessly or making you cum so often you barely remember your own name is a gamble though…

The room was positively spinning, you felt like falling despite being propped up against the pillows on your bed. Sweat slicked up your skin as you dug your fingernails into your palms, certain that half-moons would be visible even the next day.

“Sae, no more, please. I’m sorry,” you sobbed, voice hoarse from pleading with your boyfriend for what felt like hours. With the blindfold covering your eyes you couldn’t see the way Sae’s lips tugged up at the corners as he took in your messy hair and the tear tracks visible even with the black fabric wrapped around your head. Your thighs were coated with your own slick as Sae had brought you to the brink of an orgasm more times than you wanted to count before cruelly ripping it away from you again.

“Are you? I’m not so sure,” his voice was painfully neutral as he circled your puffy folds again, lazily running his fingers over your slit but not with enough pressure to actually satisfy you. Against your better judgement, your hips twitched up to chase his touch which only made him pull away entirely with a tut. “After all, I made it pretty clear you shouldn’t touch yourself while I was still at work and yet, what do I find when I come home? My pretty little girlfriend with her fingers stuffed in her messy cunt.”

The harsh tug at your nipple ripped a groan from you. You felt his hand trace down from the valley between your breasts, over your stomach leaving a featherlight trail of goosebumps in its wake, Sae softly humming as you shuddered. His other hand smoothed up your thigh, the simple action alone tightening the coil in your stomach again, too sensitive from your ruined orgasms. It settled at your hips, rubbing small circles into the bone, an unspoken apology for what was about to happen next.

You threw your head back into the pillows with a strangled moan as he pressed two fingers onto your throbbing clit, hurtling you down the path to another high he’d possibly take away from you again. Your babbling from before started once more, begging him to finally let you cum.

“Aren’t you enjoying your punishment a little too much, you little slut? I mean, look at you,” he chided. With his thumb continuing to press down on your twitching nub, his middle and ring finger met no resistance as he thrust them into your drenched cunt. Sae knew your body like the back of his hand, so he had absolutely no trouble finding the spot that made your knees jerk up against your will. “You want to cum, is that it? Do you think you deserve it?”

“Yes Sae, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Please I won’t do it again, please.” If you could hear anything over the blood rushing through your ears, your whimpers would seem pathetic even to you. But right now, the only thing on your mind was your boyfriend’s fingers rhythmically pushing in and out of your pussy with a wet squelch as you gripped the sheets as if your life depended on it.

“Hmm, I guess you’ve behaved well enough, even kept your hands to yourself,” he mused, his tone still cool but his movements didn’t stop. “Go on and make a mess then before I rethink my decision again.”

A constant string of ‘thank you’s tumbled from your lips as you finally fell over the edge of pleasure, Sae keeping his thrusts steady even as your walls clamped down on him furiously and white hot fire set your whole body ablaze.

As you gradually came down from your high, panting to fill your lungs with much needed air, two fingers slipped under the material covering your eyes and gently pulled it off of you. You blinked your bleary eyes open at the sensation of soft lips pressing against your temple. But your attention was soon drawn to the light tap of his cock head against your clit which had you whimpering, no idea when Sae had undressed.

“What’s wrong? You said you wanted to cum right? I’m just giving my slut what she wants.”

♛ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

tw: size kink, implied multiple rounds, light marking

It has become somewhat of a routine for the two of you to shower together. While it doesn’t always end up in shower sex, Rin comes home pent-up from practice often enough and who are you to deny him (and yourself) the pleasure of sudsy hands roaming your body, feeling you up and kneading at your soft curves before he inevitably presses you into the cool shower tiles? Although, some nights, you find yourself in the shower again only a few hours later to wash away the remnants of the following round(s)...

Steam curled around your body, rising from your skin and fogging the bathroom mirror. But the water was nothing against the heat pooling in your stomach, your soft moans drowned out by the splashing of the drops. To the man behind you, they were still clearly audible though, his chest pressed firmly against your back as his hands roamed every inch of your skin. 

Rin held you up with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he ground his hard cock between your ass cheeks with a low grunt. “I missed you today. So much.”

“I missed you too, baby,” you crooned, leaning your full weight into him. The wandering of his hands came to a halt, fingers running over your slit.  “Fuck, Rin, I need you, please fill me up.”

“Are you sure, love? Let me prep you at least a little–”

“I can take it,” you cut him off, grinding back against him. “Just– Just go slow.”

“If that’s what you want. Tell me if it hurts, yeah?” Trapping one of your hands against the shower wall, he intertwined his long fingers with yours as well as he could. The arm that previously held you steady now grabbed onto your hips, pulling them back to slightly bend you over. Stuffing his cock between your legs to coat himself in your arousal, his light thrusts through your folds had his cockhead catch your clit with every movement. “Ready?”

You barely managed to squeak out the words before you already felt him prod at your core. Even just the mushroom-headed tip stretched you so well, you parted your lips in a silent scream, head hanging low as you focused on standing upright. Inch by inch, Rin continued to sink into you and you could feel every vein drag against your walls agonisingly slow. When he grazed past your sweet spot, you offered a small sob as you clenched down on him.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re doing so well,” he whispered against your shoulder, peppering conciliatory kisses along your skin, sucking a bruise into the juncture of your neck before moving up towards your jaw. “You’re always so good to me, aren’t you?”

By the time his hips were finally snug against your ass, you swore you could feel him in your lungs. Letting go of your hips, his hand came around to press down on the bulge in your stomach, feeling himself nestled inside of you so deeply. Then, he dipped your head back to connect your lips, the initially sweet kiss growing messier until you started whining into his mouth to finally move.

Rin wasted no time giving you what you wanted, revelling in the way you arched back into him as he slowly dragged out of you, groaning as your pussy didn’t want to let go of him. Building up to a steady pace, it didn’t take long for your legs to wobble slightly. He pulled you tightly against him, using his palm against your boob as leverage for his thrusts. 

“Ah~ Rin, ‘s too much, you’re too big.” Your moans bounced off the walls, breathless as you clung to his arm. “Keep going, don’t stop!”

“Saying it’s too much and then whining for more? Can’t make up your mind, huh? Let me decide for you, then,” your boyfriend grunted. Gripping the back of your knee, he folded it up to your chest, spreading you open wide to angle his hips better, deeper, into your cunt. Pinching your nipple between his fingers as he reached around you to play with your clit. “At least your cunt knows what she wants, clamping down on me so damn tightly… you’re close aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, god Rin, yes. Please make me cum!” you nearly yelled. “Only you– Fuck, only you can make me feel this good.”

“That’s right, now show me how good you look cumming on my cock.” His words were searing against your neck as you crumbled underneath him. You quivered in his arms as he shushed you, gently setting your knee back down and running the flat of palms down your sides. When you had stopped grinding back into him in a post-orgasmic haze, Rin pulled out and spun you around.

Hoisting you up with his hands grabbing at the fat of your ass, the striker caged you against the wall as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Cradling the back of your head in his large palm, he took in your fucked out expression with half-lidded eyes before stealing all air from your lungs again in a hungry kiss. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entry which you gladly granted. Tangling your tongues together, it still wasn’t enough to distract you from the way he lined himself up with your cunt again.

“Gorgeous as always,” he mumbled against your lips, cerulean eyes focused solely on you. “You can do that again for me, right? Want you to cum with me this time.”

♛ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎

tw: switch! reo, soft dom! reo, lingerie, bondage, face-sitting, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f!receiving), light marking, praise, pet names, mentions of exhibitionism

Reo and you are on equal playing grounds both in and outside the bedroom. Taking turns teasing each other, riling the other up until they can’t take it anymore, that’s what makes being with Reo fun. You never know what to expect when you get intimate with him; will you watch as you order him to get himself off before you even think about touching him or will Reo have your nude form pressed against the glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse? Perhaps neither of you will take control as you exchange slow caresses, drunk on the taste of each other? As always, Reo does it all and he does it so perfectly… 

“Don’t you look gorgeous, baby?” Lithe fingers danced across the red silk binding your thighs together, experimentally hooking his index and middle finger under the material, effectively pulling your exposed core closer to his face.

The plan for this night had been to tease him, the pretty lingerie you had put on especially for that sake lying discarded somewhere between the door and bed. Reo had apparently had a similar incentive this time around, not willing to hand over the reins so readily and the flimsy material you wore only spurred him on as he produced the red bindings from behind his back.

In his defence, you didn’t put up much of a fight as he crowded you against the bed, his large hands running up your spine to unclasp the lacey bra. As he slid the straps off your shoulders, his mouth busied itself by sucking blooming purple marks against your skin while you felt up the muscles underneath his shirt. The second his hands were free, one of them clasped both your wrists behind your back before loosely wrapping the silk around them.

“This okay, bunny?” he whispered against the shell of your ear and, frankly, the speed at which you nodded should have been embarrassing but you were way too curious to find out where this was going. The striker chuckled at your eager response, fastening the glossy red against your skin. “Aren’t you just the cutest? Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while.”

That was how you found yourself with your knees on either side of Reo’s head, quivering from both the effort to keep yourself upright and his tongue flicking continuously against your clit. You could feel the slick leaking out of you, pooling on the lower half of your boyfriend’s face as his fingers diligently worked you up to your orgasm. Curling his digits into you, he was searching for that one spot that always had you seeing stars and when he found it, you rocked your hips forward with a needy whine, trying to grind down on him to the best of your abilities.

With glossy eyes, you watched as Reo’s crinkled in amusement at your desperation, deliberately pressing into your sweet spot over and over to see you fall apart for him. Fire was licking up your spine as you wriggled in his grasp, the hand on your back immediately holding onto your bound wrists when he noticed you were about to topple over. Pulling your arms down, he arched your back to only press you further into him.

He shushed your cries of his name gently, the vibrations of his voice sending sparks directly into your bundle of nerves. “You’re doing so well for me. Now show me how good I make you feel when you cum all over my fingers and tongue, yeah?”

By now, you were reliant on the way he held you up, your own bones seemingly turned to jelly as his mouth wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it and giving the faintest graze of his teeth against it. The effect was instantaneous as you hiccuped his name, the tight knot in your stomach snapping as you released all over him.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” letting you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from your pussy and licking them clean, his grin was finally visible to you. Smoothing his hands up your trembling thighs, he squished the flesh around the silk, a mischievous glint in his violet eyes.

“Let’s see what else we can use this for, now that I already have you like this.”

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[obsessedwhyyes]

A Sound Hypothesis

Part 1 of The Scientific Method series.

Summary: Inexperienced in the ways of love, you often find yourself labelled an overthinker. But then again, you are a scientist. When your incredibly beautiful travelling companion proposes a night you'll never forget, suddenly you're left wondering, are you really ready for this? Ever the scientist, you propose an experiment, and get more than you bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4762 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Act 1, smut with plot, inexperienced nerd reader, making out, oral sex (giving and receiving), hand job, cock worship, blowjob and handjob instruction (ie. Astarion teaches you how to pleasure him).

A/N: Can't believe this got to nearly 5k words, good lord. Actual smut comes in half way through, but it's still rather spicy before then. Also, writing handjobs is hard.

The events of the night prior felt like a dream, yet you remembered each moment vividly.

“I’m beginning to like the whole package, honestly,” he had purred, “and you clearly like me too, so I was thinking…”

You looked into his eyes as he gazed confidently, hungrily into yours. There was only him in this moment. Well, him and the quickened pulse of your heart pounding in your ears. You were certain he could hear it.

“We could take an evening to ourselves. Get to know each other a little more intimately.”

But you were struck with a hit of nerves then. You had lived a sheltered life before your abduction. A wizard and a scholar, your pursuits had been in the sciences and that of perfecting your craft, rather than in stolen moments of lust with beautiful strangers. Not to say you hadn’t experienced a few stolen kisses, however. But to give oneself entirely to another - that was a very different, much more intimidating affair. Yet there was no denying the spark that flickered between the two of you as you spent your days and evenings together, and that spark ignited a growing ache within you that lingered each night you retreated to your bedroll.

“I want to, Astarion. Gods, I really want to, but I’m…”

You hesitated and tore your eyes from him; fiddled with your fingers for a moment.

“You’ve never done this before,” he finished, causing you to look up suddenly from your busying hands.

“I had my suspicions. I’d have already bedded you twice over otherwise.”

You could only laugh, not only at the sheer audacity of his remark, but because of course he knew. Gods, he could probably smell the inexperience on you from a mile away.

“It’s your decision, of course. Should you wish to keep things light between us, we’ll end our evenings together as friends. If you decide you want a little more, however–”

He stepped closer to you - close enough to feel his cool breath on your skin and smell the freshness of his cologne.

“I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering delicately where your neck meets the line of your jaw. He was playing you like a fiddle, and you knew it. But gods, if his tune wasn’t a siren’s song in the night. You wanted nothing more than to dance to it.

And then he kissed you.

Gods, the way he kissed you.

There was need, yes; a hunger not unknown to you even in your limited experience. But it was a hunger wrapped in a velvet blanket of familiarity, as though he had known your lips as long as his own. He was certainly skilled, there was no denying that.

The chill of the night air felt like a splash of cold water to your senses once his lips left yours, and you found yourself mourning the loss of his touch.

“Think about it,” he had said that night, before retreating back to his tent.

–

And here you are, wrapped in your bedroll, thinking about it. Ceaselessly.

About his voice, laced with the sweetest honey, speaking promises of nights wanton and dripping with ecstasy. About his smile, teasing and rakish, and the feel of his lips against yours which you missed like home.

You think about the times you let him feed from you; the gentle way he held you, one hand cradling your head. The soft, pleasured noises that would rumble from his chest as he grazed over the soft flesh of your throat - and sunk his teeth into it. Then, greedy, he would begin to pull you close, your chest flush against his own. Every time he fed, it was as though the gates holding back the flood of every primal vampiric instinct within him were unleashed at the taste of you; the ambrosia that is your life essence which you willingly gift to him. And every time he fed, before you reached the point of no return, you would break him out of his trance - a simple series of taps on his shoulder - and he would release you from his predatorial embrace.

It was in those moments, you would see the look in his eyes: ravenous, pupils blown, boring down into you as you lay there beneath him, vulnerable. Your gazes would linger and gods, how you imagined what it would feel like to be entangled with him; for him to take his pleasure from you.

No, you tell yourself. This has been going so fast. Your time together has been so short in the grand scheme of things yet, with the threat of ceremorphosis looming over you, your time on this mortal plane may be fleeting. One might argue that now is surely the time to experience that which you have not… isn’t it? 

But what if this isn’t what you actually want and this aching need within you is simply a manifestation of the stress your increasingly bizarre situation has brought you? It is not unknown for one to develop bouts of hypersexuality in times of stress, or so you have read in books detailing such occurrences.

Suddenly, an idea presents itself. A scientist such as yourself requires a chance to gather all available evidence before coming to a conclusion. A little experimentation, perhaps. Then, you’ll know for certain if your attraction runs deeper than you give your body credit for. Your honed mind will not be governed by a set of primitive bodily urges - you’re better than that. You won’t allow it.

For now, sleep beckons. Tomorrow, you shall put your idea into practice.

– 

The next day passes as swiftly as you had hoped. You’re eager to welcome the night. You and your companions had seemingly settled into a predictable routine when it came to your evening endeavours: your fellow wizard and friendly rival, Gale, would slave over the cook pot with the limited items you had procured over your journey, while the Blade of Frontiers himself regaled your group with stories of his adventures, punctuated with commentary from your remaining companions, ranging from crude to complimentary. Food would be eaten and domestic duties fulfilled, after which, everyone would begin their journeys to their bedrolls. Well, everyone bar you and Astarion. As the resident elves, you require far less rest than that of your travelling companions. It was in these moments, where the camp lay dormant and the two of you sit against a fallen log by the campfire, that you had developed something resembling a rapport with Astarion. You have become rather fond of your night time talks.

Tonight, however, you have plans beyond repartee.

You feel emboldened by your plan. Where before, you were thrown into territory unknown, unprepared and anxious, now you have the comfort of scientific method on your side. You know exactly what to say - you’ve thought of every possibility after all.

Sitting side-by-side, you turn to him, determined.

“I was thinking about your little proposition last night.”

“Were you now?” Astarion replies with a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. I always imagined that the first time I, um…”

“Did the horizontal dance with an esteemed companion? Engaged in amorous congress? Fucked?”

“Had sex,” you quickly correct, halting his attempts to fluster you further. “I always imagined the first time I had sex would be under slightly less unusual circumstances. We’ve been under nothing but stress ever since we got off that damned Nautiloid. I can’t tell if this desire I’m feeling is because I truly want to spend the night with you, or because my body just wants a distraction.”

“Is that such a bad thing? We’ve worms in our brains and danger is lurking around every corner. Our time is short, darling. If I can provide our dear leader a little respite in these tumultuous times; offer up my services in her time of need, that sounds like time well spent, does it not?”

He shuffles closer to you, resting his arm behind you on the log which you both lean against.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice low and close to your ear, “you’ve been so good to me, offering up your neck for me to savour. It’s only fitting that I offer you a little distraction in return.”

“I don’t want to just… use you as a distraction, Astarion. Gods, I offered you my blood because I wanted to help you, not because I expected a favour.”

For a fleeting moment, his expression shifts. And just as quickly, his smirk returns, embodying a practised sultriness that has surely wrapped many a soul around his fingers.

“No,” you continue, “if I have sex, it will be because it’s something I truly want to do; that I’m ready for. Not just a fanciful distraction. I hope you feel the same.”

That expression again, barely noticeable. You can’t quite decipher it.

“So, darling,” he purrs, “what do you suggest?”

“I was wondering if I could kiss you.”

“Ha! Can’t get enough, eh?”

“I just think that, with a little more evidence, I might be able to see if this is something I’m truly ready for; to discern whether this desire is real, or simply a physical response to this gods-awful situation we find ourselves in.”

He laughs, seemingly amused by your reasoning, and your heart flutters at the sound. Unexpected.

“Gods, are you always such an overthinker?”

“I just think it would help me come to a decision.”

“Is that what this is then? Your little experiment?”

“I’m nothing if not a scientist,” you tease back.

“Alright, my dear. Your terms are acceptable. A kiss, for scientific reasons, of course.”

Of course, you say to yourself. That… is what this is, isn’t it? Simple evidence gathering?

You have no time to consider this as Astarion places a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze fully to his, and suddenly, you hear your pulse pounding loudly in your ears once more. Gods, his eyes are beautiful.

An easy smile, a tilt of his head, and he presses his lips to yours, delicate and familiar. He’s gentle, at first: his lips linger on yours a moment before kissing you again, a tender sensation. As you close your eyes and immerse yourself in the feeling, the world around you quietens. No longer do you hear the crackling of the fire as it dies, the chirps of insects, or the rustle of leaves in the breeze. 

At this moment, all you know is him.

You succumb to the coolness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, the freshness of his scent - sensations so overwhelming that your body responds of its own accord, letting free a soft moan into his mouth.

As though in response, Astarion’s hand lowers from your cheek and trails from your neck, your shoulder, to your waist, as though committing each dip of your body to memory, before pulling you closer to him. Your hands, in return, plant themselves against his chest. His body feels hard and angular against the softness of your own.

As his tongue seeks permission to dance with yours, there is a hunger; a fieriness that threatens to engulf you. The kiss deepens, and you realise with a start that your legs have entangled themselves with his.

Pull yourself together, your mind screams. You’re meant to be in control of your body, not the other way around.

Or so you think, when suddenly, Astarion’s hand moves to your arse - the cheeky sod - and he skillfully, seamlessly rolls you onto his lap, taking advantage of your entangled legs, purposefully positioning you so that you’re straddling him.

Shit.

You gasp. You had forgotten to breathe. He notices and, gods, the smug look on his face. He knows he’s taken you off guard, and worse still…

He knows the effect he’s having on you.

The wall you had carefully constructed between your mind and body begins to collapse, brick by brick. As you kiss, the final fragments fall away, and everything that was once separated threatens to come together in a powerful, unified surge of desire if not for the final threads of your self-restraint.

His body desires this as much as yours, it would seem. As you straddle him, his hands caressing you as they drag up and down your back, you notice a distinct hardness digging into you, oh so close to your core. It takes more willpower than you’ve ever known to not grind into that hardness, seeking the release which you ache for. You are a tautly drawn bow, the tension between your mental focus and physical yearning almost unbearable.

Noticing how stiff you become, Astarion retreats from your lips, tilting his head in playful curiosity.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, darling?”

“I… I…” You barely recognise your own voice as it strains to come out of you.

The bowstring snaps.

You yield.

Your mind and body merge into a mess of lust and desire, and you kiss him hard and greedily. He returns the enthusiasm in kind, releasing a groan into your mouth as he does so. You want this. You want him.

Astarion pulls himself from your lips and turns his attentions to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses where, other nights, he had sunk his fangs. As he does so, you hear his voice, husky in lust.

“You know, if you still need a little more “experimentation,” I have a couple more ideas for you…”

His voice gives you goosebumps.

“... I’m particularly skilled with my tongue, after all.”

You nod.

“Your tent or mine?”

–

As you’re pushed against the bedroll within the privacy of your tent, you’re overwhelmed by a desire to feel every inch of Astarion’s cool, hard body on yours. It was such a primal need, to be enveloped by him; an urge beyond anything you’ve experienced, causing you to wrap your arms greedily behind his neck as you kiss each other, pulling him closer, but never close enough. His hips grind against you slowly, deliberately, granting you a brief, delicious friction which sends shivers up your body and fuels the incredible ache between your legs.

Astarion sits back up on his knees, admiring the mess of you, a smile on his pretty lips. You can only imagine the state you must be in: hair wild, eyes wide and hungry, clothes dishevelled. But your appearance is a distant notion in the back of your mind as Astarion lifts the hem of your skirt and removes your undergarments, sopping wet from your arousal.

You feel vulnerable, exposed to him like this, your desire on full display in front of the very man who you spent nights dreaming about. While his lustful gaze lights a flush of red across your cheeks, it doesn’t cause you to recoil; instead, you find yourself emboldened as he lowers himself between your legs, holding your gaze with eyes hungry and hooded.

He drags his lips up your thighs, leaving kisses so teasing that brings forth the neediest of sounds from your chest. When he reaches your core, he slides a tongue up the slit of you, agonisingly slowly, painfully gently.

Head rolling back, you anticipate the feeling of his tongue within you, but then…

He diverts his attention back to your thighs.

Bastard.

“Astarion..!”

“Eager little pup, aren’t you? Don’t you worry, darling - you’ll get what you desire. Once I have my fun with you, of course.”

He shifts, propping your legs over his shoulders as he grants you an audacious glance and grazes his tongue over you once more, sending a wave of tingles radiating across your body.

You begin to pout at his teasing action, and–

His tongue enters you.

He glides it firmly from your entrance to your clit, lapping you up in one motion, releasing the most wondrous groan, as though the nectar of your arousal is sweeter than any honey.

And so, like a man starved, he devours you, gauging quickly the sensations you prefer, alternating skillfully between firm strokes of his tongue, and the most teasing of flickers across your clit.

Your back arches, and you can do nothing but grasp at the edges of your bedroll as he works at you, leaving you in a state so blissful that you don’t notice the wanton sounds being cried from your lips.

“Easy, love,” he purrs, the loss of his tongue against you causing you to whimper. “As much as I enjoy hearing those delectable sounds of yours, let’s not wake the others, hm?”

You can only cover your mouth with your hands in a feeble attempt to hush yourself as he continues his ministrations. As your eyes meet and the pleasant ache in your core begins to swell into an all-encompassing warmth across your body, you wonder if this is what it feels to be revered as a deity would, your every sensation treated with the kind of awe that only a god might know.

It is when he enters you with his fingers - first one, then two, thrusting in rhythm with his tongue - that the warmth, now an inferno, reaches its peak. It surges through you like a divine crescendo, each wave of your climax a new blessing that floods your senses with a celestial rapture, singing his name like the sweetest hymn.

He caresses your thighs as he brings you down slowly from your high, grounding you.

As you return once again to this mortal plane, the lingering euphoria elicits a fit of giggles from you.

“Well,” Astarion smiles in return, removing himself from the home he has made between your legs, “you certainly seemed to enjoy yourself.”

“I did. I really did. Thank you.”

As you both sit yourselves upright once more, he presses another kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on him.

“I hope our little experiment was very informative for you,” he says with a wink. His words are teasing, but spoken with a gentleness that surprises you.

The truth is, you do have one more idea.

“Can I, um… Can I do the same for you?”

“What?” He says a little too quickly. Noticing this, he brushes his hair back with his hand to a more presentable condition, regains his composure, and continues. “I mean, you don’t have to. To see you squirm under my touch, that’s pleasure enough for me.”

“I want to make you feel good too.”

“You want to?”

That same indecipherable expression. A man with as many notches on his bedpost as he claims must have had some less than favourable conquests every now and then… Perhaps he’s had some bad experiences when receiving too? You suddenly find yourself cursing your lack of experience in these matters. You’re not exactly brimming with social expertise either.

“I probably won’t be the best - not as good as you - but I want to try. I always find that the best way to develop one’s skills is to practise under the guidance of a trusted expert. So… could you teach me how to make you feel good?”

Your gazes linger for a moment as he seems to assess your resolve.

Seemingly satisfied, he smirks, a well-practised aura of sultriness fitting back into place once more. All traces of that mysterious expression dissipate before your eyes.

“Well, darling, if you’re so eager to please me, who am I to stop you?”

You slide up to sit next to him as he begins to unlace his trousers, and suddenly you find yourself unsure of where to look. You’ve a scholar’s knowledge of the physical form; men’s anatomy is no stranger to you from an analytical perspective. And yes, you’ve fantasised about Astarion’s… parts before, as much as you have tried to deceive yourself into believing it was nothing more than a passing, intrusive thought. Yet, now that you’re here, about to perform the most intimate of acts to your beautiful travelling companion for the first time, you become bashful. You can’t quite believe the situation you’ve gotten yourself into tonight.

Yet, as he lowers his trousers and underwear to his thighs, revealing himself to you, all thoughts of bashfulness, of anxiety, cease to be for a moment.

“Hells, Astarion.” You look upon his hardened member with disbelief, measuring its girth against your arm. “How is that going to fit inside me, exactly?”

A slip of the tongue.

He grins, very pleased with himself. “Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?”

… And there returns that familiar flush of heat to your cheeks. Shit.

His chuckling lets you know that he has, in fact, noticed your embarrassment.

Seeking to swiftly change the subject to the much more pressing matter at hand, you ask, “can I touch you?”

In wordless agreement, Astarion guides your hand to his cock, which glistens slightly from the beads of precum elicited from the head. As you hold it, his hand remains over yours, coaxing you to move up and down the shaft.

His cock isn’t warm as you would imagine a regular man’s to be, owing to his vampiric nature, but you note its hardness; the way it pulses beneath your touch; the way his foreskin glides over the head so seamlessly. You squeeze him, fascinated.

“Gently, love. Like this.” He demonstrates by applying a light pressure to your hand and twisting ever so slightly as you both reach the tip, then loosening his grip as he slides you back down his length. You repeat the motion, tentatively. Gods, you hope you're doing this right. He made you feel incredible. You want him to feel incredible too. But oh, what if you hurt him, what if you–

“A-ah…”

The softest sigh of pleasure from your companion interrupts your thoughts. It sends wonderful shivers throughout your body. You find yourself eager to coax more of those little sounds from him.

A newfound confidence flares within you, and you gradually increase your pace, up and down and up and down the shaft, squeezing and twisting lightly as your beautiful instructor taught. In a sudden bout of curiosity, you glide your thumb over the head on your way back down and–

“Ah!”

There it is again. That most delicious sound.

“Exactly like that, darling. Exactly like that.”

He removes his hand from yours as you continue to pump him - you are a fast learner, it would seem - and moves it to reach your cheek, turning you to face him. As he leans his forehead against yours, you notice his breathing has become heavier, just ever so slightly. Instinctively, your breathing begins to match his, and you feel an intensity in the air that gives you goosebumps. Then he kisses you, and it is hungry. Ravenous. Greedy. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, gripping your hair lightly, pressing your lips firmly against his.

As you continue to pleasure him, you find yourself becoming greedy too.

You want to taste him.

Between gasps for air, you ask him, “can I use my mouth on you? The way you did for me?”

“Mmhm,” he says into your kiss. It feels almost a shame to remove yourself from his lips, but you have greater plans yet. 

You both reposition yourselves. He turns to lie himself back on the bedroll, and you crawl down his body to position yourself between his legs. So close to his cock, you find yourself admiring it, taking in every detail: the thick vein on the underside of the shaft, the way the head throbs a colour darker than the rest, eager for release.

You're overwhelmed with a primal desire - a need - to please, to give.

To worship.

“Gods, it's beautiful,” you think aloud.

“I know,” he remarks confidently in return. You roll your eyes at his arrogance, but in this moment, in your eyes, even you can't deny that his cock is perfection. Your mouth waters at what is to come.

You hold his member delicately, like a jewel most precious, planting kisses up his length. A soft sound escapes from Astarion’s lips and suddenly you are emboldened, determined to gift him with bliss as he had gifted you. To do so, however, you would need a little instruction.

“Tell me how to please you,” you plead, and you feel him twitch at your words.

“You are eager,” he purrs, propping himself up with his hands to gaze down at you. You notice a shiver and a sigh, ever so slight, when you trail a line of wetness from base to tip with your tongue.

“In that case,” he continues, brushing a strand of hair from your face, granting him a better view of you, “lick your lips and hold it at the base. Then I want you to get to know it a little, so to speak. Use your mouth around the head and start slowly - there's no point in rushing in, eh?”

You obey, shaking off the lingering feelings of bashfulness at the directness of his words, and wrap your lips around him. Out of curiosity, you swirl a flattened tongue around the head and gods, his skin is so smooth, still slightly salty from precum. His cock twitches and you hear him gasp above you - he’s especially sensitive there, it would seem. 

Where are his other sensitive spots, you wonder.

Time to experiment. You are nothing if not a scientist.

You bob your head and relax your jaw to the best of your abilities, taking in just a little bit more of him each time your mouth glides up and down, keeping your tongue flat against him to flick against the sensitive tip each time you glide back up the length. The sounds he makes - oh, those sounds. His moans are like velvet, a soft, deep timbre that caresses your senses and makes your loins ache once more. Every murmur seeps into your being, igniting your senses and fuelling your need to explore every inch of him. You continue your journey down and down his length, savouring the taste and the texture and–

You gag as his cock touches your throat.

Astarion recomposes himself. “Easy, darling. Use your hand where your mouth can’t reach.”

“Like this?” Your hand pumps the shaft in rhythm with the motions of your mouth and tongue, and Astarion’s head rolls back for a moment.

“Like that,” he exhales heavily, “and suck gently.”

There’s a certain sense of empowerment, unravelling him like this. You relish in every moan that escapes his lips, every twitch and pulse of his cock as you attend to him. The lewd, wet sounds emitted as your hollowed cheeks suck his length. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers weaving through the strands with a gentle authority, pushing you hard enough to guide you to an ever-quickening rhythm, but gentle enough not to force himself down your throat.

“Use your other hand,” he says between breaths, “hold the balls softly.”

You do as he says, giving them the gentlest of squeezes as you attend to him, and his breaths grow deeper, uneven. You sense the rising tension in him, a tide gathering strength beneath the surface.

He gives one final instruction.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes meet with a stormy intensity and, as you pump up and down with your lips and fingers at a dizzying pace, the intensity seems to surge through him with the force of an ocean swell, powerful and all-encompassing.

With a tremor and a groan so delicious that you find yourself moaning instinctively in response, his cum fills your mouth. Your eyes water, taken by surprise by the force of his release, but you do your best to swallow each wave, releasing him with a wet pop as his climax subsides.

Some moments pass and, in the afterglow, the tent is filled with a comfortable, profound stillness, and only the sounds of heavy breathing - yours and his - as you both return to your senses.

“Did you just..?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“I did,” you reply with a grin, showing him your tongue to reveal that not a drop went to waste.

He laughs warmly, and your heart flutters.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He kisses you deeply as he sits up, seemingly undeterred by the taste of himself.

“I think I’ve gathered enough evidence to consider your proposition,” you say teasingly.

“Tomorrow night then, darling?”

Bastard.

But yes, you think to yourself. Tomorrow night. You’re ready.

Part 2, An Empirical Study, can be found here!

Masterlist can be found here.

[midn1ghtsworld]

Truth or Dare

(Yeseo x Male Reader)

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and I found myself hanging out with my step-sister Yeseo at her dorm. We were both bored out of our minds, so she suggested we play a game of Truth or Dare. Figuring it would be harmless fun, I agreed.

“Truth or Dare?” she asked with a mischievous grin, her eyes twinkling.

“Dare,” I replied nonchalantly, not expecting anything scandalous to come from it.

The game started off innocently enough. She dared me to sing an embarrassing song, which I gladly did. I dared her to do a funny dance, and she obliged with a goofy routine that had us both cracking up. We continued taking turns, the dares escalating in silliness as the minutes ticked by.

But as the game progressed, things started getting a bit more daring. At one point, she dared me to remove my shirt. Feeling a bit self-conscious but not wanting to look like a wimp, I begrudgingly took it off. She giggled and then followed suit, slipping off her tank top to reveal a lacy black bra underneath. I tried to maintain my composure and act like it was no big deal.

The dares kept pushing boundaries after that. Remove another article of clothing. Make a lewd joke. Get a little closer. Before I knew it, we were both down to our underwear, sitting cross-legged on her bed facing each other. The sexual tension in the room was palpable, even if neither of us wanted to acknowledge it.

Yeseo had always been a petite girl, but in that moment she looked stunning. Her pert breasts strained against the thin fabric of her bra. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander appreciatively over her exposed body. She caught me staring and smirked.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you perv?” she teased. “I bet you’re rock hard right now, staring at me in my underwear.”

I shifted uncomfortably, knowing she was right. My cock was fully erect, straining against my boxer briefs. But I tried to play it off.

“No, I’m totally fine,” I lied, crossing my arms. “Truth is, I don’t find you attractive at all. You’re just a little step sibling to me.”

Her smirk turned Into a wicked grin. “Oh yeah? Well, how about this then…” She snapped the clasp of her bra and tossed it aside, freeing her breasts. They were perfect, round and perky with dusky nipples. “I dare you to not get hard looking at these.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. The cock throbbing between my legs had other ideas. “I… I accept your dare,” I said, trying to sound unaffected even as my erection grew more insistent.

Yeseo leaned back on her hands, arching her back to thrust out her chest. “Well? What do you think? Pretty ridiculous, right? Just some little girl tits.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away. They were anything but ridiculous. I was entranced by the perky mounds and tantalizing buds. My cock was now leaking precum, making a damp spot on my briefs. I knew she could see it.

My mouth went dry, her perfect tits bouncing free. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as she shimmied out of her shorts and panties too.

Standing there in all her naked glory, Yeseo placed a hand on her cocked hip and smirked. “Well? I’d say that’s a pretty epic dare. You gonna admit defeat?”

I swallowed hard, all too aware of my rock hard cock straining against my jeans. Shit. I scrambled for a comeback.

“Please, you didn’t think a little skin would be enough to impress me, did you? I’m not some virginal schoolboy, Yeseo.”

I could practically see the gears turning in her head as I goaded her. “Oh yeah? Well I guess I’ll just have to try harder then…”

I grinned, knowing her competitive spirit would make her eager to accept any dare I threw her way. "You're on," I said with a smirk. "Truth or dare?"

Yeseo tapped her chin, pretending to ponder it. But I knew she'd choose dare every time. "Okay, dare," she said finally, winking at me.

I leaned back in the couch, putting my hands behind my head in a gesture of nonchalance. "All right, here's your dare. Get on your knees and pleasure me with your mouth. If you really think you're hot shit, prove it. Show me you're not just a tease who can't even satisfy her own boyfriend, if you think you can handle it."

I'd deliberately chosen a task I knew would shatter her ego, banking on her pride and determination to take me up on the challenge. Sure enough, Yeseo's eyes flashed with anger and she clutched the cushions. "Oh, I'm so going to make you cum in like, 60 seconds flat," she hissed. "We'll see who's laughing then."

I chuckled, not expecting her to actually follow through. But Yeseo glared at me with stormy eyes before rising from the couch and sinking to her knees between my legs. My smirk faded as she reached out and slowly unzipped my fly, pulling out my cock.

"You asked for it," she muttered. Then she wrapped her hand around my shaft and took me into her hot mouth.

I groaned at the sensations, my eyes rolling back as Yeseo enthusiastically sucked and bobbed her head. She was incredibly skilled, swirling her tongue and hollowing her cheeks as she deep throated me to the hilt.

But I'd been playing with myself for a while now and wasn't about to let her win so easily. I reached down to grab a fistful of Yeseo's dark hair, holding her head in place as I rolled my hips, fucking her face hard and fast.

Yeseo's eyes started to water from the rough treatment but she didn't resist, submitting to my forceful thrusts. Saliva dripped down her chin as she gagged and choked around my thick cock stretching her throat.

I could feel my orgasm building but I grit my teeth, determined to make her work for it. "You thought you'd have me cumming already, sis? Think again," I panted.

Yeseo just moaned around my shaft, the vibrations making my cock twitch. She was a natural at this. I pulled her off me suddenly and she gasped for air, tears streaking her cheeks.

But before she could say anything, I yanked her head back down and buried myself balls-deep in her eager mouth. With a strangled cry, I exploded, spilling my hot seed down Yeseo's throat.

She sputtered and coughed, struggling to swallow my load, but I just held her in place, pumping stream after stream of jizz into her mouth until I was spent. Finally I released her, and Yeseo fell back on her ass, gasping and wiping her face.

"Fuck you," she croaked, glaring up at me. "You came so much! I almost choked."

I laughed, tucking myself back into my pants. "You're the one who was so sure she'd have me cumming in seconds. Looks like I won this round."

Yeseo scowled, her face flushed. "This isn't over, you know. I'll get you back for that."

"Looking forward to it," I said with a wink.

“Alright, I dare you to eat my pussy,” she said with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “And not just that – I dare you to make me cum in under a minute. Think you can do that, oppa?”

I was taken aback by her boldness, but I tried not to show it. Yeseo was always getting under my skin, but I wasn’t about to let her win this round. “Sure thing,” I said coolly. “I’ll have you cumming in no time.”

Yeseo let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re such a fool. There’s no way you’ll be able to make me cum that fast. I bet you’ve never even gone down on a girl before.”

I felt my cheeks flush at her words, but I refused to let her get to me. “Oh yeah? Well, we’ll see about that.”

She spread her legs, revealing her glistening pussy.

I knelt down between her legs, my heart pounding in my chest. Yeseo had always been the wild child of the family, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fantasized about her before. But this wasn’t about that – this was about winning the dare.

I immediately dove in, my tongue immediately finding her clit. Yeseo gasped at the contact, her body tensing up. I licked and sucked at her sensitive nub, my fingers sliding inside her tight heat.

“S-Shit!!,” Yeseo breathed, her hands fisting in my hair. “Fuck, just like that.”

I increased my pace, my tongue swirling around her clit as I pumped my fingers in and out of her. Yeseo’s hips bucked against my mouth, her moans filling the room.

Yeseo was moaning and squirming against my face as I ate her out enthusiastically. “Ohh fuck, just like that! Mmm your tongue feels so good!”

“Oh god, oh fuck,” she panted, her thighs clamping around my head. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum!”

I doubled my efforts, my tongue flicking rapidly over her clit as I curled my fingers inside her, hitting that special spot. “W-wait… FUCK!!!” Yeseo let out a scream, her body convulsing as she came hard.

And just like that, it was over. Yeseo collapsed back against the bed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. I sat back on my heels, a smug grin spreading across my face.

“Thirty two seconds,” I said, glancing at my watch. “Looks like I won this round.”

Yeseo glared at me, her face flushed a deep red. “Shut up,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. “You got lucky, that’s all.”

“My turn, Yeseo,” I called out, smirking at Yeseo sprawled out on the couch, her skirt hiked up and discarded bra dangling from the coffee table. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead and bikini line. “Truth or d-?”

Yeseo’s lips curled up into a sly grin. Before I could even finish my sentence, she pounced, straddling my lap with her bare pussy hovering mere inches from my crotch. “Enough playing around. I dare you to fuck my brains out until I cum. I need you to fill this pussy with your cum,” she purred, grinding her wet slit against my already rock hard erection.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my hips bucking up involuntarily to meet her teasing movements. Yeseo reached down to my throbbing cock, wrapping her fingers around the thick shaft. She guided the swollen head to her dripping entrance, coating me in her slick arousal.

Without warning, Yeseo slammed her hips downward, engulfing my entire length inside her tight, gripping channel in one swift motion. “Ahhh! Yes, so big!” she cried out, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Oooh fuuuck!" she moaned as she began to bounce on my cock. "Your dick feels even better than I imagined!"

I gripped her hips, struggling to maintain some semblance of control as she began to ride me hard and fast. Yeseo’s tits jiggled mesmerizingly with each thrust. I reached up and cupped her breasts, kneading the soft mounds and pinching her nipples. She let out a sharp cry and rode me even more vigorously.

“Fuck yes, play with my tits while you pound me!” she panted.

Her pussy walls started to flutter around my cock and I knew she was close. “You gonna cum on your oppa’s dick, Yeseo?” I asked breathlessly.

Lewd squelching noises filled the room as she impaled herself over and over on my cock. “Y-yes! You like fucking your step-sister’s cunt, don’t you? Mmm, I can feel you throbbing inside me,” she panted, her velvety walls fluttering around my shaft.

I abruptly stood, holding her ass as I pounded into her from below. Yeseo shrieked in surprise, clinging to my shoulders.

“Yessss! Don’t stop, I’m almost…I’m gonna…AHHH FUCK I’M CUMMING!!” Yeseo threw her head back and wailed as her orgasm overtook her. Her velvety insides spasmed around me rhythmically, squeezing my shaft like a vice.

Yeseo collapsed onto the couch, boneless and spent. I smirked down at her, still rock hard and rutting shallowly between her quivering thighs. “That was hot, but it’s still my turn. I dare you to ride my cock again and make me cum,” I said, voice rough with lust.

She looked up at me from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “Mmm, I thought you’d never ask,” Yeseo purred. In a show of strength, she suddenly flipped our positions, pushing me onto the couch cushions and straddling my lap once more.

Yeseo grasped my throbbing erection, notching the bulbous head at her slick entrance. Then with a swift, fluid motion, she sank down to the hilt, taking every thick inch into her fluttering heat. “Ohhh yesss, fill me up!” she keened, undulating her hips.

I sat up, wrapping my arms around her waist and hauling her flush against my chest. Yeseo mewled in pleasure, her pert nipples grazing my skin. “Kiss me,” I demanded, nipping at her jaw.

Yeseo crashed her lips to mine in a heated kiss, her tongue delving into my mouth. She rocked into me, each thrust harder and faster than the last. My hands roamed her sweat-slicked skin, squeezing her ass and kneading her tits.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good,” I groaned against her lips, my hips snapping up to meet her downward thrusts. Yeseo moaned into my mouth, her walls starting to flutter around my pistoning cock.

Suddenly, she broke the kiss, pulling back to look me dead in the eyes. “I dare you to cum inside me. Fill your step-sister with your hot seed,” Yeseo panted, gyrating her hips seductively.

The combination of her filthy words and the tight, wet heat engulfing my shaft sent me hurtling over the edge. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” I roared, my cock pulsing and throbbing violently as I erupted deep inside her spasming cunt.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” Yeseo babbled, eyes rolling back in her head from the intense pleasure. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

Rope after rope of my thick, potent cum flooded her channel, overflowing to drip down her thighs. Yeseo shuddered and mewled, her own release crashing over her at the sensation of my hot seed painting her insides.

We collapsed together in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs, chests heaving as we came down from our mutually mind-blowing orgasms. I captured Yeseo’s lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

“Fuck, that was intense,” I murmured against her lips. She giggled and nuzzled into my neck, completely uncaring of our compromising position.

But I wasn’t nearly done with her yet. Even as Yeseo melted bonelessly against me, I could feel my cock already starting to harden again inside her. She was still so tight and wet and I craved more of that delicious friction. Without warning, I flipped our positions, pressing her onto her back against the cushions. Yeseo’s eyes flew open in surprise. “A-again?” she stammered, a deep blush staining her cheeks. I just smirked down at her wolfishly as I notched myself at her entrance and thrust back inside with one smooth stroke.

“Ahh! It’s too much!” she yelped, hands scrabbling at my shoulders. But her body was already responding, hips canting up to meet my movements. I set a hard, driving pace, the wet squelch of her overflowing arousal filling the room. Yeseo’s breasts bounced with each snap of my hips and I dipped my head to take a nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the stiff peak. "Yes, oppa, just like that! Fuck me harder! Destroy my tight little cunt with your huge cock!" She keened and arched beneath me, the breathy keen ripping from her throat turning to a sharp cry as I pinched and rolled her other nipple between my fingers.

“That’s it, Yeseo,” I grunted, hammering into her harder, feeling my balls draw up tight. “Gonna fill up this naughty cunt. You want my cum, don’t you?”

“Yes!” she practically screamed. “Breed me like a bitch in heat! I want to feel you explode deep in my pussy again!”

Yeseo writhed under my ministrations, lost to the pleasure. Her pussy clamped down around me like a vice, fluttering wildly as I fucked her through her release. I swallowed her scream with my mouth, still hammering into her as she came undone with me lodged deep inside her. With a final burst of speed, I buried myself to the hilt one last time and let go, pumping what felt like endless spurts of cum directly into her spasming cunt. "Oh god," she whined, her eyes rolling back in her head. "So full of your cum already...fuck, I can feel you twitching inside me again." Yeseo went limp as a rag doll beneath me, her eyes sliding shut as she passed out from the intensity.

For a moment, I just stayed there, still deeply seated inside her fluttering pussy, admiring my handiwork. She looked so pretty with the mix of our releases trickling out around my softening cock. I slowly pulled out, groaning at the feel of her stretched hole gaping open. I’d filled her up so much, my seed was starting to overflow and run down her thigh.

[shybluebirdninja]

Naughty Secrets

Summary: Logan's quiet crush on you turns into an unexpected obsession when he finds your used underwear in your room.

Pairing           : Mutan!Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Note               : masturbation, erotic obsession

Logan leaned against the kitchen counter, casually sipping his beer, while you gathered your things to head out for the evening. The soft sound of your laughter echoed around the apartment, filling him with warmth. You turned to him, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up, okay?” you said, flashing a bright smile. Logan felt his heart race, a flicker of something deep within him igniting.

“Sure, no problem. Just don’t get into too much trouble,” he teased, trying to keep it light, even though his mind was swirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite voice. You rolled your eyes playfully, waving goodbye as you headed out the door.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, a heavy silence filled the apartment, and Logan felt the familiar pang of longing wash over him. With you gone, a potent mix of curiosity and desire consumed him. He hesitated for a moment, feeling the magnetic pull of your room. After a moment, he made his way to your door, heart racing as he pushed it open.

The room was like a shrine to you—the faint scent of your favorite perfume still lingered in the air, mingling with something more intoxicating. As Logan's eyes roamed your space, he stumbled upon a pair of your used panties tossed aside carelessly on the bed. They beckoned to him, their fabric wrinkled and stained, a testament to your absence and a thrill he couldn’t resist.

“God, what am I doing?” he muttered to himself, his breath hitching as he picked them up, the softness sending shivers down his spine. Bringing them closer, he inhaled deeply, the scent igniting a primal hunger within him. This is so wrong, but I can’t stop.

Thoughts of you flooded his mind—how carefree you were, how you laughed, the way your hair danced around your shoulders. But now, you were just a fantasy he couldn’t shake. “You don’t know how much I want you,” he whispered, gripping the fabric tighter as he sank onto the edge of your bed.

As he held the delicate material to his face, he savored the intoxicating aroma. His fingers brushed over the fabric, imagining your skin beneath it, picturing the way you moved, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t watching.

He growled lowly, “What would you do if you knew? Would you laugh? Would you push me away?” But he was lost in the thrill, losing himself in the fantasies swirling in his mind. “Maybe you’d want this too. Maybe you’d beg for it.”

Logan couldn't hold back any longer. He slid a hand down his body, stroking himself slowly, feeling the heat build as he lost himself in the moment. “Just one taste,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the fabric. He licked the material, tasting remnants of you, groaning at the deliciously filthy act.

With every kiss, every lick, he imagined you right there with him. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “I want to hear you moan my name, to feel you beneath me, begging for more.”

His breath quickened, and his grip tightened around himself, pleasure building as he continued to worship the very essence of you. “Just imagine the things I could do to you,” he fantasized, heart racing, pulse pounding. “I’d make you feel so good, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”

The thought of your body writhing under his touch, your soft moans filling the air, sent him spiraling deeper into lust. He envisioned pressing you against the wall, feeling your warmth against him as he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. “I’d show you exactly what you do to me, how much I crave you.”

Logan surrendered to the dark cravings that had been brewing for far too long, lost in a haze of desire and desperation. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, gripping your panties tighter, breathing in your scent, feeling himself teeter on the edge of madness. “You’re my secret obsession, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

The line between right and wrong blurred as he surrendered to the hunger inside him, knowing he’d do anything to have you, to make you his.

[obsessed-with-wwe-women]

Champions Rules

R. Ripley x fem!reader

cw: smut, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, clit play, oral (r receiving), fingering, degradation + praise, domme!rhea, mami/mommy kink, mentions of alcohol

lowercase intended / not proofread, i’m a little rusty bare with me

she did it.

i mean, you knew she would but that didn’t make you any less proud. you smiled as you stared at the screen in front of you, as rhea held her title high up in the air on the biggest stage of them all.

this was a huge night for her. she opened up night one of wrestlmania with one of the best, she had her favorite band sing her out, and she won.

the look of pure happiness on her face was enough to tear up, especially when you saw her start to herself before she covered it up. you were so proud of her, she worked so hard to get here. she fucking deserved this.

she eventually made her way backstage, and when she did you ran to her, jumping in her arms and planting kisses all over her face. rhea’s arms wrapped around you with a smile as she spun you around.

“you did it!” you squealed excitedly, smiling down at the australian.

“did you doubt me?” she joked. not funny. “never in a million years.” you grinned as you placed a soft kiss on her lips. “i’m so proud of you.” you whispered against her lips before pulling away.

rhea’s eyes beamed at you as she gave you a grateful smile, giving you one more kiss before putting you down.

the rest of the night was crazy. damian had the great idea of going to the nearest club for a celebration. now, you were about 3 drinks deep as you dragged your unwilling girlfriend to the dance floor. rhea had only had one, but it was strong.

“you know i don’t dance, y/n.” she slurred slightly. you gave her a small pout, and she rolled her eyes before her hands found your hips, swaying to the beat with you. you grinned, wrapping your arms over her shoulders as you got on your tiptoes to kiss her. rhea kissed back, squeezing your hips in her hands.

she danced with you for a few minutes, but when you turned to grind your ass against her front she quickly turned you around.

“i want you.” she whispered. “not.” kiss. “here.” kiss. you replied, kissing her between each word. rhea’s hands squeezed again as her head ducked into the crook of your neck.

“i’ll take you wherever i please, and you know it.” she husked by your ear, her voice deep and her accent thick. you whined softly, tugging gently at her hair. “can’t wait to do whatever i want with you, pretty girl. my big night, you know? champions rules.” her words shot a wave a heat to your core. “take me home, rhe.” you whispered before placing a kiss to her cheek.

-

“god, you’re so fucking beautiful.” rhea’s breath was hot against your ear as she had you pressed against the door of your hotel. “you are.” was all you could reply, her teeth gently biting down on the skin of your neck. “yeah? you think so?” she teased as her knee spread your thighs, pushing your dress up over your hips.

“i bet if i stuck my hand inside of these cute little panties you’re wearing right now,” she snapped the band of the purple lacy material you wore just for her. “i’d find you soaked, wouldn’t i?” rhea smirked as your cheeks grew pink. “huh? answer me, baby.”

rhea’s left hand gripped your chin, making you look up at her. it was enough of a distraction for you to not notice where her right hand was heading.

“ye- fuck!” you cried out as rhea’s finger pressed harshly against your throbbing clit. “sorry, what were you saying?” she teased once more.

“you can be a real bitch sometimes.” you got out between choked moans. “oh? yeah?” rhea’s tone was mocking as she pressed harder. “you wanna say that again, slut?” rhea growled, pinching your clit between her fingers. “fuck! i-i’m sorry, mommy.” you whimpered, a mix of pleasure and pain shooting through your body.

“awh, poor baby. you’re sorry?” she cooed, using her free hand to pet your hair. you looked up at her with hooded, teary eyes. “my pretty girl.” she smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth softly before slipping two of her fingers inside of you.

“always so tight for me.” rhea groaned, using her thumb to play with your clit while her fingers pumped into you slowly. your cunt fluttered against her fingers when she added more pressure to your bud, and she giggled softly as she noticed. “yeah? you like that?” she asked, doing it again.

you could only nod quickly against the door as you felt your orgasm approaching. “i’m close, mommy.” you breathe out, hands gripping at her wrist. rhea doesn’t say anything, she just smirks and leans in, places a rough kiss to your lips.

she moaned into your mouth when you tightened around her, pulling her deeper into your dripping cunt. “come on baby, you can do it.” she whispered softly as she peppered kisses over your face. “be a good girl and cum on mommy’s fingers.”

that did it. within seconds after her request your mouth fell open with a cry of her name, and your thighs squeezing around her hand. rhea talked you through it, and once you calmed down she pulled her fingers out of you. you whined softly at the emptiness, but almost immediately you were cut off by a gasp as rhea brought her fingers into her mouth to taste you.

“i want the real thing now.” she said, and before you could even comprehend her words she picked you up and walked you to the bed. she gently placed you down, stripping your dress off of you. rhea’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the matching bra she had on, but what caught her eye was the silver ‘R’ in the middle. you smiled sweetly at her. “like it?” you asked hopefully.

“i love it, baby. my letter looks good on you.” she smirked before leaning to hover over you. “but i think you’d look better with it off.” she husked before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, impressively with one hand. the moment the material was away, rhea’s lips were wrapped around your nipple.

“shit, rhe.” you sighed, tossing your head back. she hummed against you, switching to show the other one some love before slipping between your thighs. you were dripping at this point.

“all for me.” rhea moaned lowly as she licked through you. your back arched and your hips bucked against her with a cry. rhea’s arms held your hips down as she sucked your sensitive clit into her mouth. you could barely hold the noises you were making, even with a hand slapped over your mouth. you could never last long with her like this, especially if she’s already made you cum before.

“mommy!” you whimpered as your hands tugged at her hair, pulling her closer. rhea moaned against you once more as the soft pain shot down her spine from her head. her tongue piercing rubbed against you in all the right ways, and within seconds she had you shaking. “i’m gonna cum, mami.” you got out the best you could between choked moans.

all she did was nod, and it was clear she wasn’t pulling away until she was finished. it was only a couple minutes until your back arched off of the bed once more and you spilled into her mouth. rhea’s licks slowed down as she took her time to clean you up, not wasting anything.

“could be here all day, you know?” rhea said as she kissed your thigh. your head felt fuzzy and the only things leaving your mouth were quiet whines. “already, baby? i’m not even getting started.” rhea playfully teased as she sat up, gently running her finger through your slit once more. she rubbed slow, soft circles as she waited for you to say something.

“i’m okay, mami. m’just sensitive.” you mumbled, squirming as she sped up a little.

“well that’s good, just you wait, sweetheart. mami wants you to wear her title while she fucks you.” she smirked before getting off the bed and walking over to her bag.

[wileys-russo]

body slammer II a.russo

body slammer II a.russo

alessia was dancing like a mad woman beside ella in the poolside beach club, her carefree good mood fueled by many cocktails and the company of some of her best friends in the off season during a well earned little vacation.

it felt like years since she had been able to take a proper break and go on holiday, and to do it with the girls she hardly ever got to see all together from multiple aspects of her life only made it all the more enjoyable and easy for her to let loose knowing everyone was actually gettin along.

“less i’m gonna grab another one! you good?” ella yelled to her, cupping her hand around her ear due to deafening house music pumping around them.

“yeah i’m still goin!” alessia confirmed, yelling back and holding up her drink she’d only taken a few sips out of, the shorter girl beside her sending her a toothy grin and thumbs up before melting away into the crowd.

looking around and spotting the rest of their group not too far away alessia started to make her way over there, mumbling apologies as she elbowed her way through the throng of drunken party goers.

she had almost made it to her friends when she felt someone slam into her back, sending her hurtling forward and meaning her own body smacked into someone else’s, her drink going all over them as alessias eyes widened.

she opened her mouth to immediately ramble out a hasty apology but as the girl she’d just accidentally swilled turned around alessia seemingly went mute, apology drying up on her tongue before she could make it.

the girl was gorgeous, and it had alessia feeling light headed in a way she knew wasn’t just the alcohol currently pumping through her.

“i am so so sorry!” the blonde finally managed to spit out, the mystery girl simply grinning at her. “don’t be. i’d never wear anything here i didn’t expect to be covered in some sort of liquid, its like a zoo in there!” she laughed nodding behind alessia to the thickening crowd of sweaty bodies building behind her.

“you’re telling me, though i think whoever just rammed me might have actually realigned my spine?” alessia joked, stomach fluttering as she was rewarded with a loud bout of laughter from the girl in front of her.

“sounds like you should go thank them! chiropractors don’t come cheap you know.” the girl teased, her nose scrunching up as she grinned and alessia once more swooned.

“can i buy you another drink?” the blonde moved a little closer due to the noise and offered sincerely. “you’re offering to get me a drink when you just spilled yours?” you asked with an amused smile, alessia’s cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as she nodded none the less.

“you’re cute. i should go find my friends before one of them disappears in there, once calvin harris starts later i fear i may not ever be able to get them back.” you’d grinned, and before alessia could even say another word you’d pressed a kiss to her cheek and you were gone, leaving the blonde tenderly touching her face which burned where your lips had just been.

with a deflated huff she dumped her now empty cup onto a nearby table and continued on her way to find her friends, throwing herself down onto a sun lounge.

“woah now! we’re in ibiza baby, why the long face?” katie asked as she sat down beside the blonde. “i bumped into a cute girl, spilled my drink all over her and didn’t even get her name before she dissapeared!” alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face before flicking her sunglasses off the top of her head and sliding them onto the bridge of her nose.

“i’ll say it again we’re in ibiza russo there’s loads of fit girls around, go find someone else to dance and flirt with!” katie shouted, handing the blonde her drink to finish off and running away after vic who snatched her sunglasses off her head.

sculling the last few mouthfuls of the lukewarm tequila alessia winced at the alcohol burning it’s way down her throat before deciding to heed anna’s words.

she grabbed ella’s hand as her friend returned, dragging them both back onto the dance floor.

but hard as she tried to dance and drink the afternoon away to forget you, you were a thought that consistently lingered in the back of alessia’s mind.

which is why when she heard someone call out her name and quickly turned, knocking into someone who stood a lot closer than she had bargained, alessias hands quickly steadying them as they slipped, a smile tugged at her lips seeing she had once again bumped into you, literally.

“i’m beginning to think you’re doing this on purpose now!” you teased, alessia instantly noticing you’d ditched the top she’d spilled her drink all over last time and your top half was now only just covered by a bright green bikini. it took all of her willpower to focus her eyes on you and not your partially exposed chest.

“no i think this time’s on you!” alessia grinned, her left hand resting on your waist where she’d grabbed at you to stop you from falling over. “alessia.” the blonde removed her hand from your side and held it out with a beaming white toothed smile as she introduced herself.

“then consider us even!” you winked, cheekily snatching her drink from her right hand and once again melting away into the crowd.

“hey! you pinch my drink and i don’t even get to know your name?” alessia didn’t let you get away so easily this time, shouldering her way over to you and slinging an arm lazily around your waist to stop you from running away again.

“i believe in fate alessia, so let’s see if this happens again then and maybe you can get my name if you’re lucky.” you shamelessly flirted, sending her one more wink and again kissing her cheek before charging off after your friends into the crowd.

“unbelievable.” alessia threw her head back with a groan before hands fell to her shoulders and her friends surrounded her, dragging her away with them as the sun began to set, bathing the cluster of drunken sweaty bodies below in a golden orange glow.

deciding that it clearly wasn’t meant to be, alessia didn’t even know your name let alone if you were into girls, she forced you once again to the back of her mind, throwing down shots and cheering loudly as they announced calvin harris.

“let’s go!” hands intertwined with hers as her group pushed in closer toward the stage, alessia almost tripping over her own feet she was tugged aggressively into the crowd, though she waved it off with a tipsy laugh as she hugged her friends and whooped loudly as the familiar bass started to boom beneath their feet.

the set was halfway through when alessia once again spotted you, huddled a few feet away inbetween a group of girls and throwing your head back with a laugh as one of them poked at you, twirling you around and forcing alessia ignored the weird jealous clenching of her stomach at the sight.

she heard her friends yell out for her as she began to break away from them, fueled by tequila shots and liquid confidence she shrugged off their hands and made a beeline toward you.

unbeknownst to alessia you’d already spotted her a few moments earlier, yelling in your friends ear that the girl you’d been flirting with before had indeed found you again like you hoped.

which was why it came as no surprise to you when your best friend twirled you around, “accidentally” shoving you backwards and sending your body hurtling into alessia’s whose hands again grabbed protectively at your hips to stop you from taking the two of you down onto the ground.

“we simply have to stop meeting like this.” you grinned, your friend winking at you from behind the blonde and holding her drink up in a silent cheers before turning away back to your group.

“third time seems the charm then, i’m alessia.” the taller girl wasted no time introducing herself again, knowing it meant you would need to finally reveal your own name.

“so you already said.” you teased, purposefully not giving in to what you knew she was after and watching the girl in front of you shake her head with a knowing smirk.

“it’s not nice to lie, i believe you said if this happened again i’d finally get your name.” alessias body pressed in closer to yours, her hand moving to sit at the small of your back as your own stomach now fluttered.

“I said if you were lucky!”

“well i’m certainly feeling lucky. if i do get your name then maybe you’ll be forgiven for stealing two drinks from me.”

“stealing two drinks? i think you’ll find i’m the one whose still owed an apology body slammer!”

“give me your name and maybe you’ll get a third drink and an apology.” alessia bargained, tilting her head with a sly grin as you shook your own in amusement.

“y/n.” you finally revealed, someone knocking into you from behind meaning you were thrust even closer into alessia, both of you now chest to chest as you both shared a smile, clearly not minding.

“come on then body slammer.” you grabbed her hand tugging her with you as alessia laughed at her apparent new nickname, the music getting louder and louder as pushed deeper into the crowd.

alessia tensed in surprise as you stopped and grabbed her hands, placing them on you as you started to dance, purposefully pressing yourself into her.

recovering from the brief shock the blonde wasted no time in pulling your body tightly into hers, the two of you grinding against one another to the beat, surrounded by hundreds of drunken party goers all doing the same.

by the third song you’d turned so the two of you were now dancing face to face and alessia couldn’t help but find her eyes flickering down to your lips every few seconds, a habit which didn’t go unnoticed to you as your arms wrapped around the back of her neck.

the two of you now locked eyes and you nodded reassuringly as the taller girl leant down but paused briefly, craning your neck to meet her halfway, both of your stomachs doing backflips as your lips met.

neither one of you sober it didn’t take long until the kiss became a little sloppy, alessia ramming her tongue down your throat as you held back a moan and forced yourself to pull away.

over her shoulder you noticed one of your friends frantically waving toward you, struggling to hold up your best friend who had clearly had too much to drink, signalling they were leaving.

leaning in again you shouted your phone number into the blondes ear, removing her hands from where they’d wandered dangerously low down your body and striding off toward your friends without another word, leaving the striker positively dumbstruck behind you.

“i better get a message body slammer, you still owe me that third drink, and an apology!” you turned to call out teasingly toward her, alessias once defeated expression quickly brightening as she scrambled to pull her phone out of her bag.

and it was safe to say you most certainly did get a message, and it was far from the last you saw of the blonde.

[klausysworld]

can u write something about damon just being soft and whipped for his girl. just need a damon fluffy fic rn 😩😩

Everything to him

Damon stood with his arms around his girl’s waist as she finished her makeup in the mirror. His chin on top her head as he watched as she layered the romantic red lipstick onto her soft plump lips. He could only hope to have their prints all over him by later that night as she looked herself over.

“You look perfect” he mumbled when she frowned a little and tilted her head. “There’s absolutely nothing I would change, in fact although the makeup has you looking all this much sexier, even without you wear the face of an angel” he purred seeing her lips lift into a smile and her head turn to look at him.

“I’d say flattery gets you no where but it seems to have gotten you rather far as of now” she lifted her arms over his head and round his neck while batting her lashes as him. He pulled her closer so his lips ghosted hers and his eyes dropped at the feeling of her fingers in his hair.

“I only tell the truth to you” he whispered gravelly and she hummed in reply, scratching at his head slowly knowing how it affected him. His eyes shut and pressed his forehead to hers “god I love you” he muttered and her smile grew

“I love you Damon Salvatore” she grinned and he tilted his head slightly to have his lips against hers. He allowed her to take the lead, moving her mouth against his and Brighton’s her other hand up to cup his face as both his hands slid up her back to hold the tops of her arms.

“You’re going to ruin my hair” he muttered and she laughed lightly against his lips before pulling back to look at him, her fingers running through each lock

“I like it messy” she decided before brushing it through with her hands and positioning it in a way that she found suited him best. His eyes glossed over as he watched her loving smile and felt her gentle touches. Her fingertips dances down the back of his neck and round to the front before she adjusted his leather, pulling it tighter on him and wetting her painted lips. Her palms smoothed down his chest, her deep red nails dragging down his black t-shirt before pulling up the hem only to groan at his display of abs. Her thumb tracing his happy trail and stopping at the top of his low-hanging jeans. Her fingers skimming over his belt in a teasing manner.

“Y/n…” he muttered feeling his body getting aroused by her actions “we have a reservation”he reminded, a breath of air leaving him as her hand cupped his crotch through his trousers “baby…” he whispered “you can almost never get a table there”

She sighed and gave him a light squeeze, listened to him grunt and then fixed his shirt and stepped back admiring him “okay…but after…” she pouted and he nodded eagerly

“After you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

She bit her bottom lip gently and held her hand out which he quickly took with a lustful smirk in place.

He kept a hand in hers the whole drive there, only breaking the hold for a second as they got out the car before an arm was back round her hips. She smoothed her cherry coloured dress down, adjusting it to rest a little lower on her thighs as it had ridden up in the car. His gaze dropped to her heels which make a distinct ‘click’ with each step she took. His eyes followed back up her gorgeous legs, along her beautiful figure and back to her face. Watching as she spoke to the waiter at the front who was finding their reservation in the system with a bashful blush on his cheeks as she flashed her pearly white teeth. Damon knew how easy it was to get lost in her charm.

He was barely aware of the world around them as he followed her to their table by the window, overlooking the sunset which was already meeting the stary night sky. Menus were slipped into both their hands and wine glasses filled as though the staff just knew what they would order.

She looked to him with admiration in her eyes and his lips curled up “I can’t believe you managed to book us in here” she whispered and he smiled back

“I can’t believe you almost had us miss our time slot, we only just made it”

“I’m sure I would’ve made up for it”

his mouth formed a lip lifted grin in response and he glanced down to his wine glass “I don’t doubt that, not for even a second” he muttered under his breath and she offered him another award winning smile which consequently brought his own upon his lips.

Her foot slipped out of her heel to leisurely brush along his leg as their food came and they engaged in pointless yet meaningful conversation and ate their meals. And for one of those rare moments, he felt like he was human again. He felt no urges, no lust for blood or chaos, he was calm. Happy.

He loved Y/n in ways he had never explored. Ways he wasn’t sure how to but he did them regardless and if he was doing it wrong, she didn’t tell him. She just helped him feel it, she chose him first and loved him and solely him and it was all he had ever wanted. All he had ever needed.

His mind often wondered at times like this, just listening to her voice and watching her lips move, and then the way her eyes would shine under the light and her hair would bounce over her shoulders as she waved her hands around in unnecessary gestures.

He knew he was smiling like a teenage boy with a crush but he couldn’t help it, even when she stopped talking and just grinned back at him knowingly. Her hand finding his and squeezing gently as their desserts were placed before them.

“If you’d like…we could skip dessert” Damon whispered suggestively making her smile

“Oh but then we’d have wasted our reservation” she sighed and leaned back in her seat, digging into her sweet dish and watching his eyes darken over slightly before he looked down to his food and begrudgingly ate the heavenly portion.

By the time they had both finished, paid and gotten to the door, a horrific amount of rain was bouncing off the ground.

Y/n turned her head to him before swiping the car keys from his hand and dashing for car making him let out a laugh and chase after her, completely forgetting his vampire abilities and just managing to get into the car before she locked it. Both of them looked at each other with large smiles on their faces before each bursting into fits of laughed and flicking their hands at one another to throw rain-water on their faces.

Eventually they got home and Damon had he run his arms, spinning in circles and running for the ridiculously big bathtub so they could soak together in the warmth of both the water and each others arms.

[arieslost]

sky full of stars | ln4

summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.

word count: 3,615

warnings: drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

2021

You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.

But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.

Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.

You needed a closer look.

So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.

When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.

“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.

You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.

You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.

“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”

He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”

That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.

Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”

At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.

“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.

The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.

2022

You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.

He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.

“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”

“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”

You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.

Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.

It was working.

Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.

“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.

“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”

You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.

“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”

He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.

“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.

“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”

Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.

You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.

“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.

“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

2023

You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.

Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.

“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.

“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”

Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.

At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.

“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.

“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.

“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.

“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.

He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.

2024

You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.

You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.

“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.

“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”

“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.

You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.

You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.

So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.

“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.

“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.

“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”

He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?

He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.

“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.

You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”

Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.

Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.

You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”

Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”

“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”

“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.

“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.

It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.

“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”

You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.

“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”

He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”

The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.

“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.

“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”

note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee

[limethefirst]

Could I request a platonic Wolverine x Innocent Reader x Deadpool where the reader is a superhero and the two want to take care of them and shows them the ropes but argue about how to do it?

No pressure or rush, hope you’re having a wonderful day/night!

-W.P 💚

Hero in training

pairings: Wolverine x reader x Deadpool (platonic)

warnings: violence, swearing

summary: Wade and Logan don’t see eye to eye when it comes to training methods

a/n: thank you for requesting! I wasn’t super sure in what way you wanted reader to be innocent so please forgive me if this isn’t to your best liking, also I’m gonna start working on part 3 of void runners soon so keep an eye out!🫢

No one ever said being a superhero was easy, but it especially wasn’t easy when you were being trained by both the Wolverine and Deadpool. The two people who hardly ever got along.

You watched as Wade and Logan stood in front of you, Logan wearing casual training clothes and Wade in his normal red suit. Wade looked excited, he was ready to show you his ways but Logan had another approach in mind.

“Alright kid, first we need to learn to control your powers, from there we can begin with some drills, slowly moving up to advanced drills then work more on strength training” Logan started, his plan was to train your powers and then learn some moves with them, hoping it would help you in the self defense aspect of crime fighting.

This was something Wade didn’t find appealing, “Woah back the fuck up now Peanut” Logan glared at the man, before Wade continued, “Remember we’re both training them, and I say we need some more fun in this training, maybe learn some cool flashy moves, or we can start off this party with a dance off!”

“A dance off?” You looked at Wade, a bit confused on his method of teaching but not entirely against it.

Logan on the other hand didn’t appreciate the comment, “This isn’t some type of circus act, this is real life Wade, we need to have some type of approach or we won’t make progress, and all that will happen is they get injured out there,” you looked between the two men, wishing someone else had trained you instead.

“Well why don’t we just see what our little sugar plum fairy thinks,” Wade then turned back over to you and booped your nose, “Okay kiddo, do you wanna have a fun training with Papa Wade!! Or do you want to be all bored and tired with meanie Wolverine!” Wade asked you, his voice sounded like he was talking to a little baby.

You looked at both men, unsure of what to say, not wanting to upset the other. Then the idea came to mind, “Can’t we try both methods? Maybe a combination?”

“Fuck no, that idiots ‘method’ is going to get you hurt,” Logan quickly replied, this caused Wade to go over to you and grab your head in his arms.

He began to pet your head and started cooing, “Do I look like I’d ever let anything harm them?”

You stood there as Wade held your head tight, a sigh escaping your lips, “Please Logan, I know its unconventional but I really think it’ll work!” You started to plead with the man.

Wade slowly let go, a hand still on your head, while Logan stood there, unsure if this was the right choice, but he knew how persistent Wade was.

Logan caved, “Fine but if there isn’t any progress, only I’ll train you, got it kid?”

You have him a smile and a thumbs up, Wade just went up to Logan and clung to his arm, “Awe you’re such a softy aren’t you my little firecracker!”

Logan quickly let his claws out and stabbed him in the stomach, already regretting his decision.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you continued your combination training, Logan taught you defensive skills as well as offensive, he also showed you a lot of strategies that would protect you when the time came, while Wade showed you the flair of being a hero, without having to kill as he knew that wasn’t the type of hero you wanted to be, even though every once and a while he’d try to persuade you.

Even though you’d decided to do the combination training, both men still argued all the time.

“Why the hell are you telling them to jump through the sky light when you want to sneak attack a criminal?” Logan’s finger pushed into Wade’s chest, irritated that he’d tell you to do something so dumb and risky.

“Because they need to look awesome while saving the day, oh don’t forget the funny joke once the bad guy sees you, alright my sugar cane,” Wade looked over to you and you gave him a happy smile with a thumbs up, knowing you probably weren’t gonna do that but it was nice to make him feel good before he and Logan fight again over how that isn’t an ethical way of fighting crime.

You decided it was best to leave before they started to get at it again, you knew that tomorrow they’d go back to helping you anyway. So maybe it was better to let them get it out of their systems every one and a while.

[radiosteve]

I Knew You

Summary: You and Steve Harrington have hated each other ever since sixth grade, which made living next door to him all the more miserable. It hadn't always been like that though, shared smiles and loving gestures in secret before popularity went to his head. But now, Steve somehow keeps finding ways to squeeze himself back into your life, making you question if the boy you once knew, the one you might have loved, still lived somewhere within him.

Note: Its been a bit since I last posted, but I had this idea and really wanted to write it. I'm currently drowning with work and school stuff for my masters so my next fic might take a hot minute and will definitely be shorter. This takes place in the fall after season 4 and both Eddie and Max survived with minimal injuries. It’s also partially inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, hence the lyrics as chapter titles. This ended up being way longer than I intended for it to be, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as Baby), smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), enemies to lovers, language, mentions of blood/injuries, some cannon divergence, fluff, angst, slowburn.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

The last salt of the summer air lazed its way through the breeze, picking up the fresh fallen leaves with it. There wasn’t enough foliage on the ground to worry about raking them just yet, but it still brought a chill down your spine at the thought of autumn’s rapid approach. You were sitting on the window bench in your room with a book in your hands and your back against the wall as the breeze floated through the open window, making the curtains dance despite being drawn back. It was a moment of quiet, something you desperately needed.

You were lost in words on the page before you, taking them in sentence after sentence, until the loud slam of a door interrupted your trance. The sound of the door was followed by singing, loud and obnoxious singing. More specifically, Steve Harrington’s loud and obnoxious singing. He had just strolled into his room, playing air guitar along to whatever metal song he was bellowing. A metal song that you presumed Eddie had played so many times on the tape player in his van that it somehow ingrained itself into Steve’s pop-hits brain. 

You sighed, shaking your head to try and brush off the noise as if this was a daily occurrence. Well, it almost was, in some form or another. You lived next door to Steve Harrington for as long as you could remember. Your bedroom windows faced each other too, allowing each of you to gain small, often unwelcome, glimpses into the other’s life. Just about every girl in school had come up to you at least once to tell you how lucky you were to have such an easy way to see Steve Harrington. Then they’d always proceed to ask if they could join you for a sleepover at your house, no doubt just to get a chance to spy on the boy in his natural habitat. 

Your eyes flitted back down to the page, stuck on the same sentence ever since your ears were met with the unwelcome disturbance that was Steve Harrington’s singing. He’d moved on from singing to vocalizing the song’s guitar solo, which was somehow even more annoying. Steve’s arms moved wildly up and down his fake guitar as he banged his head up and down. If you weren’t so annoyed you’d honestly be impressed by the amount of endurance Steve’s performance surely required. But you were annoyed. Annoyed enough to finally speak up. 

“Do you constantly have to make so much noise or do you just like to hear the sound of your own voice?” your remark rang out through the open window, trickling through the air to reach Steve’s room. You didn’t look up from your book, doing your best to look unbothered. Steve stopped singing and thrashing about. His heavy breaths evened out slightly before he responded, slowly approaching the window sill.

“Do you constantly have a stick up your ass or do you just like to pretend that you do?” your eyes widened at that, putting your book to the side as you turned to face the window, to face Steve. He had a smirk on his lips, one that you were more than familiar with by now. It was the smirk he flashed each time he said something that he knew would piss you off. Quite frankly, it was the expression you were most familiar with seeing Steve wear at this point in your life. 

“If there’s a stick up my ass then it's only because you put it there,” it was a lame comeback. You knew it. Steve knew it. But they can’t all be winners. You winced as the words fell from your lips, waiting for Steve’s retaliation, which was sure to be unsavory.

“I don’t recall ever doing that. But Baby, if you bend over I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Steve's smirk grew wider. Whether it was the stupid nickname or the sexual nature of his response that caused the flash of his pearly teeth, you didn’t know. However, you did know that you hated it, all of it. You hated that you constantly walked right into his dumb little comebacks. You hated that he seemingly had an endless supply of them just for you. You hated the day that the stupid nickname was ever aimed in your direction and you hated that Steve Harrington was the one to do it. 

It was late September 1978. Summer was still putting up a fight, albeit a weak one, to keep its warmth in the air. It had rained the night before, washing away the fresh fallen leaves to get stuck in the gutters along the roof or in the storm drains beside the narrow streets. School had only started back up a few weeks ago, and somehow, Steve found himself climbing the popularity ranks. It was a big deal for a sixth grader who’d only just begun his journey at Hawkins Middle to be so admired so fast, but Steve was already starting to see people worship the ground he walked on. He liked the idea of it, that he could waltz through the door of some place and up and run it so soon. His dad always said that the Harringtons were winners, and Steve knew he would be nothing if he disappointed his dad. 

Steve was walking to school that morning, Tommy and Carol to his left as a group full of his classmates followed closely behind. It was as if Steve had his very own entourage. They were a few blocks from the school when he saw it, a bike abandoned on the grass next to the sidewalk. There was a backpack beside it too, laying face down as if it had been thrown off in haste. It didn’t take long for Steve to realize why the bike before him looked so familiar. It was the same one he had seen you on almost every day that summer. The bike you rode to the library, to Lover’s Lake, to the movie theater, to the quarry. As long as it was a place with a good story waiting to be watched or read, or a quiet environment to immerse yourself in a good book, someone was sure to find you there with that bike. 

Steve panicked for a moment, preparing himself to run to the police station and report that you had been kidnapped. But then he looked up. You were hunched over the sidewalk a few yards up, picking at something on the surface of the cement. Steve’s legs moved, the others following, and stopped once again, this time only a few feet from where you sat on the sidewalk. Steve’s brows furrowed as he looked down, finally getting a good look at what you were doing. 

You sat there, slowly and gently peeling the dried worms from the sidewalk. Then you parted the grass next to the sidewalk, putting the worm down to get it as close to the soil as possible. Steve watched you curiously as you moved on to the next worm. It was then that the breeze picked up a bit, shifting away the hair that covered your face. Steve saw it, the tear tracks running down your cheeks as you struggled with the worms that Steve was sure were already dead. A few chuckles sounded from the group behind Steve, and suddenly he remembered that it was not just you and him on that sidewalk.

You too had suddenly become aware of your audience then, head snapping up to see the group in front of you. Your eyes landed on Steve. His expression was etched with empathy, an emotion Steve still held onto no matter how much Tommy tried to strip it from him in his sudden rise to king status. At that moment you didn’t care about the others or the tears that still leaked down your soft cheeks. You cared about the poor worms that stuck to the sidewalk. Your gaze landed on Steve, appealing to the boy who lived beside you for so many years.

“The rain,” you sniffled and Steve’s heart ached at the sound. He’d seen you cry before, as he was sure you had seen him cry too, through the cracks in the curtains obscuring bedroom windows. Each time Steve had to stop himself from marching over to your house and wrapping you in a comforting hug. It was an urge that he still had to repress, even here and now. “The rain cools down the sidewalk and the worms like to come out onto it. But it- it’s not raining anymore. It's too hot for them now. They- they’re burning alive,” fresh tears fell, replacing the old ones. They ran races against each other, fighting to be the first to drip off of your chin and onto the cement below. Steve’s mouth opened, but he was cut off by the boy beside him.

“Whatever, worm girl. Just move out of the way so we can get to school,” Tommy’s words rang through the air, the entourage laughing at you from behind him. Steve could picture it now, you’d spend the rest of middle and high school deemed as the worm girl. You’d hide in all of your classes, eat lunch by yourself in the library, and ignore the taunts that echoed throughout the hallway. Worm girl, worm girl, worm girl. You’d leave Hawkins the day after graduation, a car full of boxes, your life packed up and tucked away in each, and you’d never return. You’d start a new life in a new city that only knows you by your real name, not some playground-esque tease that stupid Tommy Hagan awarded you in 6th grade. You’d be happy there, build a place you could call home, find your one true love, and Steve would never see you again. 

Steve had to stop this now. He had to bury the name worm girl in the ground before it could ever fully emerge. And there was only one way that Steve’s prepubescent brain could think how. Your eyes flickered from Tommy before landing back on Steve, willing him to say something, to defend you. Maybe that was too much to ask.

“Damn, that was lame. Worm girl, really? Are we five?” Steve pulled his gaze from yours. He couldn’t bear to see the look of hope that blossomed in your eyes. Not with what he was about to say next. “I mean, if anything, we should call her Baby since she’s crying like one,” small giggles sounded off behind Steve before being overtaken by full-blown giggles and laughs. And there it was. Steve’s master plan had come to fruition. Replace a bad nickname with a not-as-bad nickname. It wasn’t a great plan, he knew that, especially when he saw the scrunch of your brows and the quiver of your bottom lip, but it was the best that Steve’s 11-year-old thoughts could conjure on such short notice. And Baby really wasn’t that bad. It's a term of endearment for Christ's sake. Or at least that’s what Steve would tell himself.

Tommy laughed from beside Steve, throwing an arm over Carol and guiding her to walk around you. The others followed, hurling a few taunting calls of ‘Baby’ at you as they walked by. You looked back down at the ground, refocusing yourself on the task at hand, ignoring the cracks running along the foundations of your heart. Maybe Steve wasn’t the same boy you had grown up with. Maybe his middle school fame had gone to his head more than you thought it would. More than you hoped it would.

You had just freed another dried worm from its place on the sidewalk when you saw it. A pair of Nikes in front of you. Steve Harrington’s pair of Nikes. He hadn’t gone with the others. It was like he was rooted to the spot. You placed the worm into the depths of the grass, tilting your head to look up at the boy towering over you.

“Screw you, Steve,” you spoke harshly, doing your best to let venom lace your words despite the shake in your voice. Steve didn’t say anything back. He just crouched down in front of you, gently picking up the last worm from the sidewalk. He copied what you had done, parting the grass to place the worm close to the damp earth below. Steve stood up then, walking back to the group that had now passed you, heading towards the school. They hadn’t even noticed he was gone. 

Steve rejoined them, sticking to the back of the group to not draw attention to his momentary absence. He looked back at you then, finding you with your head turned over your shoulder, already gazing at him with confusion plastered across your face. He shot you a soft smile, one that he had typically reserved just for you. It only lasted a moment, but for that moment you were more perplexed than before.

In that smile was Steve. The Steve. The one that had plaid wallpaper in his room and hand-drawn pictures of cars taped to the walls (some that you had drawn for him). He was the boy who had a slew of green army men sitting on his window sill, the same ones that he had given you. They sat pointing towards the street out front, and never ever at you. They protected both of your rooms. The soldiers protected them from monsters, wizards, ghosts, and disappointed parents. At that moment, Steve was the boy next door who left messages taped to his window for you to see. The boy who stayed a few paces behind your bike after school to make sure you got home safely. He was the boy who promised to love you always before placing a peck on your lips when you were both five. He was the boy you knew, not the one who humiliated you in front of his friends. 

But the moment ended. The smile dropped from Steve’s face as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his head back around, putting more and more distance between the two of you. You watched him for a moment longer until you finally managed to tear your gaze from his retreating figure. You moved then, leaning over the grass to see the worm that Steve had placed there, worried that he left it too high up. Most of the worms were dead long before you got there, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from trying to help them. All the worms in the grass were lifeless and unmoving despite your efforts. All except one. It was the worm Steve had placed there.

You jumped into action then, using your fingers to dig a hole in the dirt. As quickly as you could, you placed the worm into the hole, covering it with the fresh soil. Its tail poked out just a bit and you watched with bated breath as it slowly retracted, moving deeper into the ground below. You glanced up at the sidewalk again, expecting to still see Steve in the distance, but he was gone. Over the hill and out of your eye line, just like the worm. 

“Don’t call me that,” you bit through gritted teeth and Steve just laughed. His stupid, obnoxious, loud laugh. The one that warned you that danger was near anytime you heard it in the hallway in high school. 

“Would you prefer I call you something else?” Steve pondered dramatically, bringing a finger to his lip and glancing up as if he were trying to remember something. “Maybe worm-” Steve began, a look of anger more prominent on your face now.

“Fuck you, Steve,” you cut him off before he could finish his taunt. He was about to say something else, no doubt another snarky comment that you could definitely afford to miss. It was about to spring from his lips when Steve was met with the sound of your window slamming shut. You locked it too, pulling the curtains closed and retreating to your bed, no longer in the mood to read. Steve stared at the purple curtains now blocking his view of you. Oh, how he hated that specific shade, knowing that they were the only thing keeping him from gazing at you. 

Steve closed his window too, locking it the same as you had. But he kept his curtains open, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of you later. The hand-drawn cars that once lined his walls were replaced by movie posters, ones he had gotten for free from work. He still had the army men littered along the window sill though. Most of them had been knocked over on their sides and Steve never bothered to pick them back up. They pointed at your room now, though Steve never intended for them to do so, unlike you who had purposefully aimed your soldiers at Steve’s window no more than a few days after Wormageddon.

Steve sat back on his bed, laying down and placing his arms under his head. He’d made you mad. Gotten you all riled up, just as he had planned from the second you opened your mouth. So why did he not feel better right now? Why did his stomach hurt and his heart refused to rest? This battle was over. The war waged on but this was still a victory worth noting in the imaginary books. He hadn’t gotten the final word but he still won nonetheless. Isn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was a Harrington after all, and Harringtons were winners. Right? 

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

The sun crept along the horizon, unwilling to give in to the moon just yet. Orange and pink illuminated your room through the open curtains. You sat at your vanity, applying a final layer of gloss to your lips before smacking them together. Unbeknownst to you, Steve had been watching you through the window. He admired the effort you took while getting ready, although he knew you didn’t need it. Steve would never admit it, he’d repressed it for far too long, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. 

You turned towards your closet, digging through it to find a pair of shoes that matched your outfit. Steve couldn’t help the clawing desire to know what you were getting ready for. There weren’t any parties that he knew of that night. Maybe you were hanging out with Nancy and Robin. He couldn’t imagine why you’d need to get dressed up for that though. Steve wished your window was open. He would lean on his window sill, asking about your plans for the evening. He’d say it in that snarky Steve Harrington way. The way he knew would elicit an eye roll in response. But maybe you’d give in and tell him. Maybe you’d invite him to go with you. Or maybe Steve was letting fantasy mix with reality.

A car horn sounded from outside, pulling Steve from his thoughts with a jump. He didn’t realize he was still standing at his window staring at you. At least he hadn’t until you rushed to your window, trying to get a glimpse of the vehicle out front. Your eyes locked with Steve’s then and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. You brushed it off, refocusing on why you had come to the window in the first place. Parked on the street in front of your house sat a van. A beat-up, rusty, falling apart at the seams, van. Steve’s gaze followed yours, also noticing the van below. A van he was more than familiar with at this point. 

You bent over, pulling on your shoes as quickly as you could before rushing out of your room and down the stairs. Steve jumped into action then, doing the same from within his own house. He burst out the front door just in time to see you grabbing for the handle of the van’s passenger side door. Steve peered through the windshield getting a glance of the unruly curls that rested on Eddie Munson’s head. You hopped into the van and Eddie looked up, seeing Steve cut through his yard and head towards the van. You fastened your seatbelt and looked up, also catching sight of the boy rapidly approaching you.

“Eddie, please drive. Like right now,” you turned to the boy next to you. Your voice came out shaky and desperate. Definitely not the commanding tone you’d hoped for.

“Sorry, princess. Gotta see what the hair is so adamantly chasing us for,” Eddie shrugged and you groaned, throwing your head back. Unfortunately that only made Eddie laugh at you.

“If you leave right now, I’ll do anything you ask for the rest of the night,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together to beg.

“As tempting as that sounds, it’s a bit too late,” Eddie points to the window behind you. You turn, seeing Steve standing next to your window, hand raised in a wave. Eddie leaned over, arm reaching across your lap to crank the window down, because he knew damn well that you wouldn’t do it. Not when Steve was standing on the other side at least.

“You’re like a goddamn jumpscare. I hope you know that Harrington,” you spoke, folding your arms over your chest as Eddie retreated back to his side of the van. He could identify the hint of jealousy on Steve’s face all too well. It was the same look Steve wore anytime a guy got too close to you or made you smile a bit wider than normal. Eddie was well aware of Steve’s complicated feelings for you, even though Steve sure as hell wasn’t.

“Whatcha up to? I thought you were staying home tonight?” Steve asked Eddie, resting his hands against the van’s door. He was close to you, too close. You leaned back in your seat, putting more space between the two of you.

“Well, now I’m not,” Eddie shot Steve a cheeky smile and Steve just blinked in response. “Ok fine,” Eddie gave in, unraveling under Steve’s stare. He hated lying to Steve, especially now that they’d gotten closer. “We’re going to see some band play at The Hideout. We’ve had these plans for weeks. I lied about staying home,” Eddie rushed out and your mouth dropped in shock.

“One look into Harrington’s sparkly eyes and you're spilling your guts? Pathetic,” you groaned from your seat. Eddie rolled his eyes, focusing them back onto Steve.

“You think my eyes are sparkly?” Steve quipped, a smirk growing on his lips. You heard Eddie laugh beside you and you couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face.

“Get over yourself, Steve,” you moved your hand over the window crank, threatening to roll up the window, but Steve stopped you.

“Wait! I wanna come with,” he spoke quickly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Eddie. You couldn’t help the laugh that formed in your throat. “What’s so funny?” Steve glared at you then.

“Well, for one, you hate metal music,” you began and Steve scoffed.

“So do you,” Steve tried to retaliate, but the smirk on your lips told him he was fighting a losing battle.

“Sure, I’m not the biggest metal fan, but I like it enough and I love the energy of the crowd. Plus Eddie and I have been doing this for years. It doesn’t even matter, you’re not coming with us so you might as well give up now,” you spoke, lifting your hand in a sarcastic wave goodbye.

“Good thing it’s not up to you then. It’s Eddie’s van. He gets to decide,” your head snapped in Eddie’s direction then. You glared at him and focused as hard as you could. When you were younger, you and Eddie were convinced that you’d be able to communicate with each other telepathically if you tried hard enough. It never worked of course, but it never hurt to try. Eddie understood you better than anyone. He became your number-one confidant since the day you met. Surely he could pick up on your brain waves begging him to bar Steve from your plans.

Eddie headed towards the band room at Hawkins Middle with his guitar case swinging in his hand. He was early, intending to warm up on his own before the rest of Corroded Coffin got there for band practice. Eddie flicked on the lights, expecting the room to be empty. But it wasn’t. You were there, in the corner of the room, tucked between some music stands. You’d been curled into a ball and looked up when the fluorescent lights came on, illuminating your hidden figure. There were tears streaked across your face after a particularly brutal day of taunts from Tommy and Steve. Eddie set his guitar down and moved towards you slowly.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a quiet voice, hesitantly approaching. You remained silent, rising from your spot on the ground and wiping away your tears with your sweater sleeve. “I’m Eddie,” he spoke again, extending his hand for you to shake when he got close enough. You told him your name but didn’t meet his hand with yours, not yet.

“But everyone calls me Baby,” your voice was hoarse from crying but Eddie heard you loud and clear. He was an eighth grader but even he’d heard about the poor sixth grader that the popular kids had been calling Baby. It had moved beyond just them though. All of your classmates, teachers, and neighbors had adopted the name for you. 

“Well, I won’t call you that, not if you’re not comfortable with it,” Eddie reassured you. He had been victimized plenty by the popular kids. He understood what it felt like, which is why he was shocked when you shook your head. His hand fell back to his side.

“No, it’s ok. I’ve been telling people to call me Baby to help reclaim it, I guess. It took Marissa the librarian forever but she’s finally gotten used to it. My parents still slip up, but that’s to be expected,” you shrugged. What you didn’t tell Eddie was that it still hurt when the name spilled from Steve’s lips. You weren’t sure why it did. But the more you were called Baby by everyone else, the more desensitized you hoped to become to it.

“Reclaim the name?” Eddie asked, eyebrows furrowed. You nodded, suddenly unsure what the boy in front of you thought. “That’s pretty metal,” a smile stretched his lips and his hand shot back up between you, beckoning for yours to join it. “It’s nice to meet you, Baby.”

“You too, Eddie,” you mirrored his smile, finally placing your small hand in his. Eddie’s calloused fingers enclosed around the back of your palm and two became one. You were inseparable. Inseparable in everything except for the reoccurring nightmare scenario that kept popping up in your life. You’d been dragged in early on, being one of the last people to see Barb before she went missing. You’d caught a glimpse of her through your window, sitting on the diving board above Steve’s pool, when suddenly she was gone. You joined Jonathan and Nancy in their quest to find her and kill the thing that took her. It sucked to keep Eddie out of that part of your life, but it was for his own good. Or at least it was until this past spring when Chrissy Cunningham became Vecna’s first victim right before the poor boy’s eyes. Then you told him everything. Your two worlds fully merged, and you and Eddie became totally and fully inseparable.

Your glare bore into Eddie’s and you thought you had gotten through to him. You were wrong.

“Alright Harrington, hop in. Quickly though, I don’t want to miss the opening act,” Eddie conceded, turning to face his gaze towards the road ahead. He could feel you burning holes into him with your eyes. You rolled the window up as Steve opened the van's back door. 

“We’re so working on the telepathy thing again. Evidently, you’re in desperate need of a refresher,” you grumbled and Eddie chuckled at how mad you were at the addition of Steve to your plans. Steve closed the van door, lounging in one of the bean bags Eddie kept in the back. After what felt like the longest ride of being tossed around the back of Eddie’s van, Steve was never more thankful to see The Hideout come into view. The three of you filed out of the van as the sound of metal music filtered through the bar’s closed doors. Much to Eddie’s dismay the opener had already started their set. It smelled like cheap beer and cigarette smoke, causing Steve to wrinkle his nose.

“Go get us some drinks from the bar. Baby and I will get us a spot up near the front,” Eddie handed Steve a few dollar bills, enough to cover both your drink and his own. You and Steve might hate each other, but you’d been around each other in enough alcohol-fueled group settings to know each other’s drink orders. Steve beelined towards the bar, yelling over the music to order your Dirty Shirley with extra cherries, Eddie’s Rum and Coke, and his own Long Island iced tea.

He spotted you and Eddie pushing through the crowd. You were in front of Eddie, his forearm thrown across the front of your shoulders to keep you close. The two of you stopped not far from the stage. You leaned up to say something in Eddie’s ear, your back flush with his chest, and Steve felt a rush of jealousy run through him. Eddie had told him countless times that the two of you were just friends. That the kisses he’d once shared with you while high were just meaningless, drug-fueled, pecks on the lips. That was a lie of course, but Eddie definitely wasn’t going to tell Steve about the way you moaned against his lips until the two of you sobered up enough to feel embarrassed and swore to never speak of it again. Sometimes Steve needed to be lied to about certain things, mainly so Eddie wasn’t on the receiving end of Steve’s right hook.

The bartender placed the drinks in front of Steve in exchange for the wad of cash slapped on the counter. Steve grabbed all three glasses and began his trek through the tightly packed crowd. He’d gotten really good at holding a bunch of stuff in his hands at once during his brief stint at Scoops. Steve made it up to you and Eddie, passing the drinks to each of you. The three of you watched the opening band’s set, dancing as much as you could with drinks in your hands and a packed crowd.

By the time the opener’s set was over you had sipped enough of your drink to expose one of the cherries in your glass. Steve couldn’t help the way his mouth gaped as he watched you fish the cherry out with your finger, popping the morsel in your mouth and pulling it from the stem with your teeth. Eddie eyed the boy next to him, amused not only by Steve’s aroused reaction to such a simple thing but also by your complete obliviousness to said reaction. Despite the lack of music coming from the stage as you waited for the headlining band to come on, Eddie still had to shout over the buzz of the crowd.

“Show Stevie the thing,” Eddie gestured towards the cherry stem between your fingers. You shook your head in protest, but Eddie gave you his best puppy dog eyes and you were instantly beat. You rolled your eyes, placed the cherry stem on your tongue, and closed your lips. Eddie brought his arm up, glancing back and forth between you and his watch. Steve was baffled by the coordinated performance that the two of you were putting on in front of him. After a few seconds, your mouth popped back open. You plucked the cherry stem from between your teeth and held it up for Steve to see.

“Seven seconds! That might be your personal best,” Eddie exclaimed while Steve looked closely at the stem. It was tied in a knot. He took it from between your fingers and was about to ask how you did it when the band came on stage. Steve’s hand trailed down to his side, tucking the tied cherry stem into his pocket. He wasn’t sure why, but throwing it away felt wrong for some reason.

The band was really good, especially the lead singer. He was only a few years older than you and he had gorgeous, blonde hair that flowed down to his shoulders. Steve had scoffed when the singer winked at you during their set, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the music. The three of you had a surprisingly good time together, although it's pretty hard to fight with such loud music blaring throughout the room. Eddie and Steve were tasked with finding a table after the band left the stage and you got stuck with grabbing everyone new drinks. 

“That was actually really fun. How often do you guys do this?” Steve asked, his pants getting stuck to cheap faux leather as he slid into a booth opposite Eddie. 

“Once every month or so. It depends on which bands are playing,” Steve was listening to Eddie or at least he was at first. His eyes had been scanning the bar, trying to find you. When he finally did, his expression hardened. You leaned with your elbow against the bar, waiting for the bartender to come back with the drinks, but you weren’t alone. The lead singer of the headlining band was beside you. He was smiling at you, and even worse for Steve, you were smiling back. Eddie noticed the change in Steve’s demeanor, the jealousy that now filled the hazel of his eyes. He tracked Steve’s gaze across the crowded bar, landing on you. 

Eddie was impressed. He’d seen you bag your fair share of hot guys after a show at The Hideout, but never had you managed to get with the lead singer of the headlining band. Steve, on the other hand, was not impressed. He was livid. It didn’t help that the lead singer had just placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he leaned in close to whisper something in your ear. Steve quickly slid out of the booth, stomping his way through the crowd of people, heading towards you. Eddie winced, knowing he should chase after the boy, but slightly curious to see what would happen if he didn’t. Steve pushed through the bodies surrounding him, stopping just in front of where you stood against the bar.

“What's taking you so long with the drinks?” He called out and your head shot up at the sound of his voice. The smile that had grown on your lips quickly faded at the sight of Steve. The singer, Corey, looked up from where he had just started to kiss your neck. He didn’t move his hands from your hips despite Steve’s pointed glances. 

“Hey man, you’re kind of interrupting something right now. If you want a drink then ask the bartender or whatever,” Corey moved to face you again, but Steve wasn’t done.

“Hey man,” Steve mocked Corey’s words. “You need to take your hands off of her right now,” your brow furrowed in anger while Corey filled with confusion.

“Sorry dude, didn’t realize she was your girl,” Corey assumed based on Steve’s comment and began to move his hands, but you stopped him.

“I’m not, I swear. I barely even know that guy,” Steve scoffed at that and you shot him a glare. Corey’s eyes flitted back and forth between you and Steve. He looked more confused than ever, almost painfully so. 

“I’m way too high for this. You have her, man. It's not worth the fight,” Corey held up his hands in defense. Eddie had just worked his way through the sea of people in time to see Corey back away from you, scan the crowd, and head towards some pretty redhead across the room. Steve looked triumphant as he turned his gaze back to you. Eddie thought you looked like you were about to go ballistic. He’d never seen you that mad before in his entire life. You looked even angrier now than you had when Eddie purposefully put gum in your hair and it got stuck so badly that you had to give yourself bangs to get rid of it. Eddie was about two seconds from sprinting out of the building to save himself from being a witness to what was sure to be Steve’s murder when the bartender, Dave, called out from behind you.

“Here’s that Long Island for you, Baby,” you spun around, revealing the Rum and Coke and Dirty Shirley that sat on the counter behind you. You thanked Dave, giving him a good tip, before turning back to Steve. Because even in your fury, you could still be nice to the waitstaff. You picked up the Long Island, marched towards Steve, and slammed the drink directly into his chest. 

“Since you wanted it so fucking bad,” you pushed past him, not caring about the way the liquid sloshed over the lip of the glass, coating your hand and Steve’s shirt. You moved towards the exit, slamming the door open into the moonlit darkness outside. Steve took a second to process what just happened. He placed the remainder of his drink back on the counter before following in your path. Eddie groaned, grabbing his now abandoned drink from the bar and downing it. He grabbed your drink from beside his, knowing you’d need it when this was over, and followed Steve. You had made it to Eddie’s van and tugged on the door handle, cursing the long-haired boy for actually locking it for once.

“What the hell was that?” Steve called out from across the parking lot with his arms held wide. He was stalking towards you at a furious pace. You were so pissed that you didn’t even notice your feet dragging you forward to meet him in the middle.

“Where the fuck do you get off?” you asked in response instead of answering his question. Steve stopped when the tips of his shoes touched yours, scrunched faces mere inches from each other. “First you invite yourself along to Eddie and I’s thing and then you ruin my chances with the very hot lead singer of the band. You did that for what, huh? Shits and giggles? I don’t give a shit who you are Harrington, that’s too fucking far,” you yelled, rage boiling beneath your hot skin. 

“He wasn’t that hot,” Steve scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes widened. Eddie, who had just made it out to the parking lot, was surprised there wasn’t steam shooting out of your ears at this point.

“Is that the only thing you fucking heard from what I just said?” you brought your hands to your forehead in exasperation. “You’re such an asshole! I thought it would end when we graduated. Like you’d grow up a bit after graduation day. Hell, Robin said you’d matured, changed, and left the King Steve shtick behind. Eddie is one of your best friends now, the boy you taunted for years. So what is it about me, huh? Why are you suddenly too golden-hearted to bully everyone else but you never stopped fucking with me?” you had gotten close to Steve, not that you noticed through your tunneled vision of anger. Your heavy breaths fanned across Steve’s lips as you awaited his response.

“I-” Steve opened his mouth to respond and then quickly shut it. He didn’t know. Well maybe he did know, somewhere deep down, but it wasn’t something he could say to you now. Not in The Hideout’s parking lot where a crowd had started growing around you. Steve stepped back, creating the space between you that you desperately lacked at the moment.

“That’s what I thought,” you stepped back too, turning to walk towards Eddie. You quickly stopped, facing Steve once more. “Do me a favor, find some other girl to lurk around for a while. It's bad enough that you live next door. I really don’t need you following me wherever I go like some fucking creep,” you spun on your heels again, grabbing the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand and throwing it back like it was fruit juice. 

Eddie unlocked the van and you slid inside, slamming the door behind you. Eddie’s eyes met Steve’s with a grimace. Eddie looked at you in the van and then back to Steve. Steve got the message; Eddie couldn’t take you both home together. Maybe Steve was the one with telepathy instead. Eddie’s remorseful eyes searched Steve from across the lot. Steve conceded, gesturing for Eddie to take you. He was the one that fucked up anyway. If anything he deserved to be the one that had to call a cab. Eddie shot Steve a tight-lipped smile before hopping into his van and driving off. Steve watched the van’s taillights as Eddie rolled through a stop sign, speeding off into the night.

The light in your room was off when the cab finally dropped Steve off at home. He wasn’t surprised, expecting that you’d be at Eddie's trailer, erasing the night from your thoughts with a shared joint. Steve trudged up the stairs, opening and closing his door softly behind him so he didn’t wake his parents. They’d be gone for another business trip in the morning, leaving one less thing for him to worry about tomorrow. Steve’s window was still open from earlier, allowing the cool night air to seep in. He laid back on his bed, thoughts racing in the silence. And that’s when he heard it. A soft sob, then a sniffle. A deep breath, then another sob.

Steve sat up, his gaze aimed in the direction of the sound. His eyes landed on you, sitting on the floor of your darkened room with your back against your bed. Your window was cracked open, the way you normally kept it at night, allowing the birds to wake you with their songs in the morning. Steve stood, moving towards the window. You couldn’t see him from this angle, not that you would have been able to regardless with the tears clouding your vision. Steve frowned. An ache in his chest, the same one he’d felt whenever he heard you cry, flourished within him. He wanted to comfort you. To wrap an arm around you and let cry into his chest. To tell you it would be okay and ask who’s ass he needed to kick. But he couldn’t. You weren’t friends. You hated him. And it’s not like he could kick his own ass. 

He didn’t realize, didn’t even feel it, but a tear slipped down his cheek, matching the flood that crowded yours. Steve lifted his hands to rest on the window, leaning against it as his brows furrowed over the broken look on your face. He pushed down, shutting the window softly, locking it, and closing the curtains. He couldn’t listen to you cry anymore. He remembered what you said, and he didn’t want to linger. The tear rolled off Steve’s chin, drowning a little unsuspecting green soldier on the window sill below. Steve moved away from the window and laid back on his bed. He felt around his pants pocket and fished out the knotted cherry stem. Steve’s eyes roamed over it for too long before he set it aside on his nightstand and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep that night, no matter how hard tried. In the quiet dark of his room, Steve swore he could still hear your muffled cries.    

Drunk under a street light

Black and white flickered from the TV screen, illuminating the dark room that you lounged in. You were lazing on the couch, mindlessly picking at the bowl of popcorn in your lap. The movie playing across the room did nothing to pull your unfocused stare from the coffee table in front of you. It wasn’t until you received a light kick to the thigh that you could finally shifted your eyes away.

“Okay, ouch,” you glared at Robin who was lying across the couch beside you, feet practically draped across your lap. She sat up, digging her hand into the bowl of popcorn. Her perfume scent lingered in the air around you even after she pulled back. It was sweet and light like she had just finished baking a batch of sugar cookies.

“You’ve been begging me to watch Casablanca with you for months and you’re not even paying attention to it now that I actually am,” she lifted her hand towards the screen before bringing her handful of popcorn to her lips. It's true. You had been dying to get someone to watch Casablanca with you for ages. Eddie watched it once and then refused to do it again after he ended up crying at the ending. Rick Blaine’s selfless act of giving up his one true love to give her a better life brought tears to the cold-hearted boy’s eyes. He made you promise not to tell anyone, especially Dustin. 

“Sorry Rob, I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” you apologized, trying your best to pay attention to the movie again. You’d been zoned out for the entire first half of the movie, not that it mattered. You knew exactly what was happening on screen, given that you’d seen the movie a million times. It got to a point where Steve started keeping a copy under the counter at Family Video so there was always one available when you came in.

“Are you thinking about Steve?” Robin asked, her voice overpowering Ingrid Bergman’s as Ilsa confessed why she left Rick alone in Paris. Your head snapped towards the girl beside you and you could see the faint smirk growing on her lips.

“Why would I be thinking about Steve?” you answered her question with your own. The smirk fell from her lips then and she rolled her eyes. Robin sat up, pressing pause on the remote.

“Because he was totally jealous and caused some huge blowout fight between the two of you. And when I say huge I mean huge. It’s been over a week and you still won’t even acknowledge that he exists,” Robin explained, turning to face you better. You sighed and faced her too. You tried to avoid talking about Steve with Robin. Ever since they became friends it seemed too weird to talk shit about him in front of her.

“First of all, Steve definitely wasn’t jealous. He’s just a menace that loves to torment me,” Robin snorted a laugh but didn’t interrupt, allowing you to continue. “Second, Steve and I aren’t friends so me not talking to him for a week really isn’t that big of a deal,” Robin shrugged at that, seeing your point. “And third, how the hell do you know about all of this?” a guilty look spread across Robin’s face and you quickly realized the answer to your question. “Eddie’s got a big mouth,” Robin nodded in agreement at your words. 

“I would’ve figured it out regardless. Steve’s been moping around for days. He’s really beating himself up over the whole thing,” you chuckled and Robin shot you a confused glare.

“What? I find it hard to believe that Steve Harrington even remotely cares about anything that has to do with me. Well unless it has to do with making my life a living hell,” you leaned back again, digging your hand into the popcorn bowl once more. Robin just stared at you, obviously baffled by something. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe somewhere in Steve’s caveman brain all this ‘torment’ is actually his way of expressing that he likes you?” Robin asked and repositioned the blanket that covered her lap. You stopped mid-chew, considering Robin’s words. You swallowed hard, sitting up and placing the popcorn bowl down on the couch between you.

“So what, Steve pulls my pigtails on the playground and it’s all okay just because he likes me? That’s such a toxic ideology, Rob. Not only that, but the suggestion that Steve actually likes me is insane. I mean have you heard the worm story?” you felt defensive, as if you were being attacked even though you weren't. You couldn’t understand why your heart wouldn’t stop racing at the thought of Steve liking you.

“Of course, I’ve heard the goddamn worm story,” Robin threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over the popcorn in the process. “And I didn’t say that it was a healthy way of expressing his feelings. It just might be the only way he knows how. It’s not like his parents are great role models in teaching him about love and stuff,” a quiet fell over the room while your head raced at Robin’s words. You’d been so wrapped up in your feud with Steve that you hadn’t taken the time to consider his life outside of you. 

You knew Steve’s parents were pretty absent based on the lack of cars in the driveway. And it was well known across town that Mr. Harrington was an asshole, no need to grow up next door to figure that out. Steve adored his dad when he was younger, and talked about how he wanted to be just like him. But you had heard the fights that seeped through the open windows in the years that followed. The disappointment that filled Mr. Harrington’s face when he entered Steve’s bedroom and saw the movie posters lining the walls. You wondered then what Steve’s parents thought of his decision to forgo college. Whether they argued with his choice, fought with him to take a chance to change his future, or if they just accepted it, not expecting much else from their disappointing son.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Robin studied your face as you spoke. You looked lost, like you were questioning your past with Steve. After a moment the hint of a smile graced your lips and Robin furrowed her brow. “Still doesn’t mean he likes me,” you quirked as Robin sat up, grabbing another handful of popcorn. 

“Oh whatever,” she launched her fistful of popcorn at you, hitting your face with the popped kernels before they fell to your lap. You retaliated, throwing popcorn back at her. The popcorn fight quickly ended when Robin picked up the bowl, dumping the rest of its contents over your head. The two of you fell into a fit of laughter while you tried, and failed, to pick the popcorn kernels from your hair. Eventually, you gave up, resting your head on Robin’s shoulder, the crunch of the popcorn sounding off as you did. Her shoulder was bony, uncomfortably stabbing your cheek with each delicate press against it, but you didn’t mind. Neither of you was very touchy-feely with each other, though you were never sure why, so it was nice to have a rare moment of intimacy. It granted you a deeper understanding of one another and a peak into the mysterious ways that each of your brains worked.

“Go to a party with me tonight?” Robin asked softly, not quite ready to leave the comfortable quiet just yet. You kept your head still on her shoulder and closed your eyes, inhaling sharply.

“Since when do you actively attend parties?” you questioned and Robin’s shoulder shook beneath you as she let out a gentle laugh. It was a comforting sound, like waves at the beach or rain on the pavement. That’s what Robin was to you. A comfort. Sure, Eddie was your best friend and you’d known him longer, but Robin understood you in a way that he didn’t. She controlled your chaos and balanced it with ease and truth. Robin matched your energy, knew what was best for you, and made you feel heard.

“Since Vickie asked me to go,” Robin winced out the words, anticipating your shift away from her side. Just as Robin thought, you lifted your head, turning to face her.

“So you’re not inviting me to go to a party, you’re inviting me to Third Wheel all night?” you raised your brow, eyes pouring into the girl beside you. Robin winced, shrinking into her spot on the couch. “Alright, I’ll go. Got nothing better to do anyway,” Robin cheered triumphantly at your concession, standing to go to your room and start getting ready together. You stopped her, gesturing to the popcorn that littered the couch and floor. She groaned, reluctantly helping you clean up the mess she made.

You’d walked to the party, arriving after everything was already in full swing. The sticky air reeked of weed and cheap booze as you pushed your way through the front door. It was sweltering inside the house. Sweaty bodies pressed themselves closely together on the dance floor, sipping on whatever deadly concoction resided in the punch bowl. Robin made a beeline for Vickie as soon as she walked through the door. There were familiar faces, people you knew from high school and whatnot, but no one you particularly fancied talking to. That is until you saw a mop of brown curls approaching with a black lunch box in his hands.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” you called out over the boombox that was blaring music throughout the room. Eddie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to walk along with him. He guided you to the kitchen, stopping in front of a countertop littered with booze. You weighed your drink options, eventually pouring some vodka and Sprite into a solo cup, disappointed at the lack of cherry grenadine. You held up a bottle of rum pointed in Eddie’s direction, but he shook his head.

“Strictly business tonight sweetheart,” Eddie patted the lunchbox in his hands. You nodded in understanding, bringing your cup to your lips. “Where’s Buckley?” he asked, suddenly noticing the missing girl that he was sure dragged you here. You didn’t even have to speak, just pointing your finger to where Robin danced with Vickie across the room. Her hair was already a mess and her cheeks were flushed bright pink. You were about to say something else, keep your conversation with Eddie going, when he received a tap on his shoulder. It was some jock looking to make a deal. Eddie gave your hand a quick squeeze in place of goodbye and led the guy to the back of the house.

So there you were, standing alone in a crowded kitchen, regretting your decision to come in the first place. If only Nancy or Jonathan were there to keep you company, too bad they were both off at their respective colleges. Hell, you might even take Steve’s companionship at this point, because the longer you leaned against this countertop, the more boxed in you felt. What you didn’t know was that Steve was there. He thought it would be a good way to get his mind off your fight, but as he stood in the corner of this too-hot house, sipping a lukewarm beer, and listening to his old basketball teammate drone on and on about how they should’ve won the championship game their senior year, Steve realized he was wrong.

It especially didn’t help when his eyes scanned the room and somehow landed on you. You were alone, searching the room, presumably for a familiar face, when he spotted you. Luckily for Steve, you remained oblivious to his watchful gaze, giving him some time to study you since he felt like he hadn’t been able to in ages. He considered going over to you, to keep you company, but before he could even take a step, someone else approached you first. Your face dropped to a scowl at the sight of the freckled boy who now stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong Baby? Not happy to see me?” Tommy asked, a devilish grin hiding his lips. Steve was rooted to the spot, unable to move. He wanted to march over to you, drag you away from the douchebag before you, but he couldn’t will his legs to trudge across the congested room. He was never good at standing up for you, especially not to Tommy. 

“Is anyone ever happy to see you?” you asked, crossing your arms and keeping a close grip on your cup. Tommy looked you up and down, hungry eyes boring into your skin. Suddenly you wished you brought a sweater to cover your bare shoulders. Steve still watched you from afar, his stomach turning at the desire that lingered in Tommy’s expression.

“There are plenty of girls around here that love when I show up,” Tommy grinned, leaning in closer. He reminded you of a shark with his teeth bared, waiting for a lowly seal to stumble into his pathway. “I could show you why if you come upstairs with me,” his lips came dangerously close to your ear, muffling the music that rattled the room. 

“I’ll pass,” you grimaced at his offer. Tommy’s grin faltered and you brought your cup to your lips with a shrug, trying not to look too smug at your denial of his advances. That must have been what set Tommy over the edge. He reached up, slapping the cup from your hand, ignoring the liquid that splashed over you both. His face leaned in close as his arms caged you against the counter. 

“Fuck you,” he spat, his face close to yours. “You’re just some weirdo bitch anyway,” you were scared at that point, terrified even, but you remained calm. Showing your fear would be the worst thing to do. Steve’s heart raced in his chest as he watched Tommy corner you. He took a step forward, moving in your direction.

“A weirdo bitch that won’t fuck you,” you fired back at Tommy and his face turned red with fury. Maybe poking the bear wasn’t a good idea. Suddenly someone knocked Tommy to the side, freeing you from him. You looked up, seeing a flash of red hair and someone in a striped shirt. Vickie and Robin. 

“Woah man, we were spinning around and kinda lost control. Didn’t even see you there,” Robin leaned down to where Tommy now sat on the floor. She shot you a wink when he wasn’t looking. Vickie offered him a hand, but he brushed her off, standing on his own. He looked around, catching the glances of some of the partygoers, and stomped off, too embarrassed to continue trying to pursue you. Steve had made it about halfway through the crowded living room when Robin and Vickie took down Tommy in some sort of weird spin attack. He stood there now, watching as they checked over you. “You alright?” Robin asked you while Vickie inspected you for any bruises or blemishes from Tommy.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Think I’m just gonna go actually,” you looked down at your shirt, taking inventory of how damp it was from your spilled drink. 

“We’ll go with you,” Vickie spoke up, taking hold of your arm as if she would guide you out. You shook your head, sliding her hand down to yours and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. 

“No, you guys stay and have fun. I’m gonna try and hitch a ride. I’ve gotta know someone around here that’s planning on leaving soon,” you had no intentions of actually getting a ride from someone. But you knew Robin would never let you go if she knew you were going to walk home alone and you just needed to get out of there. You would ask Eddie, but you knew he needed the money he’d make from selling tonight so you didn’t want to bother him. 

“Okay,” Robin nodded, granting you permission to leave. You gave her and Vickie a two-finger salute and made your way to the door. “No rides home from anyone on the basketball team. Past, present, or future. I swear all of those guys are creeps,” Robin called after you, turning a few heads as she did. You chuckled, continuing on to the door.

Steve still stood in the living room, watching the three of you closely. His eyes followed you as you trekked through the crowd to the door. Once you finally made it outside, his gaze shifted back to Robin only to find that she was already looking at him. She motioned with her head to the door, encouraging him to follow after you. So he did. Steve threw away his half-drunk beer and burst through the door. You were already halfway down the block when he got in his car and pulled up next to you. 

It was cold outside, especially for early September, a chill lacing the breeze with each gust. It definitely didn’t help that your shirt was still soaked through. You saw the headlights of a car approaching behind you, brushing it off as you shivered and pulled your arms close. It took you a moment to realize that the car hadn’t passed you yet. You turned your head, suddenly facing a maroon BMW with its windows rolled down. A groan escaped your lips, but you still bent down to peer through the window. Steve’s car came to a stop, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of your exasperated face.

“You stalking me now, Harrington?” Steve let out a chuckle and a gust of wind picked up, making you shiver again. 

“You wish. Come on, get in and I’ll drive us home,” he studied your face, searching for a sign that you’d agree. He couldn’t find one, your body unmoving from your spot on the sidewalk. 

“I’m perfectly capable of walking. Plus Robin said no rides from anyone on the basketball team,” you shot him a sly smirk and stood up straight, continuing your walk through the neighborhood. You’d expected Steve to drive off then, leaving you to walk in peace. But he didn’t, his car followed alongside you. “What are you doing?” you asked, stopping again to see Steve through the passenger window.

“If you won’t let me drive you home, then I’ll just drive next to you,” Steve shrugged, looking up at you.

“What if I cut through someone’s backyard?” you asked and Steve shrugged again, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Then some people are gonna be really pissed to see tire tracks on their lawn,” he replied and you almost wanted to laugh at his persistence, entertained by Steve’s unwillingness to let you be alone. His smile faltered then. “You and I both know the kind of shit that lurks around Hawkins at night,” any amusement from before had slipped away. None of you mentioned the Upside Down much now, not after finally defeating Vecna. It was final, the battle that ended the war, destroying the Upside Down for good. You couldn’t help the lingering fear that you’d missed something, that one day it would all return. And here, on the sidewalk after some lame party, you realized that Steve shared that fear too. 

“Ok,” you said simply, shocking Steve as you pulled on the passenger door handle and slid into the seat next to him. He waited until you buckled up before rolling up the windows and driving off. It was quiet in the car, the lingering tension of all the unspoken words swirling in the air. Steve heard the sound of your teeth chattering and your hands brushing the goosebumps on your arms. He quickly reached into the back, grabbed an old sweatshirt that sat there, and handed it to you. Normally you would’ve rejected it, your pride too inflated to accept help from Steve in any form. But it was cold, your shirt was wet, and your conversation from earlier with Robin still lingered in the forefront of your mind. 

Steve didn’t expect you to take his sweatshirt so easily, replacing his hand on the wheel when he felt the weight of it lift from his palm. You pulled his sweatshirt on, reveling in the warmth it provided. It smelled like hairspray and lavender, a hint of boy mixed with the two. It smelled like Steve. Silence settled over the two of you again and Steve couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” the words burst from within him, head turning to look at you for a moment. You looked calm and objective like Steve hadn’t even spoken in the first place. “The whole thing at The Hideout was so stupid. I don’t even know why I did that,” you looked at him then, expression still neutral. “I guess I just feel like I need to protect you and I took it too far,” your brow scrunched at that, finally giving Steve an insight into your thoughts.

“Protect me? You and Tommy tormented me for years,” anger rose in your throat. You hadn’t meant to get mad, still considering what Robin said, but Steve’s twisted claim brought it out of you in the way that only he could.

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry about that too. I just- I just wanted to fit in, to be cool. But I realize now that none of that shit ever mattered. I mean, how important was popularity when the one person that I actually cared about couldn’t stand me?” Steve spoke and the tension in your face dropped. The one person Steve cared about? Was he talking about you? You took a deep breath, thinking over your words when the car came to a stop in front of your driveway.

“Steve,” you spoke softly, almost a whisper, like the breeze rattling through the trees. “I can’t just forget about all of it because you’ve abruptly changed. I can’t just decide to be your friend all of a sudden. You hurt me, for a long time. Hell, you still do,” Steve winced, wanting to turn back time to when you were five, when nothing bad had happened to you yet and things were much simpler. 

“I know,” Steve’s head sunk, his chest aching with each passing second.

“I just,” you stopped, jumbled thoughts bouncing around your head. “I just think it’s easier when we keep ourselves apart. It doesn’t hurt as much that way,” the streetlights above reflected the swelling tears in your eyes as they threatened to spill. You hadn’t meant to cry, and you surely didn’t want to. Steve understood your sentiments. Being around you only reminded him of how it could’ve been if he hadn’t tried so hard to fit in. If he hadn’t screwed it all up.

“But maybe we could try. Try to be friends,” the words surprised Steve as they left his lips. They came out far bolder than he felt capable of being at the moment. “Group settings, public places. Baby steps, you know?” Steve tried to stop the hope building in his chest, too worried about the damage it would do if you said no. But you didn’t. 

“Maybe,” you said in a whisper, a tear finally tracking down your cheek. A soft smile slipped over Steve’s lips, the same one he wore around you as a kid. The same smile you saw before he traipsed over the hill, leaving you on the sidewalk with the worms. Your lips twitched upwards for a second before you pulled the door handle and exited the car. 

The feeling of hope now took full form, blossoming in Steve’s chest, filling every crack and crevice between his ribs. He watched you walk up to your front door, still wearing his sweatshirt, slipping inside your house with a small wave in Steve’s direction. Steve put the car back in gear, pulling into his driveway next door. He shut the car off and leaned back in his seat, still unable to wipe the smile from his face. Maybe. He could work with maybe.

You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding

Eddie’s van was a mess. Your legs brushed against fast food wrappers while cigarette butts covered the floor, crunching under your sneakers. It smelled like weed and sweat with a hint of the black ice air freshener that you forced him to buy a while ago. It was early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky as Eddie made a right turn out of your neighborhood.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, shifting to look at Eddie. He had his hair pulled up into a messy bun that you insisted on doing for him. It was a rare and rather unwelcome hairstyle for the metalhead, but it was well warranted for the occasion. 

“Because Buckley wants to learn how to play basketball and Harrington asked for my help,” Eddie shrugged, approaching a stop sign and making a left. You rolled your eyes, letting out a huff of air from your chest.

“But you hate basketball,” you groaned, wondering why Robin would even want to learn how to play in the first place. 

“Yes, but they’re my friends and they asked for my help, so my help they shall receive,” normally you would have laughed at Eddie’s goofiness, but the thought of being around Steve loomed over your head. You still hadn’t seen each other since the party, just glimpses through bedroom windows. It was hard to say where either of you stood with each other. Becoming friends seemed like an impossible feat on your part, too stuck in the past to care about the potential future.

“Okay, so why am I included in this? Steve didn’t ask for my help,” you pulled your feet from the trash-covered floor, finally sick enough of how the garbage touched your ankles. Your feet rested on the seat and you hugged your knees close to your chest. Your head sat atop them, watching Eddie closely with narrow eyes, trying to figure out if this was some scheme to get you near Steve.

“Each team needs two players, Baby. Kind of hard to play a two v. two with only three people,” you let out another groan and Eddie smirked in response, knowing you couldn’t refute him anymore. He made a sharp right turn, pulling up to the outdoor basketball courts that sat behind the high school. Eddie turned off the engine and tapped your knee. It was his way of telling you to get out of the car and lock your door behind you. The two of you began your walk over and could just barely make out three figures through the holes in the chain link fence that surrounded the basketball courts.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear athletic shorts before. I might pass out at the sight of your legs,” you said to Eddie as the two of you walked through the gate, entering the basketball court. You barely had time to accentuate your comment with a smirk before Eddie leaned in close.

“Reel it in, Baby. Best not to flirt with me in front of Harrington. Wouldn’t want to risk him getting jealous again,” your face grew hot at Eddie’s comment, the thought of a jealous Steve stirring something deep in the pit of your stomach, something like desire. Eddie donned a stupid smile as you approached Robin, Steve, and Lucas in the middle of the court.

“What’s up with you?” Steve asked, noticing your flustered appearance. Your eyes darted back over to Eddie, who continued to wear the same shit-eating grin as before.

“Nothing, just ready to play some basketball,” you deflected and Steve nodded, covering the basic rules of the game. Lucas was acting as the referee for the match, making it feel much more intense than it should have. That’s probably why you took it so seriously, covering Robin as if your life depended on it. Steve won the tip-off, sending the ball back to Robin. She caught it and began to dribble towards the basket. She looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time as she made her way up the court, nearly smacking the ball away from herself in the process. You used it to your advantage, managing to grab the ball from her, dribbling up the opposite side of the court, and scoring a basket from the three-point line. Steve retaliated after that, shooting his own shot and tying the score. It continued like that for a bit, Eddie and Robin eventually gave up on trying to cover the both of you, which was how you ended up in front of Steve, desperately attempting to block his shot.

“Worried you’re gonna miss?” you taunted as Steve dribbled in front of you, your back to the basket. A cocky smirk overtook his lips then, bringing the ball up to shoot. It would’ve gone in too, if you hadn’t smacked it out of the air, stealing it for yourself. You sprinted down the court towards the other basket with Steve hot on your trail. He managed to get in front of you and you turned your back towards him, protecting the ball in the meantime before you could get a clear shot. “Come on, Harrington. I thought you were the team captain back in high school. Figured you’d be better than this,” you knew it was dangerous, teasing him in such a flirty way, but it was all in good fun, right?

“Oh, I’ll show you, Baby,” Steve practically whispered into your ear, his chest pressing against your back. If you weren’t so focused on beating Steve you would’ve felt the goosebumps that littered your spine. Steve’s arms came up to circle you, so you moved, pivoting to take your shot and knocking Steve out of the way in the process. He lost his balance as the ball left your fingertips. You felt Steve’s hands find your torso as you watched the ball tip into the basket, dragging you down with him as he fell. Your shirt had ridden up when you made your shot, causing Steve’s fingers to brush against your bare skin. It felt like you were falling in slow motion until you finally landed hard on top of Steve, your back flush to his chest. 

Pain shot up your sides as Steve’s fingernails scraped against the semi-healed scars that resided there. You got up quickly, not taking the time to register your pain, lifting your shirt again to see that the wounds had broken open on both sides. It took Steve a second to get up after hitting the ground so hard. The others rushed toward the two of you, but your eyes landed on Steve, his gaze already honed in on the fresh blood pooling on your skin. His hands came down to his own torso, feeling the scarred flesh that matched yours. 

After everything was said and done, the dust settled and Vecna gone for good, there was only the matter of medical care to worry about. Eddie was mostly unscathed, with a few bat bites here and there, but nothing some disinfectant and band-aids couldn’t fix. Lucas was sure to have a swollen eye, cuts, and bruises after fighting Jason. Max was delivered to the hospital where the doctors said she would make a full recovery but might need a pair of glasses. Which just left you and Steve. You had jumped in right after him at Lover’s Lake, fighting your way through the water as he was tugged deeper below. When you popped out of the gate mere seconds after him, the bats swarmed you too. It wasn’t until Nancy appeared, oar in hand, that you managed to escape the feeling of the bat’s teeth sinking into your skin. 

The bats had gotten you good, doing just as much damage to you as they had to Steve. When the fight was over and everyone was safely right-side-up, you refused to get medical care, worried that you’d be poked and prodded while Owens’ doctors tried to study your wounds. Steve refused too, unwilling to be treated unless you were first, not that you knew that.

Robin and Eddie insisted on staying with the two of you to make sure nothing bad happened in the middle of the night. But you said no, pointing out that Eddie needed to stay hidden until his name was cleared. Not to mention that you just wanted to be alone after the strenuousness of the previous few days. You assured Robin and Eddie that your parents would take care of you if anything happened, same with Steve. They reluctantly agreed, dropping you and Steve off in front of your house, leaving the two of you to go your separate ways.

You were about to trudge up the lawn and enter your house, thinking about finally being able to sleep, when you caught sight of Steve’s empty driveway. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that his parents were out of town, and he hadn’t mentioned it to Eddie or Robin either. Steve had already started walking towards his house when you called his name.

“You didn’t say that your parents weren’t home,” you jogged up to him, wincing at the pain that shot up your side. Steve shrugged, also looking desperate for a decent night of sleep. Steve turned around again, continuing towards his house, leaving you on his lawn. You started following him until he saw you from the corner of his eye and stopped again.

“What are you doing?” the words sounded twisted as they fell from his lips, the same venom you expected from the boy who bullied you for years. Your face grew hot with anger, suddenly wondering if you should just turn back around and retreat to your house.

“You can’t be alone tonight, not when you’re in such bad shape,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to come across firmly in an attempt to discourage Steve from arguing with you. He simply raised a brow in question. 

“I think I’ll be fine,” he moved to turn on his heel again, to scale his front steps and enter the cold empty house before him. But your arm shot out, landing on his arm and stopping him in his tracks. Steve froze, mind racing at the feel of your skin against his. He couldn’t remember the last time you touched him, given that you usually kept your distance whenever he was near.

“Steve, I can’t leave you alone in good conscience. If you bleed out and die, that’s on me,” you spoke the words quietly, almost sounding embarrassed to have to say them at all. Steve studied you, eyes roaming over your face. The walls you kept up around him seemingly fell in that moment as he caught sight of the worry hidden deep in your gaze. He nodded then, giving in and leading you to his front door, trying not to look visibly upset when your hand no longer held him.

The house was just as you remembered from when you were a kid. Clean and organized, everything in its designated place. It always frightened you back then, a house so pristine that it didn’t look like anyone could possibly live there. You followed Steve as he ascended the staircase, both of you winded and clutching your wounds when you got to the top. Steve showered in the bathroom attached to his room, offering you a towel and clean clothes before sending you off to the guest bathroom.

The hot water pulsed down on you, blood and grime swirling around the drain at your feet. The water seared your skin with each drop, but you didn’t mind, hoping the sweltering heat would rid you of the horrors you’d witnessed within the past few days. The sight of Eddie being tackled to the ground by a swarm of bats. The sound of Steve’s screams as his flesh was torn open. Your own wails of pain as the bats did the same to you a few feet away. Max’s broken limbs and unfocused eyes as Lucas held her in his arms on the way to the hospital.

You turned the shower off, unwilling to let your thoughts run rampant anymore. You were careful when drying off, avoiding your wounds to keep blood from soiling Mrs. Harrington’s stark white towels. She’d be sure to have a fit at the sight of a stain. You dressed quickly, pulling Steve’s old shirt and baggy sweatpants on. There wasn’t a first aid kit in the guest bathroom, so you headed back to Steve’s room, holding your shirt away from your body to avoid getting blood on it. You knocked gently on Steve’s bedroom door and it only took a moment for him to open it for you. 

His hair was wet, a towel draped over his bare shoulders. He was shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips as water dripped down his hairy chest. Your eyes lingered there for a moment before trailing to the bandages wrapped around his torso. Steve’s eyes followed yours, landing on the gauze tied tightly to his skin.

“I seem to get the shit beat out of me anytime something like this happens,” he used his towel to gently pat his hair dry. “I’ve gotten pretty good at patching myself up,” Steve shrugged, hanging the towel on the back of his bathroom door. 

“Can you do mine?” you asked quietly, lifting your shirt to reveal your wounds. Steve’s gaze flickered down to them, blood from each gash threatening to spill down your sides. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of your exposed skin. It was dumb, just your stomach on display, but it took Steve a second to contain himself. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, memories of your bare skin seen on the few occasions that you forgot to close your curtains before changing. Steve always looked away, but the flashes of your skin were seared into his brain. He nodded in response to your question, going into the bathroom with you trailing behind him. He told you to sit on the counter, pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet next to your dangling legs. Steve wiped each wound with an antiseptic wipe, cleaning the area and sopping up the thin blood that surrounded it. His hands were gentle and soft like he was afraid to touch you, to break you.

“Hold this,” Steve placed a gauze pad on one of the wounds, his fingers guiding your hand to rest over it, holding it in place. He ignored the tingle in his fingers as his skin brushed yours, moving on to place another pad over the other blemish. Your hand came up automatically, holding it in place without Steve having to tell you again. He unraveled the rest of the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your waist, softly brushing your hands away when he no longer needed you to hold the pads in place. Steve circled it around you a few times, finally securing the gauze tightly in place with a swift knot.

“Thank you, Steve,” you whispered, his face close to yours. Steve hummed in response, letting his eyes drift to your lips for a moment too long before pulling himself away and packing up the first aid kit. He returned it to the cabinet, his shoulder brushing your leg in the process, sending chills down his spine. 

Steve stood then, opening the linen closet by the door, searching for a blanket to give you in case the guest room got too cold. You were tired, to the point of exhaustion really, longing to lay your head against a soft pillow. But fear came creeping in, the demons in your closet, or the demogorgons rather, holding your mind hostage. The fears controlled you then, in combination with the exhaustion, speaking words from your lips that you otherwise wouldn’t have even considered muttering.

“Can I sleep in here? With you?” when you were first dropped off all you could think about was finally being alone, but as you sat there now, Steve's clothes covering your skin, you realized that wasn’t what you wanted at all. Steve froze, and his quest to find a blanket quickly halted. He looked up at you, taking in the heavy bags under your eyes, the weight of the past few days slumping your shoulders forward. He knew under normal circumstances that you never would have asked, and probably couldn’t have even stood being in the same room as him for more than two minutes, but these weren’t normal circumstances. And he would take what he could get.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can take the bed,” Steve turned to the linen closet once more, searching for a blanket for himself this time. He heard you slide off the counter, thinking you’d brush past him and get into his bed, but you didn’t. You stopped next to him, pulling Steve’s focus to you.

“You can’t sleep on the floor. What if you bleed out? I’d never know if you were down there. At least not until the morning,” Steve placed his hands on your shoulders, ceasing your seemingly endless babble. Your eyes were wide and bloodshot, staring back at Steve with a worried brow.

“Okay,” he agreed, trying to calm himself, the jitters of being so close to you creeping in. “We’ll both sleep in my bed,” his hands fell to his sides and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Steve left the bathroom, turning out the light as he did. You slid into Steve’s bed, the sheets pulled up around you as Steve switched off his lamp. The bed dipped beside you from Steve’s weight. You went to roll over, trying to face him, but you were met with pain, gasping and clutching your side with a hiss. Steve shot up, trying to help you but only injuring himself with his sharp movement in the process. You couldn’t help but laugh as you both settled down onto your backs.

“Aren’t we a pair,” you mumbled and Steve chuckled beside you. The room was dark, filled with the scent of a burned-out candle, Steve's lavender-scented shampoo, dirty laundry, and something else inherently Steve. Your eyes watched the ceiling, lying in silence next to the boy you supposedly hated. He rustled around beside you, trying to get comfortable. In a normal situation, you would’ve snapped at him for moving the bed so much, but right now you found it amusing. After another minute of restless movement, he let out a groan.

“I normally sleep on my stomach, but this shit makes it impossible,” annoyance laced his tone as he referred to the bat bites lining the front of his stomach. Your head turned in his direction, silently taking in his side profile, his sharp nose, and long eyelashes. He almost looked normal if you ignored the angry ring of red flesh lining his neck. 

“I’m a side sleeper,” you spoke softly, Steve’s head turning towards your voice. For some reason, he liked hearing more about you, even if it was just something as silly as how you normally slept. “I’m in the same boat as you, Harrington,” the wounds on your sides making it impossible to lay that way. Steve could just make out the shadows of your face in the dim light. The curve of your lips, the arch of your brow, the tip of your nose. He thought you looked beautiful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop the bats from getting you,” your lip quivered then, tears welling in your eyes as you lived up to your crybaby nickname. You weren’t sure where the burst of emotion came from, chalking it up to the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon you. Steve lifted his head, his hand coming up to brush away your tears.

“Are you kidding? You jumped in right after me. If you hadn’t been there I would’ve been dead in less than a minute. You distracted some of them. I would’ve been bat food if not for you. If anyone’s sorry it should be me,” you shook your head and Steve’s hand came down to rest on your cheek, thumb rubbing circles against it gently as he spoke. Why were you letting him hold you like this? Why did it feel so comforting? You sniffled, trying to stop your tears from falling. “Baby, you saved me. I need you to know that,” you nodded at his reassurance, too choked up still to use your words. Your eyes were heavy by then, the lack of sleep weighing in on you even more. 

“I'm glad I went through that gate then,” you mumbled, words barely audible through your sleep-slurred speech. With the last of your energy, you moved, rolling onto your stomach, the wounds on your sides untouched by the mattress. Steve followed your lead, moving onto his side, and facing you. His arm draped across you, careful to avoid your wounds, and a soft sigh left your lips as your eyes slowly closed. Your breath evened out soon after, slowed inhales and exhales taking over. Steve’s fingers found the bulge of the cotton pads on your side, tracing across them gently, a comforting gesture that you’d never know about. He wished he had superpowers, the ability to heal you with just a touch. But he didn’t, so he’d do this instead, easing your pain with a soft touch while you slept.

When you woke in the morning you had the overwhelming urge to pee. You slid gently from Steve’s embrace, somehow managing to get even closer to him during the night. You tiptoed to the bathroom, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy. The large mirror covering the wall taunted you when you finished, urging you to take a peek beneath the gauze. You caved, hands gently pushing the gauze to the side. The bleeding had stopped and the gashes already started looking better. It was curious how well they had cleared up overnight, but you just shrugged, used to the strangeness of the supernatural by now. You climbed back into bed with Steve after putting the bandages back into place. You wanted another minute of peace, a moment, maybe the last of its kind, when you and Steve didn’t hurt each other. When Steve Harrington was still the boy you knew, not the one you’d grown to loathe.

“Shit Steve, seriously?” You winced as the blood began to trickle down your skin. “It’s a basketball game, not tackle football,” you lost your balance for a moment, Lucas’ arms shooting up to steady you. Steve stood speechless, incapable of fathoming how his hands did so much harm to you. The skin had never quite healed right, you suppose, more fragile than most other places on your body. “Eddie, can you take me home,” you asked, trying to keep your shirt from getting wet with blood, knowing your shorts were a lost cause with scarlet droplets already pooling at the waistband. Eddie nodded quickly, rushing to your side as if he had to carry you to the van.

“I can take you. I mean, I live next door. I’ll clean you up,” Steve suddenly was able to find words, knocked out of his stupor. He moved towards you then, but you raised your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“I asked Eddie,” you spoke with a glare, already walking toward the court’s exit. Eddie shot Steve a sympathetic look before following behind you. Robin lifted her hand to comfortingly pat Steve’s back while his mouth fell slightly agape. You got into the van with a wince and Eddie closed the door for you. Robin, Steve, and Lucas were filing off the court then. Steve’s head was down while he unlocked his car. Eddie turned the keys in the ignition, started the van, and began to pull out of the lot.

It was an accident, you knew that, so why did it frustrate you so much? The same hands that once held yours as children now were the ones to lacerate your skin. Maybe it was the ache you buried deep inside, the one you’d never been able to alleviate, the pain Steve perpetuated for years. The one you hadn’t been able to forgive him for no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you wanted to. He left you, tossed you aside like you were some old sweater discarded beneath his bed, like you were nothing. It seemed never-ending like you’d never escape his harmful grasp. You wanted to be five again when the world seemed so much kinder and you loved Steve Harrington. Maybe the latter was still true, maybe that’s why he scarred you more than the others ever had.

As Eddie drove towards the exit, your gaze drifted up, landing on Steve. Robin and Lucas had already gotten into Steve’s car, but he stood outside of it, arms resting on the crook between the car’s roof and the door. His eyes followed you through the van window as Eddie sped away. A strange look overtook Steve’s face, one you couldn’t quite read. It was the look of a boy that never wanted to hurt you, but somehow constantly did.

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

           The sun hid behind the clouds, peaks of light streaming through the cracks in the sky. Tires rolled against the pavement, making their way across town. The radio was low in the car, some Fleetwood Mac song lulling softly through the air. Your car was old, covered in dents and scratches, with windows that only opened halfway and an engine that grumbled with each press to the gas pedal. Even though your parents offered to help you buy a new one, a more reliable form of transportation, you refused. This car held too many memories in its stained cloth seats. Your first kiss in the backseat, jam sessions with Eddie, driving Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas to the science fair where they finally got first place again. You couldn’t let it go, not yet, not while it still had some life in it. You knew how much it sucked to be abandoned. 

           The tires screeched and squealed as you turned into the Family Video parking lot. You pulled into a space near the front of the store, dim headlights shutting off when you pulled the keys from the ignition. Robin had told you she was working today, but as you looked around you were unable to find her bike in its normal place on the bike rack. You did however spot a maroon BMW parked near the back of the lot. That lying bitch. A sigh fell from your lips, eyes closing at the thought of seeing Steve. It had been two days since the basketball incident and you had been sure to keep your distance. Steve’s sorry eyes peeked through bedroom windows and only made you feel guilty for getting mad at him in the first place. But you couldn’t stall this any longer, the movies were due today and you’d be pissed if you got another late fee. So you grabbed the tapes from the passenger seat, holding them close to your chest as you closed your car door and walked through the entrance to Family Video.

           Steve stood hunched over the counter, the same way he normally did when the store was empty like it was now. His eyes were glued to the magazine that rested on the counter before him. It was a Cosmopolitan. He was ashamed to admit that he was searching its pages for tips on how to get back in your good graces. So far he was coming up short, but he still skimmed through it anyway. The bell rang above the door, signaling to Steve that a customer had entered. 

           “Welcome to Family Video. My name’s Steve. Let me know if you need help with anything,” the words spilled from Steve’s lips automatically, his gaze still glued to the magazine. It took Steve a moment to register the silence he received in response, brushing it off as another inconsiderate customer. At least that’s what he thought until a stack of tapes slammed down on the counter beside him. Steve looked up then, seeing you standing across from him with raised eyebrows. Your eyes trailed down to Steve’s magazine, and his gaze followed yours. In less than a second, Steve had slid the magazine off the counter, quickly tossing behind him. You simply blinked, an amused smile blossoming on your lips as the magazine crashed to the floor. 

           “I want to return some tapes,” you couldn’t help the smirk that remained as you spoke, pushing the stack of video tapes in front of the boy. Steve nodded, picking up the first tape and scanning it back into the system. “What were you reading there, Harrington?” he could hear your smile through your amused tone, refusing to meet your eyes as he continued to scan your tapes. 

           “Sports Illustrated,” Steve lied, ignoring the way your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, clutching your sides as giggles poured from your throat. Your laughter was contagious, causing a few chuckles to spring out of Steve too. 

           “Whatever you say, Harrington,” you composed yourself, finally ceasing your giggles, but the smile remained taut on your lips. Steve handed over your receipt for the returned tapes, expecting you to leave after clutching it in your hands, but you didn’t. Your feet drifted over to the movie-lined aisles and Steve couldn’t help but follow, tripping over his discarded magazine in the process. 

Eventually, you stopped in front of a shelf, Steve watched the way you studied your options. When one finally caught your attention you leaned up, standing on your tippy toes to grab it. Your shirt rode up in the process, revealing the large bandages that covered the wounds on your sides. Steve’s heart dropped, the memories of the basketball game, the whole reason he had been reading that stupid magazine in the first place, flooded his mind. Just as your fingers brushed the front of the tape, seconds from getting ahold of it, Steve’s hand lifted it instead, offering it to you.

“Thanks,” you said sincerely, only then noticing the kicked puppy look on Steve’s face. You opened your mouth to speak again, but Steve beat you to it.

“I’m so sorry about the other day. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got carried away,” Steve’s gaze drifted to the ground, missing the pity that swelled in your eyes. “I’m sorry this shit keeps happening. It’s just that when I’m with you I can’t seem to function like a normal person,” he lifted his head then, catching a glimpse of emotion in your expression. Regret? Or is it that underlying anger you saved just for him?

“It’s fine, Steve,” you assured him, but the boy wasn’t comforted. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but you didn’t let him. “Dude, I’m sick of hearing you apologize. It's fine. If anything I should apologize for being such a bitch about it. It was an accident, let’s move on,” Steve eyed you, unsure whether you were messing with him or not. But you were serious, hoping that the old Steve still lived within the boy in front of you, and that one day you could make amends. Maybe this was the first step, and if that meant forgiving him for something he accidentally did, then so be it. “Check me out?” you asked, holding the tape up for Steve to see. He nodded, going back behind the counter. He reached down, grabbing a copy of Casablanca from under the counter and placing it next to the movie you had just picked out, but you shook your head.

“You don’t want it?” Steve asked, suddenly wondering if you had been kidnapped and replaced by a clone. That was the only logical explanation for your behavioral change towards both him and your favorite movie. 

“Kinda bored of complicated romances at the moment. Maybe another day,” Steve slid the movie back under the counter, keeping it there in case you changed your mind. “I heard this one was good though,” you gesture to the copy of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off that you had picked out. 

“Yeah, Robin said that she thinks I’d like it. Haven’t had a chance to watch it yet though,” Steve scanned the tape, fixing his gaze on the computer, where he typed in the code for his employee discount. He did it every time you came in during his shift, thinking he was sly and that you’d never noticed, but you caught on a while ago. It came to light after a rousing argument with Robin about how she had been overcharging you. 

You pulled a few crumpled bills from your purse, handing them over to Steve. He waited, knowing you were now going to dig around your purse until you found some coins, never willing to pay with anything other than exact change. After a few seconds, you pulled the coins out, two quarters, a dime, and three pennies. You placed them gently in Steve’s extended hand. His palm tingled with the brush of your fingers, quickly sorting the coins to alleviate the sensation. He handed you the bag with your tape when he finished putting your change away. With a small smile, you turned, heading back towards the door you entered through. Just as you were about to place your hand on the large handle and push it open, you stopped. Steve, who had been watching as you walked away, felt that dreaded sense of hope again, the one he felt so often when you were near.

“What time do you get done here?” Steve’s eyebrows raised, taken aback by your question. His mouth opened, fumbling for words as he checked his watch.

“Thirty-two minutes. Why?” you chuckled at his sudden nervousness. Maybe he really had come a long way from his days as King Steve. King Steve never would’ve struggled like this when talking to a girl.

“Do you want to watch this with me?” you held up the bag that housed the Ferris Bueller VHS, extending an olive branch. Steve’s response was immediate like he didn’t even need to think about it.

“Yes,” it was a simple answer, but you just nodded in return, a shy smile creasing the corners of your mouth. “We can watch it at my place. My TV is bigger,” Steve smirked, regaining his charming and flirty tone, the one you’d gotten so familiar with as a result of all the teasing. You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, smile still cresting your lips, and pushed your way through the exit.

“Whatever you say, Harrington,” you called out behind you, repeating the same words from earlier. Steve laughed, watching your retreating figure, the sway of your hips, and the swell of your ass. He looked at his watch again, still displaying the same time as when he had checked just moments before. Steve groaned into his hands. This was going to be the longest thirty-two minutes of his life. 

You were enveloped in a book, sitting on your window bench when a light tap sounded off next to you. Thinking it was just the old house creaking or something, you ignored it, eyes scanning the next page. That’s when it happened again, and again, and again. You pulled back your curtains and flung open the window only to narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face by a pebble.

“Shit, sorry,” Steve swore, his cheeks turning red with guilt and embarrassment. He was standing below your window, pebbles spilling out of his hand. A week or two ago, hell maybe even a few days ago, you would’ve gone off on him, screaming about nearly hurting you and potentially damaging your window. But now, you just smiled, taking in the sight of the boy next door. Only Steve Harrington could make a romantic gesture nearly turn into a trip to the hospital. “I tried to leave you a message, but your curtains were closed,” you glanced over to his window, spotting the piece of loose leaf taped to it with the words ‘come over?’ scrawled in black ink.

“Give me two seconds,” you pulled your head back inside, closing the window behind you. As you did, a few of the army men on your window sill fell on their sides, no longer facing the window across the gap between two houses. Snagging the video tape from your desk, you ran down the steps, stopping in front of the mirror hung up in the hallway. Why did you suddenly care how your hair looked around Steve? Brushing off the thought, you continued, opening the front door to be met by the boy next door. 

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded, following as he turned towards his house. You walked closely behind him, catching a whiff of hairspray, lavender, and cologne. Steve led you to the rec room in the basement, which housed the largest television in the Harrington residence. You handed him the tape and he slid it into the VCR before settling on the couch, a good two feet from where you sat. Neither of you mentioned the distance, just watching the movie and laughing at Ferris’ goofy antics.

As the movie progressed a chill ran through you, goosebumps prickling your skin. The Harrington’s seemingly liked to keep their basement ice cold. Steve noticed and pulled down the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. He laid it on his lap, extending the end of it towards you. You accepted his silent invitation, closing the gap and sitting close with the blanket wrapped around the two of you. The rest of the movie was spent that way, thighs brushing against one another when either of you moved.

When the credits finally ended, with Ferris Bueller in his bathrobe disappearing from the screen one last time, you felt at ease. You hadn’t expected to feel so comfortable with Steve, but it was almost a relief that you managed to get through a whole movie without wanting to kill him.

“That was so good. Robin was totally right, I loved it. I'm basically Ferris Bueller so it makes sense I guess,” Steve shrugged and you couldn’t hold back the laugh that bloomed from your lips at his comment. Steve turned to look at you, a brow arched in confusion at your humor. “What?” he asked bluntly, a hint of amusement on his face.

“You would think that you’re Ferris,” you spoke, looking smug. Steve's lips stretched into a daring grin, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Okay, if I’m not Ferris then who am I?” Steve leaned in close and you rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder.

“It’s so obvious that you’re Cameron. Sure, the people that don’t know you that well might think you’re Ferris, but I know you Steve Harrington, and you’re Cameron fully and completely,” your grin widened with Steve’s look of exasperation. His hand flew to his chest in mock offense.

“What the hell makes me Cameron?” his words still had the air of joviality behind them despite his faux wounded front. The corner of your lips faltered then, suddenly reluctant to divulge more about your characterization of the boy before you. You didn’t want to tell him what he already knew, that he and Cameron shared a strained relationship with their fathers, both all too afraid of disappointing the men who raised them. That up until recently both boys took all the shit that their fathers gave them, too freighted to stand up to them. You didn’t want to say any of it, which was fine because Steve already knew. From the second Cameron appeared on the screen, the voice in the back of Steve’s head pointed out each similarity that they shared. Silence settled over the two of you, smiles fading in the quiet room.

“If it makes you feel better,” you began, voice small and fingers fidgeting on your lap. Steve wanted to reach over and grab them, encase your fingers with his, but he restrained himself. “Cameron was my favorite character in the movie,” you nodded towards the TV screen that now reflected a blank blue shadow over the pair of you. Steve observed your bashful demeanor, thinking about how cute you looked when you got all shy. 

“You would definitely be Jeanie,” Steve asserted, breaking through the uncomfortable quiet. Your jaw dropped at the comparison and the smile returned to Steve’s lips at your reaction.

“Ferris’s bitchy sister?” Steve nodded and you shoved him again. He righted himself, continuing to make his point.

“I mean, come on, it’s so obvious,” Steve repeated your words from earlier and you shook your head. “You’re both a little crazy in a hot way. Not to mention you both go for bad boys,” you glared at Steve, but he could tell you weren’t actually mad.

“I’m not into bad boys, asshole,” you defended and Steve’s smirk grew, his rebuttal already concocted in his head.

“Oh really? So it wasn’t you that hooked up with Billy Hargrove at Tina’s Halloween party two years ago?” your jaw dropped again, and Steve’s snickering filled the air. He reached over, pressing your chin up to close your mouth. You brushed his hand off of you in confusion.

“How the hell do you know about that?” you asked, confusion and curiosity coursing through your thoughts. “Did Eddie tell you? I swear to god I’m never telling him anything ever again,” you crossed your arms, waiting for Steve to talk.

“Hargrove used to brag about it to me and try to rub it in my face,” Steve informed you and your face wrinkled, filled with questions. “I guess he thought that it would make me mad since you and I used to be friends or whatever,” Steve shrugged, no longer smiling. He watched you, unsure how you would react to his explanation. 

“Did it?” you questioned, and Steve shrugged again. He didn’t want to tell you that it did, that it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself from punching the blond boy’s stupid face.

“A little,” Steve lied and another silence fell over the room, but it wasn’t as tense this time. Steve waited a moment before speaking again, watching the way you avoided his gaze. “Why’d you even hook up with him? I thought you hated him,” Steve’s voice was quiet, unwilling to break through the low noise barrier that settled between you.

“You stole my copy of Pride and Prejudice,” you let out a sigh, gaze shifting to your hands that rested in your lap again. Steve’s brow furrowed, confused about the correlation between his question and your response. “It was the copy my grandma gave me when I was 11. I had notes in the margins on just about every page. You took it from my bag in homeroom the day before the party and refused to give it back,” Steve knew what you were talking about. He couldn’t remember why he took it, but he knew that he still had it, tucked away in his closet, in a spot that only he could find.

“But what does that have to do with Billy?” Steve still didn’t understand. Your hands ran over your face as you let out a sigh.

“You hated him and he hated you. I figured the enemy of my enemy was my friend, which wasn’t true by the way. I was super pissed about the book and a little tipsy. I needed to blow off some steam, so one thing led to another and we hooked up in his car after the party,” you were ashamed of it, regret filling you the second it was over. “I didn’t know that he was such a douchebag when it happened. If I had known how badly he treated Max and Lucas then I never would’ve done it,” you explained, still unable to meet Steve’s gaze, embarrassed by your past. Steve’s hand extended, tilting your chin with his finger, allowing your eyes to finally meet his.

“I shouldn't have taken your book, Baby,” Steve whispered and you gave him a soft smile in return. The nickname rang through the air and reverberated off the walls. Hearing it didn’t bother you for some reason. For the first time in years, the word didn’t sting as it fell from Steve’s lips. Maybe the tide finally turned, the war nearly over. It gave you a sense of courage, making you brave enough to let your next question out in the open.

“When Billy bragged about it, what did he say?” Steve was taken aback, wondering why you would want to know. Billy’s words were far from nice, if anything they were disrespectful and an invasion of privacy. But the way you looked at Steve now told him that you genuinely wanted to know, needed to know.

“It was really depraved stuff, like how your body felt against him,” Steve started and you nodded, motioning with your hands for him to continue. “He said you would start to breathe heavily when he kissed your neck. That you did this thing with your tongue when you kissed that felt insanely good. He said you moaned his name like it was made just for you to say it. That your thighs shook when you…” Steve trailed off, face flushed and unwilling to finish his sentence. He had started speaking slower with each sentence, despite the racing of his heart. The tension floated thick in the air, crowding the room and making it way too hot for the blanket draped over your lap. Steve wasn’t sure when his hand had dropped to your lap, brushing between your legs from over the blanket.

Your eyes were glued to Steve’s, unaware of the distance that disappeared between you with each passing second. His breath mingled with yours, tingling against your skin. Your tongue darted out, bringing moisture to your dry lips. The heat between your thighs ached to be relieved, wishing Steve’s hand would travel higher up your thigh as his jeans tightened at the sight of your gaze alone. The blue from the TV screen that coated the room disappeared as your eyes fluttered shut. Both sets of lips were centimeters from meeting in the middle when the VCR popped out the tape, landing with a loud smack on the ground. Steve had leaned on the remote while moving closer toward you, accidentally pressing the eject button. He knew he needed to fix the VCR, worried about its tendency to spit out tapes rather than the slow half push it was supposed to do, but he’d put it off, too tired after a long day of work. You broke apart at the sound, creating more distance as you moved the blanket from your legs and scrambled back, Steve’s hand falling into the now empty space. Neither of you could look up at the other.

“I wish we stayed friends when we were in middle school,” Steve said after a long span of silence. He never wanted to be your enemy, never wanted to drive you into the arms of an undeserving man. Your eyes met then, his were glassy, which was something you hadn’t expected. 

“Yeah, me too,” your voice was small but sure, words speaking nothing but the truth. You didn’t remind him why you weren’t, something you would’ve done a week ago. Instead, you sat in agreement, pondering how different your life would be.

“I wonder what would've changed,” he spoke. It was soft, almost a whisper, and you longed to be close to him again. To feel his words fan across your lips instead of the empty space beside you. “If I would’ve been friends with Tommy, if I would’ve dated Nancy, if we’d be off at a college somewhere instead of this shithole town,” Steve was louder now, melancholy mixed with underlying anger. Even if you were finally able to be friends now, Steve couldn’t help but think about the time he missed out on with you and all the other lingering what-ifs. 

“We could still get out one day. Leave the teen angst and trauma behind,” you sounded normal again, reassuring to Steve’s overactive thoughts. “Maybe we could go together,” Steve’s heart leaped out of his chest at your words, but he reeled it back in. It was still new, being able to talk without words slicing into the other’s skin. You looked at him with anticipatory eyes, awaiting his response.

“Just give me the signal Baby and we can be out of here before sunrise,” Steve extended his hand, this was a deal to shake on, a long-term agreement that one day you’d run away together. You grinned, accepting his outstretched hand, wondering about where you’d go. Considering if you were in love with Steve Harrington, if you always had been. Dying to know if he was in love with you too.

A friend to all is a friend to none 

           Autumn had officially begun, a chill in the air that persuaded the orange leaves to tumble from the trees. It was your favorite time of year, though you couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that swelled in your heart at the thought of leaving the warm summer sun behind. Eddie insisted that you come to visit him at work, his desperation ringing out through the static of the phone. After a few minutes of groveling, you caved and agreed to go, which is how you ended up banished to the backseat of Steve’s car on the way to the record store on main street. Robin had called shotgun, but you didn’t mind, having the entire backseat to yourself and stretching out your legs. Steve’s car smelled like pine trees and leather, hairspray and cologne, as it rolled along the pavement. 

Steve pulled up to a parking spot in front of the record store, placing his hand on the passenger seat headrest as he threw the car in reverse. He turned his head towards the car’s rear, watching carefully as he backed into a spot, shooting you a wink before he faced the front again. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread over your cheeks, feeling like a bumbling schoolgirl with a crush. Ever since your movie night, your almost kiss, things had been different with Steve. Sure, there was still some teasing and the typical dirty innuendos, but it didn’t sting the way it used to. It didn’t evolve into slammed windows and drawn curtains, loud arguments and bruised egos. Something new coursed through your veins, your heart beating just to hear the sound of his voice. It was scary, the rush of feelings that you’d seemingly repressed for years, hidden under what you thought was hate. 

“You coming or what?” Robin leaned back into Steve’s car to face you. The thoughts of Steve had distracted you and you only now noticed that they had already exited the car. You followed suit, unbuckling and sliding across the seat to get out on Steve’s side. He greeted you with an arm slung around your shoulder, purposely messing up your hair in the process. You swatted at him, smoothing your hair back down as you walked through the store’s entrance together. Music wafted down from the speakers that littered the ceiling and you instantly knew that Eddie had picked out whatever metal song was playing. As if he could hear the mention of his name in your thoughts, Eddie appeared in front of you, grabbing ahold of your wrist and dragging you towards the front counter. Meanwhile, Robin and Steve headed towards the back, searching for some Abba vinyl that Steve had been wanting for ages. The absence of Steve’s arm around your shoulder left you with a chill, the tingle brought on by his touch subsiding, but you brushed it aside following the long-haired boy. 

You went behind the counter with Eddie, hopping up to sit in the space between the cash register and the pile of records stacked to the left. It was a familiar spot for you, somewhere you’d sat a million times, much to Eddie’s manager’s dismay. In this spot, you’d talk about dates that you went on, someone from high school who got knocked up or married, a new song Eddie was working on, and your hatred for Steve Harrington. But this time was different. Eddie remained silent as you perched before him, crossing his arms over his chest and peering at you with knowing eyes. He came to stand in front of you, his stomach brushing against your knees. You glared at him in response, already knowing the words that were about to crest his lips.

“You and Harrington have been awfully close lately,” a smirk danced across his face, arms uncrossing, hands landing to rest on your knees. You narrowed your eyes, placing your hands behind you, and leaning back on them.

“We’re sort of friends now, I guess,” you shrugged and Eddie leaned in even closer, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead as if he was testing your temperature. You smacked his hand away, earning a yelp in response. The grin reappeared on Eddie’s lips as he shook his hand to alleviate the pain caused by your slap. 

“Friends, huh?” you nodded as his question, eyeing Eddie for his next move. Someone entered the store, the chime of the bell over the door alerting the both of you. But the two of you didn’t flinch, didn’t even spare the new customer a glance, too enveloped in your weird standoff staring contest. Instead, Eddie called out his standard greeting, welcoming the person to Rad Records, as his eyes roamed over you, searching for an unspecified answer. “Just friends, nothing more?” Eddie finally continued, needing more evidence to make his case, to find the answer to his unasked question. And you gave it to him, eyes darting away from his and legs beginning to bounce. Eddie’s jaw dropped, a gasp seeping from the open space between his lips.

“Shut the fuck up, Edward,” you rushed out, clamping your hand over his slack jaw. Eddie’s wide eyes trailed from you to Steve and back. His lips moved behind your hand, trying to speak, but you shushed him, refusing to let go until he calmed down. You cringed at the swipe of his tongue against your palm, but still held on tight. After a few seconds, Eddie stopped and you took it as a sign to set him free. Your hand retracted, falling limply onto your lap, where you wiped his saliva onto your jeans.

“Holy shit. You like him. You actually, consciously, like him,” Eddie whisper-yelled at you and it took a considerable amount of effort to not spontaneously combust at his words. It’s one thing to finally admit it to yourself, it’s another to hear it spoken out loud. Still, you felt like there was a ritual you had to play along with, like you had to deny the accusation.

“I so do not,” you spoke stubbornly, but Eddie could hear the give in your voice, knowing the truth.

“You totally do. The fact that it’s taken you this long to realize is insane,” Robin spoke up from behind you, startling you with her sudden appearance. You looked beside her, expecting to see Steve, but he wasn’t there. You didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved by his absence from the conversation.

“Where is Steve anyway?” you shifted on the counter, making space for Robin to rest her elbows next to you. Robin nodded towards the back of the store. Steve’s figure was obscured by the towering displays that littered the room.

“Some guy that he knew from the basketball team came in and started talking to him. Steve called him Jumpy or something. I dipped out as soon as I could, so Steve’s stuck back there now,” you cringed at the name that fell from Robin’s lips. Jumpy was the dumbass nickname of Allen Peterson, some douchebag that was friends with Tommy.

“Ugh, he and Tommy once broke into the girl’s locker room during gym and stole my clothes. I had to walk around in my gym uniform for the rest of the day. It was humiliating,” a frown bloomed on your lips, one that was echoed by Eddie and Robin. 

“I remember that. They somehow never got caught,” Eddie’s eyes trailed to the back of the store, still unable to spot Steve. “You want me to kick him out?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised in question, almost begging for the chance to kick someone out of the store. But you shook your head, tapping his shoulder so he’d move out of the way. He did, stepping to the side, allowing you to slide down from the glass counter.

“I want to see if he remembers me. Maybe mess with him a bit,” Eddie and Robin waved you off as you walked towards the back, the top of Steve’s perfectly styled hair coming into view as you got closer. You approached from behind Steve, not able to get a good view of his face. You were still hidden, questioning whether you should continue with your plan or not. Wondering if Allen would do something to upset you, tease you, and make you feel small. But Steve was there, and how could he hurt you when the boy you loved was standing by your side? Just as you were about to take a step out, you heard something, Allen’s voice. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you’ve been hanging out with such losers,” Allen’s words elicited a soft scoff from your lips. He peaked in high school but here he was calling you a loser? You wished you could see Steve’s face, to know what was running through his mind, the witty comeback that was sure to leave his lips any second now. But it didn’t. All you heard was the smooth sound of his laugh dancing through the store.

“Come on, man. They’re not that bad,” you brushed off Steve’s weak, delayed defense. At least he stood up for you in some regard, that’s what matters.

“Nah man, that Baby chick is nuts. I remember how weird she was in high school, always crying over something. Sometimes I just wanted to bend her over and give her something to cry about, you know?” Allen mimed thrusting his hips as his words hung in the air. It made you feel dirty and violated, like he had already touched you in the way he said that he wanted to. The boy viewed you as an object, nothing more than something to be used to satisfy his needs. Your eyes bore into the back of Steve’s head, willing him to speak up on your behalf. To defend you, to protect you, to punch this asshole in the face. But Steve was never good at defending you and all he did was laugh again. That irritatingly coy laugh, the one that set off alarm bells whenever you heard it. The laugh that belonged to the reigning king, not the boy you loved.

“Oh yeah, totally. One good screw would straighten her right out,” at that moment you could’ve sworn that the entire town could hear your heart as it shattered. You weren’t really sure when you revealed yourself from your hiding spot behind the bookshelf, but your eyes locked with Allen’s, and his stupid smirk dropped. Steve tracked his gaze, spinning on his heels to see you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, forehead creased, and red-hot anger coursing through you. You turned, moving as fast as you could towards the exit at the front of the store. Steve chased behind you, his hand catching your arm right after you passed through the door. Eddie and Robin looked alarmed at the sight of you both stopped before the store’s glass front.

“Let go of me,” you spoke hotly, cursing the strength of Steve’s grip. Steve’s eyes roamed over you, catching the flicker of hurt that flashed across your face before you restored it to its angry glare. 

“I didn’t mean it. It’s just-” Steve began, but you quickly cut him off, still trying to wrangle your arm from his grasp.

“I don’t give a shit what you meant, Harrington. I thought you changed. I forgave you for all the shit you put me through. Guess I wrong to think you were capable of being a decent person,” Steve’s eyes watered at your words, hating himself for making you doubt him and how he feels for you.

“I have changed. I don’t know why I said that shit,” Steve pleaded, he wanted you to understand, to give him five minutes to explain himself. But Steve knew this was it, you’d already made your decision, it wouldn’t matter even if he got down on his knees and begged. He’d broken your trust, said shit he didn’t mean, and now he’d lost you again, the same way he did years before, the way he never wanted to again. Steve let go of your arm, giving you the freedom you asked for when you first left the record store with him in tow. Your arm felt numb, empty, without Steve’s hand there, and you cursed your stupid heart for not wanting him to let go.

“I guess old habits die hard, Harrington. Stay the fuck out of my life,” your words spat from deep within you, fire coating each syllable. Steve watched as you turned, making your way down the sidewalk and turning into an alleyway between two stores. Eddie and Robin burst through the record store’s entrance, ignoring the autumn chill that they were greeted with as they did. Steve wiped his eyes, glad to have tears clouding his vision because he was not sure he could stand to see his best friend's face as he recounted the past few minutes to her. Eddie looked to Steve, silently asking where you went, and Steve lifted his hand pointing in your direction. Eddie took off, turning the corner to the alley to find you slumped on the ground, knees to your chest and head in your hands. He approached you slowly, pulling you into him when he finally got close enough. Sobs racked your body, chest heaving against Eddie’s as he held you in a tight hug, knees resting on the cement below. 

“I hate him, Eds. I fucking hate him,” Eddie nodded in understanding, stroking your hair and pulling it from where it stuck to your tear-stained cheeks. “I should’ve known he’d break my heart again. I should’ve known not to let myself fall in love with him,” your tears soaked Eddie’s shirt and he froze, stuck on the words that fell from your lips. Love. Sure, he’d known you liked Steve, but love was different. Love meant more hurt. It held more weight. It meant that you set aside the past and moved on. It meant you finally gave in to the feelings that gnawed at your heart and your brain each night. It meant that Steve really fucked up.

Chasing shadows in the grocery line

           Steve’s car finally peeled away and flew down main street, signaling to Eddie that the coast was clear. He walked you back to the now barren record store, save for his co-worker Terry, who was in the back unpacking a new shipment. Eddie asked Terry to cover for him and when Terry saw your tear-stained cheeks and red puffy eyes, he agreed, no questions asked. So Eddie put you in the passenger seat of his van and sped off down the road. You didn’t ask where he was going when he passed the street that led to your house, already knowing where he was taking you. 

           Eddie’s van stopped abruptly in front of his trailer. Wayne’s car was gone, signaling that he’d already left for work, leaving the trailer empty. It was getting dark, gloomy clouds blocking the sun as the moon rose in the sky opposite it. The porch lights flickered on, illuminating the shadows of your face through the cracked windshield. You caught sight of Lucas’ bike through the back window. It was lying on its side outside of Max’s trailer, thrown in haste. Normally it would’ve made you laugh, elicit a joke about young lovebirds to fall from your lips, but right now you couldn’t even will the corners of your lips to curl into a faint smile. 

Eddie opened your car door, gently lifting you by your waist and placing you on the ground. You followed him inside, trailing behind him like a lost, heartbroken puppy with nowhere else to go. He led you to his room, indicating for you to sit on his bed, so you did. Eddie placed a soft kiss on your forehead, the kind a mother gives her child, and lifted your arms. He disrobed you of your heavy knit sweater, your way of protecting yourself from the autumn winds that pierced the air, and replaced it with one of his Black Sabbath shirts. You unclipped your bra through the shirt, pulling it out of your sleeve before tossing it to the floor. The action always amazed Eddie, drawing a laugh from his lips, but this time he remained quiet, too concerned over you to pay attention to much else. Next, Eddie unlaced your shoes, pulling them from your feet. You shimmied from your pants after, throwing them across the room, uncaring where they landed. 

With a shaky breath, you laid down, facing the wall, your back turned to Eddie. Eddie pulled off his leather jacket, shucked off his jeans, and moved towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you, Eddie’s body now close to yours. He pulled the bed sheets up to cover you both before draping his arm across your torso. You relaxed into him a bit, fingers and legs intertwining with one another. It was a familiar position, one you and Eddie had shared a million times, but his comforting touch wasn’t working quite the same as it normally did. Not when your heart hurt this much.

Eddie wanted to ask what happened, pester you with questions, and uncover the truth, but he refrained, knowing you’d speak up when the time was right. His heart ached at the feel of your body shaking against his, small sobs springing from deep within your chest no matter how much you wanted them to stop. Eddie only held you tighter, his arms practically crushing your ribs as his own tears began to well in his eyes. You stayed like that for a while, long after the sun fully sank beneath the horizon, leaving the room in complete consuming darkness. The wind caused sapling branches to scrape against the window, becoming the only sound to fill the lingering silence. You stopped crying after a while, wishing you could sleep the pain away, but remaining unsuccessful in your attempts. 

Finally, you gave up, shifting to face Eddie, your forehead pressed to his. Breath intermingling, comforting you, letting you know that, yes, your heart may be broken, but you were still alive. Eddie studied you, unsure whether he should be the first to speak or not, but you quickly quelled that thought when you opened your mouth.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave Hawkins?” your question threw Eddie off, his brows scrunching in confusion. It’s not what he expected you to say. 

“Not unless the band takes off, and certainly not without Wayne,” Eddie had thought about it before, considered moving to a big city where the lights never dimmed and the gigs would never end. But as much as Hawkins may have hated him, he could never hate it in return. He’d get sick of the city noise and never be able to sleep, craving to hear the chirp of crickets and cicadas instead. So when you asked, he was sure of his answer. But he didn’t echo your question back to you, already knowing that your answer would be a resounding yes. It would be tough for you to leave everyone behind, but you longed for something different, somewhere new to help escape the past and finally look forward to the future. Eddie was lost in thought, still wondering why you asked that when you spoke again.

“He’s exactly who I thought he was,” it was a whisper, one that could easily be lost, left hanging in the air with no one around to hear it echo off the peeling walls. But Eddie heard it, he absorbed your words from the silent room, wanting to know more, so you continued. “I thought he was different now, but it turns out he’s still the same, too wrapped up in caring about what others think,” fresh tears sprang in your eyes, a sob tightening your throat as you spoke. “I’m tired of fighting against his undying need to be liked. I’m tired of losing against it every goddamn time. I’m done,” there was a finality to your tone, one that caused Eddie to lift his head from his pillow, a questioning look on his face.

“Sweetheart, do you want me to talk to him? Figure out what’s running through his head?” Eddie offered, but he knew the gesture would be wasted on you. Once you set your mind to it, it was done. But he wanted you to hear Steve out. He wanted you to find a way to reconcile your differences. For all the pain and confusion that Steve Harrington brought, he also filled you with joy and light. You’d been happier throughout the past few weeks than Eddie had ever seen you, illuminating rooms simply by entering them. Eddie didn’t want that to disappear, to be forever obscured by a compilation of closed curtains and avoidant gazes. But he was met with a furious shake of your head.

“No, Eds. I mean it. No more Steve,” Eddie nodded despite the voice in his head yelling at him to speak up and try to change your mind. It was no use. He rolled onto his back, one arm resting under his head, the other still laid across you. You shifted too, laying with your chest pressed to Eddie’s stomach, head resting just below his. “I wish it was you that I loved. It’d be much simpler that way,” you’re not sure why you said it, maybe the cloud that formed in your head from the day’s events expanded, spilling all of your hazy thoughts through your lips. It was a sad wish, an empty hurt with truth behind it. But Eddie understood, his own thoughts reflecting yours, the telepathy finally working in a way. He wanted to take away your pain in any way he could, but not like this. Not when your heart was beaten black and blue, longing for a simple ceasefire to mend your open wounds. Not when that same heart belonged to another, an echoed call through the woods waiting for the birds in the treetops to sing back with an affirmative answer. Eddie loved you, but not in the way the both of you currently wished for. An irrefutable loyalty that would consciously be limited to platonic fellowship, no romance lingering from either party in the way you held each other close.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” Eddie’s whisper slid through the strands of your hair, a soft kiss placed overtop of it. You’d grown quiet by then, breath evening out as you were finally granted your wish for sleep. Falling deep into a slumber where you were still five and Steve Harrington tucked flowers behind your ears as he whispered to you about love.

Days had passed, an endless stream of the same heartache and emptiness that blended each rise and fall of the sun together, making it difficult to distinguish one from the next. Robin called you probably a million times, but you refused to come to the phone. Your parents opted to unplug the phone from the wall for a few days, growing tired of the incessant ringing. You knew she just wanted to talk about Steve, but that was something you couldn’t quite handle yet. You’d only plugged the phone back in to call out of work, letting them know you had a nasty stomach bug, not caring if they believed you or not. The curtains in your room remained closed with the little army men on the window sill replaced in their defensive stance. To you, this was war. 

On the fifth day of refusing to depart from beneath your bed sheets, your mom entered your room, messing with the knick-knacks that covered your dresser as she did. A custom D20 from Dustin, a kazoo Eddie gave you for your birthday one year joking about how you could be Corroded Coffin’s lead kazoo player, a mixtape Robin lent you ages ago, a new pack of colored pencils you’d been meaning to give to Will, and a flower that had been dried and pressed into a glittery bookmark, all littered your dresser’s surface. Your mom grabbed the bookmark, admiring the way the lavender flower retained its shape despite being flattened so many years ago. It was the same lavender that grew from the ground beneath your bedroom window, decorating the grass between the Harrington’s house and your own. You watched closely as she eyed the bookmark, curiosity flooding your thoughts. 

“I remember making this with you,” she spoke softly, a gentle cadence meant to comfort you, and it sort of did. “You came running inside with the flower and insisted that we save it. You said it was too important to let die,” she sat on the edge of your bed, bookmark still glinting in the soft glow of the lamplight. You propped yourself up on your elbows, wondering where she was going with all of this. She handed you the bookmark then, and you took it, confused, examining it as if you’d never seen it before. 

“I don’t remember that,” your voice was hoarse from crying. It didn’t help that you hadn’t properly spoken out loud in days, too congested with the bustling thoughts running laps around your mind.

“You were five. And if I remember correctly a certain boy had been the one to pick the flower for you,” you understood then, she was talking about Steve. Part of you felt betrayed, like your mother was providing aid for the enemy, but the other part of you wanted to know more, why she wanted to talk about this, especially now. “We always assumed the two of you would be friends, lovers even,” she wagged her eyebrows at you and the corners of your lips ticked up at the gesture. “So it was strange to see the distance that grew between you, the pain you caused each other. I’d always hoped you’d resolve your differences, and fall back into the same ease you had as kids, but I know it’s more complicated than that,” her hand reached up, brushing softly against your cheek. You hadn’t realized that you were crying until her fingers swiped over the fallen tears. “I love you, my Baby,” her words were a whisper, gentle lips pressed to your forehead. She patted your leg through your comforter, standing up as she did. On her way to the door, she stopped, turning back to look at you. “Maybe some fresh air might help. A trip to the store?” she suggested and for some reason you nodded, actually thinking that it would be nice to leave your bed for a bit. She smiled, making her way out of your room to grab the grocery list for you. As she rounded the corner, one foot out the door, she couldn’t help but notice the tight grip you kept on the bookmark in your hand. The flower within it that was always in bloom. Something that could never die.

You opted to go to the store alone, wanting to drive with the windows down and the music up, drowning out the overcrowded space in your head. It was nice to leave the house, to be in an open space with autumn in the air. The crisp leaves crunched under your tires as you pulled into the grocery parking lot. You were so concerned about making sure that you had the list your mom gave you that you completely missed the maroon BMW parked on the opposite end of the lot. Once you had the list, you grabbed a cart, its wheels squeaking loudly as you made your way down aisles, grabbing item after item off the shelves.

There was only one thing left on your list, a bag of tortilla chips, which was your dad’s favorite snack food for some odd reason. You almost chuckled to yourself seeing how his scratchy handwriting interrupted your mom’s pristine list. With a squeal of protest from the shopping cart’s wheels, you turned the corner, eyes roaming over the chip options in front of you. You finally found what you were looking for and stood up on your tiptoes, the top shelf being just a bit too high for you to reach. A warmth washed over you as someone leaned into your space, large hands retrieving the bag and offering it to you. Your breath stopped for a moment and you found yourself unable to move.

“I’m just gonna put these in here then,” Steve spoke softly, placing the chip bag into your cart when you froze. He looked tired, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was flat, almost greasy looking, lacking his usual abundance of hairspray and product. Steve watched you, the way you shrunk at the sight of him and he felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest. He never wanted to hurt you, to make you feel less than what you were. And to Steve, you were everything. Steve opened his mouth to speak, an apology sputtering from his lips, but the sight snapped you out of your stupor, suddenly springing to action.

“I told you to stop apologizing to me,” your voice was firm and cold, nothing like the ease it held back at Family Video the last time he tried to right his wrongs. 

“Just let me explain, please,” he pleaded, eyes soft, a glimmer of familiarity in them. For a moment you almost let him, finding yourself more than willing to listen to the boy speak. You were reminded of the comfort you found in the sound of his voice recently, the swell it brought to your chest. But that vanished when you remembered the way he laughed when talking to Allen, his vile words leaving your glass heart shattered across the record store’s stained carpet. It felt like a slap to the face, a cut on your cheek, a crack in your rib. You meant what you said, you were done with him. The boy before you showed no growth. He was still the same boy who called you names, taunted you in the halls, stole your favorite book, and scared off the boys you liked. 

“No,” it was stony and resolute, an end to the conversation. You pushed your cart away, leaving Steve behind, your shadow cascading over him as you did. You made your way to the register and Steve followed close behind. He got in line behind you, but he stayed quiet, unsure what to say. He only had two things in his basket, which made his checkout go by quickly. By the time he got out to the parking lot, you were still there, placing the hefty grocery bags into your trunk.

“Let me make it up to you,” Steve startled you, appearing at your side out of nowhere. “I swear I've changed, I promise. I care about you, so much,” you slammed your trunk closed, wheeling your cart back to where it belonged. Steve followed you, but you stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge his pleas. He stood in front of your car door then, blocking it so you couldn’t get in. “I don’t want to lose you again. Let me show you I care. Let me prove it,” he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Part of you wanted to reach out and hold his face in your hands. The other part wanted to hurt him more, make him feel what you felt. The latter won. 

“You can’t prove shit to me, Harrington. I don’t believe it, any of it. You’re still the same stupid boy you were when we were 11, and I fucking hate you for it,” you spat and Steve’s face hardened. You wanted him to yell back at you, to prove that he felt something for you, something worth fighting for. But he didn’t. He simply stepped aside, a new slump in his posture as he let you go. His gaze followed the battered silhouette of your car as it drove off, a wisp of fallen leaves and Steve’s shredded heart trailing behind it.

When you got home you stormed inside, leaving the groceries in the car for your parents to unload. You fell back into your bed, resuming the same position you held before you went to the grocery store. It took some time, anger encapsulating your every fiber, but eventually, you fell asleep, putting the situation with Steve aside as you escaped to the peace of your dreams. 

You awoke the next morning, groggy and sore. Rolling onto your back, you caught a glimpse of something from the corner of your eye, something that was out of place. Your body groaned as you arose, hesitant steps towards your desk, hands slowly lifting the object. It was a book, but not just any book. It was Pride and Prejudice, the copy that your grandmother gave you years ago, the one that was taken from you. You flipped through the pages, fingers tracing the words you’d penciled in on the margins. Stuck between its pages was a bookmark, your bookmark, with lavender and specks of glitter decorating it. 

You sat back on your bed, wondering why the book was returned so suddenly and out of the blue. Your mom was the one to put it in your room, marking its pages with the bookmark, but Steve had been the one to take it years ago. Why did he keep it? Why give it back now? Was this the end? A bookend in your tumultuous relationship with the boy next door? A post-it note fell from between the book’s pages and you leaned down to grab it. Written in Steve’s messy scrawl was one word. 

“Please.”

And you’d come back to me

           The note was metaphorically stuck in your head, lingering like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake from. It didn’t help that it was physically stuck to your nightstand, its fluorescent green shade haunting you with each passing glance. But you just couldn’t will yourself to throw it away. It was a life preserver tossed to you after falling overboard, a worm on a hook meant to reel you in, a last attempt to fix what had been broken, to reconcile with Steve. You meant it when you said you were done, but the ache inside you longed to be quelled. And there was only one person that could do that. The least you could do was hear him out. Find closure, nothing more, or so you told yourself. 

A few days had passed since your encounter at the grocery store and you finally felt brave enough to face Steve again. You knew he was home given that his car had scarcely left the driveway in the past few days. Your legs felt wobbly, knees knocking as you marched in the dark through your lawn, crossing over onto the Harrington’s property. It was late, but you knew he’d still be awake, just as plagued with his thoughts as you were. You jabbed the doorbell with your finger, waiting nervously for the door to open, to see the boy that plagued your thoughts. But it didn’t. So you rang it again, and again, and again. Repeatedly pressing the button until the door finally cracked open.

“I don’t want whatever you’re selling, man,” Steve began but stopped when he saw you, straightening his slumped shoulders. He looked worse than he had at the grocery store like he hadn’t slept in days. He let the door hang open as he gaped at you, unable to form words. You took advantage of the open space, slipping inside his house before he could stop you. Steve shut the door, turning to see what you were doing, but you’d already made your way upstairs to his room. 

His room was pretty much the same as it had been the last time you were there, back when the world almost ended. Clothes strewn across the floor, trophies lining small shelves, movie posters galore. You noticed a new poster though, one for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Steve finally caught up to you, his perpetual gloominess temporarily taken over by confusion as to why you were suddenly here in his house. You sat on the edge of his bed and he followed suit, worry filling his entire being. Was this the end? Did you come to say goodbye? Steve’s heart beat rapidly in his chest, panic rising in his throat when you finally spoke.

“You said you wanted to explain, so explain,” your voice was soft and quiet, a tone completely unlike the one you used when you were mad. Steve was baffled, wanting to know what made you decide to hear him out, but he knew better than to waste what very well could be his last chance with you.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the record store. I didn’t mean any of it. I wanted to beat the shit out of Allen when he said that stuff,” Steve’s hands shook as he spoke, watching your face for any sign of emotion. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wished he could read your mind. But he couldn’t, so he continued. “It’s like every time I’m around someone from high school, I get pushed aside and someone else takes control of what I say. Someone that reminds me a lot of my father,” angry tears welled in Steve’s eyes. He hated that after all these years his dad still had such an impact on him and the way he acted.

“Steve,” you spoke up, still emotionless in your tone. But Steve stopped you, wanting to continue, practically begging you with his glassy eyes to let him. So you did.

“I know it's not an excuse, and it's so so shitty of me. But he’s just there in the back of my head reminding me that Harrington’s are winners,” a tear dripped down his cheek and it took a great deal of restraint from you to not reach out and brush it away. “I hate that I let him win. I hate that I ever betrayed your trust, that I was so mean to you in school, that I let you out of my life. I hate that I let Allen get away with what he said, that I agreed with him instead, because I don’t. I think you’re beyond perfect the way you are. I don’t want to change anything about you,” Steve stopped for a moment unsure if you’d let him continue. Little did he know that your breath had caught in your chest and extinguished any words that might have spilled from your lips.

“I never ever want to hurt you again,” Steve continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise, I won’t. I want to be better, I want to be the boy you trusted when we were kids. I care about you so unbelievably much. I never stopped, not once. Please let me prove it,” he’d moved closer to you and you let him, trying your best to keep your feelings hidden from your expression. You were close to breaking, to giving in, to letting yourself be unequivocally in love with Steve Harrington. But you still had to put up a fight, to prove it was the right choice, not just a never-ending loop of pain.

“I’ve given you so many chances, Steve. How do I know this one would be any different?” you couldn’t look at him, knowing you’d lose all your resolve if you did. So your eyes fell to your lap instead. Steve watched your avoidant gaze, wanting more than anything for you to face him.

“Because I love you,” it was firm and unwavering, a declaration spilled from Steve’s cracked lips. It snapped your attention to him immediately, granting Steve his previous wish. “I always have, even when we were kids. I got confused when popularity came into play, but it was still there, in the back of my mind. I didn’t know what it was then, but I do now, and I’ll do anything for you, anything to keep you with me,” Steve grew shy, still unable to tell how you feel. “I want you in any way that you’ll have me. Anything is fine with me as long as I have you back in my life. I just can’t lose you,” Steve finished, leaving his words in the air for you to respond. You took your time to collect your own thoughts, to steady the thump of your heart in your chest.

“Steve,” it was soft, gentle, longing, matching the tone Steve hoped to hear. “I don’t want to lose you either,” the words halted Steve’s heart in his chest. He hoped this was it, that you loved him the way he loved you. “I want to trust you again, but you have to earn it. We can't just keep hurting each other,” you asserted and Steve nodded wildly. You wanted to laugh at the way his hair flopped around on his head as he did it, but you refrained, simply letting a smile crest your lips instead. Steve’s lips matched yours, curling at the edges, and soon you found yourselves incapable of holding back the soft chuckles that rose in your throat.

Steve’s eyes never left you, admiring the smile he’d so dearly missed seeing. He only ever wanted for you to be happy, only wanted you to know you’re loved. And from here on out, he’d make sure that you were. You leaned forward resting your forehead against Steve’s, one last ditch attempt at your silly determination to communicate telepathically. It never worked with Eddie, so why not try it with Steve, the boy you loved since you were five. It would ease the tension, tell Steve what your lips were too scared to say.

“What am I thinking?” you asked, hands coming up to hold Steve’s shoulders in place. His hands wrapped around you, resting on your waist, feeling your scarred skin through the thin material of your shirt. Steve scoured his mind, focusing on you, the soft reflection of light in your eyes, the way your lips were dry and cracked, the curve of your cheekbones. You were more than beautiful to him, you were angelic, bewitching, radiant. You were everything he ever wanted and needed.

“That you like me too?” Steve put on his smug charm, trying to cover up his nervousness. It made you want to laugh, to kiss him, to tell him the truth.

“So close, Stevie. I was thinking more along the lines of love, but if that’s what you’re getting then, sure, we can go with that,” you shrugged jovially, a smile stretched across your cheeks as Steve’s jaw went slack. His eyes watched you for any sign of doubt, of mockery, but he couldn’t find any. He knew it then, you loved him too. Steve found your gaze, eyes whispering to him in their own secret language. Kiss me, they said, and who was he to deny them of their wish? Steve pulled you in, grip tightening on your waist as he did. Your chest was suddenly flush with his, your body now resting in his lap, lips only a breath away from meeting. It was a last chance to bow out, to give it up for good, but you didn’t want to. You tilted your chin, finally closing the gap and brushing your lips against Steve’s. The kiss was encompassed by every flower he’d ever picked for you, every peek behind closed curtains, every taunt and tease and fight, every innuendo, every unseen longing gaze, every utterance of the name Baby, all wrapped together. It felt like winning a game of hide-and-seek that had been called off after an hour of unsuccessful searching, a ring of smoke clinging to the air and lingering high only to be dissipated by the summer breeze, a ceasefire on the battlefield for a war that had gone on too long. It felt like Steve, and you couldn’t get enough of it. His lips danced with yours, never wanting to feel anything but the crush of you against him. But eventually, you ran out of air, pulling back enough to breathe, still keeping your forehead pressed to his.

“I think I knew you loved me because I always loved you too,” Steve’s words were breathy, softened with the heave of his chest. Your smile flashed through your heavy breaths and hot cheeks. Steve Harrington loved you, and you loved him too. It would take some getting used to, but you liked the sound of it. You couldn’t hold back any longer, leaning back in to reattach your lips to his. 

A moan mixed in with the kiss, grumbling up from Steve’s throat. His hands shifted down past your waist, landing on your ass with a light squeeze. You laughed at the gesture, keeping your lips pressed against his, and Steve’s heart melted at the sound. But he didn’t have long to linger on the feeling, because your hips rolled against his crotch, catching him off guard. Steve’s mouth opened a bit at the feeling, eliciting a groan from deep within him. You took advantage of the opportunity and slid your tongue against Steve’s. You did the move that you always did, a roll of your tongue against his, and Steve’s fingers dug deeper into your skin.

“Fuck, is that the tongue thing that Hargrove was talking about?” Steve asked, pulling away for just a second before attaching his lips to the column of your neck. 

“I don’t want to talk about Billy right now, okay?” you gasped as Steve’s teeth bit into the sensitive spot on your neck. You felt heat flush straight to your core and a whimper slipped from your lips. Steve was mesmerized, enthralled with the sweet sounds you made and the way your breaths picked up.

“Noted,” Steve spoke against your neck, sending vibrations down your spine. He worked his way back up to your lips, hand trailing under your shirt. You flinched when his hand brushed your scar, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. You always had to lie to your hookups about where the scars came from, but you didn’t need to with Steve. He knew you. He had matching wounds. Steve pulled away, worried about the way you shuddered when he came into contact with the healed skin. But you just lifted your arms above your head, signaling for Steve to remove your shirt. The soft fabric slid from your skin, leaving your chest exposed. You’d foregone a bra that morning, and given the entranced look on Steve’s face at the sight of your bare breasts, you were really glad that you did. His hands gravitated towards your chest, cupping it gently. Steve’s thumbs came to rest on your nipples, brushing back and forth over them, evoking a delicious moan from your lips.

His mouth found yours again, and you couldn’t help the way your hips began to grind against his, craving friction to satisfy the heat pooling between your legs. You removed Steve’s shirt then, and instead of resuming his previous position, Steve tilted his head down, attaching his lips to one of your nipples. You couldn’t help the pleasure that coursed through your veins, grinding harder against Steve’s lap. He was hard beneath his sweatpants, and his length caught against your clit with each movement, only further riling you up. Soft moans fell from both of your lips in harmony until Steve’s mouth departed from your chest, shifting to lay you down with his body hovering over you. His lips were swollen and red, wet with his saliva as he gazed down at you. He looked at you with a hunger that he’d suppressed for far too long as his hands trailed down your stomach, slowly pulling down the sweatpants that rested on your hips. You lifted your bum, making it easier for Steve to take them off. Once your pants were discarded on the floor, Steve’s face shifted down, hovering over your clothed cunt. 

“You don’t have to,” you spoke quietly, suddenly seeming shy and so drastically different from the girl who just rolled her tongue into Steve’s mouth.

“Trust me, Baby, I want to. I want to so fucking bad, have for a long time,” Steve’s eyes found yours, but he didn’t move from his spot between your thighs. His breath fanned over your skin, only adding more heat between your legs. He placed small kisses on your inner thighs and your back arched at the sensation. Steve truly had waited a long time to do this, thought about it late at night while his hand fisted his cock, so he was going to savor every second. His fingers dragged over your panties, drawing little stars over the material. You threw your head back, unable to contain yourself as a result of Steve’s teasing.

“Please Stevie, need you so bad,” you begged, breath coming out ragged and labored. Steve smirked up at you, finally hooking his fingers into the cotton material and yanking them off. He lowered himself further, breath now fanning over your exposed heat. Steve wasted no time, licking into your cunt, flexing his tongue with each flick back and forth through your wet folds. You gasped as he held down your thighs, holding them tightly around his head. His tongue was persistent, like a starved man eating for the first time in days. Steve’s hips rutted against the mattress, so turned on by the noises you made, the way you tasted, how you felt against his tongue. It got to a point where you could hardly keep still, squirming wildly beneath Steve’s steel grip, and he knew you were close.

His mouth came up to your clit, sucking it with enough force to make you whine out his name. He could come at just the sounds you made, but he held back, keeping his focus on your core and the shake that slowly began in your thighs. The coil that had been building in the pit of your stomach snapped, a wave of pleasure flooding through you. Steve lapped at your folds, capturing the last of your arousal on his tongue as you came down from your high, chest heaving and thighs quaking.

“Fuck, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve ran a hand through his hair, shifting up to place a kiss to your lips. You tasted yourself on him, a whimper escaping you in response. Without breaking the kiss, your hands came down, fumbling to rid Steve of his sweatpants, but he stopped you. 

“I wanna return the favor, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good too,” you spoke between kisses and Steve pulled away, hastily shaking his head. 

“You do that now and it’ll be all over. I’d rather come inside you, Baby,” Steve's eyes asked you for permission, wanting more than anything to be buried inside you. You understood what he meant and nodded eagerly, the idea reigniting the heat between your thighs. Steve got up quickly, pulling his pants from his legs. You repositioned yourself, now on your hands and knees, facing away from Steve. He kneeled on the bed behind you, one hand smoothing over the curve of your ass, gently finding its resting place on your waist. His lips placed a quick kiss to your spine as he took his length in his hand. He pumped himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in with a wrecked moan. Your walls stretched around him, squeezing his length as he bottomed out. You couldn’t help the faint pants that fell from your lips at the feel of being so full. 

“Fuck, Steve, so big,” you whined, arms weakly holding you in place. He chuckled behind you, trying to keep from blowing his load right then and there. You were so tight, your walls surrounding him perfectly. He slowly started to move, pulling his hips out gently and pushing himself back in. Steve was practically growling at the sensation of your walls clasped so close around him. As you both adjusted, Steve sped up, his hips bouncing quickly off the curve of your ass. It was hot and wet, hard and deep, the sound of skin slapping together filled the room. 

“Taking me so good, Baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds. Making ‘em just for me, right?” Steve’s breath was labored, trying hard to hold on as his fingers dug into your hips. You complied with Steve’s request, letting your stifled whimpers echo throughout the room. Steve pulled you up then, your back pressed to his front as your ass bounced off his thighs. He thrusted up into you and his hands came up to fondle your breasts. “Tell me you’re close, Baby. I can’t hold on much longer,” he muttered in your ear, ending his statement with another shaky groan. You nodded, the back of your head moving against his shoulder as you did. He quickened his pace then, using every last ounce of reserve that he had to pound into you, bodies pressing together. Your face scrunched in pleasure and Steve’s followed, both of you toeing the edge of blinding pleasure. 

“Fuck, Stevie. Love you so much,” you moaned through ragged breaths, hand coming behind his head in an attempt to pull his lips to yours. The words you spoke and the crash of your lips against his had Steve coming undone. His hot streams of cum coated the inside of your walls, triggering your own high, cries of Steve’s name muffled by the taste of his swollen lips. You sunk back down onto his lap as he finally ceased his movements, resting on the back of his heels, still buried deep within you. His eyes met your soft gaze and he couldn’t help the uptick of his lips. You loved him and that’s all that mattered to him now.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up, slowly redressing to various degrees. Steve pulled on the boxers that were lost in his sweatpants while you draped your oversized shirt back over your frame. You gave up on trying to find your panties, accepting that they were now lost in the mess of Steve’s cluttered bedroom floor. You fell back into bed with Steve, rolling on your side to face him, the bed sheets draped over you. Steve’s legs brushed against yours, slowly intertwining until one of your legs rested between both of his. You caught sight of a cherry stem resting on his nightstand, one that had been tied in a knot, and held back your teasing remarks about him keeping it. Steve studied you, wanting to memorize this moment, each feature of your face. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up to the sight of your soft, pleasant smile as you watched over him in the same way he did to you. Eventually, Steve’s lids grew heavy, fluttering closed as he drifted off to sleep, you not far behind.

When you woke in the morning, you were still tangled together, radiating heat off one another to fill the otherwise cold morning air. You nestled your head into Steve’s bare chest, a soft groan slipping from him as he awoke. Neither of you wanted to get up, face the morning, and separate after a night together. The only reason you eventually did get up was because Steve had to go to work and you were sure your parents would notice your absence soon.

You went downstairs before him, waiting for him to find his car keys in the mess of his room. You shared a kiss on his doorstep, fingers tangling in Steve’s hair as he pulled your hips flush with his. A whine escaped you as he pulled away, leaning down to pluck a daisy from his mom’s well-manicured front garden. Steve tucked the daisy behind your ear, placing one last kiss to your lips before walking over to his car. He opened his car door, stopping for another glimpse of you before he left. You smiled at him, waving him off and watching as he backed out of the driveway. He blew you a kiss before putting the car in drive and pulling away. You held the kiss close to your heart, the heart that now belonged to him, and headed back across his lawn to your own house.

The smell of coffee wafted through the air as you shut the front door behind you. Your parents sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper between them and a cup of coffee each. You drifted into the kitchen, ignoring their questioning looks, and plugged the phone back into the wall. Your parents shared a silent look, a look of relief that the storm was over, that normalcy would soon resume. 

You went upstairs then, entering your bedroom and pulling back the curtains that encompassed your window. You planned to leave a note for Steve stuck to the glass, the same way you used to when you were kids, one for him to find when he got back home from work. But when your eyes drifted to the window across from yours, you were met with confusion.

In place of the army of green men that once sat on the window sill was a pencil with a half sheet of white paper attached to it. A white flag. Steve surrendered, and the war was over. You smiled at the gesture before crafting your own flag to mirror the one across from you. It would be a truce then, breaking even and giving up the fight. The ache in your chest was quelled and replaced by an unfathomable warmth. There were no winners or losers anymore. There was just you and Steve, two lovers that took way too long to figure it out. 

You would call Eddie and Robin later to explain the previous night’s events, but for now, you sat back on your bed, Pride and Prejudice clasped in your hands. You opened the cover, eyes landing on the bookmark between its pages, mind drifting off to the boy that picked you flowers and told you he loved you so long ago. Maybe you knew him all along. Maybe he wasn’t so different after all.

You put me on and said I was your favorite

The summer sun beat down on Steve’s tanned skin, sweat dripping from his brow, making a trail down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, wishing to escape Hawkins’ summer heat. With a deep breath, Steve leaned down to grab the box at his feet, hoisting it up to hand to you. You stood in the back of a U-Haul, organizing the boxes that were handed to you. Your very sweaty boyfriend flashed you a smile before turning to go back into his house and grab more boxes.

“You guys couldn’t have picked a hotter day to move,” Eddie appeared in front of you, unruly curls stuck to his forehead and neck. You’d offered him a hair tie earlier, but he declined, now stuck suffering in the humid air. His arms were strained with the weight of the box he was carrying, clearly struggling more than Steve had been.

“Sorry, Eds. We can’t control the weather,” you took the box that he had brought out, placing it somewhere behind you in the truck. You brushed away the sweat that had formed above your lip and watched as Eddie shook his head.

“I can’t believe you guys are actually leaving,” a sad smile stretched his lips as he spoke. He knew that it would happen eventually, that you would leave behind this horror story of a town and start anew. You’d suffered more Upside Down related trauma than he had, and he knew the fears that still crept into your mind from time to time. It was a good change, even if it meant leaving the people you loved behind.

“Me too, honestly,” you looked up then, head snapping towards the sound of voices arguing in the distance. Steve and Dustin were on Steve’s front porch loudly talking back and forth about how to move Steve’s dresser from his room. Robin stood next to them, rolling her eyes and dragging Max towards your house to grab the last of your book collection. “I’m glad it's with him though,” you nodded your head towards Steve, who was still deep in his discussion with Dustin, wild hand gestures and all. Steve caught you gazing at him from the corner of his eye, shooting you a look that said ‘this kid is crazy’ before disappearing into the house, Dustin hot on his trail. 

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are in love or whatever. We get it,” Mike appeared at Eddie’s side, his slim arms struggling to carry his box. You raised a brow at him, lifting the box from his arms with ease and he faced you with an unamused glare. 

“I think it's sweet,” Will approached behind him, also unloading a box into your arms. He smiled at you sweetly, and suddenly it hit you how much you were going to miss all of them. The bickering and the fights, the tight hugs and reassurances that they would call to let you know they got home safe. The late nights spent overanalyzing every detail of some cheesy movie that you’d forget the plot of by the morning. And in the background of it all was Steve. His forlorn gaze as Nancy walked you down her driveway to your car. His open curtains waiting for your lights to flicker on when you got back from work. His grand gestures as he put himself in harm's way, trying to protect you. You pretended to hate each other, but now you know that you never really did. 

The afternoon dragged on, the heat weighing heavy on everyone as boxes and furniture were piled into the truck. Eventually, you all finished and everything you owned was packed away. Steve grabbed a quick shower, rinsing the sweat from his body to make the long car ride more comfortable. You hugged your parents goodbye, urging them to come visit once everything was unpacked. The others still lingered, waiting to watch as you and Steve drove away. Tears filled their eyes and streamed down sweaty cheeks as you hugged each of the younger kids, promising to return for Thanksgiving. 

Steve began his round of goodbyes, mainly opting for a secret handshake or a ruffling of hair. Robin squeezed you so tightly that you thought she might crack one of your ribs. She sniffled as she pulled away, moving on to give Steve the same crushing embrace. Eddie stood before you, his head tilted towards the ground. You brushed his hair back from his face, catching sight of his tear-stained cheeks. He pulled you close, arms encompassing your frame. 

“You’ll call every week?” he spoke into your hair, burying his face in it to hide his swell of tears. You nodded against him, your own muffled cries slipping from your lips. He pulled back then, and Steve was right behind you.

Steve placed his hand on your back, guiding you to the front seat of the U-Haul. He said his goodbye to Eddie before joining you. Steve’s car was hooked up to the back of the truck and your parents planned to bring yours up with them when they came to visit.

You stood on the ledge of the truck admiring the sea of your friends that stood before you. They watched you with tearful eyes as you shot them one last watery smile and slid into your seat. Your gaze was pulled towards the side of your house, your bedroom window that sat across from Steve’s. It was funny to think how close he always was, even when he felt miles away. Steve’s hand brushed yours then, the tingle of skin pulling you from your thoughts.

“Ready to go, Baby?” Steve asked, reaching down to put the truck in gear. His hair was still wet, smelling of his lavender-scented shampoo. You ran your hands through it, brushing the loose strands to the side. Steve caught your hand, placing a small kiss on your palm before you could pull away. 

Sixth grade Steve was right, you were leaving with your things packed into boxes and a new city calling your name. But not because you were the worm girl that was running away. It wasn’t because this town had terrorized and taunted you to the point of no return. You were leaving because you wanted to, not because you felt forced out. And sixth grade Steve was wrong about you finding the love of your life once you left too, because you’d already found him, and for that Steve couldn’t be happier.

“With you?” you questioned, eyebrows raised, hand still encompassed by Steve’s. He nodded, showing you that smile that he reserved just for you. The same one he gave you as you sat on the sidewalk with dried worms newly relocated to the surrounding grass. You mirrored his look, gazing into his hazel eyes with all the love and adoration you had acquired for him over the years. “Always.”

[fullsunstrawberry]

SCREAM FOR ME

synopsis: Jisung orders a Ghostface costume after hearing you confess how hot masks are on guys.

pairings: Jisung x reader

warnings: SMUT, a little bit of CNC, Blind fold, Use of a knife, mention of handcuffs (not used), cream pie, cunnilingus, chocking, no condom mentioned, grinding, grinding on jeno/jaemin, drinking, swearing, and probably more lol

word count: 5.3k

a/n: happy halloween <3

You and your friends have always looked forward to Halloween. It was the one time of year when you could dress up and let loose. This year, you were especially excited. Drunkenly admitting why you were excited for Halloween this year to one of your friends, Jaemin, seemed like a fun time in your tipsy brain.

“I’m telling you, Jaemin,” you said, swaying slightly in your seat, “it’s not about who wears the mask. I just want someone in a Ghostface mask. I don’t even care who it is. I’d find it so hot.”

Jaemin laughed, leaning back in his chair. “What’s wrong with you but I get it, masks are hot!”

Secretly, Jisung, who had been quietly observing from a corner of the room, had heard every word. His heart skipped a beat. Jisung, being shy, had always admired you from afar. He knew you were older and had never seen him as anything more than a younger friend. But hearing your wish sparked something in him.

But he was too shy to execute it, right? Maybe he’ll just order the costume just in case…

“A cheerleader, huh? How original, Y/n,” Renjun teased, rolling his eyes.

Haechan nudged Renjun with a grin. “Come on, she looks hawt! You’re the one dressed as a children's book.”

“Moomin’s cool,” Renjun mumbled defensively.

“Cool? You’re just wearing a white shirt and ears!” Haechan retorted.

You laughed at their playful banter and glanced around to see what the others were up to. Jeno, sporting dog ears and a collar, was carefully draping fake spider webs around the room. Bunny eared Jaemin and basketball player Chenle were setting out snacks, and Jaemin kept stealing glances at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“What’s so funny?” you demanded, marching over to the table and pointing at Jaemin.

Jaemin raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just admiring your costume, that’s all.”

“Sure, and what’s the real reason?”

Jaemin chuckled, “You’re really putting in some effort to get laid tonight.”

A mischievous smirk appeared on your face as you twirled around. “Am I giving off the perfect victim vibe?”

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Chenle yelled, his eyes wide in disbelief.

The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at you and Jaemin. Jaemin’s laughter erupted uncontrollably, while you shushed Chenle with a grin.

“What’s happening?” Spider-Man Mark asked as the rest of the group gathered in the dining room.

“Y/n’s on the hunt for someone in a Ghostface costume,” Jaemin explained between laughs.

“DAMN IT, I should’ve worn a Ghostface costume!” Haechan said huffing at his cowboy outfit, only to wince as Renjun playfully punched his shoulder.

“Stop talking about my love life!” you huffed. “But if any tall, attractive Ghostfaces show up, send them my way!”

The guys laughed and shook their heads before returning to their tasks.

“Oh, where’s Jisung?” you asked Chenle, noticing his absence.

“He’s running late. Said he’d be here later,” Chenle replied.

Jaemin smirked, “Probably just trying to avoid setting up,” he joked.

You chuckled, shaking your head before turning back to finish arranging the party.

The house quickly became alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and the buzz of conversation. People in all sorts of costumes filed in: animals, witches, superheroes, and a lot more. But no Ghostface in sight …

You moved through the crowd, catching up with friends and admiring their costumes. As the party gained momentum, you started to let loose, dancing and laughing with Jaemin and Haechan.

Every so often, though, your thoughts drifted back to your earlier conversation. Your friends had laughed it off, but a tiny part of you wondered if a Ghostface would actually appear tonight. You shook your head at the silliness of it all and got back to enjoying the party.

“Y/n, come take a shot with me!” Haechan called, dragging you over to the kitchen.

Smiling, you clink your glass against his and downed the shot, feeling the warmth spread through you.

Just as you placed your glass down, the door creaked open, and a tall figure stepped inside. The partygoers around you barely noticed, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the white mask. Ghostface.

You couldn’t help but smirk, nudging Jaemin who stood beside you.

“Look,” you whispered.

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, glancing at the new arrival.

“Who is that?”

“No clue,” you admitted, heart racing a little. “But they’re definitely hot as hell.”

The figure remained near the doorway for a moment, scanning the room with eerie calm. Then, slowly, the Ghostface started making his way through the crowd, but his gaze—hidden behind the mask—was locked on you.

Each step he took felt planned, like he was taking his time to make his approach. Your stomach twisted, was he really making his way over to you?

“He’s coming over here,” Jaemin muttered, clearly amused.

“Looks like your wish is coming true.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, though you couldn’t hide the shy smile on your face.

The Ghostface finally reached you, standing just a foot away. The mask tilted slightly, as if studying you. You crossed your arms, trying to appear unfazed, though you could feel your pulse quickening.

“Nice costume,” you said, breaking the tension. “Going for the silent type?”

The figure didn’t respond, only tilting their head again in that unnerving, playful way. Then, without a word, they extended a gloved hand toward you.

You glanced at Jaemin, who shrugged, clearly entertained by whatever was happening. With a deep breath, you accepted the hand.

The Ghostface pulled you closer, and you found yourself standing just inches away, your heart racing faster than you cared to admit.

Whoever was behind the mask leaned in slightly, their movements slow. You couldn’t see their face, but you could feel the intensity in their gaze.

“Okay, I have to admit,” you said softly, trying to maintain some control over the situation, “this is kinda hot.”

The Ghostface’s shoulders shook slightly, as if laughing silently, and then, without warning, they twirled you away, leaving you standing there, stunned and a little breathless.

As they disappeared back into the crowd, you turned to Jaemin, who was grinning ear to ear.

“I told you,” he said smugly, “tonight’s gonna be fun for you.”

You laughed, though your mind was still reeling from the encounter. Who was under that mask? And why are you already so hot and bothered.

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but scan the crowd, looking for any sign of the mysterious Ghostface.

The interaction had been brief but left a strange, exciting feeling buzzing under your skin. You found yourself drawn into conversations, but your mind kept drifting back to that masked figure.

At some point, Jaemin nudged you again. “You okay, missing your killer?”

You shrugged, trying to act casual. “I haven’t seen him since.”

“It’s weird seeing you this horny over some guy in a mask” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Rolling your eyes, you playfully shoved him away. “Stop. You’re making this weirder than it has to be.”

But in truth, Jaemin wasn’t wrong. You couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever was behind that mask knew exactly what they were doing, playing into your earlier confession. It was kind of scary— but you were enjoying it way too much.

As you made your way toward the back of the house, needing a breather, you passed by Renjun and Chenle, who were deep in conversation about some horror movie.

The sliding glass door leading to the backyard was slightly open, and you stepped outside, welcoming the cool night air. The distant hum of the party continued inside, but out here, everything was quieter.

You leaned against the porch railing, staring at the dark sky, when you heard soft footsteps behind you. A glance over your shoulder revealed the masked man, standing at the edge of the patio, just watching.

“Seriously?” you muttered, though there was no real irritation in your tone. If anything, it was curiosity.

The Ghostface took a few more steps toward you, closing the gap, but still maintaining that frightening silence. The party noise from inside seemed to fade as you locked eyes—or rather, your gaze locked on the mask.

The figure took off their gloves slowly, stuffing them into their back pocket, and for a split second, you wondered if they would finally reveal themselves.

“Okay,” you said, turning to fully face them. “You’ve got my attention. What now?”

Without a word, Ghostface reached out and, gently but firmly, took your hand. This time, there was no hesitation. You let them pull you closer, so close that you could hear the faintest sound of their breath behind the mask. Your heart pounded in your chest.

In the dim light of the backyard, it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. The Ghostface raised their free hand slowly, brushing a lock of hair from your face with surprising tenderness.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, they lifted their mask just enough for you to catch a glimpse of their lips, and your breath caught in your throat.

Whoever it was—they were about to kiss you. Time seemed to freeze in that moment, your mind racing with the mystery and excitement of it all.

But then, just as you thought they would make their move, the sliding door burst open with a loud thud.

“Y/n!” Haechan yelled from inside, half-drunk and waving a beer bottle. “Come on! We’re about to do shots!”

You blinked, the heat of the moment shattering as you turned toward the noise. When you glanced back, Ghostface had already lowered their mask and started backing away, disappearing into the shadows of the yard.

You stood there for a moment, dazed. Wondering if you would ever see him again.

Haechan stumbled out onto the porch, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“What are you doing out here? Come back in! The party’s not over yet!”

“You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you muttered, glancing over your shoulder one last time. But the yard was empty, The mystery Ghostface was gone.

“It’s party time!!” Haechan was too drunk to even understand your words.

Back inside, your friends gathered around the kitchen island, laughter echoing through the house. Jaemin raised an eyebrow when he saw you return.

“No Ghostface this time?”

You shook your head, pretending like you didn’t care.

“Looks like he got bored.”

“Wait, there’s really a Ghostface here?” Jeno teased, nudging you playfully.

You nodded, sighing. “Yeah, but he’s been stringing me along this whole time.”

Jaemin smirked. “Why not make him a little jealous, then?”

“I doubt that’ll even work,” you said, shaking your head. “I never actually see him around the party.”

“Trust us,” Jeno grinned, grabbing your hand. “We’ve got this.”

Without another word, he pulled you into the

crowded living room, playful determination in his eyes.

Jeno tugged you into the living room, where the music was louder, and party goers crowded the space. Jaemin followed closely behind, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Alright, Y/n,” Jeno said, spinning you around to face him.

“Let’s make sure Ghostface knows what he’s missing.”

Jaemin smirked and nodded toward the group of people dancing. “Just go with it. If he’s been watching you like you said, this’ll make him show up.”

You shot them both a skeptical look, but before you could protest, Jaemin slipped his hand onto your waist, and Jeno grinned before pulling you into him. The three of you swayed to the beat, your friends fully committed to playing along, their movements exaggerated as if trying to draw all the attention in the room.

Jaemin leaned in, his voice low near your ear. “You said you wanted the perfect victim vibe, right? Let’s give him something to chase.”

You laughed, shaking your head at how over-the-top they were being. But as the song picked up, you let yourself get swept up in their antics, moving with them and enjoying it. Jeno twirled you once before pulling you close. Jaemin pulled and spun you back toward him, his hand lingering a bit longer on your waist.

Suddenly, you felt that familiar tingle of being watched. You scanned the crowd but couldn’t immediately spot the Ghostface. However, the weight of someone’s gaze followed your every move.

Jeno noticed your eyes darting around. “He’s watching, isn’t he?” he murmured, leaning close.

You nodded subtly. “Yeah, I can feel it.”

“Good,” Jaemin whispered, tightening his grip on your waist. “Let’s keep it going.”

The three of you kept dancing, playing up the flirtatious act just enough to make it obvious that something was happening. Your heart raced—not just from the dancing, but from the excitement of what might happen.

Would the masked man reveal himself, or was he just going to keep watching from the shadows?

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw it: the white mask, half-hidden behind a group of people near the far wall.

He was there, standing perfectly still, his attention fixed on you. Your pulse quickened as your eyes connected through his mask.

Jaemin followed your gaze and smirked. “There he is.”

Jeno didn’t waste a second. “Alright, let’s give him something to really think about.”

He pulled you even closer, his hand sliding around your waist as he pulled you into him. Grinding into you as he placed small kisses on your neck.

As you look back to the far wall, you caught another glimpse of Ghostface—this time, he was shaking his head.

You felt a pang of something—disappointment, maybe—twist in your stomach as the Ghostface broke eye contact and turned away, disappearing down the hall toward the spare bedrooms.

Jeno’s playful touch felt distant now, your attention completely drawn to the masked figure who had just walked away.

Jaemin, noticing the shift in your expression, leaned closer. “Looks like he doesn’t want to have any fun tonight.”

You stepped back slightly, disentangling yourself from Jeno’s hold. “I’m going to get a drink,” you muttered, your voice clearly showing how disappointed you were.

Jeno raised an eyebrow, “Hey don’t think about him anymore, just let loose and have fun.”

With one last glance at your friends, you made your way through the crowd, slipping past dancing bodies and the noise of the party. The music and laughter grew muffled as you moved down the hall, the atmosphere growing quieter, more intimate. The spare bedrooms were tucked away at the end of the corridor.

Your heart raced as you reached the first door. It was slightly ajar, and you hesitated for a moment before pushing it open. The room was dimly lit, the shadows stretching across the walls, but there was no sign of the masked man.

You stepped further inside, your breath catching as you scanned the room. Just as you were about to turn back, the door clicked softly shut behind you.

You spun around, and there he was—Ghostface, standing in the doorway, silent.

“You left,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Why?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. The air between you was filled with tension, and you felt the weight of his gaze behind the mask.

Your heart raced, “Are you really going to keep this act up the whole night?” you asked, tilting your head as you held his gaze, your voice steady despite the pounding in your chest.

Ghostface’s hand moved to his mask, and for a split second, you thought he might finally reveal himself. But instead, he paused, his fingers trailing over the edge of the mask before letting his hand fall back to his side. He took another step forward, closing the distance between you, his body inches from yours now.

You swallowed, “Say something,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Instead of using his words, he grabbed your hips and pushed himself onto you. You could feel his erection pressing against you.

You gasped slightly, caught off guard by his sudden movement. Your heart raced, and you felt a mix of surprise and heat as you tried to process everything.

His grip on your hips tightened, and he moved against you, his masked face hidden in your neck. You could feel his chest rising and falling quickly.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to react. Then, slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the soft fabric of his mask. A small part of you wanted to uncover his identity, but another part of you was okay with the mystery.

As you pressed yourself against him, he groaned softly, his voice deep as his gloves fingers dug into your skin.

“Please, more” you breathed into his ear, your heart pounding in sync with his.

His grip on your hips tightened, and he moved against you more urgently now, his breathing becoming even faster.

As he continued to grind against you, your own urges started to take over. You couldn't help but get lost in the moment as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and edge.

“Pease,” you whispered again, your voice barely above a whisper as you softly grabbed onto his mask.

He shook his head firmly, gripping your hands as his eyes scanned the room. Spotting the dresser, he reached over, pulling out a pair of fluffy handcuffs, letting them dangle in front of your face.

“I’m not going to let you handcuff me…I don’t even know who you are!”

You protested, but there was a hint of teasing in your voice. He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

Turning around, back to the same dresser, he pulled out a long knife. Did he plan this?

Tension hung heavy in the air as he turned back to face you, the knife glinting in the dim light of the room. Your heart pounded frantically in your chest, fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you took a step back, your eyes fixed on the sharp blade in his hand.

“What are you doing?” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling with confusion. How did things change so quickly?

The masked figure remained silent, his masked face giving away nothing as he took slow, deliberate steps toward you. The gleam of the knife seemed to shine, sending a chill down your spine.

Instinct kicked in, and you turned to bolt for the door, but before you could take more than a few steps, he lunged forward with surprising speed. Grabbing at your waist and putting the knife near your neck.

You gasped, your eyes widening in terror as you felt the cold steel press against your skin.

As he pressed the knife to your skin, you realized that it wasn't sharp, it was dull.

You started to giggle, the absurdity of the situation hit you all at once, and the laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, filled the room

The masked figure’s grip loosened slightly as he seemed taken aback by your sudden laughter. His masked face tilted slightly, almost as if he was confused by your reaction.

“No, please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.”

The masked figure's shoulders shook with silent laughter, and slowly, he lowered the knife, his posture relaxing.

“Wait, did I ruin the moment?” The masked figure shook his head, brushing your hair with his gloved hand.

Slowly his hand rested on your cheek, and then slowly made its way to your neck. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the fear you had moments before. You stared into the eye holes of the mask, searching for any idea who he was.

Suddenly he put pressure on your neck, his touch firm but not suffocating. You froze, the lack of oxygen felt so good.

You gasped for air as his hand tightened around your neck.

His masked face hovered close to yours, his gaze only on you. The room seemed to shrink around you, the only sound echoing in your ears being the hammering of your heart.

Just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he released his grip on your neck, his hand falling away as he took a step back. You stumbled slightly, falling onto the bed.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you looked up at him. His gaze never left yours as he went back to the dresser and pulled out a blindfold.

With a mixture of hesitation and thrill, you allowed him to place the blindfold over your eyes, slipping you into darkness.

You heard shuffling and felt his gloves as he grabbed your hands that were searching for him. Pulling your hands to his mask, feeling how warm it felt.

You fiddled with the fabric of it, as a silent way of asking for permission to take it off. He doesn't do anything as you pull his mask off slowly.

Once finally off he takes you into a deep kiss, a kiss he’s been waiting for this whole night. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own.

His hands roamed your skin, tracing patterns of fire along your curves. As you were tracing his features with your fingers, trying to figure out what he could look like.

Lost in the heat of the kiss, you felt him pull away slightly, his breath mingling with yours. There was a softness in his touch now, unlike before.

As you leaned in for more, your lips seeking his once again, he chuckled softly against your mouth before pulling away completely.

You heard rustling in the distance, you try to pull the blindfold off your face to see what was happening.

But strong hands stopped you, holding the blindfold firmly in place. You felt a warm breath against your ear as he whispered,

“Not yet.”

The voice was deep, kind of familiar but you were too lost in the moment to really place it. The sound of footsteps echoed in the room, growing louder and more distinct.

You strained against the blindfold, trying to hear what was going on.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of lips press gently against your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a moan. You felt a shiver run down your spine as the lips trailed along your neck.

“Fuck, I need more, please!” you begged, your voice shaking.

You reach for him, expecting to feel the cloth of his costume, but instead you are met with his soft skin. He was lean and you could feel he had a bit of muscles.

"Are you ready for the next part?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

You gasped and nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for his next move.

His kisses started to trail down, his tounge gently tracing a path along your skin as he moved further down.

As he reached the sensitive skin just below your waist, you let out a soft whimper. His fingers traced delicate patterns across your skin.

Suddenly, you felt the warm sensation of his breath on your skin, followed by the gentle pressure of his lips. A soft breath escaped your lips as his tongue traced delicate patterns on your heat.

You were lost in the sensation, your mind hazy. You gripped at the sheets beneath you, your body arching to meet his every movement.

“More, please, need you.” you whispered, feeling the words catch in your throat.

He responded by cupping your heat with his hand. With one hand, he gently spread you open.

Your heart pounded in your chest as his fingers stroked you, driving you crazy. You felt him slip a finger inside you and then another, stretching you in the best possible way.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

Each touch sent another wave of pleasure crashing over you, building you up higher and higher.

"I’m so close," you begged, your words barely coherent as you clung to the sheets for dear life.

He responded by increasing his pace, his fingers pounding into you with a rhythm. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you, the sensation overwhelming. As the pleasure built and built, you couldn’t handle it anymore.

"I'm going to cum," you cried out, your voice shaky. "I'm gonna cum."

His fingers never stopped their relentless pace, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, baby.” His voice normal, no longer changing his voice.

You knew that voice.

Your heart skipped a beat as the realization dawned on you. "Jisung?" you gasped, the blindfold still firmly in place.

No response came from him as his fingers continued their pace, driving you higher and higher towards your release.

“Oh my god, Jisung!” You cried out as you finally reached your climax. Your body arched against his touch, you moans ringing through the room.

Panting and gasping for air, as you lay there, you let a smile spread across your face.

Your hand reaches up to grab the blindfold, already knowing who the mystery masked man is. But Jisung grabbed your hand, stopping you, again.

“Wait,” His voice filled with insecurity. Not knowing how you were going to react to seeing his face.

You can feel the warmth of his skin under your touch and you can tell that he's tense.

“Jisung, I need to see you, please…” You pleaded, and for a brief moment, he seemed to hesitate. But then he quickly regained his composure, taking your hand and gently removing the blindfold from your eyes.

You squint for a moment as your eyes adjust to the dim room, taking in the sight of Jisung's maskless face. He looked at you, you could tell he was worried. He wasn’t making any eye contact.

You can't help but smile at the sight of him, still panting from your intense orgasm. You reach up to trace your fingers along his jawline.

"You look so hot right now," you whisper, your voice still heavy with lust. "Even hotter without the mask."

He chuckles softly at your comment, an appreciative smile spreading across his face. "I'm glad you think so," he says, his voice confident and husky.

You took a long look over his body, taking in every detail. His chest heaved with each breath, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. You traced your fingers down his chest, feeling the definition of his muscles.

Your eyes locked onto his again, a smile playing on your lips as you crawled towards him. He watched you intently, watching how your body moved towards him. .

As you straddled him, you leaned in close and whispered, "I want to feel you inside me."

He nodded eagerly, his hands immediately reaching up to undress you further. He helped you out of your clothes until you were both naked, skin touching skin.

You positioned yourself above him, feeling the warmth and hardness of him against your heat. You couldn't help but moan slightly as you felt him ready to enter you.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear as he waited for your response.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice breathless with desire.

"I'm ready."

With one swift movement, he entered you fully, filling you completely. You both moaned as he began to move, thrusting into you with a rhythm that made you shiver.

Your eyes locked onto his, making your heart race. You felt him hit a sensitive spot inside you, each thrust hitting the same spot.

"Oh god, Jisung," you gasped, your voice shaking with passion. "You feel so good."

He responded by increasing his pace, driving deeper and deeper into you. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he moved, each thrust sending another wave of pleasure. You could feel your core starting to tighten.

“You like that baby?”

"So good," you moaned.

His hands gripped at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly.

As you rose to meet his next thrust, he groaned softly, his eyes locked onto yours. He looked like he was in a zone, completely focused on pleasing you as much as he was being pleased himself.

"More," you begged, feeling pleasure building up inside of you. Your breath was ragged from how good he was making you feel.

Jisung responded by increasing his pace even more, his movements becoming more aggressive. Your body arched against him.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you close to him as he moved. You could feel every inch of him inside you, driving you closer and closer to your climax.

"I'm going to cum again," you cried out, your voice shaking with passion. "I'm gonna cum!"

“You feel so fucking good.” He groaned. His pace quickened, his movement became more desperate. He could feel his own climax building.

"Cum for me, baby," he groaned, his eyes locked onto yours. His words were the final push you needed, and you let out a long, loud moan as you reached your climax. Your body tensed, every muscle straining.

Jisung's movements became erratic as he felt you cumming around him, the pressure building up inside of him threatening to take him over the edge.

Finally, he could hold back no longer. "Fuck im going to cum," he groaned, thrusting into you one last time. His body tensed and then shuddered, his cum filling you completely.

Your body shuddered and your eyes fluttered shut. You clung to him as the intensity of your orgasm started to fade, you felt him soften inside you. His weight pressed against you, his breathing heavy and uneven.

You laid there, panting and gasping for air. Your body still trembling.

Jisung's arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close as he caught his breath. His breathing gradually slowed down, his heart rate returning to normal.

Slowly, your eyes opened, fluttering to look up at him. You smiled.

"That was... amazing," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jisung smiled back at you, a proud grin that made your heart flutter. “I’m glad I overheard your conversation with Jaemin.”

You giggled, "That’s how you knew I liked masks?"

He chuckled, his hands pulling you closer to him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like me.”

"But I do like you," you said, looking deeply into his eyes.

"A lot."

Jisung's smile widened, and he pulled you even closer, his lips brushing against your forehead.

You nestled closer to Jisung, feeling safe and secure in his embrace. His fingers gently traced patterns on your back as the two of you lay there in the afterglow.

He leaned in close, brushing his lips against yours lightly.

"I want to do this again... and again," he whispered.

"Me too," you responded, your voice filled with satisfaction.

You traced your fingers along the curve of his shoulder, as you relaxed into him.

The room was quiet except for the sound of both of your breathing, the steady heartbeats, and the music continuing on outside. Laying there for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes.

Finally, with a sigh of reluctance to end such a perfect moment, Jisung pulled away slightly.

“We should get cleaned up.”

You nodded in agreement, slowly disentangling yourself from each other's embrace. As you stood up, Jisung's hand reached out to help you steady yourself.

"Let’s take a shower," he said, offering you a hand to help you up.

As you reached the bathroom, Jisung started the water. You stood there, taking a moment to compose yourself before stepping inside. The warm water washed over you felt relaxing.

As you let the water drip down your skin, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. This was definitely the best Halloween.

Jisung joined you in the shower, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your neck gently. You leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace as the water fell down both of your bodies.

“What are we going to tell everyone?” you asked as Jisung rinsed your hair.

He chuckled, his hands moving gently through the water. "The truth, that you’re mine.”

interacted with preview: @jwiloves @yeosin16

Dream/General Taglist: @haechansbbg @lostinneocity @talkingsaxy @naqkja @haolovre

© 2024 fullsunstrawberry all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs and comments are appreciated a lot!

[babygorewhore]

I wanna make you mine

Spencer Reid x fem!Hotchner Reader

You move back home with your Dad, Aaron Hotchner after turbulent situations as a dancer at a local club. Before you can give a private dance, you see that the client is Spencer Reid. Who not only works for your dad, he also happens to be your college teacher.

W.C 3.1k

Warnings! Exotic dancer! Aesthetic and reader is Hotch’s daughter but skin color is never described in fic. Reader is diagnosed with BPD! Slight angst with her past! Age gap! Reader is 25 and Spencer is 35! Light fingering! Unprotected sex! Daddy kink! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx proofread once because I was sick as hell

The last thing you expected was to be unpacking your last suitcase in your childhood bedroom in your father’s house at nearly twenty six years old. You didn’t have much to bring, having to live on the run for several months years ago when you were a teenager.

You sigh and plop down on your small mattress, bare legs covered in glitter. Aaron Hotchner was your father. The head profiler of the BAU in the FBI and acclaimed in his successes but to you he was just…Dad. Jack was your little brother, someone you hadn’t seen for a few years. When you told him you were going to stay in the house with them, the little boy was ecstatic and crushed your torso in a hug with his kid arms.

“Settling in?” Your dad’s voice snapped you out of your trance and you gave him a tight smile. Hotch stood with his predisposed blank expression with his arms crossed.

“Yeah. I’m good. I’m about to leave for the night.” He didn’t respond to that and you bristled. You knew your father wasn’t happy about the way you were able to pay for school but you were well over the age of being an adult. Your mother’s murder when you just turned eighteen left you with very little choices so you turned to dancing.

“You don’t need to do that. I can find you another job. Something part time. You could still pay for school.” Hotch offered but you shook your head, finally standing as you adjusted your jacket.

“Thanks but I’d rather handle it on my own. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You stepped around him, letting the silence hang in the air as you carried your purse. A change of clothes, heels and mace were secured.

You drove to the club and practiced the mask you’d built for years of your new lifestyle. The separation of your parents, Mom’s death and a series of abusive relationships that followed afterward left you broken. Angry and right now, you felt cold. You didn’t have any friends. How could? Who would understand you? Who would want to? You were full of hate and despair. You kept your job a secret when you went to school during the day. No one spoke to you and you didn’t speak to them.

You felt like a burn victim. Every touch hurt. You didn’t want to let anyone in. You couldn’t handle the hurt that would come along with it. It felt easier to be cold. To put on your favorite pair of heels, roll your body on the metal and turn off your brain. In the club, you could just…be you. Your job didn’t require a lot of words. Your playlist ramped through the speakers as you danced, a practiced seductive smile and a dark look in your eyes illuminating in the glow. Bills were thrown on the ground as you worked the floor, amping up the growing crowd and your regulars.

A pang flashed in your chest as you thought of Hotch's face when you left home but you pushed past it and continued. You had a private dance to give after your time on stage so you mentally prepared for that.

After a while, you sauntered off the stage and touched up your makeup. Time to make yourself as desirable as possible for this lap dance. You took a breath, plastered on a smile and opened the curtain for the hidden room before your eyes widened.

Spencer Reid was sitting on the velvet couch, legs spread and his pants obviously tightening. His lips parted in shock when he saw your nearly naked body and you stood there still as a statue. You saw this man every single day for hours. He worked with your father at the BAU and worst of all?

He was the instructor at college.

“Uh-” You began.

Spencer shot up and gave you the decency of averting his eyes from your breasts. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t know you were a dancer here. This is extremely inappropriate. Here,” Spencer dug out a wad of cash out of his pocket, shoving it into your palm.

“Wait, I didn’t actually-” But he was storming out before you could finish the sentence.

After the awkward as fuck encounter with your teacher, the rest of the night went smoothly. You crashed into bed after counting your cash to sleep for an hour. Hotch was already gone but he did make another pot of coffee in his departure with a note. You push back your wet hair as you pour the liquid into a cup and read the paper.

“Have a good day- Love, Dad.”

You grit your teeth and try to bite back the anger percolating in your chest as you leave the house.

The university was large so you usually went unnoticed as you settled into your usual seat in the middle of the room. Another thought you didn’t allow yourself to entertain was…you thought about Spencer.

Alot.

Ever since you saw him the first day, you were almost obsessed. His long waves that hung by his ears, tall lean body with a hint of muscle and his converse he always wore. He was ten years older than you but younger than the other professors. He was awkward. Tended to ramble and sometimes he showed a sense of self doubt. But he was so fucking adorable. You almost felt like a girl again, doodling little hearts around his name in your notebook yet you never approached him. You never raised your hand.

Spencer came in with seconds to spare, checking his watch and he settled his bag behind the desk. Your pulse quickened when his eyes found you briefly and then he began to speak, “Class, we’re going to pick up from yesterday. I’m going to give a lecture-“ He went on with his lesson plan but you focused on his hands gripping the wood of the table as your lips found the tip of your pen.

You were a good student, smarter than people gave you credit for so you got away with only half paying attention as he talked. He was avoiding your stare and you felt a little sense of power.

When class was over, you took your time standing from your seat but you didn’t expect him to say, “Ms. Hotchner, do you mind staying for a few minutes? Unless you need to catch the next,”

“Of course, Mr. Reid. No problem.” You smiled and waltzed over. You popped your hip, tilting your head as he swallowed and waited for the rest of the students to leave.

When the classroom was empty, Spencer cleared his throat and his brown eyes flicked over your body. You wore form fitting clothes with an oversized jacket, your hair was dry now and you pursed your gloss lips.

“I want to apologize for last night. That was inappropriate. I hope I don’t make you feel uncomfortable but if you want to transfer out of this class, I will sign the papers.”

“Transfer? Why would I do that?” You raise a brow. “It’s not a big deal. I have to pay for school somehow.” Spencer flexed his jaw and nodded.

“There’s a professional courtesy here and I don’t want to break that.” You smirk at him.

“So it’s not because you work with my scary dad? You just don’t want to feel awkward since you saw me half naked.”

“Let’s just agree to not bring it up.” He interrupts and adjusts his shirt. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

You shrug. “That you went to strip club last night for a private dance? Your secrets are safe with me.” You wink.

“Stop doing that.” He says sharply and you laugh breathlessly as he narrows his eyes at you. Leaning down, Spencer speaks quieter. “Don’t flirt with me. It’s not right.”

“Who said I was flirting with you?” You contradicted the statement by casually exposing the length of your neck as you peered at him with darkened eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Spencer turned to leave but halted when he felt your fingers brush his shoulder.

“Running away again?”

Spencer’s Adam's apple bobs as he looks at your hand. You allow it to fall away as he speeds out of the room with a growing fire in your veins. You only wanted him more now.

When you got home, you completed homework and set a timer for a thirty minute nap. You stretched your arms over your head and peeked out of the window. It was getting dark out. You’d be leaving to go to work in a little bit but you narrowed your eyes when you saw two cars in your driveway. One was your father’s and the other was Spencer’s.

A deranged giggle escaped you as you changed clothes. Putting on a tank top, shorts and you pulled your g strip higher over your hips.

You heard both your father and Spencer talking when you came downstairs. You see open folders on the dining table, the coffee pot and both men looking up at you.

“Hey,” You greet casually and Hotch simply nods at you.

“Are you going in tonight?”

Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. His suit shirt is unbuttoned partially, hair messy from running his fingers through it and his lips part.

“Yeah I am. I just wanted to come down and say hi to my favorite teacher.” You refrain from biting your lip as you see Spencer breathe heavier and Hotch returns to scanning the paperwork.

“Jack is at a sleepover for the night since it’s the weekend. Reid and I are just going over Case details. I’m not going to try and convince you to stay home-“

“Then don’t.” You snap at him.

“But there is a killer out there and I’d rather you stay home.”

You scoff and lean against the wall. Arms crossed as Spencer focuses on the floor. Your dad’s expression is made of stone. “Dad, just say it. You’re embarrassed your daughter is a fucking dancer. You don’t need to beat around the bush.”

“I’m not embarrassed. You fit the victim profile and I don’t want you to get hurt.” Hotch responds with a hint of frustration.

“Oh? Like my step mom?” The words leave before you have a chance to think and you shake your head. “Dad. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yes. Just like your mother. You’re a vulnerable young woman. You’re coming from a stressful situation and you work late at night. That’s exactly what the unsub looks for.” Hotch flashes a glance at Spencer. “And if you are going to work, then Reid will follow you there.”

The younger man doesn’t argue with your father. You don’t either and you nod. “Sure thing. You can be my stand in daddy.” You could have sworn you saw fire flash in Spencer’s eyes but he gave your father a tight lipped smile.

“Guess I’m on a bodyguard shift.”

Hotch swept over the table and returned to looking at the paper. “Bodyguard isn’t the right word. Keep her in your sights.”

Spencer tried his best to remain invisible but you kept your eyes on him the whole time you danced on stage. You hustled harder than usual. Wearing the crowd's favorite set and you made sure to give him the best angle of your ass while you humped the floor.

You didn’t have any private rooms yet so you were going to focus on customer service as much as possible as the brown haired agent stood awkwardly in the corner when you had an idea.

You step off the stage and make your way towards him. Spencer tries to press himself into the wall as you get on your hands and knees. You crawl towards him as he looks down at you with flushed cheeks. People start whistling as you turn around, slowly standing and sitting down on his lap. You’re lost in the rock music as you grind down on his pelvis, feeling him grow hard.

“I know you want to touch me,” You tell him as you lean your head back against his shoulder. Spencer groans as you feel his arm shaking. “Go ahead. I won’t tell my dad.”

“You’re playing a game with me,” He says against your ear. “And you’re going to lose.”

Spencer lifts you up off his lap and you use the momentum to spin around. Setting your heeled shoe in between his legs. His gaze is filled with desire but he won’t break by this. Yet. You could tell.

“I never lose, Spencer.” You bite out his name as you remove your leg. You allow your hands to fall on your tits as you continue slowly dancing.

“And I don’t fuck around with desperate little girls trying to act out a fantasy.” His statement ignites your fire. You’re the desperate one?

You remove yourself from him and storm off. You hear him call your name as you go into the dressing room, slamming the door shut as you throw your clothes over your body. You weren’t sure if it was what he said or just the build up of everything but you wanted to rage out.

“Hey girl, are you okay?” One of your friends asked you as she got ready.

“I’m going home. They can deal with me being gone early one night.” You growl as you march out and you rip open the entrance.

You storm to your car, climb in and try to start it. But it won’t turn on. You turn the keys to no avail and you let out a scream. Pressing your forehead to the steering wheel, you huff when you feel a knock on the window.

Spencer opened the door and you glared at him.

“Car won’t start?”

“Um yeah no shit.” You bark and Spencer sighs.

“Come on.”

“What do you MEAN come on?” You ask him and he holds out his hands.

“I’m going to drive you home.”

You want to refuse and be petty but you were honestly too tired to fight about it. You slide into his passenger seat and turn away from him. Spencer gripped the driving wheel firmly as he drove you home. The ride was silent. As he shut off the engine, you quickly exited and entered your home.

He was on your heel, “Will you stop for one second?” You spin around but start to stumble in your heels and before you hit the ground, he catches you by the arms.

“Whoa; whoa it’s okay, I got you.” His voice was gentle and he steadied you to sit on the couch. “Let’s take these off,” Spencer crouched down and started undoing the straps around your ankles, his long fingers grazing your skin and you stared down at his brown curls. Without thinking you tousled them and he glanced up at you with a hazed expression.

“Your hair is soft.” You whisper and he gives you a tiny smile.

“Everyone says that,” He chuckles and pulls off your heels. Spencer’s brown irises trail over your legs and then flicker around the room. He puts his hands in his pockets.

“You know bottling everything up isn’t going to help you.” You bristle and start to scowl.

“Who says I’m doing that?” Spencer raises his eyebrows.

“It’s also my job to study human behavior.”

“Oh? So you’ve been psychoanalyzing me?” You challenge and he shrugs.

“You make it easy.”

You make a growling noise at the back of your throat and roll your eyes. “You sound like the shrink I saw after Mom died. That’s when she told me I have borderline personality disorder.”

Spencer nods in understanding. “That’s a hard one to live with. It makes sense after what you’ve been through. But you…don’t need to push away your dad. He’s just trying to be there for you.”

“I don’t need anyone.” You ground out.

“Everyone does. It doesn’t make you less because you have needs.” Spencer offers simply and you stand up.

“Spencer, you can’t just say things like that and then pretend I don’t exist.”

“You’re ten years younger than me. I work with your father. I’m your teacher. This wouldn’t be possible-“

“I’m a grown ass woman, Spencer. Just because you’re scared doesn’t mean I am. But if you don’t want me,”

“You think that’s it? You think it’s because I don’t want you? You’re all I fucking think about. It takes everything I have not to excuse everyone out of the classroom and take you right over my desk.” He says with a husky voice and you run your tongue over your lips.

“Maybe you should stop being a pussy. And actually do it. Come on, Spencer. I know you probably have some pent up anger you need to take out…why don’t you show me exactly what you’re made of?”

That was all he needed. He crashed his mouth to yours in a kiss, you sucked his lower lip and gripped his collar as he backed you back onto the couch. Spencer mounted you, hauling your knees apart as he ripped away and stared at your soaked pair of panties.

“Creaming yourself over a little kiss? God damn princess,” He breathed and peeled them off. He tossed them over his shoulder, rubbing his digits over your swollen clit. “Such a pretty pussy.” He praised and worked you over.

He dipped his fingers inside you, curling them as you tightened around him and clawed his shoulders. “Spencer, don’t tease me. Fuck, I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.” You whine.

“Desperate for my dick already? Aww, that’s so cute. But I can’t say no to that pout of yours. Fuckin gorgeous.” He shoves down his pants and boxers, pumping his precum leaking dick a few times before slamming into you.

You throw your head back as he thrusts into you aggressively, his thumb working your clit as he moves and buries his face into your neck. “You’re just a good girl, huh? Needed me to take care of you? You want me to fill you with my cum and make you daddy’s doll?”

You harmonize with his moans as you grow close, “Daddy I want you to breed me, don’t let anything spill out. Just stuff me,”

You feel his ropes of cum spill into your cunt and quickly follow suit. You wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him in place as he rocks into you. Fucking you through as his balls slap against your ass.

“Don’t worry, princess. Gonna fuck you all night long. Since you wanted to toy with me during class. Now it’s my turn to toy with you.”

Spencer heaved you up, carrying you to your bedroom and shut the door. Thank god you fucking moved here, right?

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @littlexdeaths @oceanblvd111 @lilacheavenn @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @redhead1180