#i wanna drift away and not worry about anything at all

[lottiies]

last minute remedy

di leon kennedy x fem!reader

basically, he just fucks you to sleep upon request

note: just a little something to ease my insomnia :3 definitely wanna write about him with a hybrid!reader when i can dedicate more time to writing something long and thought out yipee

leon could never deny you anything. you were his pretty princess. how could he not give in whenever you flashed him a pout and that puppy-dog look of yours that you had perfected to a tee? others would call you spoiled, but whatever you wanted, leon happily gave.

so when you woke him up in the middle of the night with a whisper of his name, a few taps on his shoulder, your cute eyes all wide and expectant as you asked him to fuck you to sleep, he caved pretty quickly.

poor thing, he knew you struggled with falling asleep.

it didn’t take long for his cock to get hard, just the sight of your hand pawing at his boxers was enough to get all his blood rushing south. not to mention the way you pulled your panties off and bunched the fabric of your nightgown up to your hips out of desperation.

fuck. you were so pretty.

that’s how he got here, settled on top of you with his hips nestled between your thighs and your calves lazily crossed over his torso. he’s slow with his movements, letting every inch of his cock fill your needy cunt before pulling out to rub his precum dribbling tip against your clit, and then burying himself back in.

he goes so deep it has your eyes brimming with feel-good tears, and they roll down your cheeks when you shut your eyes.

“yeah, just close your eyes and feel me. don’t gotta worry about a thing, sweet girl.”

he leans down to kiss away your tears, the salty taste of them having become oh so dearly familiar from past moments where you sat on his lap and sobbed your eyes out. or in intimate settings like these where all the pleasurable shocks going through your body had you tearing up.

what a crybaby, he loved it.

who needs a heavy blanket to keep the coldness away when your boyfriend’s body exudes enough heat to keep you all warm and cozy? his body drapes over yours so perfectly.

he knows when you’re close, you don’t even gotta tell him. he feels you squeezing like a vice and he has to resist the urge to creampie you right then and there.

he takes a deep breath, propping himself up on one of his forearms. he’s not getting any younger and he can’t hold back for as long, not when he has a cutie like you under him. he has to make you finish before he spills. his other hand gives one of your tits a gentle squeeze before lowering so the pad of his thumb can circle your swollen clit. his thumb slipped a bit, that’s how soaked you were.

“shh, that’s it…i’ve got you.” he rasps as he presses a kiss against your temple. “just like princess. doing so well for me. you’re gonna dream of me after this, yeah?”

his voice is like a lull, blending in perfectly with the soft sound of your uneven breathing. if you weren’t so damn sleepy, you would’ve been embarrassed by how wet you were, the squelching sounds echoing through the quiet room.

your legs weakly squeeze him, your fingers digging into the sheets, soft and shaky breaths spilling from your lips with sleepy murmurs of his name. “leon, leon, leon…”

no more need to buy gummies and other medications that put you at the risk of getting nightmares. not when leon is more than willing to soothe you by stuffing his dick inside you whenever you ask him to.

it doesn’t even matter that he didn’t shoot a load, just knowing that you were able to go to drift off to dreamland is enough for him.

he gently cleans you up with a warmly washed towel and then freshens up as well before placing a kiss on your forehead as he tucks you in and then slides right next to you, keeping you safe by his side.

[tender-rosiey]

hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤

strain — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)

you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.

however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.

but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.

you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.

the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!

so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.

after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.

a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.

not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.

your husband has an abundance of energy.

but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.

his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.

he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.

but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.

he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.

he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.

he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”

you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”

while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”

you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.

then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”

he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.

you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.

but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.

he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.

instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”

you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”

he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”

perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.

you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.

reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.

he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.

you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.

satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.

you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.

he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”

“I know…”

“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”

you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“

“you could’ve died.”

you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.

your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”

your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”

a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”

“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.

“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”

his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.

a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”

“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.

“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.

you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

His Biggest Prize

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: smut!

After Australian GP, Lewis was counting down the seconds until he got home to you and the kids. It was not a good weekend for him. Not at all and now all he wanted, all he desperately needed was to find comfort in your arms.

It was late at night, close to midnight, when you heard the door of your shared home open. You and Roscoe were lying on the sofa in the living room under a blanket waiting for Lewis. Your two children, Harper and Miles, have been sleeping cause it was long past their bedtime, and your eyes were slowly closing too, but you knew that Lewis needed you and you wanted to be there for him, awake.

You quickly crawled out from under the blanket, waking a snoring Roscoe in the process, and hurried to the door.

"Baby" You welcome him in with a tight hug leaning your head on his shoulder and leaving a lot of soft kisses on his neck.

"Hey, love" He pulls you tighter to him breathing in your scent that calms him right away.

"How are you?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything. He gives you a smile, but his eyes look terribly sad. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be there with you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Don't worry, baby, I'm okay now. I don't wanna talk about it, I just want to go to bed with you." He says taking your hands in his and softly kissing your knuckles. "Are the kids asleep?"

"Yeah, they wanted to wait for you, but I told them you'll be home late so they'll see you in the morning."

"Good, good."

"Let's go to bed, yeah?"

As soon as you got into bed Lewis pulled you all the way to him holding you tightly as if you were gonna slip out of his arms every second. He was so exhausted that it took him only minutes to drift of to sleep with his head resting on yours.

The next morning you were the first one to wake up, a bit earlier than usual. Your body was still pressed against Lewis' feeling his hot breath against the back of your neck and his morning erection unconsciously poking at your lower back.

One of Lewis' oversized t-shirts served as your nightgown every night under which you were wearing only panties so you pulled it up revealing your butt and rubbing it over the bulge in his boxers making him moan in his sleep.

Normally the kids wake you up every day, but since you got ahead of them this morning, you decided to use that time to show your man how much you missed him, how much he is loved, to show him that he is forever the champion in your eyes.

First you turned and placed a few short gentle kisses on his lips before straddling him, slowly grinding your hips against his crotch and running your hands over his firm tattooed chest.

A smile spread across his face when you leaned down and kissed him below his ear whispering "Good morning handsome" It took him a few seconds to open his eyes and realize your position.

"What a sight to wake up to..You on top of me," His hands find your waist pulling you closer into him. "If I'm not the luckiest man in the world, then I don't know who is. Good morning baby"

"Did you sleep well?" You ask still slowly grinding against him. Your panties were staring to soak with your wetness as you feel his rock hard cock through the thin material pressed against your folds.

"I sleep best next to you" He moans at the friction that you're creating between you two. His hand reaches for your, his, t-shirt pulling it up a little so he can have a better view to the junction of your body.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And what have I done to deserve such a special morning treatment?" He asks admiring you, his fingers pulling the strings of your panties up making your lips part and groan.

"Just wanted to remind you how much I love you before the kids wake up" You tug at the waistband of his boxers pulling them down his thighs and taking his thick cock into your hands stroking him up and down at, for him, excruciatingly slow pace.

"Fuckk, baby" He sighs running his hands over his face and through his hair. His hips raising up begging you to take him.

"Baby, don't tease" He pleads, but you can't help it. You bring your face dangerously close to his shaft swirling your tongue over his tip. He hisses squeezing his eyes shut as you start kissing it, sucking on it and collecting the pre-cum that started dripping out. "I swear I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you don't stop"

As soon as you move and straddle him again, he takes his cock in his hand giving it a few strokes and with the other he moves your panties aside. His fingers quickly glide over your wet slits stopping at your aching clit tapping it and rubbing small circles on it.

"You gonna ride me?" He asks and you nod impatiently. "C'mon baby, sit on my cock, show me how you do it" Before you slid yourself down on his length, he sat up and leaned his back against the headboard because this way it was much more intimate, he wanted to have you as close to him as possible while watching you ride him.

Lewis wasn't a loud guy, but he loved that you were. It drove him crazy listening to you whimper, moan, scream out his name in bed. But this time he had to make sure you were as quiet as you could be because you didn't want to wake up the kids. So when you sunk down on him, Lewis quickly covered your mouth with his hand shushing your whimpers.

"Shh, baby, you gotta be quiet okay? Can you do that for me?" He asked and you nodded. His thumb slips inside your mouth and you quickly get to work sucking in your cheeks his eyes never leaving yours. "Such a good girl. You're so hot, fuck"

His lips attack yours aggressively pushing his tongue inside while his hands grasp your butt guiding it up and down on his cock, setting the pace he wanted.

"You like that, baby? You like how I'm taking you?" You murmur against his lips. "So big Lew-uh"

"Yes, my girl riding me so good. Your pussy feels so good, so perfect for me." His teeth bite your nipple through your t-shirt making you wince as the pain and pleasure mingle.

You know that time is running fast and that the kids could wake up at any moment so the rhythm of your hips quickens and you start riding him faster and harder wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You gonna cum around me?" He grunts as he feels your walms clench around him. Before you can even confirm, your body trembles and your head falls into the crook of his neck biting your lip to stop yourself from screaming as you come undone around him.

"That's it, yes, yes, ahh. So pretty when you cum" He leans backwards so that he can lift you up and start thrusting himself hard inside you. The sight of you already worn out from his cock makes him twitch pushing him to the edge. "Shit, I'm gonna fill you up, shiiit baby"

As he finishes he doesn't pull out but stays buried deep inside you. You fall on his chest, both of you gasping for air he cooes you telling you how good his pretty girl did as his hands start rubbing your back.

"To be yours, that's the biggest prize" He says lifting up your chin to look you in the eyes and you smile shyly as your heart flutters at his comment.

"You're forever my champ Lew"

[cornsoupflavour]

Sick Day (Twice NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWICE Momo Hirai x Manager!Male Reader

Tags: 3.8k words, wholesome, manager x idol, multiple creampies, power exchange, role switching, possible romance, caught in the act

It was the day that the TWICE girls were supposed to visit an attraction together as part of a variety show, but your phone buzzed with a message from Jihyo, the leader of TWICE, the morning of the outing. Momo came down with a fever and was advised to rest. Being the group's manager, you acknowledged Jihyo's message and drove over to the hotel that they were staying in. Upon arriving, you climbed the stairs, two steps at a time, to reach Momo's floor. With a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

Momo opened the door, her dark, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a white tee, sweatpants, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Her face is flushed and glistening with perspiration. A steaming cup of tea sits on the bedside table.

"Morning, Momo. Heard you're not feeling too good so I brought you some snacks, some hot beverage packets and a few other things. How are you feeling?" you asked, walking in and closing the door behind you.

"Oh, thank you... I'm really sorry for all this... I wish I could've gone with everyone."

"Hey, we don't ask to get sick... okay, maybe sometimes, but I know this isn't one of those times. So don't worry about it, it's no trouble at all. Trust me, alright? Let's get you all nice and well rested," you helped her to the bed, tucking her in while placing the back of your hand on her forehead to check her body temperature.

She frowned, her lips pouting a little as she spoke, "It's still pretty high, isn't it? I miss everyone already..."

"I'm sure they miss you too, but they'd want you to get better too. I'll make sure they take lots of pictures so you can have a feel of what it was like there. For now, just lay back on your pillow and I'll go make you some hot chocolate and something small to eat."

Momo nods, her eyes closing as she laid back. You set up a small table for her before heading to the kitchen, fixing her up a small meal along with a glass of warm water. You brought it over and placed it on the table with a bottle of vitamins. "Here you go, eat up, you need to eat if you wanna get better."

She sat up, and turned on the television to keep herself occupied as she ate. As she began eating, your eyes drifted to a stack of unread magazines. You picked one up and flipped through it, stopping at a page where Momo is being interviewed. She's smiling, her eyes bright, you can't help but feel bad for how she's feeling right now.

Momo looks away from the television, her gaze fixing on you, "Thank you. This is perfect."

"I'm glad you like it, when you're done, let me know. I'll come and clear the table for you and you can have your rest."

"Thank you again..." her voice damp and slightly hoarse as she leaned back from the table, allowing you to clear the dishes, "...I promise I'll make it up to you and everyone else next time." She sniffled, her nose red from her flu. You began clearing her table, bringing the dishes to the sink and washing them.

"What did I say? I told you not to worry about it. We all have our off days and it appears that today is yours. No shame in that, so just focus on getting better, alright?"

Momo smiled as she tucked herself further under the covers, her gaze momentarily locking with yours. You gave her a warm smile before planting yourself in the recliner, staying close by if she needed anything else. Slowly she drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, you groggily stretched your arms as your eyes peeled open, feeling stiff from your position in the recliner. "Oh, shit– I fell asleep–" You glanced over at Momo, now nowhere to be seen, and your heart skipped a beat. Panic surged through you, and you're about to call her name when you spotted a note on the bedside table.

Your breath hitched, and you let out a sigh of relief as you read the contents of the note.

I'm feeling a little better, so I thought I'd go to the pool to cool down. Please don't worry. I'll be back soon. Thank you for everything. –Momo

You gave your face a quick wash in the bathroom to freshen up before deciding to head down to the pool to find her. As you take a step out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, you're greeted by the soothing sounds of water cascading from a nearby fountain. You walked towards the glass doors that lead to the outdoor pool area, the sun hitting your skin, and you squinted as you surveyed the area.

In the distance, you spot Momo, her curvy form in the pool, the water reflecting the rays of the evening sun, her hair spread out like a fan around her. She was backfloating in a soft pink bikini. That sure is one way to cool off from a fever. She had a pair of red–lensed clear sunglasses as she floated.

You watched longingly as you slowly approached her, subtly admiring her figure. "Water's nice, huh? Enjoying the sun?" you asked, teasingly. She swam towards you upon hearing your voice, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she rested her arms and chin on the edge of the pool. "Hey, nice to see you're feeling better."

"Yeah, looks like I just needed some hot cocoa, a good rest and some care and concern from my favourite manager to help me feel better~"

"Yeah, yeah... you're my favourite too..."

"Huh? What was that?"

"I said you're all my favourites too," you answered, smirking a little.

You take a seat on a nearby poolside chair as you watch Momo try to get out. Your cheeks blush ever so slightly as you're presented with her assets, glistening from the water. Momo extended her hand out, requesting for you to pull her up, but upon grabbing her hand, she pulled you in, laughing excitedly.

Momo continued to giggle excitedly as you float next to her, splashing water at her. "You're so lucky I put my phone down before reaching out–"

After a little bit of playful splashing, you both climbed out of the pool. As you pulled yourself up, your suit and tie absolutely soaked, your gaze landed on Momo, her body glistening from the water, her assets shaking graciously with every movement. Your cheeks turned a soft red as you looked away, handing her a towel. She grabbed it and proceeded to wrap it around herself. "Much better, thank you. The water feels great, it helped cool my fever down. I'm feeling more refreshed now."

You nod, smiling, "That's great to hear. Now, let's get back to your room to get dried up. I'll  check your temperature again too, just to make sure."

Momo nodded, her eyes bright, "Alright, Mr. Manager~" she giggled, leaning into your side.

Before you both start walking, she shook her head, trying to get the excess water out of her  hair. As you watched, it felt as if the world disappeared and you were watching her in slow–motion.

"Shall we?" her voice snapped you back to reality. You blinked a few times, setting yourself back into the real world as you nodded, "Yeah, let's go."

As you walked, you threw on your own towel to cover your wet clothes. After a while, the two of you arrived back at the room. Upon entering, you head straight for the shower to get yourself out of your wet clothes. Once done, you threw on a bathrobe and stepped back out. Momo turned around, drying her hair with the towel.

She smiled as she walked towards you. You returned her smile, glad to see her in better spirits. "You can go and freshen up if you'd like, I'll go grab the thermometer."

"Thank you, thank you, but it's okay, I could stay like this for a while," her grateful smile tugging at your heartstrings as she stated, glancing down at herself in her pink bikini and towel. "Feels nice~"

"Alright then, at least go and dry your hair, don't want you getting sick again."

"Well, at least now if I do, I know you'll come and take care of me~" she teased before proceeding to dry her hair. You headed over to your bag and pulled out a thermometer for her to use. As she stuck the thermometer under her tongue, you placed the back of your hand on her forehead once more.

"Seems alright..."

She showed you the reading and it showed her temperature being back to normal. "Wow, looks like you're alright. I shall take my leave now, the girls should be back in a few more hours."

Momo fiddled with her towel, her gaze moving to the door, "Um, can you stay a bit longer? I'd feel more comfortable with you around, you know, just in case..." she trailed off, her voice a little shy.

You hummed, glancing back at her. "Of course, I could stay till the others get back. I'll just head to the mall downstairs to grab some new clothes. You wanna come with?"

She flashed a grateful smile, "Thank you, I appreciate it... Sure, just let me change into something less revealing. Wouldn't want to give fans a free show~" she added before grabbing some clothes and walking into the bathroom. After a while, she came out and followed you down to buy some clothes. About half an hour later, you're both back in the room.

You tossed your wet clothes into the wash, already changed into a fresh set of clothes. You took a seat next to Momo on the bed. "So, any plans on how you want to spend your 'sick leave'? Y'know, besides swimming in the pool. Or do you want to just relax and rest some more?"

Momo shrugs, her eyes drifting to the television, "I guess I'll just chill here and watch some TV... My phone's dead, so I'll be a little disconnected from the world today–" she smirked, "Not that I'm complaining," she added, her eyes meeting yours.

You chuckled, "Sounds like a plan. If you need anything, let me know."

Momo's eyes flicked back to the door, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she spoke, "Actually, there is something I need from you... I need to make sure you're not just a good manager, but a good friend as well."

Her smile grew as she stood up, swaying her hips a little as she came closer to you. Momo then straddled your lap, her body pressed against yours. She lifted her shirt to reveal her pink bikini top. She tilted her head, her hair cascading around her face, "Is there something I can get you in return, Mr. Manager? I know you like this top of mine~"

You stared, somewhat in disbelief, at the situation you're currently in. You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you gulped before responding, "Umm, I don't know, I'm not really in a position to ask for anything, but if you insist..."

Momo leaned in, her lips grazing your earlobe as she whispered, "Just be a good boy for me, and I'll make sure you won't regret it."

You nodded, a smirk appearing on your lips, along with a smug look. As she pulled back, her hands landed on your chest, gripping your shirt. She began to gently tug, her eyes locked onto yours. "You really are a good friend, aren't you?"

You responded with a flirtatious confidence, "Yes, I am~" you answered, knowing where this was headed. Momo then pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. She trailed her fingers down your chest, her touch feather–light. You let out a soft hum at her touch. "Mmh, so strong..."

With her hands now on your abs, she leaned in, her lips just millimeters away from yours. Her breath was warm, her scent enveloping you. "Now, let's see if I can make you even stronger," she whispered, her lips brushing against yours. As she pulled back, her hands moved to the strings of her bikini top.

You grabbed her wrist, refusing to let her take the top off, "No. Leave it on... I like the way it looks on you..." She blinked with a mix of confusion and desire. She brought your hand to the center of her top, hooking your thumb on it as she slowly slipped it upwards, dragging the top with it.

"We could leave it like this, not on, not off~" she whispered, revealing her perky breasts, topped by dark pink nipples. Her eyes never strayed from yours, her mouth curving into a seductive smile.

You licked your lips, your hands reached out, tentatively, to cupping her breasts. She let out a soft, satisfied moan, arching into your touch. "Ungh, there you go, don't be shy."

You gave in, your hands massaging her breasts, kneading them, feeling her nipples harden beneath your fingers. Her nails dug into your shoulders as she leaned in, her lips capturing yours. She tasted sweet, her tongue dancing with yours as she gripped your hair, her hips rocking against yours.

Momo broke the kiss, her breaths shallow as she leaned back, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "I thought you could use a little distraction, Mr. Manager. You're doing well," she praised, her hand drifting down to the growing hardness between your legs.

You brought your lips to her neck, your head swam against it, planting kisses along her jawline. "Of course, you're my favourite distraction~ Don't tell the others I said that..." you joked but her touch and actions had you on edge. "You really are something aren't you, Momo?" 

You continued to kiss down her neck, your breath warm against her skin. Momo smirked, leaning in to nibble on your earlobe as she grazed your length through your pants.

You let out a soft whimper against her neck. You gripped her hips tightly, knowing this was crossing boundaries, but you couldn't resist her. "Mmff, Momo... So eager..."

Momo sat up, her eyes bright as she pulled down your pants, just enough to release your arousal. She licked her lips, her gaze never leaving yours, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. I'm just happy you're here for me."

You bit your lip, a smirk forming on the corners. Momo wiggled and shifted in your lap. She spread her legs slightly, inviting you to join her. You obliged, Momo's siren call was too strong. You raised her up slightly by her hips, lining her slit with the tip of your length.

Momo leaned forward as she lowered herself onto your member, her hands gripping your shoulders as she connected her lips with yours. As you entered her, a small moan leaked into your kiss. You slowly thrust up into her, her moans filling the room, as she set the pace.

You gripped her hips, your thrusts growing faster and more forceful. "Ahh, goddamn... you feel good, Momo," you panted, your voice rough. "You're so tight, so wet..."

Momo let out a soft, breathy moan, "Ooh, just like that... Nnngh~ You're not so bad, Mr. Manager."

You increased your pace, the sounds of slapping flesh filling the room with every thrust. You gripped her tighter, your lips pressing against her neck, your breath hot against her skin. "Mmh, you feel so good," you groaned, your grip tightening.

Momo's moans grew louder, her body arching towards yours as she grinded herself to meet your thrusts, her body quivering. "Ungh, yeah, don't stop, you're making me feel so good," she panted. The pleasure was building, each thrust bringing even louder moans to the pairing.

You slammed into her, gripping her hips, your thrusts growing more intense, the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping together. Momo's moans grew louder, her head thrown back, her nails digging into your shoulders. "Mmf, yeah, Mr. Manager~ so good... I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," she cried out.

You let out a low growl, your thrusts getting harder, "Cum for me, Momo, cum on my cock. I bet you'll look so good while you do it," you encourage.

Momo's hips bucked against yours, her body shuddering as her climax took over, her pussy tightening around you. "Ahh, daddy, yesss, I'm cumming~" she screamed out, her body trembling, her release shaking her.

Your own climax was nearing, your thrusts frenzied, "Goddamn– you're so fucking good, Momo. Fuck, I'm gonna cum too–" you groaned, your release taking you over the edge, exploding deep inside her.

Momo leaned forward, her chest pressing against your own, her breathing quick and heavy. You both enjoyed the afterglow for a while, her body still quivering, her pussy milking you softly.

You leaned down, bringing her breast to your lips, your tongue swirling around her nipple, gently pulling on it with your teeth. "Mmh, you taste so fucking good..." your voice thick with satisfaction.

Momo let out a soft, contented sigh, "Thank you, daddy, that felt so good... I can't believe I'm calling you daddy, but it feels right~"

You chuckled, giving her a tender kiss on the lips, "Well, you're my favourite, so anything goes, right?"

Momo smiled, her body still clinging to your length, "Right... My favourite Mr. Manager~"

"But I'm not done. You think with a cock like yours that I'll just hope off after one ride? You're in for a real good time~ Let me give you a 'thank you' gift for being such a good manager for us~"

You smirked, "I'll do my best to keep up with you, Momo, don't worry."

Momo grinned, her hands guiding you to lay down on your back. She raised her ass and leaned forward, her breasts pressing against your chest. She wrapped her arms around your head, hugging you into her cleavage. "This is how a good manager should be, right here, in the cradle of his favourite Momo's tits," she purred.

You chuckled, your hands gripping her hips, "So bossy, Momo, but that's what I like about you."

Momo's eyes locked onto yours, a lustful intensity in her gaze that mirrored the hunger in her soul. Her hips shifted, ever so slightly, before she began to lower herself back onto you, her lips parting in a soft moan. Inch by agonizing inch, she descended, her wetness enveloping your hardness.

Your breath hitched, your fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as she sank upon you, her pussy tightening around your length. Her breasts squished against your face, swelling slightly with each tantalizing inch. Your eyes followed the descent, drinking in her sensuality, the way her nipples hardened, the way her throat arched, the way her lips quivered in a mixture of pleasure and exertion.

Once fully impaled, Momo traced a finger along your jawline, a wolfish grin curling her lips. She began to rise, her hips grinding against yours, the head of your cock dragging against her swollen folds. The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, her moans adding to the crescendo of desire.

"Mmf, daddy– My Mr. Manager~" she panted, her eyes never leaving yours, "Make me feel good." The challenge hung between you, a promise of the submission she so eagerly gave.

You gripped her hips tighter, your own arousal building. "Just like that, Momo," you encouraged, your voice deep, hungry. "Give me everything you've got."

Momo's pace quickened, her breasts pressing onto your face, punctuating her movements. Her moans grew louder, her nails digging into your shoulders, her hips rolling, her body swimming against yours. The room trembled with the intensity of the rhythm.

She continued to grind herself onto you, going from quickly to slowly, her eyes locked on yours. Her body came down on your length, her pussy swallowing you whole. She rose and fell, her tits engulfed the bottom half of your face with every movement, her eyes never leaving yours. "Mmf, yeah, daddy, make me feel good," she moaned.

You gripped her hips, your body arching up to meet her, "Just like that, Momo... I'm all yours–" you encouraged her, your voice thick with lust.

Momo let out a soft, satisfied moan, "I'll show you just how you're all mine~ Don't you dare cum without my permission, Mr. Manager," she warned, her tone playful.

You chuckled, your hips bucking up to meet her, "I wouldn't dare, Momo... But when you do let me cum, it's going to be explosive– I will flood you–" you promised, the lust apparent in your voice.

Your grip on Momo tightened, your hips bucking, matching the pace as her body rocked against yours. Her moans grew louder, resonating in the room, filling it with the sounds of pleasure. "Ungh, Mr. Manager, you're getting me so close... I can't hold it," she panted, her voice thick with lust. "Mmf, daddy, you feel so good, I'm close... So close..."

You groaned, your body arching to meet her thrusts, your voice growing hoarse, "Let go for me, Momo, let your juices coat my cock," you encouraged her, feeling your own climax nearing. From beneath her soft yet firm breasts, you took her nipples into your mouth, sucking on them as her movements became more erratic.

Momo's body shuddered, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. "Ahh, Mr. Manager, I'm cumming~" she cried out, her pussy clenching around you, milking you with each spasm. Her moans echoed in the room as her release washed over her.

Feeling her orgasm, you too couldn't hold back, your release pulsing deep inside her. You let out a low growl, your hips bucking up one last time, "Fuck, Momo, that's it, cum for me," you groaned, your release flooding her depths.

Momo collapsed onto you, her body shuddering, her grip on you not letting go. She rested her head on your shoulder, her breathing heavy, "Wow, I don't think I've ever felt so good, that was intense... I think I should get sick more often... what do you think, Mr. Manager? Or do you prefer... daddy~?" she whispered, a satisfied and cheeky smile on her lips, her body still quivering from her climax.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her, your chest rising and falling in unison with hers, "Whichever you like better, Momo... But just wait until the next time, I have a feeling we'll be testing just how much we can handle," you teased, your voice laced with confidence and promise. You peaked from between her mounds and leaned up for a deep, passionate kiss. As Momo reciprocated, her body twitched at your slowly softening cock. Just as you both broke the kiss, a strand of saliva still connecting you two, the room door opened, to the excited chatter and banter from the other TWICE girls.

Both parties turned to look at one another, all their mouths agape.

"Hey, girls... back so soon...?"

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[ Sick Day Pt. 1 – See Pt. 2 ]

[miniimight]

Hellooo! Could you please write for the boys where the reader is sick but doesn't tell them bcs she doesn't wanna bother them?? I love your your blog sm 💙💙

HIDING YOUR SICKNESS ! reader doesn't wanna bother her boyfriend

with izuku, bakugo, rody + fem!reader (pro hero era)

notes thanks for the request anon !!

you: hey i don't think i can make our date tonight... i'm sorry, something came up

he frowned when he got the text. he pinched the bridge of his nose and his overthinking kicked in. you'd been distancing yourself a lot recently... between you spending all your time at someone else's place, having to postpone dates, and his hero work, you barely got to see each other.

he was worried. he pressed the call button and waited for you to pick up.

IZUKU

"hello? y/n?"

you folded from the concern in his voice. he was always going to be worried about you, no matter what you tried to do.

"izuku..." you rasped and you could tell he was taken aback.

"what's wrong, honey?" he said softly. "you don't sound too good..."

you bit your lip. oh, what the hell. he was going to find out anyway. "i'm just a little sick, that's all. i can handle—"

"sick?!" izuku exclaimed and you shied away from his volume. "my love, you should have told me."

"no, it's really okay—"

"how long have you felt this way? is this why you've been postponing our dates? where are you right now?" he ignored your protests and rambled on with more questions for a bit. you weakly answered them all.

"okay, sweetheart, i'm on my way." you could hear him huffing as you assumed he leapt across rooftops. "stay on call..."

a burden was lifted off your shoulders, and the relief made you fall asleep right then and there.

later—though how much later, you didn't know—you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. groaning, you stretched your arms and propped your body up with your elbows.

"oh, you're awake. lay down, love."

you tuned into izuku's voice, squinting through your daze. he was sitting at your bedside, a wet rag in his hand. he shushed you when you tried to ask him all your questions, gently laying the rag across your forehead and kissing your heated cheek.

"you had a fever, honey." izuku hummed, pulling the chair closer to the bed and leaning over the side. "you shouldn't have been under all those stuffy blankets."

you frowned and looked around. the windows were open, the curtains flowing as fresh air filtered in. it was true, you did feel a little less suffocated.

you pursed your lips, feeling guilty. "i'm sorry."

he was absolutely bewildered. "what could you possibly be sorry for?"

you sniffed, rubbing your eyes. "you were at work, right? and..."

izuku softened, stroking your temples with understanding. "it's never an issue for me to take care of you, love. don't be sad. just relax and let me handle everything, okay? i'm here now, to take care of you."

BAKUGO

"where are you and why have you been avoiding my calls?"

you pressed your lips into a thin line. straight to the point, as usual. "i'm... i'm staying at a friend's for the time being." you tried to speak evenly, without any tiredness.

you heard bakugo sigh deeply. "what's the matter, baby? and don't think about hidin' anything from me."

you groaned internally, letting your head drop against the mattress. you mumbled.

"what was that?"

you flared up, heat overwhelming your body. "i'm sick! okay?! i'm so sick right now."

he didn't respond.

you sighed. "i didn't want you to catch anything or worry about it. i can handle it and i'll be back in no time."

he scoffed. "fuck that. i'm coming to get you."

"kat, really—?!"

"yes, really!" you heard faint explosions in the background. "seriously, thinking you can recover on your own when you can't even speak properly." he chuckled.

you wanted to retort, but your throat burned. hmph, you thought. you let yourself drift asleep, feeling comforted.

later, you woke up in his bed to the sound of clanking pots in the kitchen. brows furrowed, you groaned as you stretched, your body buzzing after you let yourself drop into the plush mattress once more.

bakugo peeked into the room. "you're up. good. you need to eat." with an apron on, he placed an assortment of dishes in front of you; soup, fruits, and some cough drops for later.

you sat up a little, startled when his hand pressed against your forehead.

"you have a fever." he shook his head, disappointed. "you probably made it a little worse, isolating yourself under all those sheets. you were overheated when i got you."

you pouted, taking a sip of water.

he craned his neck to meet your eyes, thinking you'd be relieved being home and in his care. you clearly had something on your mind. "baby..." he held your hand. "jus' tell me what's on your mind."

you met his eyes briefly before looking away. "i... didn't want you to miss work for this."

"this matters more than paperwork." he rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his face. he squeezed your hands. "just eat up and rest up. i'll handle everything else."

RODY

"y/n?"

"nope!" his little sister, lala, chirped. "it's me!"

during his last layover, he hadn't been getting much of a response from you. he trusted you with everything, but he was worried. now that he was back in otheon, he was ready to figure out what the hell was going on.

he chuckled at his sister. you must've given her your phone to play her favorite game. "hey, lala. where's y/n, do you know?"

"she's sleeping now." rody could hear her breathing as she pattered over to where he assumed you were laying down. "sleeping like a log."

"yeah?" rody responded, deep in thought. it wasn't like you to sleep while looking after his siblings, so he knew something was wrong. "what was she doing before she fell asleep?"

"uhhh... she made lunch for us?" lala sniffed. "i feel bad, though."

rody's eyebrows creased, tugging a suitcase behind him as he unconsciously walked faster. "why's that?"

"she's got a mask on, and she doesn't want us too close to her..." lala sighed. "and she's burning up."

rody put the pieces together. he raced to the carpark and zoomed on home, bursting through the door.

the loud noise startled you out of your slumber, sitting upright. the abrupt motion made you dizzy and you groaned. lala pat your shoulder, concerned.

rody dropped his suitcase to the ground, kneeling at your side. slipping off his gloves, he pressed his hand to the side of your neck.

"seriously, babe, you should've told me when you started feeling off." he frowned, bustling about to grab you the things you needed. "i could've left any time."

your eyes were glassy when you looked at him, and he felt his heart twisting. "m'sorry," you mumbled from behind the mask. "i didn't want to bother you..."

he scoffed and pulled the mask off your face, squishing your cheeks. he looked you square in the eye. though he was scolding you, he was so soft and gently. "you never bother me. all i think about is you, lala, and roro. i want to know everything you're feeling, no matter what."

you smiled, looking lopsided as your face was still in his hands. "okay."

he grinned and kissed you.

"ugh!" you recoiled, scooching away from him. "rody! you'll get sick!"

he crossed his arms, smiling. "and? we can be in that boat together."

you rolled your eyes. "oh my god."

"aw, don't be like that, baby." rody cuddled up next to you, peppering you with affection. "come on, let me take care of you."

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[luveline]

idk if this is interesting enough for a prompt, but stripper! reader (w/ either aaron or spencer, your choice :) ) where they get worried because they see her with large bruise on her side but really she just got it from a hard fall practicing a pole trick lol

ty for requesting! I thought it was more than interesting my love, 1.1k

cw past implied domestic/workplace violence

"Can I make a cup of tea or something?" 

Spencer lifts his chin before his gaze, hanging onto the line he's reading until he's finished somewhere manageable. Finally looking up, he says, "Sorry, what?" 

"Can I make some tea? Do you have anything like that? Or coffee?" you ask. 

He almost slips standing up. "I'll make you tea." 

"No, I can make it, you're reading. I just wanted to ask before I went rooting through your stuff." 

Spencer's smile is shiny, pretty, all manner of things. It says Don't be silly. "You don't have to ask, help yourself." He nudges you in your bad side. "Of course you can have tea. I'll make it." 

You wince at his contact but follow him into the kitchen without complaining. You're sick of your own narrative —yes, you're a stripper, yes, it's hard work, and you know these things but you're tired of having it be the constant identifier of your life. You really wish work stayed at work, but the half metre contusion spread up your ribs like a formidable stain won't go away. You want something warm to wash down a few painkillers and hopefully you'll fall asleep on his couch. Spencer doesn't make you go home when it gets late and you hate asking him if you can stay. Easier to knock out on his couch and have him throw a blanket over you. 

His mind must have drifted to the same place. "Did you wanna stay the night? It's getting kind of late." He opens the kitchen cabinet above the toaster oven for two mugs, and the cabinet below the sink for his stove top kettle. He peeks at you from over his shoulder when you fail to answer. "Or I can drive you home?" 

"I'll stay. Better chance of survival." 

He does that adorable nose-wrinkled frown. "I'm not a bad driver." 

"Do you have any of my cookies left?" 

You wouldn't usually ask, but you paid for them last time you came over, so you figure it's okay. 

"Sure, they're in the cabinet by the bread bin," he says, moving to the sink to fill the kettle with tap water. His face flicks between you and the task at hand. 

You open the cabinet above the bread bin, double doors creaking on their hinges. Your cookies are in a tupperware container on the very top shelf at the back. He'd probably tell you something about mould or weevils if you asked why they're up out of reach, but you're more focused on getting a sweet treat than anything. You'll ask later. You can listen to him talking until you fall asleep. 

"What is that?" 

"What's what?" you ask, though any further questioning is interrupted by your yelp, a cold hand touching your naked stomach as you set back down on your heels. 

"What happened?" Spencer asks, your shirt held by his pinky finger as his thumb moves over the bruise. It's like he's hoping it's make up to be rubbed away, and he's horrified when it stays undisturbed by his gentle touch. "Who did this? I swear, I'll–" 

"Your hands are cold," you interrupt, taking his hand in yours, peeling it off of your stomach. "And it's kind of tender, Spence." 

"What happened?" 

His tone leaves no room for jogging around. You're not reluctant to tell him for whatever reason he might assume… You and Spencer used to live very close to one another, and you'd see him at the local grocery store, a small place, without saying much. He'd smile at you. Occasionally say hi. Until one day your eye was swollen shut from the force of a cruel hand and he asked if there was anything he could do. So Spencer knows intimately how people have managed to hurt you, and he worries because it's his nature to worry. 

You'll have to tell him what happened, even if it's embarrassing, in order to wipe the concern off of his delicate features. He's angry and scared and sorry, and he has no reason to be any of those things. 

"I– okay, I wanted to practise this twist thing that Stassia showed me," you begin, meeting his eyes with bashful reproach, "you don't have to be so worried. I was practising, or trying to, but it gets cold in the private room and I was shivering and my hands were aching, so I thought I could put on my sweatpants and try again but, you know, you need the–" 

"Friction," he interrupts, looking down at your bruise with a rather ironic smile. "You fell off of the pole?" 

"Yes, and you don't have to sound so happy about it." 

"I'm not," he says, rubbing at the sore fat of your hip apologetically. "I'm glad it wasn't, you know, what I thought it was, but– I mean– how hard did you fall?" 

"I thought I broke my ribs." 

He laughs. It's as soft as his touch. "I bet you did…" 

"Any more touching and I'll think you want to tip me." 

Spencer laughs and winces simultaneously, dropping your shirt back into place and neatening the hem "Right, sorry." He steps back half a step before stepping forward again, his arms quick to wrap around you in a sweeping but brief hug. "Thanks for telling me." 

"Super sarcastic, Dr. Reid." 

He peels away from you to light the stove unsuccessfully. Your side is throbbing at being remembered, your head with embarrassment, and that cup of tea just isn't coming quick enough. The phantom of his fingerprints linger.

You follow Spencer to the stove and push your hip into his, pushing the stove top knob in with the sparker until it catches. 

"Don't make a joke about my hands." 

"I wasn't going to," he says earnestly. The back of his knuckles touch your elbow. "You could tell me the next time you do something like that. You should. I want to know if you have a bruise the size of a watermelon." 

"If I told you every time something was wrong with me we'd always be talking about what's wrong with me," you say, though you press your cheek to his shoulder appreciatively. 

"Good," he says simply. 

"Good," you repeat, surprised. 

You stay like that until the kettle whines, your cheek on his shoulder. Oddly, it's as though you've taken a weight off.

Spencer gives you the princess treatment for the rest of the night, as though helping him make dinner or washing the dishes will stop your bruise from healing. He even pops out to the store for a tube of arnica. It's, shamefully, one of the best days of your entire year, easily making the top ten, as most days with Spencer tend to do. 

[banj0possum]

Can we get more Goth yandere? Like when he offered us the chance to read those dark fairytales together I imagine us in his bed on a rainy day and a candle is lit and we’re snuggled up next to him reading about the darkest shit ever and he’s stuttering because he’s so nervous. Like we’re both under the blankets with our leg over his

*sniff* man..

Yandere! Goth x GN! Reader Pt. 2

🥀 He was dreaming right? This was a dream? Yeah it's a totally a dream!

🥀 No it's not a dream..

🥀 "Jas? So is it your place or mine?" Your voice snaps him out of his trance.

🥀 "Wh-oh! Uhm, y-you can come over to my place if..thats ok.." He's trying to keep calm, but the fact that you're coming over to his house is almost unreal to him!

🥀 The two of you have been partnered up for a science project and you wanted to work on in together at home.

🥀 Jasper was trying not to pass out from happiness over the prospect of hanging out with you without anyone to bother you two, maybe he can finally make a move!

🥀 You walk home with him, and you arrive at his house. It was a grey house with dark blue tiles on the roof. The yard was filled with bushes and vines that grew everywhere, it was rather charming.

🥀 Your both enter and you're greeting by his mom. She was in the middle of cooking when she greeted you sweetly.

🥀 "Why hello dear! I've never seen Jasper bring home a friend before! I'm so glad he's making friends in school!" She smiles.

🥀 Jasper blushes and pouts "Mom of course I have friends.." he laughs, giving his mom a big hug.

🥀 "Awe I know sweetie, now you two come in! I'm making dinner!" She shoos us away from the kitchen so she could cook, and we run up the stairs to his room.

🥀 His room was full of posters and fairy lights; it was gloomy but in a weirdly comforting way. You could see shelves full of curiosities like a jar full of what seemed like raw ore and..is that the pen you lost?

🥀 Jasper lights a few candles which were scented like flowers, and he sits down on his desk "So where do we start?" he smiles.

🥀 The whole time you were working on the project, Jasper was smiling like an idiot. The thought of you spending time with him in his room sent him over the moon!

🥀 Whenever you leaned near him to look at his laptop, he may or may not have gotten a whiff of your hair..

🥀 A few hours pass, and it's started raining. Jonesy came into the room to sleep in our lap as you two finished up the report.

🥀 "Huh, that's weird. Jonesy hates anyone that isn't me or my mom.." Jasper smiles as he pets the little black cat on your lap.

🥀 You joke that you're his second parent and Jasper turns bright red and starts stuttering like crazy. "R-really? I-I mean you can if you wanna I'm not stopping you! N-not like I'm asking you to be my partner of anything right? I mean it's just a cat! Hahah..yeah.."

🥀 You smile at him and laugh before looking around his room again, complimenting his decor.

🥀 "Th-thanks..Oh! I promised you I'd show you my books! I just got Dante's Inferno! You wanna read it with me?" He asks happily.

🥀 You agree and he gets the book, the two of you lying on his bed as he opens a lamp and starts reading, but he's utterly crap at not stuttering every 10 words.

🥀 He could feel you leaning on his shoulder, your bodies getting closer with each paged turned, it was both exciting and calming to him.

🥀 Jonesy jumps off the bed and out the room as the two of you read.

🥀 The atmosphere was so relaxing, the soft glow of the candles and fairy lights in the room and the rain tapping against the window was like a river flowing all your worries and anxieties away.

🥀 Soon enough the two of you drift off to sleep, cuddling eachother with the book discarded on the floor, Jasper held you close to his chest as your legs were tangled together under his blanket.

🥀 "Kids? Time for- oh.." Jasper's mom quiet's down as she peeks in and sees us sleeping together. She giggles and gently closes the door and picking up Jonesy. "We should let them rest for a bit Jonesy.." She smiles as she goes back down.

[maiiuelle]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

“oh, babygirl. that’s horrible.” jj maybank runs his thick fingers down your back, tsking under his breath at the story you’d just told him. he knew rafe was an idiot, but he never imaged he’d fumble you, no matter how much he dreamed about it. yet, here you are, sitting in his lap with tears streaming down your face as you tell him exactly how rafe had ruined everything. “you doin’ alright after all that?”

“i don’t know.” you sniffle, leaning into his touch and setting your head on his shoulder, peering into the crackling fire in front of the two of you. you came to the chateau looking for sarah, your best friend, to give her the details on how things ended with rafe, but instead you ran into jj. he was always the nicest of sarah’s pogue friends, and turns out he’s a great shoulder to cry on. “i just can’t believe he’d do this to me.”

“yeah, well, dude’s a loser — even i could tell you that.” jj mumbles, holding a joint between his lips as he flicks his lighter open over your shoulder. “trust me, he ain’t worth your time.” he lights it and takes a long drag, turning his head to blow the smoke away from you.

“i guess, but he really didn’t seem that way. maybe i’m too gullible.” you dig the heel of your palms into your eyes, the irritation from crying making them red and raw. the blonde shakes his head as you speak.

“nah, nah nah. you didn’t do nothin’ wrong, cupcake. i bet you he’s cryin’ more than you. shit, i would be.” jj takes another hit, flicking the ash into the fire pit. “he doesn’t deserve a sweet girl like you, clearly can’t treat you right.”

you move your hands to look up at the pogue boy. “you’re such a sweet talker, jj. you know just what to say.”

“s’not that, i just know i’m right. i got no clue how you could even deal with that guy. you couldn’t pay me.” he whistles, offering the joint to you. you accept, brushing your fingers over his as you take it, already giving him heart eyes. “you dodged a bullet, sweetheart. maybe literally. he’s a fuckin’ psycho.”

you laugh, assuming he can’t be serious as you put the joint to your lips. the smoke fills your lungs and sends you into a coughing fit. “sorry, it’s from my cousin’s stash — hydroponic.” jj takes the joint back from between your fingers, starting to rub your back again comfortingly.

he lets you cough it out, looking over your pretty face in thought. “y’know.. you should stick ‘round me. promise he’ll steer clear.”

already getting dizzy from the high, you slump back into your spot against his shoulder. “but, i thought you didn’t like kook girls.” you pout, and he scoffs.

“who told you that?” he takes another hit, cursing sarah for trying to cock block him. “doesn’t matter anyways, i like you.”

“i like you too, jj.” you giggle, rubbing on his arm like a cat. you’re too overwhelmed with emotion to worry about embarrassment, and jj’s making you feel so much better already. “thanks for listening, i dunno what i would’ve done if you weren’t here.”

“it’s my pleasure, cupcake. don’t sweat it.” he smiles that charming smile at you, his eyes flickering between yours and your enticing lips. he clears his throat after a few seconds, his eyes lost in yours. “uh—i could think of a few other things we could do to help get your mind off him. if you uh, catch my drift.”

before the moment can go on for too long, the twinkie pulls up the gravel driveway and parks with a squeak. jj peers over his shoulder, putting the joint to his lips one final time as he smacks the side of your leg. “c’mon, sugar. i got just the thing.” he chats as he helps you to stand, immediately meeting john b’s curious gaze when he hops out of the twinkie.

jj jumps to speak first in hopes of avoiding any uncomfortable questioning, he couldn’t risk anything tarnishing the mood he worked so hard to set. “perfect timing — fire’s already lit, so is a joint, if y’all wanna hop on that.” he points to the set up of lawn chairs around the fire pit lazily, far more focused on leading you across the lawn and up the chateau steps, all the while toying with the hem of your tank top. “poor little lady’s havin’ a bad day, needs some one on one time with papa j.”

“ew, oh my god.” sarah scrunches her nose, having predicted jj would try to get with you. as much as she wants to be angry, seeing you all gooey in jj’s arms rather than her psychotic brother’s is a little refreshing — but she would never tell jj that. she just rolls her eyes and looks the other way. john b gives his best friend a proud look behind her back, flashing a silent thumbs up as he ushers you inside.

the second the screen door slams shut behind you, he’s pulling you back onto his lap on the couch, his big hands sprawling over the back pockets of your jean shorts. you giggle, biting your lip nervously as you climb on top of him. “jj.. right here?”

“gotta take care of you, don’t i?” you can hear his smile in his voice, even with his face buried in your neck as he covers it in gentle kisses. you hum at the feeling of his lips, so sensitive it almost tickles. your little whines only make him want to go further, his hands hooking under your legs to lift you and carry you to the bedroom. “yeah, don’t you worry, m’gonna make you feel all better, pretty baby.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

[octoberautumnbox]

Orange-Tinted Sunset

Kiss of Life Belle & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of alcohol n bein drunk, technically not cheating but also sorta close enough idk u be the :jujj:

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: another prompt fic! based on kiof's Nothing i swear im on hiatus lmao but here it is! thanks to @mintwithchoco for prompt and hosting! as well as @sinswithpleasure for beta and @0cta9on for saying i was good at everything so i crode strove to prove em wrong lmao

~~~

The nightclub spun around you, the alcohol clouding your thinking and doubling your vision. A strange feeling set in–you really were a guppy in a small pond. Whatever roaring applause you got from the crowd after that impromptu karaoke bout was nothing compared to the girl that came next. You can’t even work up the energy to be mad; her voice is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, flowing through the air and filling up every silence in the world, and it doesn’t help one bit that everyone else thought so too.

Her name, just her name. You wouldn't mind going home with nothing to show for the whole weekend as long as you knew what she was called–you have to know. Against every single ounce of common sense you have left, you walk up to her, calling in every favor from the universe you’ve saved up until this point. “H-hey,” you stumble, clearly more nervous than you should be. 

She turns around, and as her hair settles onto her back, she replies, “Oh, hi. Can I help you?” Her smile lights up your world, and you gain confidence and lose it again just as quickly. She’s gorgeous too, and how could you live with yourself if you fucked up with a girl like this again? 

And you realize you’re staring. “Hi,” you start again, “sorry, I, uhh, you killed it up there. Best I've heard in a while.” Pardon yourself for the understatement; she was exceptional. Stop yourself from saying more; she’s probably already heard everything you want to tell her. 

All she does is giggle in response, and you swear you’re face-to-face with a goddess. You slip, so just fall deeper and remember to blame the alcohol later on, “I mean it. You’re like nothing I’ve heard before. Can I ask for your name?” 

Her face sours almost imperceptibly, but your nerves don’t let you miss it. She holds back a grimace, but ultimately, she replies, “It’s Belle. Sorry, is that all? I have to go soon.” She shifts in her chair, no doubt trying to escape the situation, and it dawns on you you might look worse than you feel. 

“Y-yeah, that’s all. I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe. One musician to another. You were amazing.” Your voice holds together for the most part, but it doesn’t change her demeanor. 

“Thank you, it’s just…” she hesitates, breathing deep, “whatever this is, I don’t want to get involved. You’re nice, but I just… I can’t handle anything else right now.” The discomfort leaves her features as a quiet sadness replaces it. You’re no expert, but even a dunce like you could tell she was tired more than anything else. 

“No worries, I respect it. I’ll leave you alone.” It’s strange how you feel the lightheadedness drifting away and your senses coming back, almost like you’ve saved up quite a bit of good karma to ground yourself like this. Debatable, but you still have enough sense in you to offer, “Here’s my number, no hard feelings if you throw it away. I at least wanna buy you some nachos tonight as thanks for that gorgeous song. Good night, Belle,” before paying for them and ultimately heading for the door, above all trying in vain to forget about her. 

~~~

It’s familiar in two ways, being hungover at noon, sitting in a restaurant too fancy for what you’d ever typically be found dead in. On one hand, it reminds you of one of the best days of your life–your beloved sat across from you in a simple floral sundress while you shared a brunch of French toast and orange juice. 

“Thanks for coming out,” Belle said in a tiny voice, “I'm sorry about last night. I want to get to know you better.” She offers you a pancake, and once you accept she deposits it onto your plate, followed by a just-right helping of maple syrup. 

You try to avoid sounding humble, but there’s no other way to put it. “There's not much to know, really. I just came here on a whim. Needed to get away from it all, broaden my horizons. Us singers just gotta, you know? If I didn't, I'd never have found you.” 

“I hear you. I'm here to take a step back too. Things became too much to handle recently,” she relates as she takes careful bites of her cereal. For the first time since last night, you see each other's eyes, and a kindred spirit in you pulls on your heartstrings. It's an unspoken pain that's anything but obvious, and yet you see it in each other as clear as day. 

“Fucking exes, right?” the pair of you say in unison. A hearty laugh escapes both of you, and afterwards the pancakes slide down a bit easier. 

Belle calms herself first, “So you get how I was last night. I'm sorry, none of it was your fault.” You offer her a napkin and pour her another cup of ginseng tea, which she sips with an ethereal sort of grace once she finishes talking.

“Of course. I'm sorry too,” you sigh, picking at your scrambled eggs, “but at least we're recovering. I'm actually itching to write a new song once my hangover clears.”

“Me too, it’s just so freeing to let my feelings out onto songs. Plus all it costs is a pen and paper–much cheaper than therapy,” she agrees.

On the other hand…

~~~

“Blue palm trees?” she giggles. “What does that mean?”

The waves lap idly at your feet, scattering sand over your toes and hers. The calming ocean breeze washes over the both of you and weakly ruffles the paper she easily holds.

“It's called a hook, Belle. It captures the audience's attention, you should know this shit” you jab, drawing out more of her laughter. “Just let me be, okay? I'm the one with the pencil.”

She settles again, “Okay, okay, fine,” and sits back up straight. Another wave washes the sand away from the tops of your feet, dragging them back to the depths of the sea. In a split-second of feeling the grains slide off your skin and away with the water, you feel deep inside that maybe it'll be easier to walk again. 

“You know,” she starts gently, “this isn't too bad. I came here determined to grow stronger, but I don't feel any different–just more of what I was before. And weirdly…” Belle pauses, taking a short glance at you, meeting your eyes.

You can't help it; she's just that beautiful. The orange-tinted sunset behind her offers her a halo of warmth and sincerity, and it captivates your whole being to be able to spend a moment like this again, when the world is just right, especially with her. The waterline reaches up to your soles once more, tickling the both of you and sprinkling new grains between your toes before drawing back and taking the old away. 

“... Weirdly,” you continue for her, “I'm okay with that.” Your eyes never leave hers, and she stays, too. It takes a moment of serenity for you to finally let yourself think that this might be something more, that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay with a girl like her. 

It takes a moment of serenity for you, but it seems like forever in an instant. Memories rush back like the ocean soaks the shoreline, swapping old sand with new, but you could never, can never, tell the difference. It's the same grains washing your feet, slipping between your toes, embedding themselves in your life so well that random moments like this bring you to the past when you least expect it. It reminds you of a history you'd give anything to forget: walking on a beach like this with a girl you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with–to an extent, you still do. How could you fuck up with a girl like that?

~~~

It's the worst gamble the both of you could take, and deep inside you knew there was no winning this. You felt it in your bones, from the beach to the elevator up until before you burst through her door with her, but the feeling is gone now, and for sure it’s gone for her too.  

“Mmm, just like that,” she whispers straight into your ear. You swear you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as the sweat on her neck, so much so that you never want your lips to leave her. She pulls you closer as if she could, maybe only decreasingly aware that her back was up against the wall and that even grains of sand couldn’t breathe in the space between you two. 

It takes no time at all, and you find yourself laid back and vulnerable on her mattress. Belle towers over you, straddling to keep you in place, as if you’d go anywhere. In a flash her shirt leaves her, then her shorts, and finally her underwear haphazardly thrown to the floor. Your own clothes follow even less ceremoniously, letting nothing get in the way of the woman of your dreams. 

“Fuck, that’s good…” she says as she lowers herself onto your length. You relish in the feeling of sliding into her, pushing her walls apart all the while lewd confessions spill from her lips. Your hands find her hips and you grip her tight, guiding her up and down as she bounces on your cock, “You’re so fucking tight, Belle…” while she places her hands on your chest to support herself as she takes you inside her over and over again, “I can’t get enough of you… I need you so bad…” losing yourself in her love. 

It’s the simplest thing to grab her wrists like this, to throw her onto the bed and fuck her yourself. She hits the mattress with a quiet thud, and without even a moment of respite you force everything into her again. 

“Gnnhhh, shit, it’s so good, you’re so good…” she gasps and grunts with every thrust like it knocks the air out of her each time. The bed creaks under the two of you: she tries to pull you close again, so you indulge her and meet her where she is to kiss. Amidst your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, she moans like her life depends on it, “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes–” 

It’s the easiest thing to get lost in a girl like her. She’s perfect in every way you can think of–a smile to die for, a heart to protect, a body to worship. Each moment you bottom out in her, a spark goes off between your lips and hers, and it only pulls you in deeper, pulls you away farther from where you are. There’s nothing else to think about when you’re with a girl like this except her name and the way her body feels on yours. It’s so dreadfully incessant, unceasing in your head, that you thank your lucky stars you’re able to hold back most of your moans: Yuna, Yuna, Yuna, “Yuna…”

~~~

The sun blazes through the window and straight onto your eyelids, jolting you awake. The bed creaks as you bounce slightly on the mattress, your mind rushing to find your bearings, when right beside you, Belle stirs but then promptly falls back asleep. 

A grave sense of guilt overtakes you, clawing from the pit of your stomach all the way up to the back of your throat. There's nothing to say to her, nothing to do, and you know it. How could you fuck up with a girl like this? 

Your phone's alarm rings on a far-off table. Rush over to it, careful but quick so Belle doesn't wake. You knock over an ottoman in the process, but you're able to turn it off in time. Then it hits you: your flight leaves in a couple hours. There's no more time to think–gather your clothes and rush back to your own hotel. 

“Hour and a half,” you think, “more than enough time to repack and go.” Your door crashes open and you heave your suitcase onto the bed, haphazardly throwing everything you own back into it. The zipper disagrees with you for a moment until you finally bend it to your will, albeit threatening its life in the process.

The cabbie drives as fast as he can legally go for you, apparently already knowing the protocol, and people and buildings whizz past in a giant blur. He drops you off soon enough, and with only minutes to spare and the gate calling you over the intercom, you board your plane. The cold of the seat comforts you and calms your nerves, and once the hurried energy leaves your body, all that's left is fatigue that demands to be addressed. 

You scarcely notice the window beside you beyond pulling it shut. The cushions aren't as comfy as your bedding from the night before, but you can't attempt to complain in a state like this. You don't even feel your train of thought slipping away…

~~~

You’ve put it off long enough, the anxiety rending the lining of your stomach. In between your own calls and texts to Yuna you find yourself on the receiving end of the restlessness of your endlessly repeating ringtone and text notifications. You wait another few seconds to make sure she’s done, even tossing your phone onto your old bed to fetch a glass of water, before picking it back up and seeing the same number of messages. It's time. 

hey, where'd you go? Belle, 8:46 AM

it's a nice song, I'll send it over in a bit. call me? Belle, 8:50 AM

I'm at the restaurant again lol come on over Belle, 9:02 AM

you're really gonna make me miss you huh? hahaha Belle, 9:33 AM

*2 missed calls*

this isn't funny. pick up Belle, 10:14 AM

*2 missed calls*

you're serious? so last night was nothing to you? Belle, 11:15 AM

*1 missed call*

wow, what a fucking piece of shit you are Belle, 11:17 AM

*4 missed calls*

is it something i said?  Belle, 2:46 PM

let's just talk Belle, 3:30 PM

*2 missed calls*

just tell me what I did wrong please, I told you I can't handle this Belle, 3:37 PM

*8 missed calls*

don't do this to me Belle, 5:47 PM

*1 missed call*

fine asshole i don’t need you and fuck your song. Belle, 7:15 PM

don’t ever call me. Belle, 8:40 PM

The screen dims under your command. Your phone flies off into the folds of your bed once more, granting you your last moment of control. Belle finally stopped, and Yuna never made herself heard. At least one of you moved on.

You stand in your cold, empty bedroom, in the same dingy apartment you tried leaving behind. The same torn-up pages are scattered across the floor, the same stains on the carpet are there to step around, the same picture framed flipped down to hide the old photograph inside like grains of sand getting swept back up to you no matter how hard you try washing them away.

“It's another bottle tonight,” you decide in no time at all. Pull a cold one from the fridge, ignore the other bottles strewn across the room, take a seat at your desk. The lamp buzzes to life, and another sheet finds itself under your pen. 

They never meet. 

~~~

[sanguineterrain]

i'll put us back together at heart - s.h.

Summary: It's 1987. You haven't spoken to Steve Harrington in nearly five years. Then Dustin Henderson tells you about a sweet deal he has at Family Video, where he can rent any movie he wants.

Pairing: ex-best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings/tags: friends to strangers to lovers. the reader is twenty in 1987 and i technically made steve twenty-one/about to turn twenty-one. s4 happened but eddie's alive and vecna's dead. no earthquakes or anything like that; reader has no idea about what really happened. lots of angst, mentions of billy hargrove (yuck) and steve's s1 asshole friends.

A/N: oh my lord. i don't know where this eighteen-wheeler of a fic came from but here it is. there is a happy ending, not to worry. i'd never do that to y'all &lt;3 feedback and reblogs are always always appreciated!

divider by firefly-graphics

August 1981

"I wish we could stay eighth graders forever."

You lift your head from your orange pool floaty. Steve drifts on the surface of the water. His hair is longer, way longer than you've seen it in the three years you've been friends. He says it's better for styling that way; he's even bought a gel and cream for his hair. You don't understand why he wants to change something that doesn't need changing. 

"Why?" you ask. "I thought you were excited for high school."

He hums. The sound echoes in his backyard. 

"It's bigger than middle school. More kids, more teachers, more work. I like eighth grade."

"I'll help you with your work," you say. 

Steve turns his head and smiles at you. Part of his face is in the water, the image distorted. 

"You'll do great," he replies. "You're so smart."

Steve doesn't say those things to get you to help him like other kids do. Steve means it. 

"You'll do great too," you say. "You're funny and nice and my best friend. People will like you."

"You think?" 

You nod. Steve turns his head and closes his eyes again. 

"We'll stay friends, right?" he asks. 

The floaty squeaks as you move to sit up. You paddle to Steve so you can look at his face. 

"Why wouldn't we?"

"I dunno." His eyes are still closed. "You might make super smart friends. And I'll just be a dumbass holding you back."

You shove Steve's shoulder lightly. 

"You are not dumb, Steve."

One muggy June night had had Steve admit he wasn't thirteen, like you and all the kids in your class, but fourteen. He had been held back in third grade after his parents moved from Illinois. It's why my brain's mush, he'd said. I was born dumb.

He had made you swear not to tell anyone. 

"You're not dumb," you say again. "Say it, Steve. Say you're not dumb."

His frown deepens, but he still won't look at you. 

"Tommy says I am."

"Tommy Hagan is a shithead," you shoot back with so much venom, Steve's eyes fly open. "It's not true, whatever he tells you."

You hate that they've been hanging out more this summer. You can't tell Steve that, because it's not like you own him. He can be friends with whoever he wants. But you can't help that your skin crawls when Tommy and his stupid girlfriend, Carol, drops by and pulls Steve away from you. 

“Promise?” he asks.

“Yes, Steve. I promise.”

“‘Kay.” Steve smiles a little. “Thanks.” 

You nod and lay back on the floaty. 

“Wanna get ice cream after this?” he asks. 

“Just us?” 

“Just us.”

Now. (January, 1987)

You slam the phone back onto the receiver. A girl playing Pac-Man carefully glances at you. 

Whoops. Right. You're still at work. 

You smile and give a thumbs-up. She turns around. You return to your wallowing. 

You’ve called three different video rentals. Jewel Films, which is about to go out of business; More Movies, whose attendant hung up on you before you could say Molly Ringwald; and finally, Blockbuster, which is thirty minutes outside of Hawkins. None of them have a copy of Pretty in Pink. 

And okay. You could just watch another movie. You don't need that specific one. But this year has been shit. You'd thought after starting college, you'd finally break out of the Hawkins forcefield that had limited your social life. You'd thought you'd make friends and not be so terribly lonely. Life is supposed to get better after high school, isn’t it? 

Obviously, whoever said that is a big, fat liar. 

“Dude!” you hear a familiar voice exclaim. “Stop hogging the game!”

Tawny curls peek from under a green and yellow hat. The hat hovers over an older boy who’s glued to the Tempest booth. You go to them. Dustin Henderson lights up when he sees you. You can read his hat now; it says Camp Know Where ‘85.

“Hey, Y/N!” he greets brightly. “This guy has been here for a half hour. I left to get nachos and when I came back, he was still here.”

“I’m this close to beating my score!” the kid insists.

“Come on, guy," you say, one arm on the machine. "You gotta give other people a turn."

The kid, evidently demon incarnate, sneers at you.

“Who’s gonna make me? You?” 

You lean against the side of the game, considering.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” he says.

You snort. 

“Sixteen? And you’re still on Tempest?”

He glances at you. 

“So?”

“Everybody your age is playing Rampage, that’s all.” 

You wink at Dustin. He beams.

“And, uh, I saw a couple girls hanging around Rampage,” you add. 

The kid turns to you. You tilt your head innocently. 

“Seriously?” he asks.

“Seriously. People always flock to the new games.”

Which is true. The girls part is not, but he doesn’t need to know that. With that attitude, he won't be getting many phone numbers anyway. 

You drum your fingers on the game like you have all the time in the world. And sure enough, the kid takes his quarters and heads towards Rampage. Dustin jumps in delight. 

“You’re awesome, Y/N!" 

You grin. “I try. Where are the others?”

Dustin sours.

“They ditched me. To hang out with their girlfriends! Can you believe that shit?” 

“No way!"

He shakes his head.

“I know, right? My friend told me that that’s what happens in high school. People change, y’know? And he’d know, I guess. He’s old like you.”

You scoff. “You make me sound like some kind of ancient. I’m not that old, Henderson.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He pats your arm. “In many cultures, the elderly are wise. Now in my experience, this hasn’t been the case. But I think you’re wise.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Dustin smiles like the little shit he is and puts his change in the slot. 

“Well, contrary to what this other friend says, I’m sure it’ll pass,” you say. “You guys will hang out again." 

You swallow your acidic truth. Dustin's a good kid, and so are his friends. You don't want him to turn cynical like you have. He's too young. 

Dustin shrugs, starting the game.

“I guess so. I got a copy of The Lost Boys for us to watch on Friday. They said they’ll be there.”

“Whoa, seriously? That one just came out, how’d you get a copy?”

“My friend,” he says. “The one I mentioned. He works at Family Video and reserves stuff for me.”

“Huh. I thought Family Video was closed."

You'd applied to work there last year and never got a call back. You'd gone by once and it had looked abandoned. Hence why you now work at the arcade across town. 

"It almost did, but Keith took over so now it's barely scraping by."

"Ah. Sweet deal on the movies."

“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, eyes crinkling. “My friend's pretty cool. You'd like him."

"Would I now?"

"Absolutely," he gushes. "He's a total badass too. He won his first fight last year. He used to be a jock but he's recovered." 

"Wow. Impressive."

"Mmhm. I could ask him to hold stuff for you too, if you wanted.”

“You would?”

The game makes a sad game over noise. Dustin sighs and takes a gulp of his slushie.

“Yeah, totally,” he says through a mouthful of blue raspberry ice. “Which one do you want?”

“Pretty in Pink? I missed it in theaters."

“Sure. I’ll tell him to hold it tonight and tomorrow you can pick it up.”

“Cool. Thanks, Dustin.”

Dustin gives you an apple-cheeked grin.

“Gotta stay in good graces with the arcade attendant who lets me play Tempest as long as I want.”

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, walking away. "Don't get slushie on the game."

"'Kay!"

Dustin only gets a little bit of slushie on the game, but he cleans it up with about a million of the cheap snack bar napkins. When he leaves, he tells you to mention his name at Family. 

"Who do I ask for?" 

"You can talk to either of them," Dustin says. "Doesn't matter. Except Keith. You know Keith, right?"

"Unfortunately.” Keith used to terrorize the arcade before he blessedly moved on. “He works there?"

"Barely." Dustin scoffs. "He's almost never there, so don't worry. And feel free to ask for more movies. They owe me one."

Your sole interactions are with professors and a gaggle of high school freshmen. But now you get to watch any movie you want. Maybe this year won't totally suck. 

The bell rings pleasantly as you step inside. There's a few people on line, so you take your time walking in. There's a movie display with about thirty copies of RoboCop. A cardboard cutout of RoboCop stares back behind his red helmet.

"Can I help who's next?"

You go to the counter. A girl about your age with a choppy haircut smiles at you but it's sort of strained. She has a pin on her green work vest that says Ask me!

"Please don't ask for Adventures in Babysitting," she says. 

"Oh. No, I'm, uh, Dustin's friend?" 

You can't believe you're name-dropping a high schooler. 

She nods in realization. 

"Oh, yeah. God, I keep telling that dweeb not to promise holds."

You wince. 

"Sorry. If it's going to get you in trouble…"

Her brows raise. She smiles a bit. 

"No, it's okay. Usually my coworker deals with it but, well. He's taking an extra long break today. So, what movie was it?"

"Pretty in Pink," you say. 

"Classic," she replies. "John Hughes fan?"

"Somewhat. I didn't get to see it in theaters. I like Molly Ringwald."

She grins.

"Me too. She's pretty."

"Super pretty," you agree. 

The girl considers you, then sticks out her hand. 

"I'm Robin," she says. "Nice to meet you."

You take her hand. "Y/N.”

"Did you go to Hawkins High?"

"I did. Graduated last year."

"Oh, cool. Are you in college?"

You nod. 

"Hawkins State. Twenty minutes from here."

"Sweet! I'm taking a gap year, but afterwards, I’m gonna apply there. It's cheap. College is college, right?"

"College is college," you agree. "But I wish I'd gone away for school."

You don't know why you're telling her this. You've known Robin for all of two minutes. But she seems friendly. And her sense of style is cool. She wears a blue blazer and tie underneath her vest. 

"How come?" she asks. 

"Everybody from Hawkins is there," you say. "And I… I just want a new start."

Robin smiles sympathetically. 

"They're jerks," she says. 

You huff. "Yeah."

You'd turned yourself into a social recluse a million years ago. It's your own damn fault you can't befriend anybody in this town. At least, not anymore. 

Robin types into the computer, then smacks the monitor. She groans. 

"Ugh. Gimme a second," she says. "Stupid technology."

"No problem," you say, smiling. You like her. Maybe you can integrate Family Video into your regular routine, become friends. You can see Robin becoming a good friend. One you wouldn't grow apart from. 

She disappears into the back room. You browse the old releases and stop at Die Hard. This one you saw in theaters. John McClane is a badass. 

You think of Dustin, and his supposedly badass new friend. It's too bad you didn't meet today. Dustin has a good sense about people. If he says so, it's possible you and this friend really would get on. 

The bell rings again. You're slow to look up. The entrance is empty when you do. You keep reading about John McClane's adventures. 

"Have you been waiting long?"

You turn at the new voice. The video slips out of your hand and clatters onto the counter. 

Steve’s hair has grown since you last saw it. He looks different too, though he has yet to break out of his signature church boy polos. There's a smattering of stubble on his jaw. His arms are lean with muscle. He wears a matching work vest like Robin's, name tag printed Steve in blocky font. 

He looks at where you've dropped Die Hard and smiles. 

"This is a good one," he says. "John McClane is a total badass."

You blink.

"Did you want to rent that one?" he continues, meeting your eye. 

"No," you manage. 

"Okay, no problem. Just browsing?" 

He doesn't remember you. 

You stare and stare. Steve leans in, concerned. He's changed, but he hasn't. He's still handsome with his swoopy hair and big, dark eyes, but the Steve you knew wouldn't have been caught dead working at a video store.

And he doesn't remember you. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuine.

You take a step back from the counter. The blood roars in your ears. Robin comes back in, Pretty in Pink in hand. She looks at you, then at Steve. 

"Got it!" she tells you. "Computer should work now."

"I have to go," you say. 

You don't look at Steve again, instead focusing on Robin. 

Her brows rise. 

"Oh. Is everything—"

"I forgot my wallet," you blurt. "I can't pay for the movie. Sorry."

"That's okay, we can just—"

You run. The bell chimes over her words. You keep running until you get to the bus stop, three blocks away. 

Only there do you stop to catch your breath. 

And then you cry. 

February 1982

"What do you think about Marie?" 

You look up from your textbook. Steve is doodling in the margins of his notes. You gently prod his arm. He returns to reading but his leg starts to bounce under the table. 

"Marie Iverson?" you ask.

"Yeah." 

Steve glances at you. He pushes his hair back. It had taken him freshman year to get his bearings with all the gels and creams, but now, his hair is a point of pride, always perfectly coiffed. Seniors call him "The Hair" and high-five him in the hallway. You hate it. 

"I don't know. I don't know her that well."

"She's cute." 

"I guess so," you say. 

It's harder to get Steve to focus on homework these days. Last year, he happily made flashcards with you and even bought fancy gel pens to share for your notes. Now, he prefers to talk about girls or—

"I was thinking of asking her out."

The tip of your pencil breaks. You really ought to start using pens, but you don't like being unable to erase. 

"Shit, here. Take mine." 

Steve offers his still perfectly sharpened pencil. You stare at it. 

"Y/N?" 

"Yeah." You take the pencil. "Thanks."

"Sure. So what do you think?" 

"I don't know, Steve. I thought you talked about this stuff with Tommy."

"I would, it's just…" Steve shifts uncomfortably. "He can be rude about it sometimes. He doesn't even get why we're friends, y'know? Doesn't understand why I don't just date you."

Tommy is a moron, but you've said that since last year, and Steve's never listened before. 

"Some people don't get it," you say mildly, because you have an upcoming French test and there's no use in getting upset over Tommy Hagan right now. 

"But you do. And you know about this stuff better than me. Girls and all."

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what girls are best for you to date, Steve. It's weird to talk about."

Steve deflates. 

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."

You sigh and rub your temple. 

"I thought you knew all about that," you say, extending an olive branch. "Asking girls out and stuff."

"Well, I mean, I've kissed girls but I've never… you're, like, the only girl I really know."

Something like pride swells in your chest. Selfishly, you want to keep Steve. You don't want to help him if it means losing him. Oh, you're so greedy, aren't you? You watch Steve run off with Tommy and Carol and nameless seniors and seethe, because Steve was yours first. Steve is yours.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah." You give him back his pencil and fish for another one in your bag. "Did you ever think about writing how you feel?" 

"Writing?"

"Yeah, like a poem or a letter."

"I'm terrible at writing," Steve laments. "The letters get all jumbled and I never spell a damn thing right."

He'd told his mom once how letters melt into each other, how b's become d's. She'd taken him to get his eyes checked, and when the doctor said Steve was fine, Deborah Harrington had told her son to stop begging for attention. 

"Someone who really likes you won't care about spelling mistakes, Steve," you tell him. "As long as you write from the heart. Don't do that cheesy shit and quote Romeo and Juliet. They're young, impulsive, and they die at the end, and that's not romantic."

Steve laughs, nose scrunched. 

"What!" you demand. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, 's just—of course you'd have something to say about quoting Shakespeare."

"It's overdone," you say, crinkling your nose. "And girls would much rather read your own words." 

"So you think I should write Marie a letter?"

"If you really like her," you say. "Only write letters for girls you really like. Otherwise they lose their meaning."

Steve frowns. "I don't know if I should write her a letter, then."

Don't, you want to say. Don't write any of them letters.

You shuffle your papers into a stack. 

"Can we study now?" you ask.

"Oh, sure, yes. Sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing, Steve."

He shifts closer to you. His leg has stopped bouncing.

"Lemme take you out," he says. 

You nearly swallow your tongue. 

"Wh–what?"

"For ice cream," Steve clarifies. "Like we used to. Dairy Queen."

"Oh. Okay, sure. But after we study."

Steve beams. "I'll drive you."

Steve's dad had bought him the BMW as a birthday present this year—not that Richard Harrington actually knows when his own son's birthday is, considering the gift was three months early. Still, it's another point of pride for Steve and about all anybody talks about whenever his name comes up. Steve is the only person in your grade with a car. Junior girls hit him up for rides. You make yourself scarce when they do. 

You don't care. You liked Steve before the car. And the clothes. And the hair. 

Your throat feels tight. You want your best friend back. 

"Just us?" you check. 

You can't tell these days. Steve seems to hang out with everybody but you. You're shocked he'd even asked to study together. 

"Oh, sure," Steve says. "I just have to drop off Tommy and Carol first, okay?" 

You check your watch and close your book. 

"I have class," you lie. "I'll see you later." 

Steve catches your wrist. He looks at you and you're struck by how sweet his face is. It's not like you didn't understand why girls want him but it's Steve. Your Steve, who still sleeps with a nightlight and who framed a picture of a sports car he cut out from a magazine because he'd thought it would make him cooler (it didn't. You still tease him about it.) 

"Please," he says. "For helping me."

Your eyes slit. "I didn't help you to get stuff, Steve. I helped you because you're my friend."

Steve blinks like he's forgotten what it's like to be friends with someone just for the sake of being friends. 

"You're right," he agrees. "You're not like that. I'll tell Tommy and Carol to find another ride. It'll be just us. I promise."

You perk up at that. "Really?"

"Really. You can sit in the front with me and we'll play Bruce Springsteen, like we used to. Please?" 

"Okay, Steve." You ache. You’ve never been very good at telling him no. "I'll meet you in the parking lot."

And maybe… maybe your best friend is still in there after all.

Now

You ask your shift manager if you can work at the snack bar today. It's in the back and you won't have to deal with any game hogs. 

"You didn't put enough syrup in my slushie."

You might have overshot the perks, though. 

Slushie Girl's hair is bleach blonde and hairsprayed to God. You want to tell her that all that hairspray doesn't keep friends. Or brain synapses. 

"I don't make the slushie," you say for the third time. "That's how it comes out of the machine."

She shoots you a mean look. 

"I'm complaining to the manager."

You paste on a smile. 

"You do that. Have a nice day."

She finally walks away, probably on the hunt for your manager, who's definitely smoking a joint outside to avoid this exact situation. 

Dustin comes around the corner and this time, he's with the rest of his party. You smile. 

"Hey, Y/N!" Dustin greets.

Lucas waves at you. Max and Mike are arguing and therefore are in their own world. And there's their newest addition, El, whose story you're still not clear on, as well as Will, quiet as always. 

You lean your elbows on the countertop. 

"What'll it be, gang?"

"Six nachos and six slushies, please. One blue raspberry, three cherry, and two Coke."

You fill up the slushies first. Dustin dances on his toes. 

"So did you pick up the movie?" he asks.

"Oh." You try to smile. "I went there but I couldn't. I forgot my money. Pretty dumb of me."

Dustin accepts this with no argument. 

"Well, you can go back. They'll hold it for a few days."

You're never setting foot in there again, but you don't tell Dustin that. 

He takes his slushie and immediately starts drinking. 

"Slow down, dude. You'll get a brain freeze," you say. 

"You sound like Steve," Dustin informs you. "Doesn't Y/N sound like Steve?" 

Lucas nods. 

"Yup. They're both parents."

You feel queasy. You focus on making the nachos, the cheese pouring out thick and gooey. 

"Did you meet Steve?" Dustin asks. "You probably know him from high school, but he's different now."

"Yes," you say quietly. "I knew him."

"I promise he's different. Even Mike likes him, and Mike hated his guts. Right, Mike?"

Mike pauses in his animated discussion with Max and looks at you. 

"What?"

"I'm telling Y/N about how Steve is cool now," Dustin explains. 

"Oh." Mike shrugs. "He's fine. Much better now that he's not dating my sister."

"He's not?" you ask. "But they were in love. I–I mean, that's what I heard, at least."

"She dumped his ass," El says, and it sounds a little ridiculous in her soft monotone. 

Max scoffs, taking her Coke slushie. 

"Did you live under a rock? It was a huge thing."

"Now Steve is lame," Mike says with a snort. 

"Getting dumped doesn't make somebody lame," you say with an old ferocity you'd thought had disappeared. 

"Okay, jeez." Mike holds up his hands. "Steve's alright. He's different, that's for sure."

"He's our paladin," Lucas says. "A protector." 

Dustin nods eagerly.

You blink. "He protects you guys?"

Max elbows Lucas. You have no idea what that's about. El steps forward and smiles softly. 

"Yes," she says. "He's our babysitter."

"Aren't you guys freshmen? I thought you were too old for babysitters."

"Oh no, Steve doesn't get paid for it or anything," says Mike. "He just does it 'cause he has nothing else to do."

"That's not true!" Dustin argues. Then he shrugs. "Well, it's a little true. But he does like us. He's a good guy. He cares about his friends."

You bite your tongue, not wanting to reply to that. 

"That's great, guys. The girl, Robin? She seems pretty cool too."

"That's Steve's best friend," says Dustin. "She's great."

"Oh." You wince. "Best friend?" 

Dustin huffs. “Yeah. They don’t date. He won’t say why."

"Platonic with a capital P," Max confirms. “It’s obviously because he’s in love with somebody else.”

“Not Nancy!” Lucas protests.

“There are other girls besides Nancy, Sinclair.”

You busy yourself with serving the last set of nachos. The kids pull out crumpled bills and coins in return. You count the money and stack it directly into the register; you know there won't be any change. 

When you turn, they're still there. Dustin has his signature grin on, eyes squinty. 

"Yeees," you drag out. "Can I help you?"

"We need a favor," Lucas says. "Please."

"Hmm." You lean over the counter. "What's up?"

"They're showing Prince of Darkness on Friday," Dustin explains. "But it's rated R."

"So just sneak in. Isn't that what you guys did at Starcourt?" you ask.

"We had an inside man then. They're a lot stricter at the new one," Lucas frowns. "They ask for IDs 'cause some mom complained after her kid snuck in to watch Risky Business." 

"And why can't your babysitter take you?"

You sneer at the thought. Steve spending his Friday nights herding a bunch of adolescent teens into a movie theater. There's a reason you consider Dustin affectionately delusional. 

"He has a stupid date," Dustin groans. "He's a serial dater, Y/N. It's terrible. He gets lucky once and totally ditches us."

Now that sounds like the Steve you knew. 

"I see. I don't really like horror stuff."

"You don't have to stay!" Dustin insists. "You can watch whatever you want after we’re in. I'll pay you back for the ticket."

“This would be so much easier if Steve still worked at Scoops,” Mike grumbles.

You blank for a moment, the image of Steve in a sailor’s hat and those ridiculous shorts whiting your brain.

“Um,” you begin. “You know I don’t have a fancy BMW to cart you guys around in, right?”

“It’s cool. We’ll get there,” Max says.

“So?” Dustin bounces on his toes. “Sooo?”

You sigh. It’d been nice of Dustin to get you the movie, even though you’d chickened out and ran. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll get you guys in.”

Dustin pumps his fist. “Thanks, Y/N! You’re my favorite old person.”

You roll your eyes. “Funny. Any funnier, and I might rescind my help, Henderson.”

“Byeeee!”

They all disperse to the arcade. You wonder how on earth Steve got involved with them.

March 1983

“Okay, but if you had to choose.”

“Pass. I would literally rather swallow pennies than kiss Principal Coleman’s bald-ass head, Steve.”

Steve takes a triumphant swig of beer. “So you’re saying you’ve got the hots for Benny the janitor.”

“No!” you insist through giggles. “I don’t. God, you’re gross. Can’t believe I’m being treated like this on your birthday.”

“Exactly! My birthday.”

He rolls onto his side in his deck chair and nearly faceplants on the cement. You reach out, reaction time delayed.

“Steve!” you yell. “Careful.”

“I am, I am,” he mumbles, and rights himself on the chair. “Jus’ wanna see you better.”

“I keep telling you you need glasses.”

“I do not,” he whines. “My vision’s ten outta ten. Could a guy who needs glasses do this?”

He crumples up a Twinkies wrapper and throws it towards the garbage. The wind picks up and sends the wrapped into the pool. 

“Shit,” he says.

You belly laugh in delight.

“Wait, wait, redo. Go fish it outta there.”

“Oh, as if. I’m not going in there. I told you you need glasses. Even Mother Nature agrees.”

"She does not. Mother Nature thinks I'm a doll."

You hum and close your eyes. Alcohol always makes you sleepy. 

The chair scrapes against the concrete. You hear a crinkle of a chip bag. Those are your only warning before you’re crushed by two hundred pounds of drunk boy. 

“Steve!” You wheeze, squirming as his hair tickles your face. “Get off!”

"’M sleepy,” he mumbles.

“Well, don't sleep on me, weirdo.”

“‘S cold.”

“You run, like, a hundred degrees, don’t lie.”

He lifts his head. “So you’re saying I’m hot?”

“I’m saying all that booze cooked your brain,” you reply sweetly.

“I’ve been wounded,” he moans and plops onto your shoulder.

“Ugh.” You resign to your fate and lean back. Steve’s not actually that heavy; even drunk, he has a lot of control over his weight and he’s situated himself so he isn’t crushing anything important. No, you squirm underneath him for a very different reason. 

“Steeeeve,” you whine. “You’re gonna squish me into a pancake.”

“Can’t believe no one else came.”

You still. Steve’s face remains buried in your shoulder. His body is beside yours, and he has an arm slung over your belly.

“I didn’t—didn’t want a party,” he continues. “I always throw parties. I thought I’d do somethin’ different. An’ none of them even wished me a happy birthday. ‘Cept you.”

You rest your hand on the back of his hair. It’s wind-blown and messy from the drinks, free of his heady hair gel. You’ve never loved it more.

“Did you tell them your birthday is today?” you ask gently, even though you know he did.

“Yeah,” he says. “Told all of ‘em. Guess they weren’t listening.”

“I listen.”

Steve looks up at you. His eyes are glassy.

“God, I miss you,” he says.

You feel the wall you’ve built this year crumble, just a little. 

“I’m right here, Steve.”

“I know but—been a jerk lately. I know I have. You’re my best friend, okay? Nothing’ll change that. I–I love you so much.”

Your breath hitches. Steve barrels on, not noticing.

“And I’ll be better. We’ll hang out more. Not–not here, drunk. But for real. We’ll go to the movies. Y’wanna see a movie?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I wanna see a movie.”

“‘Kay, what movie? Anything you want. We’ll get popcorn and Raisinets.”

“You hate Raisinets,” you choke through a watery laugh.

“I’d eat Raisinets anytime with you.”

You lay there, in the dark, the only sound being the pool filter.

“Let’s watch the new James Bond.”

“Hmm, okay. But you’ll have to say the name eventually.”

Your nose crinkles. “I am not calling it by its name.”

His laugh is warm in your neck. 

You don’t tell Steve to get up again. He snuggles into you, leg over yours. You fall asleep like that, curled underneath him.

Now

“Wait.” Max stops. “Shouldn’t we have, like, a game plan?”

“Game plan?” El asks quietly.

“Yeah. Some of us aren’t so great at playing it cool.”

She stares at Lucas.

“I play it cool!” he squawks. “I am so cool!”

“Right.”

“Just let Y/N do the talking,” Will says. “She’s technically the adult so she should act like this is a conscious choice.”

You shrug. “Makes sense to me.”

Dustin beams. “This is gonna be great!”

“Or a total disaster,” Max says.

You go to the counter, the kids trailing behind like ducklings.

“Six tickets for Prince of Darkness, please,” you say. “And uh, one for Dirty Dancing.”

The attendant looks at you, then at the kids.

“Don’t you mean seven tickets for Prince of Darkness?” she asks. “It’s rated R.”

Shit. “Right, yes. Sorry. Seven tickets. And one for Dirty Dancing. We have another friend who’s late.”

“Uh-huh.” 

The attendant, whose bored expression you’ve recognized on your own face after long days in the arcade, hands you your tickets without any questioning. 

“I think we’re in the clear,” Lucas whispers when you enter the concession area. 

You wait for them to buy their snacks. Max persuades Lucas to let her mix M&Ms into their bucket of popcorn. He agrees and shuffles closer so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder while they share. 

“Okay, last stretch,” Mike says, shoveling a frighteningly large handful of sour worms into his mouth. “We just have to get past the ticket guy.”

Said ticket guy is a kid who can’t be much older than you. You think you might’ve gone to school together, but you’ve made it a point to eviscerate everything about high school from your mind.

“Hey,” you say, trying to act cool. Maybe you’re the one Max should’ve been worried about, instead of Lucas. “Uh, here are our tickets.”

He takes the tickets, then looks behind you.

“Prince of Darkness is only for people seventeen and older,” he says.

“I’m an adult, so I’m with them,” you explain. “I’m, like, their guardian?”

“Yeah, uh—” He hands you your tickets. “No can do. There needs to be an adult for each person under seventeen.”

“Come on,” you cajole. “They’re high schoolers. It’s not like they’re gonna be scarred for life watching some zombies, or whatever.”

He shrugs. “Rules are rules.”

“She’s an adult!” Dustin argues.

“Look, if you’re gonna hold up the line, I’m gonna have to—”

“Yo, Gillespie! That you?”

Dustin turns and lights up. The seven of you part for Steve Harrington and his date, a pretty strawberry blonde you think you had biology with.

“Harrington, man, what’s up!” 

Ticket Prick gets up to slam Steve into a bear hug. You barely resist an eye roll.

“Shit, I haven’t seen you in a year! Where’ve you been all this time? Hey, did you hear about that shit with Munson?”

Steve flinches. It’s a tiny movement, indiscernible to the trained eye. But it’s there all the same.

“Gillespie, c’mon. Don’t bring the party down with that,” Steve says, all sweet charm. 

“Sorry, sorry. Daisy,” he greets the girl attached to Steve’s arm.

“Gil,” she replies with a giggle. “You smell like popcorn butter.”

America’s future taxpayers. Terrifying. 

“Are you gonna let us in or not?” Max interrupts, arms folded. 

You feel a burst of pride.

Gil shoots her a dirty glare and puffs up, ready to fight a fourteen year old. Steve cuts in smoothly.

“Gillespie, listen. I know her.” He points to you. You bristle. “I can personally vouch that she’s just trying to do right by these kids. They wanted to see Prince of Darkness, y’know? Get away from the parents.”

“It’s a sick film,” Gil agrees. “You seen it?”

No, of course Steve hadn’t seen it. He hates horror. 

“Planning on it,” Steve says, the ultimate image of playing it cool. “Look, you remember sneaking into the movies. Fast Times? Ring any bells?”

Max rolls her eyes. You’re inclined to do the same.

Gil laughs dopily, and nudges Steve. “Hell yeah, I do. That was a crazy night, Harrington.”

Steve smiles thinly. “Sure was. So whaddya say? For old times’ sake?”

Gil considers your little troupe. Then he shrugs.

“Why not. Manager’s not here anyway.”

He takes the tickets and tears them to stubs, then gives them back.

“Theater six. On your left. Enjoy.”

The kids stampede into the left theater wing. You hang back with your own ticket. 

“Appreciate it, man,” Steve says, all smiles. “Take care, alright?”

“Hey, you too, Harrington! We gotta catch up!”

Steve and Daisy go in. You expect them to walk right past you, and Daisy does, predictably. But Steve stops.

“I’ll catch up, okay?” he tells her. “Find us some good seats?”

She paws at him a little, then goes, sodas in hand. You stiffen as Steve walks and stops three feet away from you. 

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that. Gil’s an asshole.”

“I know. He yawned during my poetry reading sophomore year. And then you guys went to the movies together.”

Steve shrinks. “Your poems were great.”

You’re suddenly exhausted.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“I just… I wanted to see you. Say hi.”

“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Hi.”

“You forgot your movie,” he says. “The other day.”

“I didn’t want it that much.”

“Dustin said you looked everywhere for it.”

“Well, in the end, it didn’t really matter,” you say. “Not enough to stay.”

“Y/N—”

“I think your date’s waiting for you,” you interrupt. “Better get back to her. Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation.”

Steve makes a noise like he’s been wounded. You turn on your heel before you can think better of it. 

“Wait.” He catches your wrist. Steve’s grip is light, like you’re something precious to hold. You wrench your arm away. “Y/N, I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you ask. “For forgetting me? I didn’t expect you to remember, Steve.”

“I didn’t forget you,” he insists. “I could never forget you. I wasn’t—please, can I just explain?”

“I don’t need your explanations,” you snap. The hurt corrodes your tongue like acid. “I know what happened. We were both there. You left.”

Steve’s eyes are huge and dark. He looks like you just stabbed him in the heart, and that makes you feel worse. You’d thought telling him how much it hurts would put you back together, but all it did was break you more.

So you run. Again. 

You slam through a back exit and rip your ticket into a million pieces. The wind is cold and unforgiving. Your eyes sting. 

You call out sick for two days in a row. You kind of expect to get fired, but then again, people have been leaving Hawkins and if you’re not here to serve the masses their slushies, who will be?

So, after lying in bed not thinking about movies and strawberry blonde girls and how sick you are of this town, you get up and put on your arcade vest.

Now it is two in the afternoon. You’d heard it was supposed to snow today.

Robin eyes the snack counter like it holds the next plague outbreak. You don't blame her; you make it a point to wash up to your elbows after work.

"Slushie?"

She looks at you like she’d forgotten you were there. "What?"

You point a thumb at the machine. "Are you here for a slushie?"

"Oh. No, sorry. Red dye makes me insane in the brain. Steve actually—"

Robin stops, grimaces. So he's told her. Probably everything, if the kids had been telling the truth. 

You're honestly surprised she's here. Unless it’s to, like, swirlie you in the vat of artificial cheese. 

"Are you here to drown me in nacho cheese?" you ask.

Robin's eyes go wide as dinner plates. "What? No!"

"Just checking." You lean against the counter. "What can I do for you, Robin?" 

Robin suddenly looks like she's never interacted with a human being before. You like her a lot. Steve probably does too. 

"I came to drop off your movie." She holds the tape over the counter like it's a pool of lava. 

"But I didn't pay for it." You shove your hand in your jean pocket; you only have a couple dollars on you. "I guess I can get you the money tom—"

"It's on the house. For a fellow Molly fan."

Robin wiggles the tape with two fingers. You take it and wait for a catch. There is none. 

"Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do that."

"Actually, it wasn't me," she confesses. "I'm just the mailman."

You prepare to hand it back but Robin shakes her head. 

"He's not going to pop out of the slushie machine, okay? He's just trying to make it up to you."

"He doesn't need to make it up to me," you bite, except those aren’t the words you mean. "Why does he even care? We're not in high school anymore."

Robin smiles a sad smile. 

"I know," she says. "We’re not. I know he should've known to fix things earlier. He's received a lot of blows to the head, though, so he's still catching up."

The thought turns your stomach. More? More you weren’t there to protect him from?

"He doesn't owe me anything," you say and wave the tape again. "You can take it back and leave it for somebody else."

"Y/N, I know we don't know each other, like, at all. But it's important to me you know that Steve cares about you, because you’re important to him. And you knew him way before I did, and you probably know a lot of stuff I don't, and that's good because he has a friend like me, but he should also have a friend like you too, Y/N."

"I don't want to be his friend," you mumble. 

"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured. But I don't think that's a confession he should hear secondhand."

You look at her, stunned. She's such a clever girl. You hope she treats Steve well.

"If you two are—"

"We're not," she says, like this is a regular explanation she goes through. "Steve and I are friends. Steve has crashed and burned with every single date since his fall from regency. Steve is the best person I've ever met." 

"Yeah, I’ve heard. You and Dustin are his biggest fans."

Robin snorts. "Trust me, I'm not proud of it."

You shake your head. Your eyes feel hot. 

"This town is so shit," you say. 

"Yeah," Robin agrees. "It really fucking is. But I'm not asking you to give this town a second chance. Just him."

"Why are you trying so much?" you ask. "You don't even know me."

Robin shrugs. "No, but you're the one person Steve used to be friends with who's not an asshole, and I think us non-assholes need to band together."

"I can sometimes be an asshole."

"Me too. So are those little dweebs. How about calling ourselves the Semi-Assholes Club?" 

You laugh. "We'll get jackets."

"With partially drawn butts on the backs," Robin says with a giggle. 

You look at the tape in your hand. 

"Does Steve like John Hughes?" 

"He does. He's a total sap for those. He thinks he's in his own coming-of-age movie because he's delusional."

He sounds perfect. He sounds like the friend you loved. 

"I did want to watch this one," you say. 

"It won't hurt you to," Robin promises. 

You suppose not.

December 1984

You don't believe the whispers. All week, the rumor mill spins tales of Billy Hargrove finally pushing the King off his throne. There's no way he'll show his face, a girl at the adjacent lunch table astutes. I sure as fuck wouldn't.

Steve Harrington is a loser. Steve Harrington got dumped for Jonathan Byers. Steve Harrington may as well be dead, and on and on. 

Every line gets you angrier. A boy who sits behind you in chemistry taps his pencil like he always does. Tap, tap, tap. 

Halfway through class, you snap at him to quit it. He does, but not without a tinge of embarrassment. You’re so angry this year. Angry at your loneliness, angry at the unfairness of said loneliness. You might’ve done this to yourself, and that fact only gets you angrier.

You see Nancy Wheeler in the hallways with Jonathan Byers, and the confirmation of that rumor should make you happy. It doesn't. 

A week later, most of the excitement has died down. Everybody’s moved onto the next big thing, which is to deduce who fucked in Vice Principal White's office. One look at V.P. White, and it had been decided that it can't have been White himself. 

You can't care less. Once upon a time you might’ve laughed about it with a friend, but you don't have any more of those, and high school is bullshit with or without them. So.

Steve walks in twenty five minutes into the period. Mrs. Kaplan gives him a downright beastly glare and demands to know where he had been. 

"I'm sorry," is all he says. "If you give me detention, I understand."

There are a few snickers that rub at an old hurt, one that had flared up whenever somebody dared to make fun of your best friend. It doesn't bother me, he'd said, and you'd known it was a lie. 

It bothers me, you’d replied, and Steve had hugged you tight.

Mrs. Kaplan seems more stunned Steve hadn't swaggered past her like a peacock escaped from the zoo and lets him go sit down without a fight. He takes the only empty desk, two rows across from you. You stare. You can't not. 

Half of his face looks like it was mashed in a garbage disposal. It's purple and a sickly yellow. His eye and lip are still swollen. You stare and stare. You feel queasy. 

Billy had done that. You're so angry. You think you might never get past this grief, this loss of a once permanent fixture in your life. 

No one wished Steve a happy birthday this year, you realize out of nowhere.

You stare and stare and stare until Steve looks right back. You're blindsided by thick guilt, like blinking through a milkshake. And then the familiar curl of anger returns because why the fuck should you feel guilty? You aren't the one who fucked everything up, who mascerated this good thing. Steve did this to himself. Steve deserves to walk the halls alone. It's Steve's fault. 

But when you look at him, at his raw wounds, at his bruised knuckles, you know that he already believes he deserves every punch Billy Hargrove gave him. 

You hate Steve Harrington. But you really wish you'd been there to drive him to the hospital. 

Now (And Forever)

The tape sits buried in your drawer for three days. You don’t know what Family Video’s return policy is, but you hope you’re not racking up late fees. You doubt name dropping Dustin will work again.

It’s Saturday when you decide to watch Pretty in Pink. You remove the video from its sleeve. An envelope falls out.

The front has your name printed in squished, loopy script. You remember January at Steve’s house, a stack of thank-you cards courtesy of his mother awaiting the Harringtons’ sign-off. Steve’s hand would cramp and you’d take over while he made grilled cheese for the both of you. Love, The Harringtons, and there was no love in that house, but you think maybe Steve loved enough to make up for it. 

Hi, the letter begins. I hope you’re good. Robin told me you’re going to Hawkins State.

That’s fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you. Are you still writing poetry? I liked that one you wrote about the birds who shared a branch and kept each other warm. I still have it in my notebook in my room.

I’m sorry for the other night. I’m sorry for every night since freshman year, honestly. I’m kind of a dumbass, but you know that, so it doesn’t really excuse anything. I think I’ve actually lost brain cells since we drifted apart.

You crumple the corner, suddenly hot with anger. Who keeps telling him he’s dumb? You want names.

I didn’t forget you, you know. I got scared and I thought maybe I could ease into it, but then you recognized me and… well. I don’t blame you for running.

Anyway. I’m talking too much about myself, when there’s nothing to say. I’m really sorry about what I did, or, actually, what I didn’t do. Somebody told me I was living on autopilot, and that it wasn’t really living at all. I think it was you. 

I’m not living on autopilot anymore. I woke up. And I realized that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I love Robin and the kids and this little family that has apparently invayd invaded your life too. Sorry about that. They never leave and they eat all your food. Good luck. 

But I miss you. I always have.

Shit happened these last few years that I’ll tell you about one day, if you want. I’d rather not, though, because you’ve always been the paranoiac (like that one? Robin said it’s an SAT word) of the two of us and I feel like this would just make you even more of one. But I will tell you, if you want to hear it. I want to tell you everything. I want you to tell me everything too. Like we used to.

I want you to tell me how college is going. Who the annoying jerks in your classes are so I can go beat them up (kidding). I want you to stop by to rent movies so I can lend them for free and you’ll yell at me about taking advantage of fre friendships. 

Fuck, I miss you. It’s always been there, bubbling below the surface. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry I didn’t write this sooner. I know you said writing is how we express things we can’t say. You were right. You always are. Can’t believe I forgot that. 

It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends. I mean, it hurts, but I respect it. I understand. Most days, I can’t believe people can bear to be around me. But then I hear your voice in my head, telling me that most people are shitheads and that I’m golden and. Well, I don’t know if I believe that, but you were right that most of the people I surrounded myself with were shitheads. Except you, of course. And then I went ahead and fucked that up.

I’ve been working on finding the non-shitheads of the world. I think I’m doing pretty well. And I wrote this because I realized that while I will probably end up buried in this fucking town, you’re going to do something incredible. And nothing incredible ever happens in Hawkins, so I figure you’ll be far away when you do it. 

I didn’t want to miss this chance to write things I never said. So here they are. And you can do whatever you want with them. You’ve always been the best of the two of us. I trust you.

You should watch Dirty Dancing. You’ll like it. I did. I’ll see it again if you want. I’ll watch anything with you.

Did you know there’s another Bond movie coming out in the summer? We could watch that one together too. If you wanted more time to decide.

Sincer

Lo

Your friend,

Steve

You don’t bother ejecting the tape. You run all the way to the bus stop, Steve’s letter in hand. 

You have to see him. No other thoughts register except that one. You have to know if Steve wrote these words because he can’t say them or because you won’t listen.

It isn’t too late when you get to Loch Nora. The neighborhood is dead, which is weird. Steve’s house looks frozen in time: his parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. You wonder if they’ve ever come back since you’ve been gone. You wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no.

There’s a tarp over the pool. The gate is locked with a chain. You can’t sneak in through the fence like you used to. Not that you would. You don’t think strangers can sneak through pool gates.

You knock on the door three times. And wait.

Steve’s car is in the driveway, a duller burgundy than when he first got it. There are a few scratches in the paint. No longer a prized possession. Maybe well-loved instead.

The door swings open. 

Steve says your name like a prayer. You swallow and steel your spine. 

“I got your letter,” you say.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is damp like he’s just showered. It curls around his ears. Waves of want hit you. 

“I don’t want to be friends,” you continue before he can speak. “I don’t—I can’t do that again.”

Steve’s mouth draws into the saddest frown you’ve ever seen.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that.”

His brows knit. “What?”

“I…” You pull out the letter and wave it. “Did you mean it? Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers. It’s like a shout in the quiet street. “I meant it.”

“Like a friend?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Will you love me like a friend forever?” you ask. 

“Always.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I love you as something more,” you blurt, watery. “I have for a long time.”

You hear the door shut. This is it: your heart on the line, all for nothing—

“Then I’ll love you as something more back,” Steve says. “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”

And he holds you the way you’d held him so many times. You inhale and wrap your arms around his neck. You’ve got an iron grip around the letter. Tears slip down your cheeks.

“I missed you,” you confess.

Steve nods against your shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds a little wet. “I missed you too.”

“You were wrong,” you say into his neck.

“Hmm?”

You pull back to look at Steve.

“Incredible things do happen in Hawkins.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve smiles, cheeks blotchy. “Like what?”

“We found each other again.”

[geekgirl-1717]

Cuddling with... One Piece Characters!

Part 2 (Franky, Nami, Robin, Ace, Sabo, Shanks)

TW: Non-sexual nudity for Robin's part and slightly suggestive jokes for Shanks' part, but otherwise SFW. Gender-neutral reader, no use of (y/n)

I kinda got carried away so some of this is just how they express affection in general ? But also there's cuddling too lol

How (more) One Piece characters would cuddle with you!

Franky: At the beginning of your relationship, he’s a little hesitant to cuddle with you. He’s much larger than you, not to mention that most of him is made of metal, which makes him worry. What if he accidentally hurts you? Is his body too hard or cold to cuddle you “properly?” But with enough reassurance, you’ll turn Franky into a cuddle machine! Due to his sheer size, he usually ends up spooning you or holding you in some way, like against his chest, but he will never turn down a chance to be the little spoon. This man is absolutely shameless in everything he does so he has no qualms about cuddling in front of others either.

Sleep was a precious luxury when sailing the seas. Getting a proper rest each night was never guaranteed, as any number of threats could have you springing out of bed and into the heat of battle at a moment’s notice.

It was a perfectly calm night. No freak weather incidents, no resonate booms of cannonfire, no stomps or shouts from your lively crew. Even better, you were curled up in the embrace of your boyfriend. You laid against his sturdy chest, his massive hands engulfing nearly your entire body.

Which only made it all the more frustrating when you couldn’t fall asleep.

You suppressed the urge to let out a groan, instead directing your gaze up towards Franky. His eyes were closed, but his breathing was somewhat shallow, leading you to believe he may not have been asleep either. You decided to take your chances.

“Hey Franky, are you awake?”

You whispered softly, absentmindedly tracing your finger across his collarbone.

His eyes didn’t open, but a large thumb started stroking up and down your back.

“Yeah. Can’t sleep either, baby?”

You let out a hum in affirmation. Franky slowly opened his eyes, flashing you a sleepy grin, one that you happily returned.

You both remained like that for a while, basking in the silence and each other’s love-stricken gazes. Finally, you spoke up.

“Can we switch? Wanna hold you.”

Franky chuckled, jostling you slightly from your position on top of him.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”

He gently slid you off his chest, shifting so that he was laying on his side. You wrapped your arms around his waist, smushing your face into his broad back.

You never minded that your boyfriend was a cyborg, but you secretly loved moments like this. His back was so warm and soft compared to the rest of his metal body, and you couldn’t help but snuggle deeper into him.

Franky was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Franky was someone that radiated confidence from his very being, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t ever worry about how you perceived his unusual body. Feeling your warm breath fanning across his spine, your hair tickling his skin, the sensation of you pressing into the more sensitive flesh of his back, made him feel truly human again.

A large, imposing, audacious cyborg being spooned by his lover, whose arms could barely reach around the length of his body, would be a ridiculous sight for anyone else to behold. But the two of you were in absolute bliss, your prior sleeplessness forgotten as you both drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Nami: She loves to cuddle with the both of you facing each other, especially when you’re sleeping together. There’s been too many times in her life where she’s woken up alone, away from anything that’s ever felt familiar to her. Now, you’re the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes, reminding her that everything's real, that she’s safe now. She also likes any cuddling position where you’re holding her, whether she’s sitting in your lap, being the little spoon, or laying against your chest. She views cuddling as something more intimate and vulnerable, so she prefers to have it happen in private.

Sunlight slowly began to filter through the little porthole, scattering sunbeams across the room.

Nami was roused from her sleep as the offendingly bright light hit her eyes. She frowned in discomfort initially, wishing she could have gotten a few more precious hours of sleep. But as her vision adjusted and she took in the sight before her, her heart softened.

You, still slumbering peacefully. Your hair was a little mussed from sleep, your mouth hung open slightly as you breathed deeply, and your sleepwear was ruffled and wrinkled. But to Nami, you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on, more precious than any treasure she could dream of.

Your arms were wrapped around Nami’s waist, but she pulled back slightly from your grasp so she could get a better view of you. Unable to help herself, she reached out to brush her hand softly across your cheek, almost as if to affirm she wasn’t still dreaming.

The action stirred you from your sleep, but just you smiled and leaned into Nami’s touch.

“Good morning, love.”

Your voice was a bit raspy, but it was music to Nami’s ears.

“Good morning to you, too. Sorry for waking you.”

You shook your head, your eyes finally fluttering open.

“It’s okay.”

You pulled Nami closer to you, placing a kiss on her temple and resting your chin on the top of her head. She eagerly snuggled into your embrace, her arms coming to circle around your waist as well.

“Wanna just go back to sleep?”

You asked softly.

You weren’t quite ready to leave the warm comfort of your and Nami’s shared bed. Luckily, Nami seemed to feel the same way. She merely nodded in response, already drifting back to sleep.

This little routine of yours has become so normal, so mundane, and yet Nami cherishes every morning she wakes up next to you like it’s the first. To hold and be held by you reminds her that she’s finally escaped the horrors of her past, that she’s living out the dreams she’s had since she was a young child, and that she gets to do it all with you. And that’s worth more than anything money could buy.

Robin: Hold this woman. Please. You would think her Devil Fruit powers would make her the perfect big spoon, and of course if you want to be held by her, she would be more than happy to indulge you. But please make sure you hold her, too. She’s desperately craving the comfort and intimacy. However, it’s difficult for her to vocalize her needs and as such, you’ll have to initiate the majority of cuddling. A very common way you cuddle is Robin sitting in your lap leaning back into your chest while she reads, making sure to turn the pages slowly so you can read over her shoulder. Another private cuddler for the most part, but wouldn’t mind small displays of affection like leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“Darling, I’m going to take a bath. Would you like to join?”

Robin peeked her head into the room where you had been laying in your bed. You had been on the verge of taking a nap, but practically jumped at the opportunity to spend time with your girlfriend.

“Sure! Let me just grab a few things.”

You grabbed a change of clothes and some toiletries before taking Robin’s hand and letting her lead you across the ship.

When you and Robin first started dating, intimacy and vulnerability was something she struggled with. She had learned to live without much affection from a very young age, so she wasn’t used to giving or receiving it.

But you were patient and understanding, giving Robin all the time that she needed. Now, you both treasured the small moments of closeness you were able to carve out amidst your tumultuous lives as pirates.

Bathing together had quickly become one of your favorite ways to spend time with each other. Even when you two would try to read together in the aquarium bar or share a cup of tea on the deck, it was never a guarantee your peaceful moments wouldn’t be disturbed by one of your crewmates, and Robin was not one to indulge in PDA. Aside from sleeping together at night, taking a bath was the only way the two of you could cuddle without interruption.

After rinsing yourselves under the showerheads first and drawing a warm bath for yourselves, you settled into the water first, leaning back against the rim of the tub. Robin climbed in shortly after, resting her back against your chest. She let out a deep sigh, the tension practically melting off of her shoulders.

Although to anyone else it seemed that Robin was always calm and composed, as her lover you knew that she often kept her guard up, not allowing herself to be fully vulnerable. But alone with you, she was granted a rare moment to truly relax.

Wordlessly, you went about your usual routine, reaching for bottles of shampoo and conditioner and a bar of soap. You laughed softly to yourself when you recalled the first time you asked Robin to do this with you.

“Take a bath… together? My, you’re being rather bold today, aren’t you?”

She had teased, making your face heat up as you realized the implications of your words.

“N-no, nothing like that! I mean, not that I don’t want that- but I just thought, maybe uh- you’d want someone to help wash your back?”

You fumbled for any excuse you could think of. Truly, you had just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. Neither of you brought up the fact that Robin could easily wash her own back with the help of her Devil Fruit ability, and to this day that fact remained unacknowledged.

You started with Robin’s hair, gently massaging shampoo into her scalp and brushing conditioner through the ends of her long, dark tresses. Then, you moved to wash her back, though you eventually devolved to just massaging the tense muscles. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses on her bare shoulders and neck from time to time, and Robin’s heart fluttered with each gentle press of your lips to her skin.

Even as the water grew tepid and your skin began to prune, you both remained in the bath. Your arms had found their way around Robin’s waist, her hands coming to settle on top of your own.

“Love you.”

You mumbled into her skin, finally breaking the peaceful silence. Robin turned her head to rest her face in the crook of your neck.

“Love you more, darling. Thank you.”

Ace: Not unlike his younger brother, Ace loves cuddling and physical affection. If you say you want to cuddle, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing and have you in his arms in a heartbeat. The rest of the Whitebeard pirates tease him for the way you have the infamous “Fire-Fist” wrapped around your finger, but neither of you are bothered by their words. He likes to have you resting against his side or chest, but also loves laying his head in your lap. Run your fingers through his hair and he’s a goner. When he falls into one of his sudden sleeping fits, you’re always there to lay him against your shoulder or across your lap.

The Moby Dick was as lively as ever, with alcohol flowing endlessly and the sound of drunken laughter and sea shanties filling the night air.

As much as you loved indulging in the festivities, it could get a bit overwhelming at times.

You had snuck away from the party a few minutes ago, making your way to the ship’s stern. You could still hear the ruckus of your crewmates, but it was much more muted now. You were sitting with your back against the ship’s railing, letting the sound of crashing waves soothe your senses. At first, the cool breeze felt refreshing on your flushed cheeks, as you were still a bit drunk yourself, but soon you felt a shiver wrack your spine.

“Hey sweetheart, you alright?”

Perfect timing.

You opened your eyes with a smile, instantly recognizing Ace’s voice.

“Mhm, I’m good. Just need a little breather.”

Ace made his way over to you, plopping down beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulder. You instinctively snuggled into him, resting your head against his chest. Despite his lack of shirt and the chill of the evening air, Ace’s skin was almost hot to the touch. Thanks to his Devil Fruit, your boyfriend often acted as your personal space heater, a role he was happy to take on.

You let out a contented sigh as you warmed up in Ace’s embrace. He let out a chuckle and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Comfortable?”

He teased. You looked up at him, your smile never having left your face.

“Very. You’re really hot, you know?”

You said with a wink. Ace laughed out loud this time. He tried to put on a suave smirk, but you could see a hint of blush across his freckled cheeks.

“Oh, I know sweetheart.”

You both giggled at this, grinning at each other like two idiots in love. You eventually settled into a comfortable silence, Ace’s arm never leaving your shoulder. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you eventually felt Ace rest his head on top of yours.

The music and laughter continued in the background, and as much as you delighted in Ace’s presence, you didn’t want to keep him from the fun.

“Ace, honey, you can go back to the party if you want. I’ll come join you guys again soon.”

First, there was only silence. Then, Ace let out a snore above you.

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself again. Of course, he has fallen asleep. Whether it was due to his narcolepsy or the exhaustion of drinking and partying, you weren’t sure. But you always cherished the moments when Ace would fall asleep on you.

Gently, you shifted Ace so that his head was now in your lap. You removed his hat and placed it on his chest so you could run your fingers through his dark locks.

From this position, you had a perfect view to admire Ace’s features. The way his bangs fell on his forehead, the constellation of freckles across his cheeks, the soft smile he wore even while he was sleeping.

Your back would surely start to ache from sitting against the railing, and your legs would probably end up falling asleep from Ace’s weight on them, but seeing Ace so at peace in your embrace made it all worth it.

Sabo: The ASL brothers just love to cuddle, what can I say? This man would hold you like a giant stuffed animal and refuse to let you go until he says so. The chaotic and uncertain life of a revolutionary means time to cuddle is exceedingly rare, so any opportunity you two can get is savored. Ultimately, Sabo’s not picky on how you guys cuddle, but he would favor arrangements that let him put his face in your hair. He finds your scent so comforting, especially after a difficult day.

Your eyes slowly cracked open as you awoke from your slumber. The room was silent and the sun hadn’t even begun to peak over the horizon yet, but your body knew instinctively it was time to wake up.

The life of a revolutionary was exhausting in many ways, but the hope of creating a better, more just world was enough to pull you out of bed each day to endure whatever grueling training or expedition was planned.

That, and knowing that every new sunrise meant another day of waking up with the love of your life. It was a precious gift, especially given the dangerous nature of a revolutionary's life. You loved Sabo, and he loved you, but it was only under the gentle spell of sleep, away from the terrors and turmoils of war, that you two could fully bask in each other’s comfort.

The object of your affections was currently still fast asleep, his arms draped loosely around your waist with his face pressed into your hair, lulled into slumber by your familiar scent. You wiggled in his grasp, turning so the two of you were face to face.

You always loved waking up before Sabo so you could steal a few brief moments to admire him. The only time you saw the young Chief of Staff truly at peace was asleep in the safety and comfort of your shared bed. You could never resist reaching a hand out to gently trace along his scar, a sight you found both saddening and beautiful at the same time.

You spared one last glance at your boyfriend before you rolled over again, shifting towards the side of the bed so you could get up and start preparing for the day.

You had barely moved an inch before the grip around your waist tightened, a strong pair of arms yanking you backwards. Sabo’s hold on you remained firm as he slung a leg over yours and buried his head into your shoulder, his whole body almost enveloping yours.

You huffed, but you couldn’t fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips. You gave a half-hearted wiggle, pretending like you were trying to escape Sabo’s grasp when really you wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep in his embrace.

“Sabo, love, we have to get up.”

Sabo only shook his head in response, his blonde hair tickling your bare skin. He wound his arms around you even tighter, almost squeezing the breath out of your lungs. Sabo snuggled into you like a child clinging to their beloved teddy bear.

“Jus’ a few more minutes.”

He mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes.

And who were you to deny him?

Shanks: Believe it or not, he’s actually a little hesitant to cuddle or hold you at the beginning of your relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be close to you, but age-old insecurities about his arm arise when you first get together. However, with lots of communication, reassurance, and love, you’ll turn Shanks into a cuddle fiend. He likes having you in his lap or resting against his chest. We know this man is shameless, so get ready for a lot of PDA. Shanks likes drinking, and he likes having you sit in his lap, so having you sit in his lap while drinking? Perfect! You’re in a public tavern with tons of people around? No worries!

“Shanks, honey, you gotta help me out here.”

Your voice was exasperated and strained as you struggled to keep both yourself and your intoxicated husband upright. Said husband was seemingly unaware of your plight, swaying to and fro with each clumsy step, leaning his full weight into where his arm was slung around your shoulder.

You nearly toppled over as Shanks leaned in to press a sloppy kiss against your cheek, laughing jovially as he did.

“I love you too, honey!”

You couldn’t help but smile along with him, your heart fluttering at such a genuine display of affection in spite of your previous annoyance.

After a somewhat perilous trek, you finally made it back to the Red Force with you and your husband thankfully unscathed. You gently guided Shanks to sit on your shared bed in the captain’s quarters, taking a moment to catch your breath. By this point, your clothes and hair had become disheveled and you could feel a thin layer of sweat accumulating from the effort it took to haul Shanks back to the ship. This, however, did nothing to deter your husband, who was currently gazing at you with such raw devotion and tenderness in his eyes that it made you falter.

You blushed and shyly turned your head away from Shanks, which only made him chuckle again. Despite having been married for years, he had the ability to feel like you were falling in love with him all over again.

You sifted through the dresser near the bed, pulling out a set of sleepwear for the both of you. As you approached Shanks, the heavy smell of alcohol lingered in the air, making you scrunch your nose up. He really needed a shower, and so did you to be honest, but you shuddered at the thought of washing him in this state. You had barely made it to the ship in one piece, but trying to keep Shanks upright on a wet, slippery floor sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

I’ll just wash the sheets tomorrow.

You conceded, moving to discard your current outfit in favor of more comfortable pajamas. You turned your head back to see Shanks gaping at you. He looked almost sheepish, as though he were witnessing something he shouldn’t be despite having seen you in various states of undress more times than he could count, and now it was your turn to giggle at his flustered state.

Once you had finished changing, you moved on to your husband, grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. He complied easily, his abashed expression quickly being replaced by a smug grin.

“Oh? Just can’t keep your hands off me can you, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you tugged a nightshirt over Shanks’ head. Ignoring his suggestive smirk and wiggling eyebrows, you moved on to tugging off his shoes and pants. Shanks gave a teasing, low whistle in response.

“Wow, gettin’ right to business, are we? Not sure why you put my shirt back on, but I guess we can make it work-“

He was cut off by you flinging his pajama pants at his face. You could hear his muffled chuckles through the fabric.

“Put your pants on, pervert. We’re going to bed.”

“Again, not sure why I need my pants then-“

“To sleep, Shanks. We’re going to sleep.”

It wasn’t long before the two of you settled into bed. Even in his tipsy state, Shanks’ arm instinctively reached out to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest where you belonged. For all his eagerness earlier, Shanks seemed to fall asleep almost instantly, but not before murmuring sweetly in your ear.

“G’night baby, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[st4rfckerz]

Farmboy | Farmhand!Anakin Skywalker x Farmers!daughter

word count: 4.1k

warnings: MDNI 18+, oral (male receiving), face fucking (if you squint), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, slow(ish) buildup, not proofread

summary: Anakin is your family's farmhand and after inviting him to dinner, you can't keep your hands to yourself

Your family owned a farm out West, not far from the outskirts of town. It was quiet, as farms often are. The land was hilly, rolling out as far as you could see. The sun was shining, and the blue sky was bright with few clouds in it. The sound of horses and the wind rustling through the trees was all you heard. The air was crisp, and there was a slight tang of wildflowers.

Anakin was one of the farmhands that your family had hired a few months ago, a man who was quiet but skilled. As one of their hired hands, he was responsible for helping with the maintenance of the farm's livestock and machinery. His primary role was to ensure everything ran smoothly, which meant keeping the animals fed and watered while fixing broken machinery when needed.

It was midday when you approached him in the garden shed with a worried expression on your face. "Ani, I need your help. The sheep pen collapsed, and I can't find any tools nearby." Panic was evident in your voice, hinting at the potential consequences of leaving the sheep unattended for too long. Anakin followed you back to the dimly lit barn and you found the sheep wandering around their stalls, bleeting softly.

"I see," he muttered looking at the pen, he glanced over where the sheep were grazing. "I hope nothing else broke." he says under his breath, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of damage. He walked forward, whistling for the sheep that were scattered, and they came to him. He began leading them towards their pen, some were very fussy about it and didn’t want to go, yet he remained calm and gentle.

"Don't worry, I'll fix it," Anakin assured you, stepping over the fence and rummaging through the debris left by the fallen wood.

"You need me to help with anything?" you stand near him awkwardly, not sure what to do.

“Nope. I got it under control,” He said calmly, continuing to lead the sheep. You admired his patience and his ability to stay so level headed. "You can just sit there and look pretty while I get this done." Anakin shoots you a slick smile that makes your insides turn a little.

"I won't be bothering you?" you ask as you sit down on a bale of hay.

"You won't be bothering me at all sweetheart," He says, his eyes traveled over your body and he smirked at you. "You can be my moral support." He leans against the aged wall of the barn. His stance was relaxed, very casual as he was being nonchalant, but with you he was a little different. Something about you made him like this.

Anakin couldn't help but notice how good you looked in their simple dress, its hemline brushing against your thighs, revealing just enough skin to drive him wild. The sunset cast a warm, golden light over your body, creating a delicate glowy outline around your figure. It was almost like the sun was wrapping itself around you.

"You know you could stay for supper if you'd like," you suggest, breaking the silence of the barn. "I'm sure my folks won't mind." He watched as you leaned back on the bale of hay, and he couldn't help but notice your dress riding up a little. It was a small thing to notice, but he saw it.

Your dress wasn't that short, by any means, but the way it rode up on your legs was enough to make Anakin notice you. His gaze drifted down to your legs, and back up to your face.

"Oh I don't know, I don't wanna intrude or anything-" You smiled and cut him off, stopping him in his tracks.

"Please Ani? Just this once?" You walked over to him, and with that sweet tone in your voice, you were playing him like a fiddle. It was clear that your invitation was genuine, you wanted him to stay so you could keep his company. He smiled at you and looked away from your eyes for a moment. When he looked back at you, he was slightly speechless. The words were caught in his throat, and he couldn't speak, he wasn't used to someone that could make him flustered.

"Well, alright I s'pose I could join you." Anakin smiles. "What's mama bear fixin' up tonight?"

he smirked at you, his expression was playful, but you could tell he was serious. You laughed lightly at the silly nickname he often uses for you mother.

“She’s making beef stew, with biscuits. All from scratch, too.” you explain. "And there's fresh apple pie for dessert." His smile showed he was interested, and he couldn't help but admire your beauty. You looked like a little doll, with sweet doe eyes that could disarm any man.

"Then I'll be there." His voice had a masculine yet flirty quality to it, and it sent shivers down your spine. It was like music to your ears.

"Good, I'll see you later farmboy." You tease, knocking his hip with your own as you walked past him. You felt his eyes devouring you whole, looking at your sweet face and the sway of your hips.

As he continues to fix the pen, he can't help but think about the upcoming dinner. He's never had dinner with you and your family before, so he wondered how it would go. He didn't know if he'd be welcome, but you said they wouldn't mind, and you're pretty much like a little princess in their eyes so it shouldn't go wrong at all.

The evening rolled around, you were sitting at the table waiting for him, ready for the dinner to begin. Your family was already seated around the table, discussing various things. They all seemed pretty jovial, and you could hear the occasional laughter, as well as bits of conversation.

You looked around and expected to see Anakin walking through the door at any second, yet he was a bit late which was out of character for him.

Just as you thought he might've bailed last minute, Anakin's voice draws your attention towards the door, where he was finally walking in. His expression had a hint of embarrassment, since he was later than he thought he'd be. He had a shy yet sheepish look on his face, as if he expected you or your family to reprimand him.

"Sorry," he said quietly, looking at you, "I'm a bit late."

"Ani! I was afraid you flaked out on us." you joke as you abruptly got up from your seat to greet him. When Anakin saw you get up and come closer to him, he was initially confused as to why. But then you envelope him in a tight hug, catching him completely off guard. He didn't know how to respond, as he was taken aback by your show of affection.

"No, I'd never do a thing like that." he responds.

He hugged you back, his hands squeezing you tightly as you felt his body pressing against yours. He was caught by surprise, and he didn't expect you to show any affection. His body stiffened up as you hugged him, as he remained still.

However, he felt a wave of warmth rush through him and it caused him to relax into the hug. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling a new feeling of closeness between you both.

"Come eat, there's plenty of food." You let go of the embrace, but you still keep your hands on him, dragging him to the seat right next to you. He didn't hesitate to follow you, nor did he show any opposition. You both sit down, with you being right next to Anakin. You pull yourself slightly close to him, close enough that he could feel it.

Anakin's eyes look up at your father, his expression showing a bit of anxiety. Your father smiles warmly at him, and welcomes him to the table. Anakin smiles back in response, looking down at the table a bit. Your father proceeds to sit down, as does the rest of your family. The dinner proceeds like normal, everyone engaging in conversation with one another.

"So Anakin, how's everything been?" your father asks, his aged, gravelly voice booming throughout the room.

"I've been quite fine sir, same old news." Anakin says, smiling a bit as he takes a bite from his biscuit.

"Anakin fixed the sheep pen today." The conversation shifts as you interject, causing Anakin's attention to look up. Your words get everyone's attention, as they all look at Anakin, who is sitting to the side.

"Oh, did he?" your father says, looking at him. Anakin's ears pick up, and he looks over towards you. Your father continues, "I'm sure the sheep are happy." He blushes slightly, nodding his head humbly as he looks at your dad.

Your mother pipes up with her own question, pointing the discussion in another direction.

"So Anakin, what do you do in your free time?"

Anakin answers, keeping his tone relaxed and level.

"Nothin' too special really," he says, taking a few moments to respond, "Just hang around, or fix things. Y'know how it is." He's cordial, polite, and has a soft attitude.

He treats you with respect, yet his attention keeps flicking back towards you again and again, as if he was drawn to your charms. You felt as if you were a magnet to him, as he always looked over at you after he said anything.

As you lean forward to grab the salt, your fingers brush against Anakin's thigh under the table, a subtle gesture that sends a thrill through both of you. He raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He knows exactly what you're doing. You quickly return to your seat, trying to hide your flushed cheeks under the low light.

"The food is really good mom." you smile sweetly at her. While you speak, your fingers graze along Anakin's growing bulge under the table, a subtle hint of your growing attraction.

Anakin's eyes meet yours for a brief moment, he swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure as he continues the conversation. The tension between you two is palpable, yet unnoticed by the rest of the family.

Dinner comes to an end, and your mother presents a homemade apple pie for dessert. The family cheers in appreciation, and you can't help but smile at the delicious aroma wafting through the room. The scent of apple pie creates a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a warm blanket. Anakin compliments your mother on the meal, his eyes never straying far from yours.

As everyone digs into the apple pie, you feel Anakin's hand gently slide in between your thighs under the table. You try your hardest to suppress the smile creeping onto your face, the connection between you two growing stronger with each passing moment. The dessert is sweet, but it's nothing compared to the warmth you feel inside.

When you finish eating your piece of pie, you stand up and gather your plate and utensils, turning to head towards the kitchen sink. Anakin follows closely behind. You work side by side, the clinking of dishes echoing through the kitchen.

Anakin's hands are large and rough from farm work, but they move gracefully as he washes the dishes. He looks at you, his expression calm but also full of appreciation.

"It was nice having dinner with your family." he tells you, "thanks for inviting me over."

You give him a smile and use a nearby towel to wipe your hands. "It was no problem, they enjoyed your company." He smiles back, his jaw firm but his eyes showing that he was genuinely pleased.

Just as your family enters the kitchen with their now empty plates,  you lean in close to Anakin, your voice barely above a whisper. "Meet me in the barn in five minutes." you say, your eyes filled with anticipation. Anakin's gaze locks onto yours for a moment before he nods, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your father approaches, engaging Anakin in conversation about the farm and the upcoming town festival. You turn to your mother, your cheeks flushed but your voice steady. "I'll be right back, I just need to check on the chicken coop."

Your mother doesn't seem to suspect anything unusual since this was usually the time you'd check on the chickens anyway. "Take your time, dear. We'll be in here for a bit longer." She waves you off, her smile warm and understanding.

You wait for everyone to settle down before slipping out of the house, making sure to lock the door behind you. The moonlit night casts a pearlescent glow over the yard, illuminating the path leading to the barn. You hurry inside, your heart racing with exhilaration.

Anakin watches you leave, his eyes never leaving yours as you exit the house. He knows what's coming next, and he can't help but feel a whirlwind of trepidation. The anticipation killing him, but he forces himself to continue the conversation with your father, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him.

Finally, your father finishes his glass of sweet tea and stands up, nodding goodbye to Anakin after he explains that he should be heading home.

The sound of crickets and distant frogs filled the air as Anakin walks towards the barn, his boots rustling against the grass beneath him. He approaches the old barn slowly, his heart racing faster than a stallion at the starting gate. He takes a deep breath before opening the door, the creak of the hinges echoing through the night. He called out your name softly, his voice tinged with anticipation. The barn is dimly lit, with the moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the wooden walls.

As he stepped inside, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. You were there, your eyes locked onto his.

"Hi." you say softly, your voice tinged with a hint of mischief. The barn feels smaller now, the air thick with tension. Your eyes lock onto each other, and the crickets chirping outside seem to grow louder. Anakin takes a step towards you, his confidence wavering only slightly.

"Hey," his tone is softer than normally, you could tell just from his voice he was nervous. His eyes are locked on you, scanning every inch of your body. "Your folks know you're in here?" he asks.

You shake your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile. "I told them I'm checking on the chickens." His eyebrow raises, a hint of amusement playing on his face.

Anakin clicks his tongue while shaking his head teasingly. "You shouldn't be lyin' to your parents sweetheart." He looks at you with a certain sparkle in his eyes, as if you made him feel special with a simple remark.

"Technically, I glanced over there when i was walking over here." you state matter-of-factly. Anakin steps closer to you, his fingers brushing the little strands of hair out of your face. His eyes never leaving yours. His touch is gentle, yet electric, making your heart race even faster. You step closer to him and you can't help but feel the pull between you two. The barn feels comforting and inviting, a secret haven away from the world.

"You look real pretty tonight." Anakin compliments sincerely, his hand still resting on your cheek. His thumb brushes against your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. You nuzzle your cheek against Anakin's big palm. "Thanks," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the silence of the barn.

Anakin's thumb traces a line along your lower lip, teasingly brushing against the corner of your mouth. His hand moves to your waist, his fingertips grazing the hem of your dress, sending electric currents through your body. Anakin leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle peck. He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching for your reaction. Seeing your approval, he leans in again, this time with more intensity. His kiss is soft yet passionate, filled with a sense of longing.

The kiss intensifies, your lips pressing harder against each other, tongues dancing in a rhythm only you two understand. Anakin's hands slide into your hair, pulling you closer, his breath hitching in your mouth. You break the kiss, trailing your lips against the rough stubble along his jaw. He groans softly, his hand tightening on your hair.

"Been thinkin' about you all day," Anakin panted between breaths. He grips your waist to pull you impossibly closer as you continue to explore his neck with your lips. "You and that damn dress." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, massaging them roughly through the thin fabric of your dress.

You giggle softly, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck. "You're that worked up over a dress, Ani?" Anakin whines quietly in response, his hips desperately bucking in your direction. You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on Anakin's. His eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly dropped to your knees, your hands reaching for his belt buckle. He groaned, his hips rocking forward, his cock straining against his pants.

Your hands reach for the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down, revealing his muscular thighs. You reach down further, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his underwear. With a quick tug, they fall to the ground revealing his thick cock, hard and ready just for you.

"You're killing me kid." He managed to croak out as you slowly wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it gently. You lean forward and kiss his angry red tip. It twitches in anticipation, leaking a small amount of precum onto your lip. Your tongue darts out, tentatively exploring the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste. You moan softly, your hands reaching down to cup his balls, massaging them gently.

Anakin's hands grip your hair tightly, his moans turning into groans of pleasure as you continue to tease him. "F-fuckin' hell," he growls, his hips rocking back and forth, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You stroke the part of him that doesn't fit into your mouth, your fingers gliding up and down his length. You can feel him twitching, his body trembling under your touch.

His cock pulses in your hand and his breaths come in ragged gasps. You gag slightly, your eyes watering, but you don't pull away. Instead, you take as much of him as you possibly can.

" 'M close- hold on, I'm- ah!" His cock twitches violently in your mouth, shooting a hot stream of cum down your throat. You swallow it unhesitatingly, eager to please him. Gazing up at Anakin, your eyes is fixed on his. He's panting heavily, his hands shaking slightly. His eyes are filled with admiration and desire. You can feel the heat of his gaze, and it makes you blush slightly.

"Come 'ere," he says, his voice hoarse. He pulls you to your feet, his lips crashing into yours. His tongue dances with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. His hands wandering over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer. As you kiss Anakin, you can feel him growing hard again, his cock pressing against your thigh. He slowly walks forward, guiding you towards the small tractor in the back of the barn. His lips never leave yours, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch. He moans into the kiss, slapping his big hand against the fat of your ass. "Turn around for me baby." he commands.

Anakin bends you over the tractor, and flips your dress up, exposing your pink cotton panties to him. He strokes the growing wet spot gently, his fingers grazing your bare skin.

"Jesus, she's practically dripping for me." he whispers, his voice filled with lust. His hands move to your panties, tugging them to the side, revealing your swollen, hot flesh. He licks his lips, his eyes locked onto your slobbering cunt. His cock pulses, ready to be inside you.

Anakin lines up his cock with your entrance, gently pushing in. You gasp, your body adjusting to his girth. He holds onto your hips, guiding himself inside you. He thrusts deeper, his cock filling you completely. You moan softly, your body quickly getting used to his size. "Thaaat's it, angel." he praises, his voice low and alluring. "Let me in."

His hips move slowly at first, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your body responds, your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper. Anakin's breaths come in ragged gasps as he starts to move faster, his hips slamming into you, each thrust sending you further onto the tractor.

You cry out as he sweetly rolls his abdomen, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each movement. The tractor creaks under your weight, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the barn.

"Takin' me so good baby." he growls, you can feel his cock stretching you, filling you completely.

"M-more Ani," you beg, your voice hoarse. "Need more-"

"Yeah? You want more?" he rasps, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. Anakin pulls you up by your neck and your back is now pressed against his chest. He thrusts harder, his cock hitting your G-spot with every movement. You yelp in surprise, your nails digging into the arm he has wrapped around your shoulders to keep your body flush against his. "There you go, you can take it, I know you can."

"Needy little girl," he teases, his voice thick with desire. "Just couldn't keep your hands off me at dinner, shit, could've bent you over that damn table and fucked you raw in front of your folks if I wanted to."

You moan, your head thrown back, your body moving with his. Your walls flutter around him when you hear his vulgar words.

He chuckles, his hands gripping your neck tighter. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Oh, you're dirty." He turns your head roughly, his lips crashing into yours, kissing you messily.

His tongue duels with yours, his hands gripping your neck tighter, holding you in place. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling. "Ani- cumming, c-cumming!" You can't form any coherent words, your breath coming in gasps as you neared your climax.

"Let go sweetheart, I got you," Anakin's breath tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks. You cry out as your orgasm quickly wracks over your body, your cunt contracting tightly around his cock. "That's my girl, c'mon." His breath comes in ragged gasps, and sweat trickles down his forehead, his chest heaving. It takes a few more powerful thrusts for him to fully unload inside you, his cum filling you up completely.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and carefully withdraws from you, his cock glistening with your wetness. He hastily pulls up his pants and adjusts himself.

"You did so good for me." he whispers, his voice filled with awe. He carefully fixes your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. "You look even prettier now," he says, his eyes filled with admiration.

He reaches up, fixing your hair, his fingers grazing your face. "You best get back to the house," he says, his voice filled with concern. "You know I'll be here tomorrow."

You nod, your cheeks flushed, your heart still racing from your encounter with him. "Mhm," you hum quietly. He smirks, his eyes filled with mischief.

You smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks when he leans in and brings his lips to yours one last time.

Anakin leads you towards the barn door, his hand still wrapped around yours. "I'll see you tomorrow sweetheart." he coos, his voice filled with promise.

You nod, your cheeks still flushed, your heart racing. "See you, farmboy." you say, your voice shaky. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you step out of the barn, your body still buzzing from the encounter. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, watching you every step of the way. You glance back, catching him standing by his truck, his hands on his hips, watching you walk away.

You enter the house, trying to compose yourself. Your parents were still awake, sitting in the living room, sipping on their drinks. They didn't notice anything amiss about you, thankfully. You made your way upstairs to your room, still feeling the evidence of your encounter between your legs.

You feel a thrill of excitement, knowing that Anakin will be waiting for you at that old barn, ready to have you whenever he wants.

[koolades-world]

One bed troupe w/ Mammon

There wasn't a boring day with Mammon around. As your self proclaimed first man, he ensured you went everywhere together. Because of this, he often dragged you along to gatherings with his friends.

When you first arrived in the Devildom, you didn’t get out very much. It was a pretty straight schedule: wake up, get walked to school by whoever's turn it was that day, do class, get walked home by someone else, do homework, go to sleep, then repeat. Once you got closer, Mammon realized how boring of a life you were living despite being in hell. He vowed to make your life more interesting and began showing you the fun side of life. He brought you to bars, restaurants, his favorite casino (of course), and so much more.

Today was no different. You were at a casino together with his friends early in the evening. You had grown closer with them at this point, and things weren't awkward when he had to leave for whatever reason. While nice, you began to learn the things Mammon hadn't told you that he told them. It was never anything bad, rather, it was usually cute things, such as how he really loved when you wore yellow or gold since he gushed to them every time you did.

Mammon had walked off to cash out his large bucket of tokens he'd earned for the third time that night, leaving you and his friends to chat.

"Tonight is a good night, huh?" You sip at your drink, lazily stirring it with the cute decorative pick that came with it.

"It is!" His friend states, shaking his own bucket.

"Mammon would say, it's cause of you." Another chuckles. You join in, amused.

"That's my Mammon. I'm happy to be a good luck charm, especially since he bought me my drink." You cause the group to laugh. The conversation begins to drift, but somehow makes its way back to Mammon

"You know, he's a little worried about you. Later tonight, one of Vazimid's friends is stopping by, but Mammon has been saying he hasn't liked the way he's been eyeing you." This statement worries you too. You know that despite growing comfortable, the Devildom is by no means safe. Mammon is protective, but it's rare that he'd admit it. Before you could respond, Mammon came back.

"Hey, Mc! I'm rich! Gotta say, I only do this good when yer around." He fixed his jacket, a smug grin on his face.

"Well, I wouldn't mind joining you every time you come here." You throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. The confidence melts away from his face as he begins to stutter, causing you to hug him tighter. The next few hours go well, until that friend arrived that nobody seemed to want there, which killed the mood. Mammon kept you close, but it eased him when you were by his side.

Later in the night, someone else in the group conveniently ended up winning several fancy room in the hotel the casino was in, free of charge. It was all a little too convenient. When Vazimid's friend asked who would be staying with who, Mammon immediately claimed a room for the both of you that nobody else was allowed in. After you teased him a little about it, a quick uncharacteristic glare to silence you. Not wanting to make him more upset, you remained quiet.

After collecting the room key, he drags you away from the friend group and onto the impossibly tall elevator. The ride up was quick, but neither of you spoke. Once you arrived at the room, Mammon unlocked it and promptly close it behind the both of you. You finally work up the courage to speak, but you’re not really sure what to say, or where to start.

“Mams? Is something wrong?” You put a hand on his arm and peer at his face. His expression is tight but softens once he sees the worry in you eyes.

“Nothin’ darlin’.” He smiled at you, but you can still tell something is bothering him.

“I know you. Tell me what’s wrong.” You placed your other hand on his other arm so you could pull him closer.

He hesitates at first, but eventually speaks. "Do ya really wanna know? It's dumb." He glanced at you.

"I do. Now tell me." You waited.

"It's that demon that Vazimid keep brining around. Don't trust him around you at all. I just know he wants to get his slimy hands on you." He sighed. You giggled a little at the realization.

"It's alright to be jealous, babe." Mammon back away from you instantly at the accusation.

"Hey, hey. That's not what I said!" His ears turned red, confirming what you thought.

"Whatever you say. Will sharing that bed with me quell your inner turmoil?" You began to giggle more as he came to the realization that he'd picked a room that only had one bed. 'It's free, Mams. You love free things." You scanned the room and saw a variety of goodies laying around the room you knew Mammon would scoop up once he was done being embarrassed.

You decided to leave him to his own devices and get settled in the room. You took a quick trip into the bathroom to find two sets of hotel branded pajamas that were suspiciously in the correct sizes. You showered with the nicest soaps you'd ever gotten your hands on and reappeared to find Mammon sitting on a chair, on his D.D.D.

"I'm done, knock yourself out." You throw yourself down onto the bed, face first.

"Took ya long enough." He skulked away and took his turn in the bathroom too. When he was done, and also emerged in the matching, branded set, he seemed less enthusiastic to get in the bed than you had been. Once he sat down, though, he realized how nice it actually was.

"Ya should've told me how soft these pillow were." He cuddled one of the pillows to his chest.

"If I didn't, maybe you wouldn't have at all and I could've had this entire bed to myself. Now, stop cuddling that pillow and cuddle me instead." You rolled yourself over to him and did grabby hands in his direction. He went red again, but listened. His hair was still a little damp from his shower and the jasmine scented hotel soap made him smell wonderful. He always ran very hot, which you enjoyed since he worked as a great personal heater. Once he had decompressed, you spoke a little bit about your plans for tomorrow, and eventually you drifted off.

Mammon remained awake for a little bit longer, thinking about the exciting evening the both of you had had. He was thankful that he had you, and even though he would never admit it, he had been jealous. He hated the idea of sharing you with some werido that he never invited in the first place. He hugged you a little tighter, and eventually feel asleep himself, thinking about you.

[mvngo-muffin]

enhypen when you have a nightmare that they forget who you are

a/n: i'm (kinda) back...sorry i was mia life has been hectic... also i think i'm shit at writing comfort stuff so pls tell me if this is good 🙏 i love validation !

heeseung ❀

"y/n? y/n, wake up," you felt heeseung gently shaking your shoulder as your eyes opened, heart racing and breathing heavy. you looked up at him for a second, his eyes wide with concern before immediately wrapping your arms around his neck.

he sighed lightly before hugging you back, rubbing his hands up down your back. "bad dream?"

you nodded against his shoulder.

"wanna talk about it?"

you didn't say anything for a minute, just trying to calm your heart down, but all you could think about was the nightmare and the image of your boyfriend unable to recognize you.

"i had a dream that you didn't know who i was. like you forgot me completely." you said quietly.

"baby," heesung pulled away from the hug to look at your eyes. "how could i forget a person like you? or such a pretty face like yours, hmm?" he smiled.

you exhaled, his attempt at lightening the situation putting your heart at ease. heeseung pulled you closer to him as you both lay back down, and gave you a quick peck to your forehead before you both drifted off again.

jay ❀

you jolted awake in bed, heartbeat fast and a strangled cry leaving your lips as your mind tried to process what had just happened in your dream.

"y/n? are you okay?" you heard jay sleepily mumble beside you. he had heard your cry and opened his eyes to see you sitting up with your chest heaving. he sat up and hugged you from behind, kissing the top of your head a few times to calm you down.

"what's wrong, baby? had a nightmare?" he asked while pulling you closer to him so that you were practically in his lap. you hummed quietly, remembering the dream and how you had tapped jay's shoulder from behind only for him to turn around and give you a confused and unwelcoming expression.

"i dreamt that you forgot about me. that you didn't know who i was."

jay pouted at hearing this, unable to imagine a world without you. he gently turned your face towards him and brushed your hair out of your face, kissing your cheek softly.

"impossible," he whispered. "if i forgot you, i'm sure i would have forgotten who i was, too. you're my everything."

you smiled a little at jay's words, returning the kiss on his lips before you both laid down and fell asleep, your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you.

jake ❀

"y/n, wake up darling," jake gently shook your shoulder upon hearing you muttering his name in your sleep, a thin layer of sweat gathering on your forehead.

your eyes opened abruptly as you awoke and sat up while saying his name. your boyfriend looked at you worriedly as you tried to calm yourself down.

he gently pulled you into a hug and kissed your temple as you held onto his shirt tightly. "bad dream, hm?"

"yeah," you whispered, closing your eyes tightly as the sound of your boyfriend in your dream asking 'who are you?' repeated like a backtrack in your mind. you felt your eyes start to tear up as you laid your head on his shoulder.

jake only realized you were crying when he felt his t-shirt suddenly wet and pulled away from the hug, immediately wiping your tears away as you quietly sobbed.

"what happened, baby?" he asked, voice laced with concern. "did i do something in your dream?"

you wiped away the rest of your tears, composing yourself the best you could before speaking. "i dreamed that you didn't know who i was and i got so worried."

jake pulled you back into the hug, stroking your hair gently. "aw, darling. how could i forget you? you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

he continued to whisper words of love to you as your tears stopped completely and soon enough, you were asleep in his arms.

sunghoon ❀

"sunghoon? hoon, can you wake up for a sec?" you quietly asked your asleep boyfriend, tapping his shoulder. your heart felt like it would pop out of your chest, and you really needed your boyfriend right now.

you tapped him a few more times before he drowsily blinked his eyes open and asked, "y/n? what's wrong?"

you sighed in relief at hearing your name fall from his lips. "sorry for waking you, i, uh, had a dream that you forgot who i was, so i wanted to see you."

sunghoon hummed lightly in concern at your response, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. he fixed some of your hair softly and kissed your forehead.

"don't let these things bother you, darling. i could never forget you even if i tried," he said, looking straight into your eyes, his clearly full of love.

"a nightmare is just something in your head; i'm here in reality, and i remember you, don't i? your name is y/n, right?" he joked.

you laughed softly at his humor and snuggled closer to him, responding with a quick, "it is." you let him stroke your hair as you both drifted to sleep, nightmare long forgotten.

sunoo ❀

feeling uneasy, you opened your eyes from sleep, heart beating fast and breathing uneven. sunoo was beside you, his arm draped over you as he softly played with your hair.

"hi, sweetheart," he gave you a gentle smile. "you feeling okay? i heard you making some noises."

the memories of the dream came flooding back into your mind as sunoo stroked your back gently, tears welling in your eyes.

"hey, it's okay, everything's okay," he cooed, bringing you closer to him. "why are you crying, hm? had a bad dream?"

you sighed, wiping the tears away. "yeah, bad dream. you didn't remember who i was, but i don't want to talk about it right now."

"y/n~ i could never forget you, okay? i love you wayyy too much for that."

you chuckled lightly at his words. "can we stay like this for a bit?"

"for as long as you want, darling."

sunoo's arm was wrapped around you as you snuggled into him, his presence enough to comfort you.

jungwon ❀

"jungwon?" you called out, voice shaking as your eyes adjusted to the dark, your rapid heartbeat making you feel anxious.

"y/n, you're up," jungwon replied in relief. he was sitting up, a cup of water in his hands. "have this."

you sat up slowly, hands shaking as you reached for the glass. jungwon smiled softly, bringing the glass to your lips and having you drink some water as he held the cup instead.

"thank you," you responded softly.

he placed the glass on the table before turning to you and moving your legs into his lap. "you had a nightmare?" he gently began moving his hands up and down your legs, gently pressing and massaging them.

"mhm," you said quietly, watching his hands move. "how did you know?"

he smiled. "you were sleep talking and your legs were twitching so much you almost kicked me... you wanna talk about the dream?"

you remembered the nightmare, the thought of your lovely boyfriend not recognizing you stressing you out.

"there wasn't too much to it, you didn't remember me in the dream and i think i just got really scared."

he reached over and left a long kiss on your forehead. "nothing could make me forget you, hm? don't worry about something like that." he shifted the position you were in so that you were both laying down beside each other.

"sorry for almost kicking you..."

ni-ki ❀

you jumped in bed, a shout of your boyfriend's name leaving your lips as you gasped for air.

niki woke from the sound, turning the side table's lamp on to get a better look at you. "y/n, are you okay?" he asked softly, seeing how frightened you looked.

you turned to look at him, face flushed. you gulped before responding, "y-yeah, i just had a bad dream, it's nothing." you waved your hand, dismissing the matter before laying back down.

niki laid beside you, grabbing your trembling hands and planting a kiss on the back of each one. "talk to me, y/n, what happened?" he asked, interlocking your fingers with his.

you inhaled shakily, hands relaxing in his warm palms. "i had a nightmare that you couldn't remember me. like, you turned around and looked so confused and annoyed at who i was and i just, i got really nervous and i-"

your boyfriend finished your thought with a kiss to your lips and a small smile. "forget you? annoyed with you? baby, where do you get these thoughts in your head from, hm? you're my favorite person."

you let out a breath at his sweet words, relieved to have such a kind boyfriend. niki wrapped his arm around you, followed by his leg, practically trapping you.

"you're stuck with me whether you like it or not."

[soggyriceee]

Hey could u do Königs reaction to his f partner having a tummy bulge in the yk? Love the way you write 🫶🏻

so small~ | Konig

thank you anon for your request <3 tummy bulge's are so fucking hot to me so I defo had fun writing this

summary: Konig reacting to you having a tummy bulge during your first time

warning: gentle to rough sex, unprotected p in v, praise, female!reader, established relationship, breeding kink

"come on maus.. I know you can take it" he mumbled, sliding the rest of his length inside your cunt. you hand covered over your mouth, trying to stay quiet as your parents were right next door. they had come over for your college graduation and were extremely excited for you. but Konig seemed to be a lot more excited for you.

"gonna stay quiet right? gonna let me use this pretty little cunt of yours?" he groaned, sliding halfway out before thrusting right back in. you nodded your head quickly, looking up into his hooded eyes. he smiled down at you, pressing a kiss onto your temple. "such a good girl" he cooed, sliding all the way out this time before shoving himself all the way back in. your muffled whimper didnt go unheard by him at all, in fact it only prompted him to move his hips against yours faster.

his head dipped into your neck, his lips sucking hickies onto the most noticeable spots. you cursed him in your head mentally, but you felt so much bliss in this moment, your couldn't tell him to stop doing anything. " so fucking tight libeling.. such a tight fucking pussy" he moaned, his hands gripping onto your hips. your eyes pressed shut, palm becoming sweaty from all your muffled moans. " wanna s-start a family with you libeling.. wanna... make you.. a mommy." he moaned breathlessly. his hand that was on your hip moved up to your boob, holding it in his hand.

his lips latched onto your nipple, looking up at you through his lashes. you looked down at him, eyes hooded. he pulled away from your nipple, a string of saliva between his lips and your nipple. that same hand was on its way to your clit when he felt something on your tummy. he looked down, worried at what it was. but that worry quickly faded away when he noticed it was just a tummy bulge. from his fucking dick.

he smirked and looked up at you, your eyes drifting to where his once were. " see that libeling? see how full you are of me?" he whispered, pressing down on where his dick popped out. your head pressed back into the pillow, toes curling into the sheets. his eyes fell back onto the bulge, watching it reaper and then disappear. this only made him wanna fuck you faster, and so he did.

he placed his hands back onto your hips, lifting them slightly so your back alone was pressed into the mattress, hips in the air. this angle quickly became too much for you, his tip hitting right at your womb. a painfully good feeling you had to admit. the moans and whimpers that were once muffled by your hands were no more as both your hands went to grip his forearms. "look at it libeling.. can barely f-fucking take me" he groaned, eyes still watching the tiny bump in your tummy.

your mouth fell open, pretty whimpers leaving your lips. your parents were the last people you were thinking about right now. konig was quite literally in your guts, and you could do everything but remain silent. " k-konig im c..close" you whined, looking into his eyes. he looked up at you, sweat covering his body. "hold it." was all he said before moving his hips faster. as if you could even hold it. his dick rubbed so well on your g spot, the tummy bulge only adding to the sexiness of what was happening.

"wanna stay in t-this pussy forever libeling.. fuck its s-so good" he whimpered, head falling back. the sound of skin slapping filled the room, alongside your moans and his. you were sure your parents were awake now, but that was an issue to deal with in the morning. "s-so close.. gonna fuck t-this cunt full of cum.. and you..better take a-all of it." he groaned, his head falling forward.

you were dangerously close to spurting all over him, and he knew it. the way your pussy was throbbing around him, sucking him back in. the sound of your slick squelching together made him go absolutely feral, his eyes going back and forth between your bulge and your dripping cunt. " c-cant hold it..anymore" you cried out, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "cum for me baby.. fuck cum all over me" he whined, looking down to your cunt.

he watched as your cum sprayed onto his abdomen, completely covering his cock. he mouth fell sightly ajar, watching how your cum dripped town to the bed sheets, even onto his balls. your whole body trembled below him, tears of pure pleasure seeping through your lashes. "oh i'm g-gonna cum m-maus.. please milk my cock baby, please" he moaned, looking into your tired eyes. your pussy clenched around him again, his begging making your pussy throb all over.

his hips picked up in both speed and force, the bed hitting against the wall behind you. but he didn't care. not one bit. his hand found your bulge again, pressing down on it. "fuck i'm cumming maus I-i'm.. fuck!" his hips thrusted deep into yours his head falling into your neck. he whimpered into your neck, holding you close to him. " f..fuck" he whispered, his body falling limp onto yours. your arms wrapped around his neck, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. " my parents may kill you" you said into his ear. he chuckled and pressed a kiss onto your neck.

" thats a tomorrow issue".

[lokilaufeysonslove]

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // Bucky has a nightmare and reader comforts him.

// Warnings // other than nightmare, none.

// Author’s Note // divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @buckybarnesj

You and Bucky had been on this mission for a week now, and things between you were tense, to say the least. There was always some sort of underlying tension between the two of you, but this time it was different. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something had shifted between you.

You both had been assigned to stay at a safe house for the night, but in separate rooms. You were grateful for the space, as it gave you a chance to clear your head and try to figure out what was going on with Bucky. As you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but think about how different things were now compared to when you first met. Bucky used to be so guarded and distant, but as you got to know him, you saw glimpses of the kind and caring man he truly was.

Just as you were starting to drift off to sleep, you heard a loud noise coming from Bucky's room. You immediately got up and went to check on him, worried that something had happened. As you opened the door, you saw Bucky thrashing around in his bed, clearly having a nightmare. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach him, but then you saw the pain etched on his face and you knew you had to do something.

You cautiously walked over to his bed and gently shook his shoulder, trying to wake him up. "Bucky, wake up. It's just a bad dream," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes flew open and he immediately shot up, panting and covered in sweat. He looked around the room, trying to get his bearings, before finally focusing on you. "Y/n?" he asked, still in a daze.

"Yeah, it's me," you said, sitting down next to him. "Are you okay?"

Bucky nodded his head, his eyes filling with tears. "It was just a nightmare. I'm fine," he said, his voice shaking.

You could tell he was lying, but you didn't push it. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. He stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and buried his face in your shoulder, letting out a sob.

You held him for what felt like hours, not caring about the tears that were soaking into your shirt. All that mattered was that Bucky was here, in your arms, and you were there to comfort him.

Eventually, his sobs turned into quiet sniffles and you pulled away, wiping away the tears from his face. "You wanna talk about it?" you asked gently.

Bucky shook his head, but then he sighed and looked down at his hands. "It was just a memory from my past. One I try to forget," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't push him any further, knowing that he would talk when he was ready. Instead, you just sat there with him, offering your silent support. After a few moments, Bucky spoke up again. "I'm sorry for waking you up. You can go back to your room now," he said, looking down at the floor.

You chuckled softly and placed a hand under his chin, making him look at you. "I wasn't sleeping. And I'm not leaving you alone after that nightmare. Besides, I don't mind sleeping on the floor," you said, giving him a small smile.

Bucky looked at you, "You shouldn’t sleep on the floor."

You shrugged, "I don't want to leave you alone. And I don't mind sleeping on the floor, really. I used to do it all the time when I was a kid," you said, hoping he wouldn't see through your little white lie.

Bucky didn't say anything, but you could tell he didn't believe you. "No, you shouldn’t sleep on the floor.” You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. He would not be able to go back to sleep alone, you knew him all too well.

“Bucky,” you said in a warning voice, “We both know you won’t be able to sleep if I live you alone. So quit this nonsense and scoot over."

He just shook his head at you and scooted over, patting the spot next to him. He was fighting so hard to hide his smile that was forming on his face, but he wasn’t going good job at it.

You smiled and laid next to him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, a bit unsure. He was acting like he didn’t want you to be there, but deep down, he was scared you would say you weren’t and go back to your room. He was hoping it wouldn’t happen.

“Yes, Bucky, I am completely comfortable. Now go back to sleep. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” You said and sneakily scooted a little closer to him. He noticed this and smirked lightly, you couldn’t see it in the dark, but you could hear it in his voice.

“Goodnight doll,” he said and put his arm around you.

“Goodnight, Buck,” you said and closed your eyes.

That night, Bucky didn’t have anymore nightmares, and unbeknownst to you, he slept peacefully for the first time in a while.