#i was about to say sorry for rambling but. i did start the answer by saying im a yapper | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prael · 4 months ago

Text

Touch

Kinktember Day 9: Spa

Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut

words: 7,422 Kinktember Masterlist

"My client, did you see her come in?" you ask.

"No, why? Is she famous or something?"

"Well, that would explain the secrecy, and it would also explain a woman barely twenty having cash to burn at a place like this," you whisper to the colleague who is far too jealous of how you just got requested by name because that usually means big tips for a good service.

"Did you get her name?"

"Supposed to be a secret." Your answer dissatisfies her, and she throws you a side-eye. "Okay. Okay. Danielle something... Marsh?"

"Shut up!" She hits you on the shoulder. "No fucking way. Let me take this one and you can have my next ten VIP bookings."

"Sorry, but she asked for me by name," you tell her. She mutters an obscenity under her breath. "Want to tell me what I'm getting into here?"

And then the girl spews out a jumble of ramblings about K-pop this and K-pop that—the kind of reaction that only the truly obsessed can have. Millions of views on this, charting on that, really fucking popular is the gist of it. So basically the whole planet Earth knows who this Danielle is. Well, shit. No pressure or anything. "Get in there already, do your best work and maybe get me an autograph."

A few forceful pushes out of the staff room and you find Danielle where you left her, her cleansing mask still on her face, sitting in that long white robe. You step barefoot over the soft wood, heat rising from underneath it.

As you draw near, you ask, "Miss Marsh, are we ready to begin?"

"Dani, please," her voice says from beneath the mask. It's hard not to be intimated after being hit with the fact that the woman before you is world-renowned. Though from here, she looks like any other delicate young woman. Her feet are small. Bare, tiny and arched, they hang just a few inches from the floor, and they are as perfectly still as the rest of her. "No need to be formal, I'm here to relax."

"Then let me start by offering you a drink." The bottle pops as you twist it. The label is adorned in cursive. "Bottled at source, premium mineral water." Your arm raises the bottle so she can see the brand clearly.

"Is it magical water?" There is a playful lilt in her voice, "Maybe it has some healing powers?"

"Guaranteed to nourish the soul and unclog those emotional pores," you deadpan.

The facemask stretches with Dani's wide smile, and she lightly chuckles. "That's good, laughter is good for the soul."

"Right." You pour from a height and a theatrical stream flows. When the flute is halfway, you stop the flow and pass it to her hands, which take it gently.

"What? You don't even hold the glass for me? Put it to my lips and tilt?" It's another tease, the joke stretching on her grin, but now it is her hands holding the flute, her fingers long and smooth around the stem.

"I serve, not control."

"Those don't have to always be exclusive." She laughs, and the sound makes you feel something. "But I appreciate the intention. I hear you're the best in the business."

"I'll let you be the judge, Miss Marsh. Now, allow me to remove that mask. I have raised the temperature in here to help open the pores, and I would like to begin with a facial."

"I do love a facial." Danielle smiles to herself. "And again, please, just Dani is fine."

You step over behind her, where her head tilts back against the chair, her long hair cascading below, shimmering in the moist air. Lightly, you place the tips of your fingers along her jawline, finding the edge of the mask and gently lifting it upwards. She doesn't flinch at all, and you watch the wet mask give way to her face. Even upside down, Danielle is indeed beautiful.

With her sun-kissed hair, radiant skin, and effortless, elegant beauty. She is, in summation of all her parts: perfect. The image the word calls up has always been fuzzy around the edges, an abstract idea more than a specific concrete thing, because real people aren't like this. That's what you believed until you laid eyes on her.

"You take good care of your skin, Miss—Sorry—Dani."

"Thank you," she says simply, no joke this time. Your fingers ghost over her chin and then trace to her cheekbones, moving lightly to test her texture, all so smooth.

"First, I shall cleanse away any impurities," you say and lean down to examine her face. Even when you are so close, there is nothing for your scrutiny—no visible crevice, no blemishes, despite there being not a trace of make-up. It's all-natural.

There's a light whisper on her lips, one that you barely make out, "Good luck with that."

You tilt your head as you reach over for a fresh sponge, run it under hot water until it is filled, squeeze out the excess, and slowly drag a path of heat across her forehead. As your other hand holds the sheet over her neck to catch stray water, your first-hand works in large strokes from above, rinsing her skin with each successive pass.

As you focus, she leans back into the chair, and a soft hum escapes her lips. "Feels nice already," she murmurs.

You say nothing, working her in silence. Her eyelids are closed, her lips slightly parted, and she remains so still that, if not for the sound of her breaths, she could be easily mistaken as unconscious. This silence has a tranquillity and familiarity to it, one that feels like home, and without thinking, you are smiling.

She stays just the same as you begin to exfoliate her, brushing across her face in ever-widening circles. It's with such tenderness that her cheeks take a pink tint as she grows hotter and she smiles as you rub in gentle swirls, one spot, then the next.

Time passes in silence as you finish the exfoliation and apply all manner of natural, topical lotions, toners, and peels to Dani. When her skin is primed, you press your fingers against her skin and, starting at her forehead, you massage her face to a rhythm of long, soothing strokes. You enjoy touching her, you admit, which isn't exactly right for a professional, but since you have no outward reaction from her, you assume it isn't the end of the world.

Throughout it all, she keeps her eyes shut. Over time you move around her face, applying more pressure in some spots than others. She shifts and sighs, soft exhalations of her warm breath tickling your arm, yet otherwise doesn't move an inch. Her shoulders relax against the leather of the seat. "You really know what you're doing," she says, with a smirk. You pull her skin with your fingertips, moving them in large circles as it comes to an end. Finally, you tap your fingers gently over her skin to soothe.

"Now, your body, Dani."

Her eyes crack open, but slowly. "Are we moving?"

"I'll wash your skin over there, but the massage will be in the next room. Now, I'll need you to—"

Dani doesn't let you finish your sentence before she rocks forward in her seat and pushes herself to a stand. She's facing away from you and puts her hands in front of her, then she throws the robe back off her shoulders and lets it slide off her arms to the floor in one quick motion.

"Good," she says. "I was for too hot in that thing anyway."

Of course, as a professional, you would never gasp in surprise, yet, at the sight of her ass, the muscles tight, small, and round, the curves of her waist so thin, hair over her shoulders threatening to hide her slender back and those long slim legs, you manage to just barely gulp.

Too hot, she certainly is, you want to tell her and not just in the sense that perspiration coats her skin. Tiny beads of sweat that, as your eyes crawl over her, are in the process of running downwards. This glistening on her flesh is hypnotic. The curve of her ass, the slight tilt of her hips forward, the way the base of her spine leads downward, right down to a crack between her—

Focus. You remind yourself you have a job to do.

"In the far corner. The stone pool. Please, stand by the edge." It takes a second before Dani's head bobs, and then she slinks forward, slow and catlike. Her stride, and every motion of her muscles beneath her flesh that accompanies it, are mesmerising. And with every sway of her hips, you love her tight body more.

She pauses, a foot by the edge, and looks down into the water. Steam rises and envelops her form in a pale white that hugs her curves.

"Please, step in," you say as you walk over to her side and take her hand. Now, you catch a glimpse of her profile, and her chest, small, round and perky, and as you avert your eyes to guide her down the step, you tell her, "Watch your step now, go from stone to stone until you stand in the middle just there."

"Got it," Dani says. She steps with confidence and the hot water reaches quickly above her ankles and then halfway up her calves. With each careful move down the next step she gasps, soft and light. The water splashes with her movement and then swallows her up to the upper thigh.

"Please, take a seat there, on the wide stone." You reach to help steady her as she sinks down, her knees bending as she perches down so the water is at her hips as she sits.

"I just sit?"

"Yes, Dani, and I will bathe you." You step into the pool until the hot flowing water covers your knees, and then you stand behind her. You reach for a sponge, submerge it, and watch it fill, then draw it out and over her lower back and drag a large circle across her soft skin. "How's the water? Feel okay?"

"Great. Wow." She goes quiet as you work up and down her back, long, relaxing, soothing strokes until all the tension has left her shoulders. "That's wonderful," she says.

You clean her shoulders and then down her arms, the sponge dipping under the surface, and caressing her in a movement that feels like worship. With a slow rhythm, you run the sponge over her shoulders and around her neck, and finally, reaching over her, down to her chest. She shifts back as you do, resting herself against your legs. You run it over her chest a few times before coming up again to her shoulders.

"So soft..." her voice says, almost a breathy moan, and you catch a hint of it. Maybe she realises how it sounds because she soon goes quiet. Next, you work downwards, to her tight, toned stomach. Slowly you make sure you cleanse every part of her body. All while her back rests on you and her breathing is warm and pleasant.

"Miss, I mean Dani, can you stand now? We need to get you clean." You prompt, a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure." Dani snaps out of it. She stretches and cracks her neck before rising, leaning forward for a moment. When she rises, ripples run out in all directions and your eyes drift over her ass. It looks plump, perky, perfect. Then you sponge it, giving purpose to your stare. You push it down, over her cheeks and Dani shivers.

You repeat your slow, languid movements. Wipe away any trace of imperfection from her hips and thighs and then when you make her slowly step out of the pool, you work down her bit by bit. Finally, she stands on the edge of the pool, looking down at you, towering over you in her naked glory. She presents to you her foot and you hold her ankle to steady it and clean each digit, scrubbing between the toes.

"You can take the towel, on the peg, Dani."

"You do it." Dani doesn't move at all, keeping her eyes on you, staring into your eyes and through you.

You cautiously nod and then climb from the pool. You keep eye contact and wrap the towel around her small, wet frame. In your arms, she feels so fragile. You rub her down, first her legs. Long strokes, left and right. Each, in turn, both legs. Then you bring the towel up. When you wrap it over her hip and move upwards along her torso, Dani presses herself to you.

"You really know how to put someone at ease," she mutters.

You nod silently in return, and finish drying her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her back. You remain stoic as the heat between you builds, and she turns around without prompting. You wrap her again and bring the towel all the way down. Then over her rear. Soft, short circular motions with your palm.

"The table in the next room, Dani. Start by lying on your front, you can use the towel on the table to cover yourself. Once I see you settled in, I'll join you."

She laughs quietly and starts her slow walk to the door. You take your own towel, drying your legs, the water has soaked into the front of your shorts from where she leant against you.

She's on the bed. The towel, provided for her decency, is in a pile on the floor.

"Dani, the towel..."

"I'm fine, I want it off. I want everything off. Is that a problem for you?" There's this undeniably confident quality to her like the universe just has to be as it is because she likes it that way.

"Not a problem," you tell her. "It does tend to get in the way."

You're close to the bed now, looking down at her, still so perfectly nude. So vulnerable and relaxed, and not a drop of shame in her eyes. She gives you a look that says she's in charge, and that she's been waiting for this, and now it's finally going to happen. And that smile is impossible to refuse. "You could join me if it helps. Make it feel more like an equal partnership."

"Miss— I—"

"I'm joking," she winks. Danielle bunches her hair by her head and turns her head to the side as she rests.

The first of your oils, imported, rich and infused, drip with a consistency thick as honey over her. You watch it roll from the top of her back and run down her spine. Its warmth makes her twitch gently.

Slowly you reach out, press your hands into her skin and drag them from top to bottom, following the oil, making sure you cover her.

She hums in delight.

With great care, you begin your work. Fingers sink in, and your thumbs feel her muscles. Stroking and rubbing, from the top of her back, your fingers coax and prod at the flesh beneath. Pressing it back and forth, at times as gentle as a summer breeze and then as hard as a hammer.

There are knots in her back, beneath the tender surface. You find them easily and work at them to relax, coax them into submission, untying the muscles until they go soft. She gasps at your touch as you release them. Her body responds to you in the sweetest ways. With the smallest of whispers, the little fluttering breaths, and with her skin taking on a pink glow.

When the last knot goes soft, she writhes in response, and a content, relaxed murmur comes out of her.

"Oh god, that's it, don't stop," she says, the first words to come from her for a while.

"You were very tight." You reach across, add a small amount of more oil and start working back upwards. One stroke at a time. Up her neck. Over her shoulders. She trembles when you go deep into her flesh and reaches out to grasp at something, anything, and finds the edge of the table, holding herself steady. Her arms now, you lift them one by one, prying them from her grip and then holding and rubbing and pulling to coax the stiffness out.

Oil over her legs, next. Slowly you run your hands over the outside and inside and rub them into her skin, kneading it into her. Danielle keeps her mouth firmly shut the whole time. No jokes. Nothing funny. You lean down to her, focusing on her thigh that refuses to let go. Bending down, you push into her. As you feel her tension drain, you are rewarded with another quiet hiss.

You place the oil upon her feet and work it into her soles with a finger, an instant trigger, she cackles as her foot recoils at your touch. "Sorry, that's a bit ticklish," she tells you, apologetically.

Her feet go still and she inhales deeply as you set back to your task, much to the quiet amusement of Danielle. It's the slowest you have ever worked on a client, with long, dragging strokes to make sure she really enjoys it. Each is careful, so careful, to pull and tease. "Keep working it all the way up, all the way up my legs," she orders, quietly. "Nice and slow. Can you do that?"

You agree.

You hear Danielle sigh as you move your hands slowly up her calf. So soft and firm at the same time as she breathes so gently. A trace of laughter, an easy smile. You work her in the same manner, up her thigh, as slow and relaxing as before, massaging deep and heavy. Danielle begins to roll her hips as you grip the flesh at the top of her thighs and dig in.

"Higher, please, just for me." Danielle makes a little hum to accompany the instruction. You obey, knowing where this is leading. You take the oil, and let it pour lightly onto the peak of her cheek, it threatens to roll away so you capture it in your palm, a firm squeeze of her rear, a spread of oily warmth. She shivers and pushes up her hips in silent encouragement.

Your hands trail along, smooth and oily, each touch brings more shivers. Her legs part slightly, a slow squirm of her hips. Your fingers glide on her tight, round cheeks; running across, back and forth as she breathes deep. You press deeper with each sweep and listen as her gasps become a little louder, and her body moves a little more. She bends her arm, reaching back, as you watch it shake. Her nails claw onto the side of the bed.

The more you tease her with your touch, the harder she grips and the more she parts her legs. You've known the perfection of her body, just by seeing it, but this feeling confirms it.

Your hand wanders with long, oily strokes as you glide up her back, tracing the curves of her slim back up, all the way to her neck. There, you hold her as you lean in. "You can turn over now. Let's work out your front," you say, and Dani nods in agreement.

She smiles, though she remains silent, slowly, with such care, turning onto her side, then twisting to face you, her face flush, eyes drowsy, her mouth agape. She rests upon her back, arms by her sides, legs flat against the bed, open, as you gaze into her eyes.

You apply the oil with long slow strokes down her stomach, feeling her as she flinches, watching the dimples at her waist appear then vanish with her body's twists, with every flexing of her muscles. When you trace up, her flat, beautiful chest, and slowly slide a finger beneath her small pert breast, Dani takes a deep, quick, raspy breath, then says, "They didn't lie when the reviews said you have the best hands in the world."

Your oil-covered thumbs graze upon her nipple, soft at first, gentle in pressure, but this becomes firmer, building and rising, faster. Round and round it swirls, and this delight sends Danielle's breath to hitches and sharp, shallow pants. As she squirms in delight, her legs twist, rubbing and clenching. Her teeth bite down on her lips. The flesh of her body glistens.

One hand reaches, down a thigh then back up, across her stomach and down the other. Repeated in pattern as the other thumb never ceases on her pert nipple. Dani's eyes go blank as your touch continues, circling, teasing, stroking and grabbing. Her body responds and you are delighted to witness every tremor and gasp as it arches. And finally, for the first time, a full-blooded moan rings free.

Your hand goes lower. Deeper into the pit of her thigh as she spreads her legs wide. You seek out the inevitable and when you reach her crotch, you watch her tense up. And when the touch slides between her pussy's folds, and against her clit, there's an immediate reaction, her body jumping as you make the slightest flick of motion with your middle finger. You lift and let a trail of oil roll down her slit and back down to her rear.

"I wasn't really joking before," she gasps. "You should be naked. It would make this whole experience better." Dani tilts her head, fixes her drowsy gaze onto you, and holds the stare for what feels like a hundred heartbeats. "Don't you think that's fair? The way things are going?"

You hold the eye contact and consider this, a sudden lump in your throat making any immediate reply a struggle. Her eyes don't move from yours. Even her chest barely heaves with her short, fast panting.

"Go on, I want you naked. I'm going to feel so, so empty otherwise..."

That's all it takes.

How could you deny her?

Your hands, still covered in the hot oil, reach for the buttons at your collar. You slip them in order from the top and release one after another. Danielle's lips twitch, and her teeth rake them to a shine. Your clothing drops to the floor. Bared. It feels so wrong, and unprofessional, yet Dani looks on and gapes with a hungry, dark delight.

"Nervous now?" Her eyebrow twitches up.

"Never," you bluff.

Danielle's mouth stays open wide, and her breaths get caught and flicker as your touch returns to the same spot as before. Gentle, light touches flutter with your fingertips, drawing the tips of your fingers back and forth, back and forth, over her clit. You watch as her eyes widen, how her legs straighten out and she starts to kick her feet with the faintest hint of frustration as you tease.

"I paid for a deep massage." She emphasises the adjective, dragging the syllable out like a whine. "This teasing is bad for my heart," she whispers.

Her arm rises, then reaches for your chest and trails its way downward. The pressure of her finger, nails lightly scratching at your skin, trailing down to the waistline and then she wraps her slender fingers around you. It's hard. Incredibly so.

"And I'll show you how generous I can be with a tip."

She licks her lips slowly and sensually as her eyes meet yours with a mischievous gleam.

You grunt, pressing down with your fingertip, and then without a second thought, push it inside of her. Danielle throws her head back in silent bliss.

"Holy shit," she mumbles in a muffled, muted moan. "Don't hold back." You circle inside her slowly with one finger, letting the oil's moisture guide you. Then, adding a second digit, you delve back into her, pushing in deep and making sure she can feel it all the way inside as the palm of your hand pushes against her crotch.

Dani rolls her head to one side as you work, staring you right in the eyes and biting down on her lip as she throbs and you press down inside of her, moving in all sorts of subtle directions that are impossible for her to guess. With that, she moans again and there's a little grunt from deep within her. Her fist twists around you and she gets bolder with her touch.

You build it into some sort of rhythm and she moves, each time, reacting so well with your own thrusts. When she's relaxed enough for it, you introduce another finger.

"I— You can— Go a little bit faster," she pleas. Stretched wider, Dani starts to grow even more restless. This time, instead of small, languid strokes, your whole hand works, fingers rubbing and swirling, thumb finding her clit to massage it with purpose, building, always building, until she is shuddering under you, every single time, tensing and twitching with every change in direction.

"Come on—more," she pleads, bucking up against your hand, so slick with arousal.

She's barely jerking your cock, not even intentionally, just the jolts through her body causing the occasional twist of her grip or slide of her palm. You let it just rest in the loose curl of her grip and focus on doing what she commands, twisting your hand, gripping and stroking, tugging in circles and holding inside. The quivering gets worse and worse. And her breath grows heavier.

You keep working her relentlessly, as she squeals a drawn-out curse. Dani nearly loses control. She grips you hard, tightens her fist around you in spasm, a pained wince on her face, as she curls her toes so hard.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." It's the only thing she says, no jokes, no banter, as her eyes roll back, mouth agape as if the wind's been knocked from her, and a final, body-length spasm overtakes her. Her whole body. Back arched off the table, eyes pinched shut. It lasts for the longest time, almost impossible to sustain, you watch with an odd mix of terror and wonder. Her hair is a mess. Her naked, stretched-out limbs, glisten in the warm light.

It takes her a good half minute to fall back down, her lungs now sucking in the air as if there were none at all. One leg quivers. Her breaths slow, her eyes open again and you're holding her stare, her cheeks a faint scarlet, strands of hair plastered across her forehead.

More oil. More rubbing. From tension to relaxation again. Slowly she softens and you turn her whole body limp beneath your hands. All while you barely manage to hold yourself back from ravishing her. She keeps her eyes fixed upon you, so you force a smile, ignoring the ache clenched in her fist. You could kiss those lips, right now. Taste them. How soft and smooth would she feel pressed against you? What noises would come out of her?

You'd be forgiven for letting your imagination run wild with desire, but not forgiven for taking this service in any direction that Danielle didn't command.

She watches your thoughts as they float by, and seems to be considering the same. Then she smirks, and just with a look, reassures you that it's going to happen, and it's going to happen just exactly the way she wants it.

You're working your slick hands over her midriff, and have been for a minute or two, waiting for instruction. You work slightly up her body, perilously close to taking some initiative, but then she speaks, "That was... unexpected."

"Was it? Seemed to be your plan all along."

"Planned to tease. Planned to be touched. But did not expect it to be that good." She shakes her head softly, her cheek touching her shoulder as she stares with a fuzzy, dreamy look that is impossible to decipher. She has a cute, beautiful way of pouting her lips that's fascinating, you're struck still, hypnotised by the sight and the motion. "A few more would be perfect."

"You have me booked for another hour, and the client gets what the client wants."

Dani laughs. A light, melodious chime. "I know what I want," she tells you, gently rocking her palm over your cock. "I'm incredibly hard to fully satisfy, you better get to work."

Dani releases you from her grasp, and turns back over to her front, stretching out once more and looking back at you over her shoulder, holding a stare as she parts her legs. This stare could kill a man if his heart were too weak, and though your heartbeat quickens, your mind focuses on your purpose.

Your hands glide over her oil-coated thighs, wet and glistening. Dani rests her head back down and you are unable to stop your gaze from wandering along her spine, the gentle dimple above her ass, the two tight round cheeks below and the line bisecting between them. Up over her ass, you caress, then you slip and stroke in the valley, this, she clearly enjoys, judging from how her butt rises to greet your touch, her hips rolling once more.

Lower now. Lower and lower, until once again, your finger meets her lower lips and she hisses an inwards breath and tenses. Her body is so reactive to every touch. It makes this so easy, so rewarding, so deeply arousing. You are confident you can build her up, high, and crash her down in waves, for hours, until the sun breaks.

Two fingers again, to begin, that same twist and swirl to coax her towards delirium. Her quiet huffs and suppressed moans fill the air. With a heavy push, you dive in deeper, to watch as her whole body, muscle by muscle, starts to become lost in the sensation. And when you curl your fingers down and grind the heel of your hand over her clit, Dani absolutely loses it. She bites the sheets, body tight, hands trying to grab the far edge of the bed to give something to hold onto.

Her feet kick uselessly and a series of incomprehensible phrases fill her breath and break apart on the way out of her. Though you don't quite understand them, you grasp the meaning. This is what she wants you to do right now, to see how high you can bring her.

Her whole body starts trembling again. Tingling, quivering, shivering. It's one constant shake and her moans are louder, and longer. She struggles to breathe out a scream. Sweat begins to mix in the oil, and she lets out another unintelligible mess of words as you pull away. Dani collapses back into a quivering heap, gasping for air and stretching her hands out as if reaching out to the void, reaching out, grasping for something in the dark.

She lies there, spent, breathing deep. Her entire body is hot and burning as her muscles relax. Each breath is a moan, and her thighs clamp tightly together as if the feeling of nothing after being so worked up is torturous to endure.

Your fingers are soaked in her creamy fluids, it drips down onto the bed below. Yet somehow, this isn't over. No. There's a single goal, right in the back of your mind, that's never stopped clawing. If only you could taste her. Sink your face between her firm ass cheeks and tease her with your tongue and suck and devour her, the entirety of her.

Maybe you could ask. Or maybe you could just start kissing her lower back, your nose rubbing against her tailbone, working to the left, towards her hip and tease, trailing your lips ever lower to a spot just over the peak of her butt, until she wants your tongue to dive right in.

The thought is interrupted by her blessing, "Again. Another. However you want," her words stumble upon each other, a raspy, spent quality to her. "Whatever you want."

You kneel at the very end of the bed, lean over and take her hips and you lift them up with an abrupt strength that earns her immediate interest, judging by her sudden gasp. You put her on her knees, ass in the air. Beneath it, her lips shine and spread. You're going to drown in her. You lean over, planting kisses along her body until they land right where your fingers had been, right along her soaked pussy.

The taste is so sweet. Dani whimpers as her body twitches. Your lips part her, and your tongue stretches and laps her up with an unshakeable excitement. Dani tastes amazing, like every inch of her, hot and rich and so unbelievably delicate. She is desire—concentrated and distilled into the female form. Your mouth descends, kissing every tiny spot you can reach, your lips closing, sucking the sticky warmth into your mouth. You might spend the rest of eternity here, savouring her juices.

Each rough lick gives Dani a small burst of pleasure. This is perhaps not the most elegant approach, but you wouldn't dream of stopping and so you continue, over and over, eager to return Dani to her previous, tranced bliss. So wet and sweet and smooth as velvet, your tongue flattens over her clit.

Dani cums twice like this. Ass in the air, your face in her cunt, two more delicious releases and you lap up both. They come accompanied by Dani's musical screams and moans and swearing and mumbles and complete incoherence. Every part of her body tenses. Every movement becomes forced, with less control, until every part of her, quivering and shaking, is taken by a rapture. Her throat chokes off her moans and breathy whimpers, and then she becomes lost for a time, struggling to remember to breathe, caught up in the overwhelming, and unstoppable waves.

"Enough, enough," Dani chokes out, and so you stand back, watching as she twists back into a flat position on her back again, her hips shaking with the effort. She trembles for a while longer before lying perfectly still on the table. As you gaze at her, she still appears ethereal, unattainable. She gazes up at you with lidded eyes and the drowsy content smile that rests upon her lips—she is a goddess. Even after all those body-racking orgasms, she settles into that same elegant grace that makes you question what makes her mortal.

Dani raises a hand and curls a beckoning finger, "Come here."

And you come to her, to her smile that draws you in, a moth to a flame and the moth will burn, not the flame, it will never tire, it will consume anything. She takes you in her hand, hard and throbbing under her delicate touch, and yet so helpless against it. With a pull, Dani draws you in—to consume.

She parts those pretty, pink, curled lips and then looks up into your eyes and sighs as her warm breath runs across your length. Danielle curls her tongue to the underside of your head and engulfs it. She doesn't raise her head from where it rests, instead making you clamber up to her, so you put a knee on the wooden frame and a hand next to her shoulder. The heat grows, and Dani is swirling her tongue over your tip, making you twitch and throb in her grasp, a slave to her touch.

You're pushing forward, leaning over her, as her mouth opens wide and lets you in, then, all at once, tightens. Her tongue and lips stretch around your thickness and then enclose you, sealing tight. She makes a point of looking you in the eye, holding your stare, a curl at the corner of her mouth that only further sets a tremble to your loins. She pulls, slow, agonising and without hurry, her mouth holds tight and sucks back.

You pull out of her, an inch, and she stays clamped tight and as she draws away, she uses the time to slowly slide her tongue along and around your crown and against the sensitive underside. Once Danielle has pulled right off with a wet smack, the warmth of her breath covers your cock once more. She flicks her tongue against your tip, first as a long, sweeping, lingering brush, then a rapid flick that teases.

"Dani, fuck," you groan.

"That's the idea," she whispers, right against you, her warm, panting breath driving you crazy, her own burning desire barely contained. "Get down there and do me. Right now."

Then, in one fluid movement, her hands find her legs. She grips behind her knees and pulls her thighs up and back. She spreads her legs wide, with her feet in the air.

"Fuck me. I mean it," she states firmly, fixing you with that stern gaze. Her words send a flaming arrow directly to light the most basic of your instincts.

She has presented everything to you and wants to give even more. You can think of nothing else but ploughing her into the table until your vision fades to white. It takes only seconds and you find yourself over her, between those slim legs. You put a hand on each thigh and spread her.

Cock bearing down on her leaking cunt, you lower your body until she has all of your weight on top of her. Her hips squirm under your pressure, and she drags your arm tighter around herself until she finds exactly what she's been looking for. A rub between her folds as your length slips against her, up and down.

"Mmm, yes," she giggles, "put it in, all of it."

In an almost unconscious action, you place the head of your cock against her opening. Her wetness provides no friction, and Dani uses her nails to scratch your back impatiently. Slowly you flex forward. Every inch. So warm, so fucking hot. Tighter than anything.

"Oh, yes," is all Dani has to say as her breath cuts short. You feel the intense squeeze, you have no doubt this is a step beyond the pleasure your fingers gave her, and her entire body tightens, and she pulls you in, deep and full. Her eyes grow wide and her fingers dig into you as you draw back and drive in once more.

Another moan, her pitch gets deeper, this one drawn out from her very core. You hear it right in her chest, from the depth of her lungs, before it squeals free, right into your ear. "Worth every penny." Her words are thick and drawled, hard to make out, she can't seem to decide whether she wants to open her mouth or close it and keep it shut.

She wraps her arms tight around your neck and pulls you in deeper, you push her legs higher, folding her body up and it only makes things tighter, a thrill she clearly relishes.

You roll forward, holding her close to you, giving you a better purchase with her feet held up so high. Dani groans as you bite and suck at the soft skin along her neck. Your thrusts are still slow, so damnably slow. You push, and fill, and wait. Over and over, it's a cruel torment to both of you.

"Ah, come on. Give it to me, hard," Dani says, raking nails on your neck. She turns her head. Finds your mouth. Seals her lips against yours. Teeth nibble and then her tongue penetrates your mouth. Her hips start to rise and drop. Her sex grabs at you, pleading to pound her.

So you let go of your iron self-restraint and fuck her. Fuck her good.

Your tempo grows more powerful. Her walls squeeze and pull and writhe with a desperate need. It's tight, so, so tight, the way she envelops you, the slick warmth around you. Each stroke sends a shudder through her. Another ripple follows and with it, her high, pitchy wails. Dani's never been so loud, so demanding that her pleasure be delivered.

Number five is close, you can feel her body going rigid, the quivering, twitching, curling of her toes, the growing tension, you go faster, a force building within, trying to rush her to the inevitable. Dani screams, moaning incoherently, her eyes screw tight as you throw yourself into her with such ferocity, like an animal, with no regard for pace, or rhythm. Pure, unrelenting pleasure.

She grips so hard on your shoulder, and then her other hand goes back, over her head, gripping the edge of the table in white-knuckled desperation. "I'm... cumming," Dani spits through a clenched jaw, unable to even form her tongue around the word.

Her orgasm feels more powerful this time, so much more; it flows through her and you can't help but stare. Watching the way the pink blossom blooms on her face and how the rest of her pales. One orgasm into another, you think, it's difficult to discern. You're in no rush. No race. Instead, you delight in the absolute loss of control you see in Danielle's face and you feed off it.

Her mouth forms a soundless scream and she reaches up and sinks her nails into your chest and drags them across, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave marks. It feels amazing. All the more so watching Danielle break herself, willingly.

"Holy shit..." Danielle pants then sucks air into her empty lungs.

Her little, flexible body, pinned beneath yours, seems incapable of even the tiniest motion, save the trembles.

Through gritted teeth, she says, "I want— I want a facial. My face. Cum."

This is the single sexiest thing she could have possibly said at that moment. For all the time you've spent watching that pretty doll-like face contort in a hundred different ways, you want nothing more than to see it coated with your lust. To paint every last bit of that sweetness on her lips, on her cheeks—everywhere. To witness that brief moment, after climax where she is confused and awash with bliss and trying to remember how to breathe, and it's interrupted by a load of your cum. You want it.

You round the table, standing over her head, lowering down and watching her eyes spark with anticipation. Danielle knows how bad you want it, how close it is, and you watch, enraptured by the way she tilts her head up and licks her lips. Her little, eager tongue.

Dani wraps her fingers around you and strokes and pumps fast, pulling, urging you to completion, teasing you to spill over her, onto those pretty, dainty features. Your skin feels alive, like static and pinpricks and pure lightning, like your nerves have come to the surface. Pent-up energy coils low, threatening to snap. You cannot resist her anymore.

It all unfurls in a glorious, explosive instant. Blinding. A shiver climbs up your spine, spreading to every limb in one long spasm. A long, raw growl in your throat as you shoot thick and hard, some on her face, and some overshooting onto her chest. Dani gasps a cute little "Oh" and then starts to giggle as the second rope lands right over her perfect little features. And then another, this time across the bridge of her nose and her cheek and down her lips. Her tongue collects whatever it can.

Dani's small hand keeps a hard grip and keeps coaxing, even as you feel like you have nothing to give, with it all painting her face, still, she jerks up and down, until you are empty, trembling and drained. Still, she goes, forcing you through painful shivers, laughing the whole time until the pain becomes too much, and your hands take hers and pull.

You prop yourself against the table, looking down at the mess you made. Dani's happily laughing to herself, licking up what she can. "You'll need to clean me again now, won't you? Sponge away all your dirty filth," she giggles.

Her giggle is intoxicating. Loving. It warms you right through. You wish you could bottle up her laughter.

"Need a minute," you grunt, and there's so much pride on her cum-strewn face.

"Aw, need time for recovery?" Dani quips. "I'll just lay here, all messy and defiled. Waiting to be tended to. Enjoy the sight of me, of your filthy cum all over my sweet, innocent face, until you get the strength to lift me. Really, don't rush, I love this feeling."

#kinktember #kpop smut #Danielle smut #newjeans smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #m reader #smut #Danielle x reader #spa #danielle marsh

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wileys-russo · 1 month ago

Text

the christmas eve dash II l.williamson

second of my yearly christmas fics and part of the mila universe! the christmas eve dash II l.williamson

"lee? baby can you come here for a sec please!" you called out to your wife, hearing her footsteps change direction and head toward where you were holed up away in your shared home office.

"whats up babe? i'm just about to go pick up the gremlin." leah jingled her keys as she leaned in the doorway with a curious frown, mila at her weekly karate practice.

"christmas checklist!" you tapped your pen against the wad of paper in front of you as leah swallowed the dry witted comment lingering on the tip of her tongue.

"hit me with it." the blonde nodded encouragingly instead, moving into the room as you rattled off the last few remaining tasks on your list, forever having been the organisational mind between you and leah.

"-then you need to go pick up that spa voucher for your mum, i'll get the gift hampers for my cousins. we need to get some chocolate stockings for my nephews, the jersey your brother wanted is ready to be collected from JD-" you read off, leah humming to acknowledge each thing.

"-then we'll do mila's santa sack on christmas eve once she's asleep, or i'll do it." you paused to shoot your wife a pointed look as she winced, having had one whisky too many last year and falling into the christmas tree at three in the morning while the two of you were busy putting out your daughters presents.

"i said i was sorry! she didn't wake up, did she?" leah defended as you clicked your tongue. "didn't she?" you reminded, leah wincing again as she thought back to the two of you falling over yourselves to hide when little footsteps had come thundering down the hall.

"you are so lucky i can think fast dopey." you warned, having managed to commando crawl your way to your room and intercept your daughter from behind as if you'd been asleep there the whole time.

you'd rambled out an excuse about santa being able to turn invisible so he can hide from the police as the four year old questioned over and over why she couldn't go and say hi or open her presents now.

"-and then you got mila the barbie deluxe dream house. have you wrapped it yet? i couldn't find it in the closet with everything else for her." you spun around on your chair and quirked an eyebrow, leah freezing for a second.

"i got the what?" the blonde asked cluelessly as your eyes narrowed, hands moving to grip the arms of your chair as you exhaled slowly. "you got the barbie deluxe dream house with the swing sets, the slide, the elevator and the pool." you started, pushing to stand up.

"aka the only thing our daughter has been talking about for the last three weeks and the only thing she's asked santa for for christmas, leah." you spoke calmly but your wife could immediately pick up on the sharp scent of malice hidden behind your words.

now she needed to think fast.

"oh! that dreamhouse, the bright pink one with the little slide yeah yeah yeah." leah scoffed, smacking her palm against her forehead. "i got it ages ago babe, forgot all about it! you can tick it off your little list." the blonde grinned confidently with a wave of her hand.

"you did?" "well you asked me to, didn't you?" "well where is it?" "its uhh..." leah trailed off, wracking her brain for an answer, your foot tapping impatiently as you stared her down, arms crossed and hip jutted out to the side.

"it's at lia's! it was too big to hide and you know what mila's like." leah chuckled and you hummed. "mm nosy? wonder where she gets that from." you teased, relaxing a little more and leaning in to peck her lips a few times appreciatively.

"well thats a relief, it's sold out country wide. good luck to anyone who was planning on some last minute shopping, that stupid chunk of plastic would be impossible to find!" you chuckled, returning to your seat and your list as leah hid the panic building rapidly in her body.

"but what our little angel wants, she gets." you made a point to tick it off your list with a deep exhale. "mm and i wonder where she gets that from, princess." your wife teased, ducking down and stealing a kiss before you could argue with her.

"well i'm off! might take her for a kick around if she's got loose energy to burn off. bye babe!" leah sung out, practically already halfway out the front door before you could even look up, jumping in shock hearing it slam close after her.

alone in her car leah slumped into her seat, staring blankly ahead and running her hands down her face with a frustrated groan, moving to grab the steering wheel.

"shit!"

"-then we learned this one that went HIYA AYA HIYA!" your daughter chanted, punching and kicking at thin air as leah clicked the buckles of her car seat in, just ducking out of the way as little arms and fists began swinging.

"thats really great bubba when we get home you can show me everything, just give me a second to call aunty beth yeah?" leah flashed the girl a smile who shrugged, busying herself practicing her karate as leah shut the door.

"come on come on come on." leah chanted as she clicked call, tapping her foot impatiently as the dial tone rang and rang, right as she was about to hang up and move to her next option finally it clicked through.

"well well miss leah catherine, to what do i owe the ple-" leah didn't even let the poor girl finish before she was jumping in.

"imayhaveforgottentogettheonlypresentmilawantedandifidontgetitbothmydaughterandmywifearegoingtokillmeonchristmasandiamsoabsoloutelyutterlyfucked!" leah rambled out in one breath, beth going silent for a moment.

"come again? in english this time please if you would be so kind." "i may have forgotten to get the only present mila wanted and if i don't get it both my daughter and my wife are going to kill me on christmas and i am so absolutely utterly fucked." leah exhaled shakily, wiggling her fingers at mila through the window who knocked and pulled a face.

"so you've clearly called me to make funeral arrangements then? well i was thinking instead of a euology i could-" "beth come on man! i'm serious here, i need help."

"well that's quite the understatement. but right, whats the plan then captain?"

"-baby are you sure you don't need anything?" you asked softly, knelt down by the bed and pushing a few loose hairs out of your wifes face. "nah just some rest babe, i'm so sorry i can't make it." leah croaked out as your lips curled downward into a frown.

"don't be sorry lee, i'm sorry you're feeling so miserable on christmas eve, of course today of all days your migraines come back. " you pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, nails scratching gently at her scalp as your wife sighed.

"get some sleep, i love you." you pecked her lips sweetly before you pushed to stand, hearing little foosteps come thundering down the hall as you did.

"woah! we have speed limits in this household little miss ferrari." you scooped her up before she could launch herself up and onto the bed like you knew she'd planned. "little miss aston martin!" mila frowned and poked at your chest, your wifes little cheeky smile up at you in response having your eyes rolling.

"say bye to mummy but be gentle please mils she's not feeling well. remember?" you set her back down as your daughter nodded. "one for you, one for me and one for your sore head." mila pressed three kisses to leahs cheek who smiled, stretching a hand out to pinch the five year olds cheek fondly.

"thank you bubba, you'll give nanna an extra big kiss for me yeah?" leah warned as mila nodded dutifully, squealing as leahs fingers dug into her side and she grabbed onto your leg hiding behind it.

"get some sleep baby." you chuckled, ducking down to peck her lips again, hearing some enthusiastic gagging sound behind you. "yuck!" your daughter retched as your eyes rolled again. "hey bubba?" leah called out, mila peeking out from where she'd hidden her face behind her hands.

"leah!" you laughed as your wife pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, mila falling to the floor dramatically and covering her face again, pretending to throw up everywhere as you gently smacked your wifes shoulder and she winked.

"come on trouble, lets go let you loose on that poor nursing home."

leah waited patiently in bed until she'd heard the front door shut, and then heard the car engine start, then till she heard it back out of the driveway, and then another five minutes just to be sure.

the two sharp honks in the driveway was all she needed, leaping out of bed already dressed and ready to go, grabbing a beanie and some sunglasses on the way and wrestling on her shoes as she hopped to the front door.

"stop honking you idiot my neighbours!" leah hissed as she hurried down the front steps, beth honking her hello and rolling her eyes at the way the blonde yanked the beanie down her head as if it would disguise her somewhat when she'd come flying out of her own house.

"good mornin to you 007! where we goin first then?" "tommys toy world, and step on it!"

"leah man how many more places are we going to be laughed out of? get the kid a samari sword and call it a day, she's into her karate now ain't she?" beth groaned, leah huffing impatiently and taking her hand, yanking her down the travelator mumbling apologies so everyone she pushed past on the way.

"i can't beth! i said i bought it months ago and-" "-and you'll be in the doghouse until next christmas. yeah yeah yeah, need i remind you got yourself into this mess leah? i told you ya memorys bad!" "yes beth i am well aware whose fault this is, which is why i need to get myself out of this mess! for the sake of my child and my marriage!" leah huffed, only letting go of the younger girls hand the moment they stepped into the toy store.

"sorry." beth apologised quickly to an older gentlemen who leah had nearly bowled over in her haste, the man grumbling about basic manners going missing this time of year as he walked off.

this store the ninth one they'd trekked to already this morning beth was well aware of the drill, rolling her eyes and trudging after leah who wasted no time sprinting off to wherever the barbies and accessories were kept.

she grabbed some toys for myle along the way, stopping for a second too long to admire a lego set before a hand grabbed the back of her jumper and violently yanked her away.

"don't you manhandle me williamson!" beth scoffed smacking her friends hands away but hurrying after her none the less. "oh for fuck sakes come on there's gotta be one fucking dream house left in london!" leah swore, eyes scanning the aisle which was assaulting bright pink and made beth wince at the sight.

"so sorry." beth apologised again but this time to to the horrified looking mother dragging away her toddler whose ears were firmly covered, beth sending a weak wave the girls way before she dissapeared.

"can i help you?" a worker appeared seemingly out of nowhere, concern ingrained into his features as leah grunted and grumbled to herself, riffling through the shelves as beth hurried to put back what she took off.

"god i bloody hope so mate." leah groaned, dragging her hands down her face with a stressed exhale as the worker chuckled. "last minute shopping huh?" the man chuckled as beth snickered. "you have no idea." earning her an elbow and a glare from leah.

"what are you after? we did just get a last minute pallet that hasn't been unloaded yet so i can check if its out back, we're about to restock the shelves since we're open until nine tonight for people like yourself." the man smiled kindly as leah perked up and beth snickered again in amusement, her shopping done weeks ago.

"barbie dreamhouse." leah hurried out, the man nodding and punching something into the little black box in his hand. "we have the malibu playhouse, the 60th anniversary edition, kens mojo dojo casa house-" the man read out as leah shook her head.

"no no, the deluxe dreamhouse. with the swingsets and the slide and the pool and-" leah couldn't even finish before it happened, the same response she'd gotten at every single store so far today and then some.

"that? you're looking on christmas eve for that? do you know how many have been sold country wide in the last week let alone the last month? its the toy of the year! not to mention sales have skyrocketed since-" the man laughed as leahs face fell, then very quickly distorted into a scowl.

"yeah brilliant. do you have it or not?" leah interrupted, crossing her arms as the man gave her an incredulous look. "of course not! its been sold out for weeks UK wide, you don't read the news?" the man laughed in disbelief, though his question fell on deaf ears as leah turned heel and stormed off again.

as much as beth tried the stony faced blonde didn't say another word until they were both back in the car. "fuck!" leah swore, smacking her hands against the dashboard and making her friend jump.

"oi! respect the vehicle. its not her fault you left all of this to the last minute!" beth warned, sticking her key in the ignition as leah ignored her and pulled out her phone, exhaling with a small amount of relief as she checked your location and could see you still weren't home.

"right. where to next?" beth sighed deeply, leah slumping back in her seat. "that was the last one." the blonde responded bluntly, beth wincing and whistling quietly under her breath.

"call it a day and head home then? i'll drive slow so you can practice your grovelling and begging for forgiveness." beth shrugged, grinning as leah shot her a dry unimpressed look.

"no, not home." "leah then where-" "it's time to pull out the big guns." "call your wife, explain what happened and take her anger on the chin?"

at that leah scrunched up her face with disgust. "god no." leah shook her head, leaning forward and punching in the address as beth watched on curiously, a puff of amused air leaving her lips as she recognized it right away.

"i've got no choice beth. i've gotta call in the godmother."

"-so you lied." alessia cocked an eyebrow, sipping at her tea as leah exhaled heavily. "not lied but-" she fell quiet at the fiercely withering look sent her way by the younger blonde across from her.

"okay yes. i forgot and i lied and i am so so so unbelievably screwed less." leah whined, her own cup of tea left empty on the coffee table as the defender slumped down into the couch burying her face in her hands.

"yes, yes you are." alessia agreed with a nod, leah peeking out with narrowed eyes. "i came here for advice! not for you to agree with me for once." leah mumbed moodily as the striker smiled, sculling her last mouthful of tea with a hum.

"i have a feeling things are about to look up for you lee." was all the girl said, squeezing her knee as she stood, grabbed their empty mugs and headed back to the kitchen.

"how!" leah called after her with confusion, attention grabbed by the sounds of a key in the door, eyes widening at the familiar little thump of feet which followed.

"aunty lessi!" mila squealed, ignoring your shouts after her to take her shoes, coat and scarf off as the five year old came barreling into the kitchen. "hello little marshmallow." alessia grinned, scooping up the small girl and kissing over her face making her giggle.

"i'm puffy!" mila smacked her coat covered chest as you arrived and rolled your eyes with a smile, alessia sitting your daughter down on the counter and helping her to shrug off her many layers as she babbled on and on and on about their day.

"shit! shit shit shit shit." leah whispered in a panic, crouching down and trying to peek over the top of the couch as her mind scrambled to try and think of an escape plan, groaning quietly as she realised that came to a screaming halt when she didn't have a car, beth dropping her off and leaving.

"hi babe." leah sprang up like she'd sat on an electrical wire, coming thumping back to the ground with a grunt, staring up horrified at your scarily calm smile which looked down at her.

"um i can explain! it is not what it looks like." leah tried, running a hand through her hair and stumbling over herself to think of a valid excuse. "save it leah, i knew you'd be here eventually. granted maybe not just yet, you hit the stores faster than i thought!" you shrugged honestly, rounding the couch as leahs mouth formed an o and she pulled herself to stand.

"sorry. pause, rewind, repeat. come again?" leah asked slowly, sure she'd heard wrong as you chuckled. "please. leah baby we've been together for years, you think i can't tell when you're lying? faking sick? my love you are a terrible actor." you laughed with a shake of your head.

"forgive me, i'm a little lost here." was all your wife managed to get out, the two of you glancing over your shoulder at a thump and the sound of laughter, alessia stood with mila sat on her shoulders, making the girl with a pit of a stomach a sandwich.

"hi mummy, mama and i missed you!" mila noticed, waving furiously at leah from the other room who cautiously raised a hand and waved back, alessia sending her a wink and recapturing mila's attention as you clicked your fingers to gain hers.

"come with me williamson." you patted her chest with a wink, nodding for her to follow you as you took off down the hall, leah following you slowly, feeling a little as though she was walking to her own funeral.

the older girl hung in the doorway, watching as you rummaged through the wardrobe in alessia's spare bedroom, which judging by the arsenal sheets and toys strung about anywhere was basically your daughters room, mila loving her 'big girl' sleepovers with her aunties, alessia most of all being her godmother and your closest friend.

"close the door please." you spoke with your back still to her, leah hesitantly stepping inside and doing so. "sit on the bed." you asked next, leah still highly suspicious but also quite scared to say no wasting no time following your instructions.

"eyes closed."

"if you're going to kill me i'd rather see it coming darling." leah sighed making you snort out in laughter, shooting her a look over your shoulder as your wife sighed but closed her eyes none the less.

she flinched a little feeling something touch her hands, making your eyes roll as you assured it wasn't a weapon. "open." you smiled, half the package in her grip as the other remained in yours.

it was rare the outspoken defender was speechless, however clearly the sight of the toy she'd just spent the last six hours hunting for in perfect mint condition, sat in her hands, had rendered her tongue and words void.

"but-but-but-" she eventually stammered out as you merely smirked and nodded. "yes, yes, yes." you countered, tugging it out of her hands and setting it carefully down on the floor, leah immediately sliding off the bed and dropping to her knees.

"the barbie deluxe dreamhouse. with the fridge, the swing sets, the slide, the pool, the-" "yep, everything, all the bells and whistles." you took her seat on the edge of the bed, leah giving you an incredulous look. "but how did you even..." she trailed off, eyebrows scrunched together in pure utter confusion.

"please. leah did you really think i wouldn't have everything organised?" you scoffed quirking an eyebrow as leahs mouth opened and closed and she shook her head back and forth.

"so you knew-" "that you were lying? yes." "and you already-" "bought it weeks ago? absolutely." "but then you-" "sent you on an impossible wild goose chase around london for something i knew you wouldn't find and i already had? i most certainly did." you confirmed with a confident nod as leah seemed to crumple into a heap.

"i'd encourage you choose your next words very very carefully my love, especially if you'd like to have a merry christmas." your tone sharpened as a scowl set into your wifes features, wiped away as soon as it appeared.

"oh leah, get off me!" you huffed as within seconds she'd pounced, pinning you to the bed and kissing all over your face mumbling her thank you's. "i'm still mad at you! you lied to me, and i gave you the chance to be honest." you warned, leah stopping with lips puckered hovering just over yours, wincing and sitting up.

"oh really leah!" you groaned as again she flopped down on top of you, now mumbling how sorry she was as again her lips rained down kisses on every inch of your skin she could reach.

"get off me you dickhead and put the dreamhouse away before mila see's it!" you warned with a roll of your eyes, pushing her off of you as the blonde hurried to do just that, slotting it back on top of the cupboard where it was well out of sight or reach of your overtly inquisitive five year old.

"i really am sorry. so so so so so sorry my girl!" leah winced as she stood in between your legs where you'd sat up. "oh you will be. you're on clean up duty, today, tomorrow, tonight, boxing day, new years eve, new years day-" you rattled off, words swallowed by your wife leaning down and pressing her mouth against yours.

"done. i love you." leah pulled away and promised, shuffling back a little to allow you to stand up as you hummed. "i love you too, even if you are hopelessly disorganized." you sighed with a small smile.

"well thats why i married you." "don't push it williamson." you warned as she grinned, stealing another kiss as a crash was heard and both of you looked to the closed door.

"we should probably go sort that out." leah sighed, starting to head for the door as you tugged her back, hand slipping up her hoodie and fingers playing with the waistband of her jeans.

"let less tire her out for a bit baby, the earlier she crashes tonight after some movies and the cookies you'll sneak her when you both think i'm not looking, the better." you smiled as leah chuckled, unable to argue the fact.

"more time to play santa." leah agreed with a wink, pecking your lips and tensing a little as your fingers poked into her abs and you leaned up to speak into her ear a little more.

"mm and once the presents are sorted, i'd quite like to sit in santas lap, maybe give her sleigh a ride if she's earned it." you whispered, leah jolting as your hand smacked against her ass and with a cheeky grin you were sauntering off leaving the door open after you and your wifes cheeks flushed red.

"dear god i love christmas."

#leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #alessia russo x reader

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ellieslittleslutt · 2 months ago

Text

Taking Care of Sick!Ellie :(

cw: not much but fluff and i guess being naked but innocently. not proofread (sorry for typos)

a/n: i love her sm also someone tell me how to make a master list☹️

MEN DNI!!!

──────˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ──────

ellie was always a stubborn person. she never liked to admit when she needed help or something from you. she liked to seem like a strong person and she is but you can always tell when she needed to just relax.

one day after getting home from your shift you walked into your shared apartment. “els im home” you announced but there was no reply. you kick off your shoes walking over to your room to see ellie curled up in bed sniffling while fast asleep looking flushed and sweaty. you tilted your head trying to figure out what was wrong.

putting your bag down and coat on the desk you walk over sitting by ellie brushing her little baby hairs that stuck to her forehead back. you slowly connected the dots with her heavy breathing and red nose that she was sick which was inevitable considering it was autumn.

“baby” you whisper softly to wake her up. her eyes peel open and she did not look well “mh?” she hummed wiping her nose with the back of her hand worry furrowing your eyebrows. you collected the tissues around her throwing them away “you sick?” you ask her softly and to that she just nods closing her eyes again.

“do you want me to stay or get you something to eat?” you whisper tucking her in and she doesn’t answer basically asleep again. “i’m gonna take that as stay”

lying in bed with her she was cuddled to you head on your shoulder as you held her close her feverish skin against yours. she was rambling about her comics voice all groggy and stuffy. you suggested the idea of taking a bath to try and relax a bit and she agreed getting up and sluggishly walking to the bathroom.

you ran the bath for her turning the water just a bit cooler than it normally was while she sat on the floor watching you put bubbles in because let’s be real she needs them.

she undresses and climbs in sinking into the water while you start washing off all the sweat.

“you should’ve called me when you were sick i would’ve come home and take care of you” you tell her while she sinks into the bubbles “mh jus’ brim’ dramatic” she mumbles the water bubbling from her talking. you chuckle softly and kiss her forehead “mhm you’re not looking to hot there”

you left her to soak in there for a few minutes while you ran her clothes and towels in the drier to warm up a bit

when you came back she was playing with the bubbles. you sat back down next to her “come on let’s get back to bed” you say grabbing her hands to pull her up and she groans her body aching a bit.

when you wrap the warm towel around her she leaned against yours head on your shoulder putting all her body weight on you “ellie you gotta sit up” you chuckle rubbing her arms through the towel “im tiredddd” she whines letting you pull up her boxers and sleep shorts.

a few hours later she was curled up against yours head a half eaten bowl of soup and crackers on the table while the tv was on. she was asleep her nose drippy and breathing heavy while she clung to you.

you were definitely getting sick next week.

──────˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ──────

#tlou2 #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #loser!ellie #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #tlou abby

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ventismacchiato · 19 days ago

Text

17 stuck with you — jealousy jealousy !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

content warning: oblivious idiots

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT: YOUR POINT OF VIEW

When you and the others returned from the island, you walked into the dorms to find everyone either drunk or in the process of getting there. When Yae asked what everyone wanted for catering, the unanimous answer was alcohol—until Jean reminded them they’d need food too.

You’d had a drink or two and were playing a halfhearted game of cards on the floor with Venti and Aether. Nobody seemed interested in going to bed. Getting drunk was the perfect way to forget the stress of the show.

Scara sat near the door, absentmindedly pulling out blocks in the game of Jenga Fischl had set up beside him. The atmosphere was surprisingly calm…for now.

Then Mona stood up from where she’d been teaching Yoimiya how to make a drink and plopped down next to Scara. He didn’t look too thrilled by the move.

“So, Kuni?” she slurred.

You froze at the name. Scara had made it clear that nobody but you called him that.

“Don’t call me that,” Scara muttered, his voice flat.

“Aww, why not? I thought I meant more than that,” Mona teased, clearly influenced by the alcohol.

“Can you go bother someone else?” Scara shot back.

“Don’t be like that!” Mona huffed, nudging him with her shoulder. “Want a massage? You used to love my massages.” She said the last part while looking directly at you, her hand casually caressing Scara’s shoulder. You quickly looked away, trying not to make it obvious that you were listening.

Scara removed her hand from his shoulder, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Mona didn’t let it go.

“Why won’t you just pay attention to me?” she whined, leaning closer.

“Can you not?” Scara finally turned to face her, his voice sharp. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

At this point, the whole room was trying to act like they weren’t paying attention, but it was clear they were all watching

“I just wanted to talk—” Mona began, but Scara interrupted her.

“I mean, what are you doing on this island?”

“I came to win you over,” Mona said, as though the answer was obvious.

“You’re the one who broke up with me,” Scara huffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Mona took a long swig from her drink, unfazed.

“I didn’t want to,” she sighed, her voice thick with alcohol. “I would’ve stuck it out if your mom hadn’t… well…”

You felt a flush of heat spread across your face at the mention of Scara’s mother. You weren’t the only one who noticed; Childe, Aether, and Kazuha exchanged glances, each looking more uncomfortable by the second.

Scara grabbed Mona’s glass from her hand, his fingers tight around it. “You should shut up.”

Mona, however, was too far gone to be deterred.

“How could I not take the contract? You know how bad my old management was. I had no choice. It was either that or you. You know how it is.”

It was only when she noticed the entire room was staring at her that a little sobriety seemed to return. She clamped her palm over her mouth and stared at Scara, wide-eyed.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to say that,” she mumbled, her voice the most sincere it had been all night.

Scara didn’t answer. He just stared at the ground, his face unreadable, while Mona rambled her apology. The rest of the room shifted awkwardly, unsure if they should intervene or just let it pass. You could feel your heart race, had that been the real reason for their breakup? You had always thought Scara had ended things on his own terms.

Mona reached out for him, but Scara stood up abruptly, stepping over the scattered Jenga blocks on the floor as he moved toward the door. It creaked open, letting in a cold gust of night air before slamming shut behind him.

The room fell silent for a moment. Then, Mona stood, swaying slightly, and started after him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Kazuha murmured, but his words were drowned out by the sound of the door shutting once again.

“Did you guys know about all that?” Venti asked, turning to Aether.

“Since it’s out in the open, yeah,” Aether sighed.

“We need to stop giving her drinks,” Lumine muttered under her breath.

“I’m kind of worried about Mona going after him,” Childe said, rising from his seat to peer out the window. “Knowing Scara, he might drown himself… or her.”

“I’ll go be a witness to the murder then,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Childe gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as you made your way out the door.

You didn’t know why you felt the sudden urge to follow him. It had always been about trying to surpass him before. But tonight…tonight you just wanted to catch up to him. To be equals.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

The bench is cold beneath him and the sea breeze is a sharp slap against his face as he stares out at the crashing waves. It’s quiet but it does little to distract him from the turmoil in his chest. His fingers curl around the cigarette, the thin paper already loose from where he pocketed it earlier. He twirls it between his fingers absently, trying to focus on the motions instead of his thoughts.

The urge to light it is almost unbearable. He can almost feel the familiar ache, the way the smoke would crawl its way down his lungs and quiet everything inside him. It would help him forget. At least for a little while.

But he promised he wouldn’t.

Your words echo in his head like a soft, repeated prayer, something that clings to him even when he’s alone. He knows if he takes that drag, it’s one more step back from everything he's trying to hold onto. One more thing he’ll have to explain to you, and he can’t stomach that right now.

So instead, he flicks the cigarette into the sand, watching it settle there like a tiny, forgotten thing, and then turns his gaze back to the sea. His breath hitches in his chest. If it isn’t the lack of nicotine that’s bothering him, it’s something else. Something sharper, older.

Something that happened more than a year ago.

Mona’s slurred words made the memory hit him with the force of a slap. It wasn’t her betrayal that stung, not really. He knew the two of them were never that serious. But it was the fact that she had chosen his mother over him. The fact that his own mother had paid her off like it was nothing.

Mona had once been sweet back when they first met. Her determination to be an idol had reminded him of you in a way. Maybe he was just searching for a piece of you in anyone he could find.

“Scara?”

He doesn’t have to turn to know it’s her. He can smell the alcohol before he hears the soft, slurred voice, and when he finally looks up, there she is, weaving on unsteady feet, her hair tangled around her shoulders, eyes glazed.

She’s drunk.

God, what a fucking mess.

“I—uh—can I sit?” She hiccups, and despite himself, he shifts slightly to make room on the bench, the muscles in his back tense, coiled, but his body obeys the unspoken politeness he’d long been taught.

Mona doesn’t wait for a response. She just slumps beside him, her hands gripping her knees like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“I didn’t mean it,” she says after a long silence, the words coming out in a rush, broken by more hiccups. “I didn’t mean to say it to everyone. I swear, I didn’t. I was just—I was just trying to make you… jealous, or something.”

Scara doesn’t say anything. He can already feel his patience wearing thin, his hand tightening into a fist. He knows where this is going.

“You know how I get when I drink,” she continues, her voice small, vulnerable in a way that makes his gut twist. She leans into him, her breath warm and sour with alcohol. “I was just trying to get a rise out of you. I thought... maybe it’d make you care more. Maybe it’d make you feel something for once, you know?”

He stares ahead, trying to focus on the horizon, trying to avoid the heat of her body next to his, the smell of liquor clinging to her like a second skin. She’s slurring more now, and with every word, the tension in his chest grows heavier, pressing down until he’s almost suffocating.

He can feel her swaying beside him, her body suddenly lurching forward as she clutches her stomach. He reaches out instinctively, used to her being like this, his hand awkwardly rubbing her back just to keep her from falling over. She feels so fragile in his touch, but that fragility doesn’t excuse the way she’s always tried to pull him back into her drama.

She leans in, too close again, her words spilling out in a rush like she's been holding them back for too long.

“You know...” she starts, her eyes dark and unfocused. “I only started acting out because you wouldn’t pay me any attention anymore. You were always complaining about YN. Always.”

She lets out a short, frustrated laugh, and then hiccups, her face flushing. “I know it wasn’t love, Scara. I’m not stupid. It was just a stupid distraction wasn’t it, from whatever you felt for them.”

He looks over at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“Even if you didn’t realize it back then, I did. Even if all we had was physical you can’t deny it worked. We were good at that. So yeah, I got a little carried away. But if you hadn’t been so busy chasing them around, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”

He can’t even find it in himself to deny it. After he had started dating her you’d started avoiding him for one reason or another. Maybe you thought everyone would get the wrong idea.

But it killed him.

“That doesn’t mean you can just run off and take the first offer my mom gives to you,” he snaps, his tone cutting. “If you really didn’t like the way I treated you that badly, you could’ve left. You could’ve walked away. No one was holding you here.”

He shakes his head, frustrated they were having this talk now of all time, “But you didn’t, did you? You stayed. Because you knew being with me—even if it wasn’t love—would give you the eyes on you that you wanted so damn badly.”

“You’re right,” she admits, the words coming out quietly. “ But I didn’t know what else to do. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”

Scara scoffs at that.

“It didn’t look like it. All I saw was someone who was more interested in being the center of attention than me,” He shakes his head, turning his back to her for a moment. Honestly, he could keep going. But they were only having this conversation because she was drunk. There was no point, he was over it.

He exhales sharply, his tone flat when he speaks again, as if he’s just given up.

"Yeah, okay," Scara mutters, voice distant. "It's fine. It’s not like you’ll even remember this tomorrow, anyway.”

It’s the only thing he says, just to make the whole thing stop. He knows she’s looking for something else. An apology, maybe, or some kind of validation. But he’s too fucking tired to give her that now. And it’s not like he’s going to receive one.

"Really?" Her voice rises in a way that makes him want to shove her away. "You're fine with it?"

He doesn’t respond, though now he’s just waiting for her to puke all over him. The sound of the ocean lapping against the shore is the only thing filling the silence, until she’s leaning in closer, her breath hot on his ear, her face too close.

“You know,” she whispers, her words slurred and soft, “I wouldn't mind going back to what we had. Just for a night.”

Before he can stop her, she’s pressing her lips to his, soft and insistent, her body leaning into his as though this is what she’s been waiting for all along. Her mouth is warm, her hands finding their way to his chest, and for a moment, Scara’s heart stops.

Not because he wants it, but because he doesn’t.

He’s frozen, a quiet alarm ringing in his head. This isn’t real. This isn’t what he wants. Not from her.

Even if it was only for a few seconds, the moment stretches too long until he can finally pry her away from him. And when he does finally pull back, his hand is shaking.

“Don’t do that,” he says, voice tight with something: frustration, anger, confusion, maybe a little bit of pain. “Don’t try to fix this with... that.”

She blinks at him, confused, the haze of alcohol still clouding her eyes. "But... but I thought... we could—"

He stands up abruptly, cutting her off before she can make this worse. "Just... don't." The words hang in the air, heavy with finality.

She looks rather pitiful sitting on the bench like that, and he almost feels bad. Almost.

“You should just go,” he says, his voice flat, the exhaustion finally catching up to him.

But then, as he turns to leave, he sees you.

In the distance, walking towards the kitchens, your figure framed by the fading light. Seeing you makes something inside him twist. He starts to wonder why you’d come out soon after he stormed off. The idea of you coming back, walking over to him like you actually care. Just that thought is enough to loosen the tight knot in his chest. He didn’t even realize how much he was holding his breath, waiting for it. For a moment, he lets himself imagine you doing it. He almost expects it, but the longer he stands there, the more he realizes it’s just a fantasy. He watches you for a moment, then his stomach drops when he realizes if you were out there you must’ve walked by him.

You had seen the kiss.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Your feet moved before your brain had a chance to tell you no. It was a strange instinct, one you didn’t quite understand. You’d never been one to comfort Scara. You’d been at odds with him for as long as you could remember, enemies in every sense of the word.

But after what you’d learned about his mother just the thought of him being alone, struggling with it, gnawed at you. You wanted to check on him. You needed to check on him.

The island was massive, and Scara wasn’t exactly known for his athleticism, so you figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find him. Still, your mind raced as you walked, trying to come up with something, anything, that would make him feel even a fraction better. What could you say to him that wouldn’t sound patronizing, or worse, awkward? You weren’t even sure you could help him, but you had to try.

And then, there it was.

The beach. The bench. The figure slumped against it. Scara. The cigarette in his hand. You’d found him.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to steady yourself. This wasn’t a time to lose control. But before you could take another step, your eyes caught the familiar outline of someone else. Mona. She was walking toward him, wobbling a little as she approached, and suddenly the moment felt off.

You stopped in your tracks, half hidden by a few tall bushes nearby, your body suddenly rooted in place. You should’ve turned around and gone back to the party. Scara was clearly occupied. He would be okay, right?

But no. Your eyes stayed locked on the two of them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away.

Mona was standing next to him now, her chest heaving slightly from hiccups, and her words were slurred as she spoke. Scara wasn’t saying much, but his hand moved, almost instinctively, it seemed, to rub her back, slow and careful. As if he was...comforting her. You felt your pulse quicken, a strange sense of something building up in your chest, something like a heavy weight pressing down on your ribs.

A normal person would’ve walked away, turned around and walked back to the party, chalking it up to nothing more than two people talking, nothing more than Scara being himself. But you were never normal when it came to Scara. So instead, you stayed rooted in the shadow, just watching like some creep. The words you had rehearsed in your head seemed meaningless now, overshadowed by the confusion swelling inside you. What was happening?

And then, without warning, you saw it.

Mona leaned in, her lips pressing against Scara’s.

The world tilted on its axis. You didn’t even know how to react at first. A cold knot of jealousy, something sharp and unexpected, wrapped around your chest, and you felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs.

Scara, someone you’d considered your mortal enemy, the person you had spent years fighting against, was kissing Mona. She wasn’t even trying to hide it, her hands clinging to his chest. Just the sight was enough to leave you standing there, paralyzed.

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care.

It was a mantra you were repeating in your head. But the jealousy gnawed at you in a way you didn’t understand, the sting in your chest a sharp reminder that maybe you cared a lot more than you’d ever let on. You’d always been jealous of Scara throughout the years, that feeling was something familiar. But this was something different. Your stomach is twisting with something you couldn’t name. Something that hurt to acknowledge.

Oh.

Without even thinking, you turned away, stepping back into the shadows, your feet felt heavy beneath you. You had no idea what you were feeling anymore. Or you did, but you couldn’t even voice it.

Scara was kissing Mona. Your Scara. Your Kuni. And you were standing there, like a fool.

If you had run after him a bit faster would you be the one he’d be kissing? That wasn’t the problem, though. No. The thing that bothered you the most was the way it made you feel like an outsider. The way it reminded you, in an almost painful way, that you weren’t the one he turned to for comfort.

That was how it had always been. Always. It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You didn’t know when it happened. Maybe it was the way he looked at you when he was angry, or the way he tried to hide his vulnerabilities. Maybe it was the constant back-and-forth, the challenge. Maybe it was the fact that he was always there, whether it be to hit you with a snarky remark or laugh at you when you fell second to him again. He’d always been there.

But you cared. And that made you want to punch something, or scream, or both. You’d never imagined a day when you would care about Scara in any way other than annoyance, or the irritation of seeing him always one step ahead.

Suddenly, your feet moved as fast as they could to get you out of there.

The walk from the beach to the kitchens feels like it takes longer than it should. The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off.

You step into the kitchens, the cool air inside a sharp contrast to the warmth of the night outside. The lights are low, casting shadows over the countertops, still littered from the dishes from earlier. A clink of glass catches your attention first, and then a familiar voice.

“You finally made it in here.”

You stop, looking up until your eyes land on Heizou. His casual smile is the same one he always had, though there's something softer in it tonight, like he’s been waiting. He’s got a glass of water in his hand, and you realize he must’ve been looking for you. He’s the last person you want to see right now, but he doesn’t seem surprised by your presence.

“You didn’t go back to the party,” he continues, setting the glass down on the counter. “I figured you might be hiding in here. You don’t look like you’re in the mood for another drink.”

You’re about to reply, but he catches you off guard by speaking up.

“Are you okay?”

You pause. It’s a simple question, but for some reason, it feels heavy. Before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out.

“No, I’m not okay,” you start, your voice a little more brittle than you intended.

“I just... I just watched him. Scara. I saw him with Mona. It’s like everything I’ve been trying to avoid came crashing down in front of me. I don’t even know what to feel. It’s just... why is everything so complicated? Why does he have to make things so complicated?”

Heizou doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t look at you like you’re insane for spilling everything. He just watches, his calm expression making the chaos in your head even more prominent.

“Is that really what’s bothering you?” he asks softly, the faintest hint of concern in his eyes.

You blink, realizing that you’ve been ranting and completely unaware of how you’ve been projecting everything onto him. Heizou seems to sense it too, because next thing you know, he’s stepping closer, his presence warm and steady as he leans a little into the counter beside you.

“Hey,” he says, his tone gentle. “Come on. You need to relax.”

Before you can protest, Heizou wraps a reassuring arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. He places a hand lightly on your head, urging you to lean into him. You hesitate for a moment before giving in, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His body is a familiar comfort, though you didn’t expect it to be this comforting tonight. In the quiet of the kitchen, you realize how exhausted you are.

“You know,” Heizou says, his voice quiet but teasing, “I have no chance now, do I?”

You blink, not fully processing his words. “Huh?”

Heizou laughs softly, caressing his hand over your cheek, “Still as oblivious as ever, huh?”

You feel your brow furrow. “What are you talking about?”

Heizou’s fingers brush through your hair gently, like he’s trying to sort through his own thoughts. “It’s him, right?”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your heart beating a little faster. “What? No. I—”

But before you can finish, Heizou cuts you off, a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, I saw you two kiss on the show. The hot tub.” He pauses, studying your face for any shift. “It was... something, wasn’t it?”

You feel your stomach tighten, the thought of the kiss now a distant, uncomfortable memory. “You know that was fake, right?” you say quickly, trying to downplay it. “It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the show.”

Heizou’s eyes stay locked on yours for a long moment, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. He nods slowly, but there’s a slight edge to his tone. “Yeah, I get it. But it was your first kiss, right? It had to have meant something. At least to you.”

You swallow, the words suddenly feeling sharp. Your chest tightens, and you know you have to say something. You didn’t want to hurt Heizou’s feelings after he came all the way out here.

“No. It didn’t,” you say, your voice firm but tinged with something that feels more like a lie than you want to admit. “It was all fake. The kiss...everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

You don’t notice at first, but Heizou’s smile falters just the tiniest bit. “Yeah. Sure,” he says, his voice warmer now, almost wistful.

He doesn’t say anything else, but the silence between you both stretches out, heavy with unspoken understanding. You feel a little stupid for saying so much, for trying to convince him, or even yourself, that it was all nothing. You knew it was far from nothing.

Heizou finally breaks the tension, grabbing the water bottles he came in for. “Yeah, sure. Well, I guess I should get back to the others and sober them up. But... good luck, okay? With everything. With…him.”

You stand there, watching him leave, suddenly realizing you’ve just unloaded more than you intended. But before he walks out the door, Heizou looks back, giving you one last knowing look, then disappears back into the hallway.

You’re still standing there when you hear a soft voice outside the kitchen door.

“Interesting.”

You freeze. Your heart skips a beat.

You turn slowly, your breath catching in your throat when you see Scara standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, like he’s been listening the entire time.

For a second, all you can do is stare at him. And then it hits you, the way Heizou’s words must’ve sounded to him. The way you had tried to downplay the kiss. The way you’d tried to convince Heizou that it meant nothing.

Scara raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused, but his eyes were glazed over with something else. “Didn’t mean anything, huh?”

The words stick in your throat, and before you can even try to explain, the hurt in his eyes is enough to make you realize he’s probably already misunderstood.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

Scara barely registered the words Mona was slurring anymore, his thoughts still tangled in knots from everything that had just happened. The sour taste of her lips still lingered. That wasn’t what bothered him. What bothered him was the thought of you seeing him like that. Seeing him with Mona.

He had to get out of there. Fast.

His mind raced as he stormed off, barely even registering where his feet were taking him. His body moved on autopilot, following after you towards the kitchens.

When he reached the door, he paused for a moment, chest tight with a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. There was a soft clinking sound from inside. The low hum of voices.

And then he heard it.

Heizou. Of course. Scara narrowed his eyes, already annoyed. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

The door was slightly ajar, and without even thinking, Scara found himself inching closer, the need to know what was going on outweighing the nagging voice in his head telling him to turn around. To leave.

What he saw made his stomach churn in a way he hadn’t expected.

You were standing there, your face softer than he’d ever seen it, as Heizou pulled you into his side. The way your body melted into him like it was second nature to be close to him was unsettling, like something sharp had just slid under his skin.

For a second, Scara froze. His thoughts were clouded with the absurdity of it. You with Heizou? Who didn’t know you like he did? Absurd.

It wasn’t like you owed him an explanation. Yet the sight of you resting against him, affectionate, something Scara hadn��t seen you do with him made him... unseen. Like he didn’t belong in your life at all. The knot in his chest pulled tighter.

His breath caught, and before he could do something stupid he stopped himself. What was he even supposed to say? He wasn’t entitled to anything from you. He wasn’t yours.

So he stayed outside, watching. Listening.

He could hear Heizou’s voice, low and teasing, and then yours, soft but firm.

“No. It didn’t,” you said, your voice cutting through the quiet kitchen, and Scara’s chest clenched painfully. “You know that was all fake, right? It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the show.”

His heart skipped a beat, the words slicing through the silence like a blade. His stomach churned, and the weight of them hit him harder than any punch.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. It shouldn’t matter.

But it did.

Scara’s fingers dug into the frame of the door, his knuckles white. The words rang in his ears, repeating over and over. He tried to steady himself, tried to remind himself that it was all a game. The hot tub wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him, until it did.

But hearing you say it, hearing you so casually dismiss the kiss, made him feel like he was choking on something sharp and heavy. It was all fake. He had no right to feel that way.

The worst part was, he didn’t even know what to do with it. With you.

You’d both made it clear from the start that this wasn’t supposed to be anything. A show, a performance. The kiss was meaningless. Just another part of the script. He didn’t expect anything different. But hearing you say it so coldly and without any hesitation made something in him snap.

Before he could take a step back, Heizou’s voice drifted through the door again, a quiet laugh in his tone. “Yeah, sure.”

Scara could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, I get it. But it was your first kiss, right? It had to have meant something. At least to you.” The burgundy haired nuisance continued.

Scara's breath hitched, his chest tightening even further as he leaned in closer to the door, his pulse quickening. He felt an uncontrollable wave of frustration crashing through him. He could feel the words hitting him, one after the other, like Heizou’s voice was a punch to the gut. But worse was the feeling that came with it. The one that told him Heizou was right. That it had meant something. That he had somehow allowed himself to believe that the kiss between you and him had meant something beyond a simple game. He hadn’t realized how stupid you were making him.

But then your voice came through, clear and harsh, “It was all fake. The kiss...everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

Scara’s fingers trembled at the doorframe. The knot in his chest was tightening, twisting around his lungs. You were denying it. Denying him. The kiss, the heat, the rush of it. You were dismissing it like it had been nothing more than a convenient illusion. You weren’t wrong, the rational part of him knew that. That didn’t mean he had hoped you’d thought otherwise.

Everything he had been fighting so hard to bury flared back to life, hotter than before.

Heizou chuckled, a lighthearted sound, but it only made Scara feel more exposed. “Yeah, sure.” Heizou’s voice grew quieter, and Scara heard him getting ready to leave. “Well, I guess I should get back to the others and sober them up. But... good luck, okay? With everything. With…him.”

The kitchen door creaked as it swung open, and Heizou left without a second glance, his footsteps fading down the hall.

He was about to turn and leave, he had too. But just as always with you, he couldn’t help but fight back.

“Interesting.”

You stood there in the doorway, looking caught between embarrassment and something else, your face pale, your eyes flicking nervously between the open door and him.

Scara stared at you for a long moment, his throat tight, before he spoke, his voice low and strained.

“Didn’t mean anything, huh?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Scara lets out a dry chuckle, sharp and almost bitter, before walking off. Your heart is still racing, adrenaline surging through you. The confusion is all still a blur.

And yet you follow him.

Something you’d never do, especially with him. But a part of you still wants to make sure he’s okay. And a bigger part of you doesn’t want him to walk away with the wrong idea.

“Why’d you follow me here?” you ask, your voice louder than you intended, still thick with that adrenaline.

He stops abruptly and turns around, eyes dark, but there’s something else there, too: vulnerability.

“Why did you follow me?” he shoots back, his voice low, taunting almost, but you can hear the frustration beneath it.

You stand there for a moment, trying to find the right words, but your thoughts feel tangled. “I just... wanted to see if you were okay,” you say, quieter now, your shoulders sagging. “I know your mom sucks, but...it seems like you were occupied.” You didn’t mean it to come off as bitter as it did.

Scara freezes for a split second, his gaze narrowing into something hard. “She’s the one who came onto me, okay?” His voice is biting, “I shoved her right off. And you can’t say shit, you were all over him back there.”

For a second, you can’t say anything. You feel a hot flush rise to your face. You take a breath, and then the words spill out, almost before you can stop them. “That didn’t even mean anything,” you mutter. “He was just... comforting me. I said that so he wouldn’t feel bad.” You don’t want to explain why. You’re glad he wasn’t there for the entire conversation.

Scara’s eyes flicker with something sharp. “Fine,” he spits out, hands gesturing in exasperation. “It’s all fake, then. Fine! It doesn’t matter. Whatever, you don’t need to explain yourself.”

You feel the words sting, and before you can even think, you’re snapping back. “Fine! Fine, Scara. If that’s what you want to believe, go ahead.”

You both stand there for a few seconds, glaring at each other, neither of you willing to back down. And then, just like that, you both start walking in the same direction.

You glance at him, a little incredulous. “You go first.”

Scara doesn’t even look at you. “No, you go first.”

“I said it first!” you protest, taking a step forward.

“No, you go.”

A beat of silence. Then, in unison, both of you groan.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath. “This is stupid.”

Neither of you says anything else, but you both start walking again. Side by side, but without speaking. The tension between you hasn’t fully dissipated, but now it’s more muted, like you’re both too tired to keep fighting.

By the time you reach the door to the dorms, the adrenaline has started to drain away, leaving only the residual ache of whatever you two just went through. You both stop at the doorstep, standing for a moment in the cool night air.

Scara's eyes drift lazily over to a bottle resting on the corner of the porch, a forgotten drink from earlier in the evening. Without a word, he picks it up, twists off the cap, and offers it to you, his face impassive.

“Want some?” His voice is quieter now, a little less sharp, though the remnants of the earlier tension still hang in the air.

You take it without thinking, your hand brushing his as you grab the bottle. Your throat feels dry, like you’ve just run a marathon, like everything from tonight has left you parched. He’s always left you out of breath.

You take a long sip, the alcohol burning down your throat, and pass it back. Scara drinks, then hands it back to you with a quiet gesture. You both settle onto the steps, the weight of the night pressing down around you, but the silence feels somehow comfortable now.

You’re not sure why, but with each sip, you feel a little less tense, a little less angry. It’s still there, but it's somehow quieter now. Maybe because it doesn’t feel like you need to have all the answers, not right now. Not with him sitting next to you like this.

For a while, neither of you speaks. The only sound is the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore and the occasional sip from the bottle between you. You pass it back and forth like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The weight of the argument is still there, sure, but somehow it doesn’t matter so much anymore.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

The quiet hum of the night surrounds you both as you sit on the porch, the sounds of crickets and the occasional hum of the waves filling the spaces between breaths. The bottle you’re passing back and forth feels less heavy now, unlike the unspoken things still floating around like ghosts between you and him.

You break the silence first, your voice quieter than you intended. “So, what were you and Mona talking about?”

He doesn’t answer right away, taking a slow swig from the bottle, his eyes fixed somewhere off in the distance. His lips press together in a tight line, but he finally turns to you, his expression unreadable. “Well, she was talking at me, really. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. She was asking if I was ever in love with her…”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, “Well, were you?”

Scara’s gaze shifts. His body is tense. He doesn’t meet your eyes immediately, instead looking off to the side, like he’s searching for something.

He feels the precipice you're both on.

He wants to jump.

“No.”

The word hangs there, and for a moment, everything is still. He can feel the air between you both shift, like the ground beneath your guys’ feet has tilted slightly.

“Really?” you ask, more quietly this time. “How did you know you weren’t in love with her?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He shifts on the step, his foot tapping idly against the wood. He wants to say he just knew, as cliche as that sounds. His eyes are fixed forward now, knowing if he looks at you his words won’t leave his mouth. He takes a swig.

The words come out slowly, like he’s still figuring them out as he speaks.

“I don’t know... I just knew, I guess.” He hesitates, then adds, “What I felt for her is different from what I know love is.”

The silence stretches, and he feels like you’re standing at the edge of something with him.

He’s waiting. He thinks he’s always been waiting for you.

“And you… know what that feels like?” you ask, voice softer now, almost hesitant, like you’re testing the waters.

His eyes finally rake over you.

“I do now.”

You opened your mouth, and he’s hoping something, anything, comes out of it. He felt like he’d just sliced his chest open and was bearing his heart to you with bloodied hands.

His words hang in the air for a long moment, strange and heavy. Your gaze catches his, and for just a second, there’s a flicker in your eyes, something guarded but knowing. Scara holds your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it’s like everything in him stills. The air is thick, as if the words you’ve both danced around are hanging just out of reach. His fingers tighten around the neck of the bottle, the cool glass a stark contrast to the heat creeping up his neck.

He knows this feeling all too well. The way his chest tightens when he realizes something he’s been waiting for will never come. His mother’s attention. You. It’s a feeling he’s all but accustomed too. But there you were, just out of his reach. He doesn’t expect you to understand. Hell, he doesn’t even understand himself half the time. But in that moment, sitting next to you, he wants you too.

The weight of your unspoken words presses on him. But maybe that’s all this will ever be, a weight. The knowledge that he’ll never feel the same way about anyone else and that you’ll never feel the same about him. That thought stabs at him like a shard of ice in his chest, cold and sharp. He wants to say something, but the words aren’t there. Not yet. Not ever, maybe.

“We should go inside,” he murmurs, breaking the silence, his voice almost a whisper against the night’s stillness.

His voice drops further, and he shifts slightly on the step, his leg brushing against yours. It’s an unconscious motion, but it feels deliberate somehow. Like he wants to be closer but knows better than to ask for it.

“Yeah,” you pipe up from beside him, “We should.”

Yet you both sit there for a few more minutes, passing the bottle until nothing is left in its wake. He doesn’t look over at you again, doesn’t dare too. Instead he gets up and goes inside, leaving you behind.

Something you’ve always said he’s good at.

[00:00:00] POST PARADISE DATE TAKE ONE

YAE: So, do you want to talk about today?

SCARAMOUCHE: Talk about what?

YAE: The kiss, obviously. What else would we talk about?

SCARAMOUCHE: What happened to "Hi, how are you?"

YAE: [LAUGHING] This is a safe space.

SCARAMOUCHE: It absolutely is not, but you want to talk about the kiss? Fine. It wasn't real. I didn't even kiss her back, she was drunk and I don't love her. And I'm not that much of an asshole to take advantage of someone drunk. I'm a terrible person, but not that bad.

YAE: [SPEECHLESS]

SCARAMOUCHE: This is fucking stupid. Why did l even have to explain myself? I have nothing to prove to anybody. [GETS UP]

YAE: Scaramouche, wait—

SCARAMOUCHE: [WALKS OFF SCREEN]

stuck with you!

materlist — prev | next

(typos) *slide 6: feelings wheel / *slide 8: i just had this realization

first update of the year wow!

sorry guys i’m scared to do the keep reading button so…😛

after typing oh. oh. i was like ooh bitch i ate

also ignore how scara lowk littered uhm he picked up his cig after dw! environmentally friendly king!

pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — four updates during break ur welcome! my break ends in two weeksish so idk if ill be able post another one before then so let me rest xx

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

#scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche smau #genshin smau #scaramouche genshin x reader #genshin x reader #stuck with you smau

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slvttfortoru · 17 days ago

Text

Kiyoomi walks in the dim light apartment, first thought is where you could be. So shaking off his gym bag placing it on the bench and taking off his shoes placing them in their cubby slot, putting on his house shoes trailing off into the house.

He enters the clean kitchen a small candle lit on the kitchen island, that's when he knew you were home. You wouldn't mindlessly leave a candle lit if you were out. Sighing to himself he walked into the living room. the tv having a big ..are you still watching.. displaying on the tv.

He stalks over more into the living room his muscles relaxing see you curled up in a big MSBY merch blanket. smiling to himself softly as he stand behind the couch leaning down his hands placed on top of the couch keeping him steady. Placing a soft kiss on top of your head, making you stir awake at the feeling.

"Kiyo..?" you mumble sleepily, your eyes fluttering open slowly. Finally half awake your eyes adjusting the first thing you see is your husband staring down at you with the softest smile on his face. You sit up on the couch the blanket falling of your shoulders and down on to your lap.

"Hi my love," he cooed, his voice soft and comforting. Turning your head to look at him fully.

"How was practice?" you yawn, stretching your arms up. He smiles down at you, walking around the couch sitting down next to you his strong arm coming out his hand pulling you to lay your head on his thigh. Gently stroking your hair your face towards him. Your eyes looking up into his smiling up at him relaxing into his warm touch.

"practice was fine," whispering to your, you nod slightly.

"How was your day?" he asked, his large rough hadn't stopping at the top of your head and you adjust the blanket. Once adjusted he started stroking your head again from time to time he'd scratch your scalp.

"my day was good! I went to that flower shop downtown, then I came back and got ready for the gym...I worked out for a bit. Then I kinda realized I wanted to try out pilates. So I went to a class and oh my goddd..those pilate bitches don't play!..." whining out the last bit of your sentence.

Kiyoomi smiles listening to you ramble about your day, occasionally saying things like "oh yeah?".. "really?" .. "ah..." making you get even more involved with your day as he ask you tiny questions in answering.

He loved when you did this, him asking those tiny little questions or statements making you ramble even more about it. He's always interested how your day went, no matter what even if you did nothing that day. He'd still come home after practice and drag you into his lap playing with your hair asking you the same question. The pillow talk going on for hours, before someone mentions the thought of food. And boom you are both shuffling to the kitchen prepping dinner.

Soft kisses and giggles as you still ramble about your day and other topics you were interested in. Lifting yourself up on the cold kitchen counter by the stove watching Kiyo season the chicken. You stop talking, making kiyoomi look up at you with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm listening, go on," he says, you blush your eyes widening for a moment. he turns his head back down to the chicken, You smile before picking up where you left off on your story.

Sakusa Kiyoomi would always listen to you, no matter what it's about he's always listening <3

-a/n sorry for any spelling errors :3

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #haikyuu sakusa #msby sakusa #haikyuu #haikyuu time skip #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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eubybubble · 1 year ago

Text

slytherin boys after an argument

ft. Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo

Theodore Nott

Realization hit him hard after a prolonged silence. The air felt thick, and he felt nauseous as he shifted his gaze from a small crack on the wall under his fist to your face. He just swallowed and left the room without a word.

He was terrified of himself, didn't he promise to never raise a hand on loved ones? Technically, he hadn’t, but it was too close. Thoughts flooded his mind as he rushed up the stairs in a desperate attempt to breathe fresh air. It wasn't surprising that he instinctively headed to the Astronomy Tower – your favorite place. Reaching the top, he stood there and retrieved the cigarette pack with trembling fingers. After hesitating, he lit one. Everything seemed to remind him of you. It was never that serious, you just wanted to help him.

Now, he felt like a total fool. Leaning against a wall and sliding down, he pondered over the the relationships. You were too sweet, he couldn't let you suffer near someone like him. With that, he set his mind on ignoring you and breaking up with you because "that'd be better for you." It seemed like you would only agree, he didn't consider any other possible answer.

In the next few days, he deliberately skipped meals and tried to ignore your questioning gaze in halls. However, you heard a slight cough from behind after the lunch.

"May we discuss something?"

"Well, if it isn't Theodore Nott! What—" he didn't let you finish.

"Let's break up." you froze, staring at him in disbelief.

"Nott, are you insane? Didn't you think to ask me?"

"I'm doing it right now."

"Really? It felt more like you just stated a fact and I can only accept it. It was really low of you to avoid me." Your eyes became shiny as tears started to accumulate involuntarily. Theodore noticed it, and despite the cold agenda he planned, he rushed towards you, wiping the tears.

"You wouldn't want to be with me," he mumbled.

"What? We could've talked! We've always talked about how important communication is, but how come we don't practice it? I know you, and I know myself; I wouldn't give up on our relationship that easily. And more than anything, I know that I want to be with you. Why would you do that to me?" you sobbed, clutching onto him as if you were afraid that if he left now, you would never see him again.

"Shush, principessa, I'm so sorry-" he didn't expect such a reaction from you. As you hid your crying face in his chest, his heartbeat only became faster. What an idiot he was for even thinking of such a thing. "I'm so sorry. For everything I've done and said. I'll work to be better for you," he rambled quietly. "Do you trust me? Are you ready to give me another try?" His voice cracked slightly as he asked the last question. You just nodded, and he chuckled at the sight. "Tesoro... I'm so sorry. I promise you it won't happen again." He gave you a forehead kiss, and he really meant it. Even though he didn't say anything about it, he decided to quit smoking. Yes, it won't be easy or a short process, but at least he found a far better addiction - you.

Tom Riddle

From the moment you saw Tom, you thought it could have worked out. At least, you hoped so. It all felt dumb. All those times when your friends told you to break up or said that he didn’t care about you - you refused to believe them. And now, it got you here when the most precious person told you were some troublesome trivia. In the past, you and Tom would at least talk during lunch or sit next to each other in Potions where he patiently helped you, but now, he skipped most lessons, and if he attended one, he’d sit alone. Everyone noticed it, and you became the target of their whispers and snickers. Some even went as far as mocking you in the halls.

“Well, if it isn’t the one Tom Riddle dumped. What, did he finally realize that you’re pathetic?” you tightened your hold on your books and tried to leave hurriedly until the blonde boy from the group shoved you into the wall. “Aren’t we talking to you? Why are you leaving so suddenly?”

It was a pretty loud encounter, so Tom, who was walking nearby, heard it and stopped in his tracks. To tell the truth, he didn’t even want to break up. He invented this silly excuse to protect you because he was afraid of his own actions. He hoped you’d be stubborn and come once again, but you didn’t. That’s when he knew he messed up, but his pride held him back from going to you. And now, someone was bullying his treasure.

But they underestimated your power. You didn’t want it to escalate into violence, but they started it first. With a swift movement of the wand, you threw them off with a big blast. Not even bothering to look behind, you paced up and bumped into someone.

“Oh.” As he put his hands on your shoulders to steady you, he eyed the unconscious group behind. “Using a spell of such power at this hour?” he mumbled nervously.

“Care to explain why you care? Get off, Riddle.” You tried to shove him away, but his grip was strong.

“What’s going on with you? I didn’t even do anything to make you that mad.” You nearly choked at these words.

“Tom.” He hesitated. “Do you think I’m that dumb to fall for your words? Move out of the way.” But he just stood there without a change.

"Don’t leave. I was just... I was afraid I’d hurt you," he whispered as he clutched onto you. "I was afraid of my own plans, of my own thoughts. But please, promise me never to leave, even if I change. I won’t hurt you, just stay by my side. I never expected to fall in love..I had everything planned ahead in a neat way, but you came in like a surprise. Yet, here we are, and it's you. There's no turning back now" You never saw Tom being so vulnerable, and you could do only nod. You cupped his face.

"Hey, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll be here," you softly reassured him, not noticing how easily he drew you right back.

Mattheo Riddle

You had hard time absorbing everything Mattheo said. It was already dark outside, but you didn’t care to turn on the light or illuminate the wand with “Lumos”. You sat on the bed and went through the box with a glossy eyes. You couldn’t believe that he saved every gift, every letter, note - even those that you gave him before dating. Quiet sobs escaped your chest upon finding the promise ring at the very top. Why does it feel so awful when you believed you made the right choice?

As if on cue, your roommate entered the dorm room. "Hey, look what everyone’s talking about in school- oh, are you okay?" She turned on the lights and noticed your teary face. Quickly wiping everything away, you pretended to be busy, gathering everything back into the box. "Yeah, my eyes are sore from reading in the dark," a lame excuse, "what were you gonna tell?"

She knew you disliked having your privacy intruded upon. "So, three students were caught for an outrageous duel and a series of mobbings in Hogsmeade! Surprisingly, it was two Gryffindor students and one Hufflepuff. That fits into the ‘don't judge a book by its cover' narrative. I wonder when the stereotypes about the houses will end. Remember when everyone didn't doubt that it was Slytherin?" she sighed.

As if it weren't enough of a heartbreak, you discovered that everything you had ever suspected Mattheo of was all filthy lies and gossip. Suddenly, you felt dizzy.

You didn’t care about decency or dignity as you rushed to Mattheo’s dorm. He, too, was struggling. Despite everything, he regretted speaking harshly and leaving the memory box. What if you never returned and tossed it away? His heart clenched at the thought.

Feeling too irritated and unwilling to join others in the common room for a card game, he was all alone for now. In futile attempts to fall asleep, he heard a light knock on the door.

"Who’s that?" he groaned, too lazy to open the door.

"Hey, can we talk?" His muscles tensed upon hearing that familiar voice. Rushing to the door, he unlocked it immediately. "Oh, hi," you blushed and stopped mid-sentence, staring at his torso. He glanced down, realizing he forgot to put his shirt on.

"Shit. Sorry, one second," he shut the door in embarrassment and put on a random sweater. "What do you want?" he still held a grudge against you.

"I wanna... apologize. You have every right to shut the door, but I wanted to tell you that our relationship isn’t a joke to me. I love everything about you. I was just so stupid to believe all the gossips floating around Hogwarts, but that doesn’t matter. I came here to tell you how insane you make me feel. I mean, these days when I tried to collect my thoughts and was avoiding you, I was thinking of you non-stop. Mattheo, I’d fight the world to be by your side." As you rambled on and on, his gaze softened, and he pulled you by the waist.

"That’s my girl. I felt terrible when you acted the way you acted, but I hope it won’t be the same in the future?... I also apologize for saying unnecessary things."

"That’s okay, you had every right to be mad. What about I’ll order the food and we’ll watch a movie?"

“Gladly” he was grinning now. It wasn't necessary to tell him that you were also ordering a new broomstick, the perfect one for the perfect boy to make it up. It was the least you could do now. As you scrolled through the list of new films, Mattheo coughed.

"So, uh, can I get my box back, please? You didn’t go through it, right?" a light blush covered his face.

“Actually, I did, Matty. I didn’t know you are so sweet” he groaned at this comment “but I’ll return it to you. Sure.”

Lorenzo Berkshire

The moment Lorenzo received his numerology exam back, he couldn't believe the mark he saw. 70, satisfactory. Many would pray for such a grade, but he had studied and sacrificed too much for this.

As he walked to breakfast, he scanned the Great Hall but couldn't spot you. The previous day's argument flared up in his memory, and he wrinkled his nose as he sat down to eat. As predicted, a white owl sat on his shoulder, delivering a letter with Berkshire's family logo.

He run his eyes over the text. “disgrace..wasting time..bad influence” and blah blah blah. Nothing’s new, except the threat that ordered him not to come home until he got back on the track academically. He's been following his parents' wishes for too long; he was too afraid to ruin the perfect son image that he completely lost hold of his priorities.

Oh, how he wished to be in your embrace now, to listen to your soothing voice and nuzzle up to you in the dark. But he ruined it single-handedly.

He stood up and went to lessons, scratching an apology note for you in the meantime. At DADA, the only class you two took together, he tried to sit next to you and apologize, but that place was taken by a Hufflepuff girl, to which he could only frown. Throughout the lesson, you felt his gaze on you, but never once did you turn your head back at him. If he needed a break that much, he could get one. After all, you got tired of constantly begging him to relax and spend time with you and felt like a total fool.

After the lessons ended, you were the first one to leave the classroom, but he's not an idiot either. You felt someone gently taking hold of your wrists and pushing you into the empty classroom. The door closed behind.

"Can we talk and communicate like grown-ups?" Lorenzo inquired.

"You said everything you wanted last time. I have to go, Hermione's waiting for me in the library," you blatantly lied.

"Oh, really? Because when I last talked to Hermione, she told me she would be with Ron," he calmly stated, stepping closer. "I don't really remember things I've said, but-" You didn't let him finish.

“Enzo, you needed break and I’m giving it to you” his jaws tightened in frustration at your unwavering stance. “You told me I was a burden and you know what? I think you were right because lately, that’s what I felt like in relationships with you. It’s like I’m begging you to spend time with me. Maybe it's best to return to being friends” you mumbled. But he just shook his head, moving nearer once more until he stood right in front of you.

"I'm sorry I made you feel this way. It's not an excuse for my behavior, but I've been stressing about..something," he sighed. "You don't deserve to be treated like that, but trust me, I'll be better." He gently reached out for your arm. "I need just another chance. The only one. I've already written back to my parents, and I hope they will get off my back. I've also told them about us," his voice got quieter. "I hope you won't mind." Your breath hitched. He had always been postponing this, even if you wished for it. There was a minute of silence and apprehension before he wrapped you in a hug. "I hope you can forgive me, sweetheart. How about we go to the cafe you like this weekend?" he mumbled, peppering your face with kisses.

a/n: I apologize if it's not the way you imagined, but hey, I tried my best. Also, I think they were super careful and sweet afterwards!

taglist: @lilanxietysstuff @nopedefe @marina468

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thebestsetter · 3 months ago

Text

Thinking about (lovesick) Hiori Yo keeping a diary.

His parents have always been emotionally unavaible. For them, Hiori was nothing more nothing less than an experiment, the one destined to be what they've always wanted to be and yet never managed to acomplish: someone who wears the title of being "the best in the world".

He also didn't have much (if any) friends. All his time was dedicated to football practice, so the only people he talked to (aside from his parents) were his teammates. And they were nice, sure, but they were not his friends. They were more like acquaintances. The only one he could really call a friend was one of his teammates, Karasu Tabito, and even so he still didn't feel comfortable enough talking to him about the complex thoughts he had.

Because of that, he's never had anyone to talk with. No one to confide about his feelings and emotions. No one to talk about how he wanted to leave his home house (that place didn't feel like a home). How his parents fucked up his sanity. How he didn't really like football that much.

He couldn't keep all these things inside his head anymore. He needed to pour these feelings out. That's why he decided to start a diary.

Grabbing an old notebook and one of those common blue pens, he started writing. The diary was his most treasured possession. It stayed locked inside his bedside table, being away from all of the prying eyes.

Writing felt good. He wrote about his strained relationship with his parents. About soccer practices. About gaming tips. About pretty much everything.

His thoughts about many different themes were written there. That's why his journal didn't really have a specific theme.

Well, at least in the beggining it didn't have.

Because ever since a month or so, all the pages on his diary began to revolve around a girl. You.

He met you during a rather boring math class. The teacher was rambling on and on about algebrics or whatever, and time seemed to freeze because of how utterly shitty the endless class seemed.

"His explanation sucks, doesn't it?"

He heard a female voice coming from beside him. When he turned to the direction of the sound, he saw the prettiest girl he had ever met.

Her hair framed her face perfectly, it's color matching her eyes in the most beautiful way Yo had ever seen. The smile she had on her face seemed to shine, and Hiori found himself smiling back, too.

"Yeah" he sighed, then looked back at the teacher

"I just wish the old hag would shut up"

"I wish he would just shut up"

They spoke at the same time.

Looking at eachother, they both began to laugh. Hard. Clutching your stomach and tearing up kind of laugh. Snorting like a pig laugh. Wheezing. Hitting the table with your fist to try and stop with the loud laughing, but being phisically incapable of stopping.

"Hiori Yo and (Name) (Lastname). Do you want to share with the class what made you laugh so hard? I'm sure they want to laugh to."

"N-No, mister. We're sorry. We-We'll stop" you answered, still trying to stiffle your laugh

"Do not interrupt my class again, or else I'll send you both to the principal's office"

"Okay sir." Hiori answered, not believing a word the teacher said but still a little scared to have his parents find out he went to the principal's office

"Hiori Yo, huh?" You said "It suits you"

"Thank you, miss (Name) (Lastname)." Hiori smirked "Your name is very pretty. It also suits you"

"Oh, so you think I'm pretty?" You smirked, a mischevious and playful glint on your eyes.

"N-no!" Hiori blushed hard, averting your gaze. His accent got stronger like it always did when he became nervous, and he was quick to correct himself "I-I mean, yes! You're very pretty! B-but I didn't mean to say t-that. Not that you're not pretty! Is just that..."

He was interrupted by the sound of your laugh mixed with the bell signalizing the end of the school day. It's obnoxious sound was such a contrast from your sweet, honey-like melodic laugh.

"Don't worry, I was just teasing you!" You smiled at him, grabbing your backpack and getting up "Well, see you on the next advanced math period, mister Hiori Yo"

You then quickly left, leaving behind a red and speechless Hiori.

He has been obsessed in love with you ever since. He wanted to be with you all of the time, no exceptions. You were just so nice! It seemed like his problems disappeared when you were near. Life seemed brighter, and even his parents noticed the change in his behavior. He was more carefree, happier, lighter.

And never once did he forget to write in his diary. In fact, he wrote about you so much he decided to rip the pages about his parents and other things and make the journal solely based on you.

He wrote about the dates he wanted to go to with you. Wrote about how he wanted to hold hands with you, kiss you till you're both breathless, stargaze with you, game with you. Do basically everything with you.

He detailed how he wanted to confess to you: you would both be in a park, having a picnic, when he would suddenly pull a bouquet from his backpack and put his feelings on the table, making it clear he viewed you as more than a friend. And then you'd laugh and say you like him too, making fun of his strong accent and how much effect you had over him.

Not that he'd mind. As long as your attention was on him, you could humilliate him all you want. He was pathetic.

He even wrote about your wedding, the petunias he wanted to give you and how Hiori (Name) had such a nice ring to it.

He wrote everything in his diary. And that was his fatal flaw.

Because he also wrote about how he wanted to spend his practice time with you. How he wanted to give up on soccer and move in with you to a house on the countryside, just you and him. How he sometimes skipped practices just to go out with you.

"Mom? Dad?"

He would never have thought that, one day, he would forget to lock the diary up. And who would've guessed it would fall in the hands of his parents, who have no idea of privacy.

"Yo, we need to talk about this"

When Hiori saw the notebook in his dad's hand, he swallowed dry. He felt like crying just by imagining what they wanted to discuss about.

Maybe they didn't read it. Yeah, maybe they still respected their son, at least a little bit.

"W-what? How did you..."

"It was on your bed." His mom answered, a stern expression on her face "me and your father came to an agreement after reading it, and..."

"You read it?!" Hiori was furious and sad at the same time. Not surprised, no. He knew they would've done this. "You can't do this! My personal thoughts are in there! It's my diary! You're invading my privacy!"

"Bullshit. Teenagers do not have nor need privacy" his father cut him off "Whatever. What matters is that we read about that (Name) girl. And we've decided..."

No. He can say anything but what he thinks they're bout to say. He can't handle that.

"We don't want you around that girl anymore. She's getting in the way of your football practices. That's why...

We're moving you to a different school."

No...

No.

NO!

"No she's not!" Hiori screamed, pleaded. He wished that for once his parents would listen to him, think about his feelings at least one time. "I love her! I swear I'll do double the practice! Just, please. Please don't do this" his voice was wavering. He was weak. "Please don't keep her away from me. Please."

"We do this cause we know what's best for you. We're your parents. We know you better than yourself." His mom tried to reason.

"No you don't!" Hiori screamed "She's the best thing that has ever happened to me! You can't do this to me! You can't decide these things in my behalf!"

"We're your parents. We can and we did. End of discussion." His dad gritted out, not an ounce of empathy in his face. "And we also decided you're not keeping a diary anymore. We don't want you hiding things from us."

With a swift move, he threw the notebook inside the fireplace.

"NO!" Hiori screamed, running to collect the ashes and try to save the diary, but it was already too late.

In his knees in front of the fire, Hiori cried. The flames were dancing around as if mocking his sadness, laughing at his disgrace.

He stayed there for so long he lost track of time. His parents were no longer in the room, deciding to finally give their son space. But he didn't want space.

He wanted you.

He stayed motionless until the last flame was unstinguished. And when it finally was, so was his hope for a better future. A future without his parents playing with the strings of his life all the time, treating him like a puppet. A future with no pain.

A future with you.

And so, a single page that survived flew and fell in front of him.

He picked it up.

Dear diary,

I think I can make up with my parents. I didn't told her about the whole situation since I don't want to burden her, but from what she heard, (Name) said we just need to talk. And maybe she's right. Maybe they'll like her just as much as I do, and we can be a big happy family. She makes me feel like everything is possible. I'm sure I love her, and I want to spend all my time by her side...

He couldn't read it anymore.

With a scream, Hiori tore the page apart.

~A/N: Sorry anon, idk how to write angst ☹️

Masterlist

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #yandere blue lock #hiori yo.#hiori x reader #bllk hiori #hiori yo #blue lock hiori #hiori yo x reader #bllk angst #blue lock angst #reader angst #bllk manga #bllk x reader #bllk x you

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puckinghischier · 29 days ago

Note

I can just imagine doing a “soft launch” with Nico and him not understanding the concept of it and posting just a picture that’s very much you and the teams gc blowing up giving him shit

when you opened the burst of notifications suddenly flooding your phone, you’re confused. sure, you had just posted a soft launch of nico on your account, but you didn’t expect this kind of reaction to it, most of your close friends and family already knowing about him.

when you open the instagram app, though, you see none other than a post from your oh so sweet boyfriend, your smiling face next to his looking right back at you. his comments are full of fans talking back and forth about who you are and where you came from. you noticed the sudden influx of followers to your account, quickly switching your profile to private before any more make their way through.

the two of you had discussed doing a soft launch last night, agreeing that now is the time to do it, seeing as you’re getting pretty serious. you thought nico understood the concept, but bless his heart, he didn’t.

he had posted one of the most recent pictures the two of you had taken together. you were standing nestled close to him in front of the large tree at rockefeller center just across the bridge, big, loving smiles on both of your faces. the icing on the cake, though? he tagged you in the picture.

you noticed a few of his teammates in the comments, cheering the new relationship on and congratulating him for making it social media official.

ones such as timo, jack, and jesper, however, were poking fun at him. the three of them were the first of nico’s teammates you ever met, so you feel a bit closer to them than some of the others. you had actually crashed their lunch yesterday, joining the four hockey players for a quick cafe meal in-between practices.

they were included in your conversation, asking them their opinion and if it was too soon. when they all gave you their approval you continued the conversation with nico later that night, setting the plan into motion.

jack’s comment read “wow cap, this launch was about as soft as a rock,” while timo’s was along the lines of “soft on the ice, but not on the launches.”

jesper’s was a bit more to the point, simply stating “you’re not supposed to tag her, dumbass.”

before you could read any further comments, your screen was taken over by an incoming call from none other than your new instagram official boyfriend.

“sweetheart, i fucked up. i’m so sorry. i should have asked what you meant last night, but i thought we were just posting about each other. i had no clue it was supposed to be secretive and clever. you should have just told me what to post, now-“

“nico, neeks, calm down. take a breath, it’s fine,” you laugh at his rambles, interrupting his spiral that started the second you answered the phone, not even getting to say hello.

“you’re…not mad?” he stops mid-sentence, confused at your lack of fury at his mistake.

“no, i’m not mad. even if it did cause my phone to nearly crash because of how many notifications were coming through, it was cute,” you smile through your sentence, even though he can’t see you.

“oh…well….i guess i didn’t need to leave practice early then, huh?” he tells you, right as you hear the door open to your apartment, nico standing there with the key you gave him in hand.

you hang up your phone, standing from your couch and walking over towards him.

“why in the world would you leave practice early for something as silly as this?” you stand with your hands on your hips, looking at him disapprovingly.

he doesn’t meet your eye, seeming bashful all of a sudden. “well…if you were going to yell at me i would rather have had you do it in person, that way i could kiss you and tell you i loved you in person instead of over the phone,” he tells you honestly, looking like a little boy getting scolded by his parents.

rolling your eyes at him, you walk over and run your hands through his hair, letting your hands stop at the nape of his neck, arms resting on his shoulders as he looks down at you.

“well i’m not mad, but you can still kiss me and tell me you love me, since the entire state of new jersey—well, the united states and most of switzerland, probably—knows now,” you poke fun at him, scratching the bottom of his scalp while his arms come to circle around your waist.

smirking down at you, he meets your lips in a sweet kiss, barely able to savor it before his phone starts buzzing like crazy in his pocket, distracting both of you.

“now listen, i know i don’t have that many followers to freak out about my new hockey star boyfriend, so who’s blowing your phone up?” you pull back from the kiss, looking down at where his phone rests in the pocket of his sweats.

he pulls the device out, bringing it over so both of you can look at it. you see the messages continue to come through, the same name being seen on all of them: “the handsome devils”.

“that’s your groupchat name? the handsome devils? how original” you laugh at the team’s lack of creativity.

“it was jack’s idea,” nico shrugs, the explanation making perfect sense.

you can hardly read the messages because they’re coming in so fast, but you catch a few.

“nico, do we need to host an instagram class in lieu of practice one day?” dougie offers his admin skills to his captain.

“cap, even i know that soft launch means partial, not a full face shot,” followed by “i didn’t mean that the way that sounded, jack, don’t laugh,” from curtis, and then a “HAHAHA” from jack.

“does this mean i have to start calling her mom?” from luke was the last one you saw before looking up at nico, his furrowed brow showing his annoyance with his teammates.

you reach up to smooth the wrinkle between his full brows, leading him to look up at you instead of his phone.

“nico, they’re just poking fun. they all mean well,” you assure him, taking the still buzzing phone from his hands.

he pouts at you anyways, huffing out a sigh. “i just…felt really bad about all of this and they were all laughing at me when i was rushing out of the locker room, worried you were about to break up with me.”

you can’t help but let out your own laugh, finding it comical he actually thinks you would break up with him. his pout deepens at your laugh, crossing his arms and tucking into himself, yet again looking like a child.

“nico, i’m sorry, i’m not laughing at you, it’s just funny you think i’d break up with you over being too excited to tell people we’re dating and posting one of my favorite pictures of us on your very public instagram,” you assure him, untucking his arms from themselves and placing them back around your waist.

he lets himself relax a bit, getting comfortable in his hold on you again. “it is a really good picture of us, isn’t it?” he asks, looking down at you.

you nod your head yes, humming out a “mhmmm” before standing on your tip toes and pressing a kiss to his nose.

“now, why don’t we go make ourselves comfortable on the couch, order food, and think of snarky comebacks to send to your teammates for making fun of you?” you suggest, causing his face to light up.

“i knew i loved you for a reason,” he says enthusiastically, taking your arm and dragging you over towards the couch.

#i thought this was very silly and a fun prompt #i hope you enjoy hehe #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #hockey #nhl #new jersey devils

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hyunnie04 · 1 year ago

Text

somethin' stupid

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you."

yang jeongin x reader, fluff | m.list

wc: 1.2k | happy birthday innie ♡

“i'm not really interested… i'm sorry.”

you watch jeongin as he rejects yet another girl. you feel sorry for her as she stands awkwardly in the middle of the quaint cafe, fiddling anxiously with the ends of her shirt.

thankfully, the establishment was relatively empty, save for a few people discretely listening in. she goes on to nod and ramble on further until she had noticed your presence.

"-oh, i didn't realize you have a partner. sorry." her eyes dart over towards you, blush wildly painting her cheeks. she was already gone by the time you could correct her, scuttling away and leaving a trail of gossip in her wake. jeongin watches her leave, pursing his lips.

"you could've let her down easily. the poor girl was shaking..." you voiced out, stirring your iced americano and watching the ice melt bit by bit.

jeongin sighs and takes his seat across from you, taking a sip out of his own cup. he brushes your comment off and starts to talk about a different topic altogether, returning to his smiley demeanor.

you knew how jeongin was. he didn't hesitate to say no whenever someone would just come up to him, asking for his number. it happens more often than not, professions of love seemingly happening out of no where.

you were also used to it, getting stopped so frequently whenever you went out with him. dozens of people that had tried to ask him out only ended in disappointment.

he was seemingly disinterested in things like love. the topic had always eluded him, if you didn't know him any better you could have said he was uncomfortable with the idea. but you didn't pry, he must have a pretty good reason. it was understandable too, his line of work didn't exactly allow it anyways.

despite this, you have admired him in silence ever since the beginning. the feelings that had festered inside of you were kept bottled up until they threatened to spill over. and they almost did, but friendship mattered more and shot down the idea before it could ruin everything.

admittedly, there are days where you just want to explode, to confess and just get it over with. you were a hundred percent positive it would end just the same for you. the preconceived notion of him not liking you in that way, you don't think you could handle it. thinking about being rejected so coldly sends shivers down your spine.

the iced americano that sits in your hands start to sting after a while, but you pay no mind to it. the firm grip you had on it reminds you, mulling over the interaction you had earlier as he rambles about another topic. little things like paying for your coffee and bringing you other small items even if it was his birthday had in short, confused you.

maybe you're misinterpreting and just imagining things. but the way jeongin is adamant that he pays for your order every single time, or the way his hand brushes against yours more often than not and how the warmth of them lingered, says otherwise.

you also notice how he didn't correct the girl's assumption about you two.

the wind dishevels his hair upon stepping out of the cafe, rays of sunlight peaking through the leaves start to dim in the afternoon. the two of you walk for a while, kicking pebbles and rocks in comfortable silence. your head is still occupied with thoughts of him.

another thought comes into your mind amidst the internal chaos, "i almost forgot! i still need to buy you a cake." it had completely slipped from your mind, forgetting why you agreed to go out in the first place.

"it's okay, really." he laughs as you tug him along the sidewalk. you need to do something else to distract your mind and fast. jeongin jogs beside you, keeping up with your pace. it seemed like you weren't taking no for an answer and stopped right in front of a pastry shop.

"is this what you were talking about?" he hums with a grin, leaning down to browse the lines and lines of delicious looking cakes displayed in the glass casing. you made no move to go in just yet, letting him choose silently. his hair, still disheveled and tousled from the wind yet ethereal all the same.

"what if i said i liked you?"

the abrupt stupid question escapes your mouth before you could catch it. his face slowly contorts into an expression, one you could not decipher right away upon hearing it. his back straightens up as keen eyes start to focus on you.

"j-just a hypothetical! i was just really curious because of earlier and it's not serious or-" you wave your hands in front as if to physically wave it off.

"-forget i said anything." you turn your head away, voice becoming tiny and unintelligible. you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head. jeongin says nothing as the tip of your ears burn a bright crimson.

you've done it now, y/n.

"hey," he nudges your side with that eye-crinkling smile you've come accustomed to.

"did you ever wonder why i keep rejecting them?" jeongin now had his hands in his pockets, a small pout forming on his lips as he pops his own query to you, staring back at the glass casings.

you said nothing, unable to respond with a reply or conclusion that would most likely be accurate, you've already embarrassed yourself in front of him today.

jeongin flicks your forehead and scoffs, “that's because i like you, idiot.”

"it was always you." his eyes were downcast, looking everywhere but yours.

you have gone unresponsive at this point. incredulous eyes stared back at him as you feel your throat dry up. it was because of you? were you dreaming? you must be.

"w-what? really?" you say quite densely whilst rubbing the sore spot on your forehead. he laughs, finally turning to you. "yes, i'm serious."

the wind blows harder this time, removing the locks that obscured his beautifully dimpled face. jeongin's eyes are still trained on you with such longing that you don't recall ever seeing on him, ultimately reminding you that this was indeed real.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for you to say those words." you breathe out in relief, one that you weren't even aware of holding.

the proximity between you two sends electrifying shocks, the mere presence of each other is enough to fluster. "i like you too." the words finally make it out of your throat.

you two burst in abrupt laughter, the tip-toeing around the situation suddenly feeling silly. a mixture look of understanding, relief, and love is shared between you two, smiling like love sick fools.

jeongin starts to drag you away by your coat, mimicking how you did to him earlier. "ah! wait, but your cake..." you see the establishment grow smaller and smaller as he drags you away.

"we don't need to worry about that now."

"can i at least buy you a present?" you reply, picking up your feet and walking alongside him. he has a wide grin on his face as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "got my present right here."

you mousily stop in your tracks as a deeper shade of crimson blooms across your face. the two of you walk side by side upon your recovery, pinky fingers now intertwined shyly around each other.

#jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #i.n x reader #i.n skz #i.n stray kids #yang jeongin fluff #skz fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz imagines

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lovebugism · 11 months ago

Note

can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself

Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”

A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.

Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story.

Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”

Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”

“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”

Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.

Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”

“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”

You nod once. “Right.”

The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”

“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter.

Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.

His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”

“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You said she was talking a lot.”

“I said that I liked it!”

Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”

The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”

“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”

He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet.

You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.

“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.

“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.

The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.

“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”

You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”

You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”

Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”

“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”

“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”

“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next.

It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”

Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?”

“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

You melt.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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stevesherdaddynowlover · 7 months ago

Text

pet names and looped pinkies pt.2 [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii me again :) literally one person asked for this so i ran to do it and ended up going a little crazy with it but oh well! hope you enjoy!! feel free to send suggestions or ideas or just chat :) also this is not edited i was too tired goodnight and god bless steve harrington

masterlist

summary: a part 2 to this in which you and steve are best friends but really you want more and are too scared to say it. (steve harrington x fem!reader)

warnings: okayyyy very anxious reader, bottling up our emotions, cursing, kissing, fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, some spit, an almost blowjob, i think thats it??? 18+ MDNI!!!!!

wc: 9.6k

So what if you watched your best friend that you’re madly in love with get off in front of you! So what if you helped him! It was fine. Perfectly fine, right?

Wrong.

Your head was a mess, everything all jumbled up and you didn’t know how to sort through any of this. It had been three days since it happened and you’d been as normal as possible with Steve, answering his phone calls and eating with him on his lunch break. Everything was fine as far as he was concerned. It wasn’t until you climbed into your bed at night that your head started to spin, and not in a good way, your palms sweating and your chest feeling heavy.

Confused. You were so beyond confused and frustrated with yourself over this whole situation. Confused because it had been one of the best experiences of your life and now your brain was picking it apart piece by piece and making your stomach turn and your head pound. Steve had said all the right things, all the things you’d wanted to hear for years, but you also had your hand on his cock so how much of that did he actually mean! Did he even remember it, want to remember it? What if he never wanted to do it again or even worse wanted to pretend like it didn’t happen?

And frustrated. So fucking frustrated with yourself because these cruel, mean thoughts were based off nothing besides your own worries! They had no merit, but that did little to soothe the ache in your chest when you thought about your friendship with Steve.

The rational part of your brain, what was left of it at least, knew that if you just talked to Steve that this could all be cleared up. He would listen to you ramble and maybe he had a good enough handle on his emotions that he could give you some clarity. You knew this. You knew Steve would never be cruel or malicious with you, especially about something like this. And a part of you even knew that despite how well you thought you had hid it, Steve probably knew just how much this, how much he really meant to you.

But the much bigger part of your brain, the irrational part, held so much worry and fear about this potential conversation with Steve that you’d kept your mouth shut for the last 3 days. What if he regretted it? What if he didn’t mean anything he said and you were just there at the right time? What if this makes things weird and you lose your best friend? What if he just feels sorry for you? Does he know how you feel and decided to give you some attention out of…pity?

Your palms had little crescent shapes in them from where you had dug your fingernails, trying to ground yourself and failing miserably. Maybe this wasn’t a big deal. Maybe you were being dramatic and blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe Steve felt the same. But did you want to risk that? Could you? Because all you really knew at the end of the day was that you loved him. You loved him more than you ever thought possible, so much your heart felt like it could burst when he smiles at you or laughs a little too hard at something that’s not even funny.

So you kept your mouth shut and tried to be as normal as possible. You kept that fake smile on your face and prayed that nobody noticed, or kept it to themselves if they did. You let Steve tug on your hair and loop his pinky with yours as if it didn’t break your heart a little more each time he did it.

Any piece of him would be enough for you, it was better than not having any of him at all.

***************************

Steve could tell that something was up. He’d expected you to avoid him after that night and was pleasantly surprised when you answered his call on the second ring the next morning, smiling to himself and trying not to bounce on his heels like an overexcited puppy.

But then he’d seen you in person. You’d come to Family Video on your day off to eat lunch with him on his break, giving him a quick once over when you first walked in but besides that…nothing. Maybe you were feeling a little shy, he could understand that. He saw the small smile you gave him when he pulled out two pb&j’s, one for him and one for you and it made his heart soar. He liked doing things for you, loved making you happy.

He thinks he’d give you the moon if he could.

Everything seemed normal so far, you were a little more quiet than usual but considering the circumstances he wasn’t too surprised by that. It’s when you’re sitting down with him in the break room that he notices. You’re talking now, laughing at his stupid jokes and teasing him like always, but it’s different.

You’re here but you’re not. You’re not looking at him, you’re looking around him. You’re giving him smiles and giggles but they’re not yours. This is even worse than what he imagined because you’re trying to act normal. He can practically see your head spinning, thoughts going crazy behind your eyes and it kills him. It hurts because you’re keeping this from him. You’re hiding from him.

If he’s being honest with you and himself, he’s been freaking out about this so he knows you’ve been too. But he thought you were good enough friends that it wouldn't have been weird to talk about it. He thought he made you feel safe and comfortable enough to confide in him.

But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he needed to try harder to make sure you knew that he was there for you. Always. That he’d do anything to make you feel safe. That you could come to him with anything and he’d listen without judgment. That he loved you.

“Do you wanna talk about it, honey?” He bit the bullet, hoping this didn’t blow up his face and praying to god you didn’t want to forget it had ever happened, he knew he sure as hell wouldn’t.

“Oh..no-we don’t have to, I mean we can if you want but I’m fine. I mean, it’s fine, right? We’re good.” He knew he’d lost you, your eyes dropping to the floor to stare as your foot tapped nervously on the tile.

“Later, then. We can talk about it when you’re ready, yeah?” The fucking Family Video break room wasn’t the place to have this conversation anyways but he couldn’t stand to see you pretending around him, acting like you were okay when you weren’t.

He hated to see you pretending but he hated even more that he couldn't lean across this tiny table and kiss you. God he wanted to taste you again, to watch how your pretty pink lips got all swollen and slick and to feel how your hands tugged mercilessly on his curls while you dragged him closer to you.

But he could be patient. He’d wait for you forever if that's what it took.

********************************

A party was the last place you wanted to be tonight, but when Steve had called you and practically begged for you to come, you found yourself agreeing before you knew what you were doing. As if you’d ever be able to say no to him. You did manage to tell him you’d meet him there, needing to give yourself some time to get your head on straight and pretend to be put together.

You’re not even sure whose house this is, you didn’t recognize the address when it was given to you over the phone and standing on the front porch now in front of an open door with people and music pouring out of it, you think you’ve made a huge mistake.

Despite the nagging feeling in your gut telling you to turn around and run back home, you think of Steve and you just don’t have the heart to not show up. Pushing through the crowd of people proves harder than expected, a grunt escaping when you catch an elbow or hip that almost knocks you over. You keep pushing and pushing until finally you’ve made it through and you’re face to face with Robin, a smile breaking out over her face before she’s rushing forward to pull you into a hug.

She’s drunk, you can tell and she confirms as much when she pulls back and looks around to make sure no one is listening like she’s got some big secret. “Thank god you’re here! I don’t think I could take another second of Steve’s whining. We’re both three sips away from blackout drunk because I made it a game between the two of us.” She’s talking so fast and bobbing her head along that you can barely make out what she’s saying. But before you can ask her to clarify, she is.

“Yep. Told him that everytime he mentioned you or asked about you we’d both have to take a drink. Bad game idea now that I think about it, tomorrow is gonna suck but it was worth it. He’s awfully quiet when he’s not blabbing about you. Jesus Christ I don’t even want to think about how many times I’ve heard the word bunny in the last hour and a half.”

Your heart is thudding dangerously fast in your chest, a blush working its way up your cheeks and you think if you’d fall to the ground if it wasn’t for Robin still clinging onto you.

Before you can even begin to dissect her words you’re pushed forward, a curse falling past your lips as you grip Robin’s arm hard enough to make her wince and curse at the person behind you. It doesn’t take long before you figure out who it is though.

“There she is, there’s m’girl.” He’s right there behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and head tucked into the crook of your neck. You can feel his fingers digging into your tummy and his hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles closer to you. His deep, gravelly voice sends a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but to relax into him, eyes fluttering closed as his words wash over you.

He’s drunk, beyond drunk, and you know that but it doesn’t mean your thighs don’t clench at the quick, wet open mouthed kisses he’s leaving on the side of your neck before you can manage to pull away and turn around to get a good look at him.

Turning around was a bad idea. Oh my god it was such a bad idea. Because when you do you’re faced with the sexiest, most devastatingly hot version of Steve you’ve ever seen in your life.

Holy fuck. You’re fucked. So fucked.

He has on a button up that hugs his arms so nicely you could cry, the first few buttons undone and showing off a patch of chest hair you didn’t know he had but is now making your eyes widen and fuck there goes another pair of panties. There’s a sheen of sweat over his neck and chest where he’s been dancing and his eyes are dark, pupils blown and almost crazed looking as he takes you in. Those lips you’ve dreamed about for weeks are parted just so, his tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip and you’ve never seen anyone so perfect. Your hands are clenched at your sides as you drink him in, his hair a mess like he’s run his hands through it a million times tonight and his forehead and neck are slick with sweat too. Goddamn it. Goddamn this party and goddamn Steve Harrington for looking like that.

You’re so caught up in Steve that you forget Robin is there, hell you’ve forgotten you’re at a party filled with people at all, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking like that or when he’s looking at you like that. Not when his hands are still on you and he’s giving you a smirk that would have any person dropping to their knees.

Before you do anything too embarrassing you turn back to Robin who is now looking at you both like you’ve got 4 heads. “Rob, how are you getting home? I can walk you but I think you’ve both had enough fun tonight.” You ignore Steve’s whine from behind you, stomping his foot like a toddler at the prospect of having to leave.

“Oh! Don’t worry about me, Nance is coming to pick me up. I just knew Harrington wouldn’t be concerned with anyone but you tonight so I called in for backup.”

Looking back over your shoulder you see Steve with a shy smile as he gives you both a small shrug as to say ��yeah and what about it”. Robin flies off before you can say anything else, assuming she’s seen Nancy or someone else she knows you turn back to Steve and take his hand in yours getting ready to tug him out the door when he stops you.

“But you just got here, didn’t even get to have any fun with you, bunny.” He’s wearing an adorable little pout that makes you smile and you’re sure he won’t remember this tomorrow so you reach up to push his hair back, patting his cheek on your way.

“You’re drunk, Steve. Like drunk drunk. I need to get you home and in bed, okay? We can do something tomorrow, promise, but I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.”

“Oh we’re going to bed? I can get behind that.”

“You are going to your bed and I am going to my own bed tonight, Harrington.” You pinch his side to scold him but he doesn’t care, trying to come off as innocent as possible even though he’s got you reeling right now.

If there’s one thing Steve knows how to be, it’s dramatic. “Ugh fine! But I am not leaving until you dance with me. Just one, baby, please?”

“One, Harrington!” You huffed, pretending to be annoyed as he dragged you further into the crowd of people. You were too focused on him and the feel of his skin on yours to even pay attention to what song was booming around you.

His hands were on your hips, yours wrapped around his neck as you swayed back and forth. You were almost positive this was not a slow song but you didn’t care. Everyone was practically dry humping around you, but when he flashed you that ‘King Steve’ smirk you couldn’t help but to smile back, shaking your head at him.

He pulled you closer to him, leaning down to talk to you over the loud music and chatter from the people pressed in on every side of you.

“So pretty, you know that?”

“You’re drunk, Steve.”

He scoffed, acting like that offended him. “And? That doesn’t make it any less true.”

Rolling your eyes you just shook your head, trying to look at anywhere else but him. It was hard acting like his words didn’t make your heart skip a beat, but he was drunk and now was not the time to dive into this.

Gripping your chin between his fingers, your eyes were brought to his. “M’serious. Don’t roll your eyes at me like it’s silly. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Words stuck in your throat you didn’t know what to do besides look at him and why the fuck did it feel like you were about to cry. All you could do was nod, pulling back to create some sort of space between you two. You needed to breathe, to think and you couldn’t do that pressed up against him.

“Your one dance is up! Let’s go, Harrington.”

Dragging him behind you was like trying to drag a toddler out of a candy store. He was pouting, dragging his feet behind you and making this as difficult as possible. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what? Your name?”

“Harrington. Don’t call me that, I don’t like it, like it when you call me Stevie.” You didn’t say anything, just kept walking. This was going to be the longest ten minute walk of your life. He took your silence as his cue to keep going, “I keep thinking about it—your hand on my cock, I mean. Can’t even tell you how many times I’ve got off to it in the last few days. And your lips, oh my god, your lips. Takin’ up all the space in my brain, pretty girl.”

“Steve!” You turned around and smacked at his chest. “We are not talking about this when you’re almost blackout drunk, alright? We’re taking you home. That’s it, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am!” He saluted you, doing a poor job at keeping his amusement at bay. It’s quiet between the both of you for the rest of the walk, up until you’re at his door and fumbling for his keys that he’s dangling above your head like it’s a game.

“I’ll give you the keys if you promise to talk about this with me.”

“Sleep outside for all I care!”

“Oh cmon, please? Pretty please? You’re acting weird with me and I may be drunk but I’m aware enough to know I miss you, even if you’re right here.”

Alright so maybe you hadn’t done a good job of pretending to be normal. Or maybe Steve just knew you better than you thought, which was scary. You needed to rip the bandaid off. Push your fears aside and try and work this out so you don't feel so miserable and alone all the time.

“Tomorrow, okay? Go inside and get some sleep and I promise I’ll come over tomorrow and we’ll have a real conversation about this. I swear, Steve but we cannot do it while you're drunk off your ass.”

Your ass that looks amazing in these jeans, might I add.

He huffed like a petulant child, rolling his eyes and dropping his keys into your open palm and moved aside so you could finally open the door. Pushing the door open you shoved him in, making sure he didn’t fall and then stepping back onto the porch.

“I’m going, okay? Go drink a big glass of water and then go to bed. I’ll see tomorrow.”

He flashed you one of those lazy smiles that made you melt, giving you a little wink as he leaned against his doorframe. “G’night, bunny. Can I get a goodnight kiss?”

“Goodnight, Stevie.”

All you heard as you walked down his steps was his laughter and the door closing, porch light turning on so you could see. You waited on the sidewalk until you were sure he locked his door.

You were fucked, as per usual.

*********************************

It’s an hour before you’re supposed to be at Steve’s and you feel like you’re gonna throw up. You’ve spent the whole day pacing around your room and picking up the phone every fifteen minutes to cancel on him.

But you can’t. You promised. And you’re cursing yourself for swearing anything to a drunk Steve, especially because he shouldn’t even remember it but of course he did! He called you bright and early, far too early for how drunk he had been, and reminded you about your “date” as he’d called it.

You’d thrown on one of his t-shirts because the smell of him surrounding you was the only thing keeping you sane right now. You didn’t have the energy to get dolled up for him, too nervous about tonight to even think about it.

You’ve gone back and forth about a million times on what to say and you’ve decided on the truth. You’d tell him you liked him as more than a friend, that you didn’t want to lose him but didn’t want to keep it from him anymore.

And you’d hope for the best.

God you were definitely gonna throw up. You’d cried probably five times today already, your hands had been shaky since you woke up, and you slept like shit. But you couldn’t keep going like this. Having little pieces of him was enough, at least you thought it was. But it wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t fair to either of you.

The clock ticking away was taunting you. You needed to leave now and for the first time today your feet didn’t want to move. Cmon, be a big girl.

******************************

The walk to Steve’s was quiet but your mind was anything but. You were staring at his front door now like it would bite you if you got too close. He must have had a sixth sense, or he was watching from the window like a puppy because one second you're staring at his door and the next it’s thrown open and he’s there. He’s there and he’s beautiful and he’s glowing even though he should be glued to the bathroom floor from how much he drank.

“How ya feeling, Harrington?”

He tugged you in and closed the door behind you, that pout you’ve grown to love staring back at you. “Told you not to call me that, didn’t I? It’s Stevie to you.”

He tried to pull you into him but you slipped past, running into the living room and plopping down on the couch, hearing his footsteps follow after you quickly. He sat down on the opposite end and you must have been frowning at that because he was quick to speak up.

“I’m only sitting so far away because I actually want to have this conversation and if you’re too close to me I won’t be able to focus, honey. Don’t frown at me.”

Eyebrows raised, you stared at him. He’d always been blunt with you, openly flirty but sometime in the last few days a switch had flipped with him too. You always thought it was casual but now he’s saying things that make you feel like he might want this too, might want you.

“Oh, um, alright. That makes sense, I guess.”

It was quiet and you were quickly realizing you weren’t the only one that was nervous. His fingers were running along the stitching of the couch and your hands were twisting in your lap.

Fuck it, it was now or never. “I’m gonna start, if that’s okay?” He nodded at you and you cursed yourself for speaking up. But maybe if you just pushed it all out as quick as possible this would be quick and painless. Or maybe the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you whole.

“I’m gonna say this and then we can go from there. I like you. A lot. More than best friends like each other. I don’t think best friends give their friends handjobs either but we did that and anyways I like you. If you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, I’ll get over it. I just don’t want to lose you, ya know? I get it might be awkward at first and it might take time but you’re just so important to me. The most important person in my life. And you’re so good, so special I would just be really sad if I didn’t have you. But it wasn’t fair to me or to you to keep it from you so here I am. Saying lots of shit. But the point is I like you and I want you anyway you’ll have me.”

You were sucking in quick breaths by the time you finished, taking your quick and painless approach a little too far. You don’t think you actually took a breath during that little speech and that wasn’t doing anything to help with the lightheadedness you were already feeling.

He was dead still and quiet beside you and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Okay…maybe you had completely misread this situation. The longer it took him to speak the worse you felt. Maybe you could make it to the door before he even noticed you were up? He seemed stunned. Maybe you could make it?

“Don’t run.”

Could he read your fucking mind? What the hell was that? But you obeyed, still looking straight ahead and didn’t dare turn toward him. God this was horrible. There was a reason you kept your feelings all bottled up, because there was a chance it would go like this! You let them out and you feel even worse than you did before.

“I’m sorry I’m not saying anything but I’m a little pissed off and trying to find a way to say this that doesn’t come out mean,”

wait—what? Oh god. If you were lost before you were gone now. Pissed off? About what? “I’m pissed off because it sounds like you're writing this off as nothing before I’ve even been aware there was something there. And I’m pissed at myself because I’ve done a pretty shit job at showing my feelings for you. I thought it was obvious I was obsessed with you, but it seems you didn’t pick up on it and I’m pissed we wasted so much time tip toeing around each other when you could have even officially been my girl for a long time now.”

You didn’t even know where to start with that. Where to even begin unpacking what he had just thrown at you. A little part of you wasn’t totally shocked but you’d really just done such a good job at convincing yourself it was one-sided that you felt like you’d just gotten a bomb dropped on you.

“I…well I just thought you were that way with everyone.”

He looked at you like you were stupid, and maybe you were. Your brain was trying to catch up to what had just happened and was doing a shit job when he looked at you as if it was common sense that he felt that way.

“Have you ever heard me call anyone else baby, or sweetheart, or honey, or anything like that?”

“Well no, but—”

“Am I ever hanging all over anyone else? Trying to get their attention and be as close to them as possible? Tugging on anyone’s hair or holding their hands or making them cuddle me?”

“I mean not that I’ve been but Stevie—”

“You haven’t, because all that shit is reserved for you, baby. I only call you those names, mainly because I love to see your cheeks get all pink. I only touch you like that. Only want you on me. I get so fuckin’ jealous when you’re looking at anyone else. I tug on your hair like a toddler just so you’ll look at me or tease me or scold me. You get that? It’s only you. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear enough but I fuckin’ swear. You’re my best friend but you’re so much more. You’re my girl, my bunny, aren’t you?”

One second you were feet away from him on the couch and the next you’re launching yourself across and into his lap so quickly he barely had time to wrap his arms around you before your lips were pressed against his. It was hot and messy and urgent as if one of you would disappear at any moment.

“M’sorry, Stevie. So sorry. It’s not you, it’s my brain. I just get so scared and I just care about you so much I just…I convinced myself you didn’t want me that way and I got so deep in those feelings I wouldn’t let myself see any different. And I didn’t bring it up, I hid it from you and I’m sorry. Oh my god, I’m sorry.”

You’re a mess in more ways than one, emotions all over the place and a million thoughts racing through your mind as you kiss him all over, desperate to be as close to him as humanly possible.

“Shh, shh, don’t be sorry, baby. Nothing to be sorry for. I get it, but now you know that you can talk to me about this stuff, right? We’ll work through it together and figure out the tough shit. I’m not going anywhere. You got me, okay? I’m all yours, always have been.”

Nodding against him was all you could do, too overwhelmed and wrapped up in everything him to think about anything else. He was so sweet, too sweet. He understood you, cared enough to make you feel seen and heard and god it might not the right time but you didn’t care, all you could think about was being with him, close to him, anything you could get.

He was yours now and you would not waste another second.

“Take me upstairs, please.” The words mumbled against his lips but he heard them loud and clear, his hand grabbing yours and dragging you behind him like a rag doll.

He’s barely got the door to his room closed when you’re pushing his back against it, dropping to your knees in front of him and fumbling your way through trying to undo his pants. You know you seem desperate but you are desperate. You’ve never wanted someone like you want him and you think that if you don't get your mouth on him in the next five seconds that the world might actually end.

He’s cursing above you, hands hovering like he doesn’t know where to put them before the land in his hair, head falling back against the door as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Somehow between your quick moving hands and some help from Steve you manage to unbutton his pants, wiggling them over his hips and whimpering at the way they catch on his thighs. Neither of you bother with getting them off, far too occupied with how he’s straining against his boxers. His hands move for them but before he can you’re leaning forward, kissing the outline of his cock through the material and the noise that leaves his mouth is enough to have you moaning against him.

Your knees are already feeling sore against the hardwood floor but you think if he keeps making noises like that you’d stay here for hours.

Chancing a look up at him while you place kisses up and down the length of him you’re met with his eyes instantly, a pained look on his face as he stares down at you. You leave one last kitten lick through his boxers before you pull back enough to really see him. “Are yo- are you okay? Is this not…am I not..I haven’t done this in awhile so I’m not sure if it’s any good, I’m sorry.”

He’s got you up to your feet so fast it makes you dizzy and he’s suddenly looking at you with a look so serious you’re scared you’ve fucked this up. All because you wanted his cock in your mouth damnit!

Before you can apologize again he’s gripping your arms, forcing you to look at him. “You are perfect, that was perfect and fuck I can’t even believe I’m actually turning down the chance to have your pretty mouth on me but I think if you did I’d cum instantly and that would be really embarrassing. So as much as I want it, and believe me baby I want it, I need this to last more than two seconds, alright?”

The initial sting of rejection is quickly replaced with a feeling of pure lust, a craving for him so strong that it makes you falter in front of him. You can’t help the small pout on your lips, you’d really wanted to taste him, to watch him fall apart above you!

“Don’t pout, honey. Y’can have my cock whenever you want. But right now all I’m worried about is making you feel good, okay?” He tugs your bottom lip with his thumb and you smile shyly, lips puckering against the tip of his finger and leaving a small kiss there that makes him smile fondly.

But then an idea sparks and you decide if you can’t taste his cock you want to taste some of him at least. You watch with satisfaction as his jaw goes slack, eyes widening when you part your lips around his thumb, taking it deeper into your mouth and showing him what he's missing by denying you what you really want. Both of you stand there quiet for a moment, you just barely bobbing your head on his thumb and moaning around it when he presses down lightly on your tongue. He’s cursing under his breath, pulling his thumb from your lips with a pop and dripping your chin that’s now slick with your own spit.

“Greedy girl. So needy for cock you’ll stand here and suck on my thumb. S’kinda desperate don’t ya think, baby?”

Under any other circumstance you think you’d be crying from embarrassment but even though his words are teasing, the way he’s looking at you is anything but. He’s got a mean mouth but his eyes are telling you how much he loves it, how lucky he is, how he’s just as desperate if not more.

“Just yours,” His brows are furrowed and a piece of hair falls over his forehead and you clarify quickly, feeling a little shy under his stare, “just your cock, Stevie.”

Realization dawns on him he feels a twitch in his boxers as he stares at you, lips messy with spit and eyes dark just like his. “Just for me, huh?” He can’t even make the adoration for you, a warm sensation running through his body as you nod at him with pink cheeks.

He doesn’t think there’s anyone as perfect as you and the fact that you’re standing here, telling him you need him—fuck how did he get this lucky? There must have been a glitch in the system, some sort of blip but he wasn’t complaining and wouldn’t question it with you hanging on him like you were.

Determined to show you that he was just as needy for you, wanted you just as badly he took your shoulders, gently pushing you until the back of your knees hit his bed. You fell back with a plop, moving yourself back when he nodded his head at you in encouragement.

Hungry didn’t even begin to describe how Steve was looking at you. He was staring you down as if he wanted to devour you, and you’d let him. No one had ever shown any interest in going down on you and it had become something you’d just kind of accepted you wouldn’t experience.

Steve was going to change that.

“Can I, baby?” His hands hovered over your shorts. You’d come over in these and one of his shirts, not caring enough to get dressed up when your goal was to get it all off as quickly as possible. “Need to see your pretty little cunt, bet she’s aching for me, yeah? But she’s all wet and needy and begging for my attention, isn’t she, bunny?”

Jesus Christ, he had a mouth on him. His words alone had you clenching around nothing, hips lifting as you nodded quickly so he could pull your shorts down. He left your panties on and you cursed, a wave of embarrassment flooding through you, mostly because you knew he’d see how wet you were, how wet you had been for weeks because of him.

Shorts thrown somewhere on the floor behind him your thighs closed quickly, head resting on your shoulder as you leaned up on your arms for support. You’d need all the support you could right now. But Steve wouldn’t have any of that. His tongue clicked, a reprimand for depriving him a look between your thighs when it’s all he’d been thinking about for months. He knocked your knees apart and if you weren’t so desperate to see his reaction your head would have fallen back on the bed.

You’d have thought it was Christmas morning the way he was grinning. Or as if he had just won the lottery! And to him, he had.

“Messy messy girl. Poor thing, I’ll have to fix this, yeah?”

It was all you could do to nod at him and it was only seconds later that he dove in, taking one long, slow lick up the front of your panties, pressing a gentle kiss where your clit was that had you falling back and throwing your arm over your eyes. He was gonna be the death of you.

Apparently that one little taste was enough to dissolve whatever will power he had left because in the next ten seconds your hips were lifted and panties were practically torn down your legs. He took no time at all getting himself back between your thighs, hands on either one holding them apart so he could bury his face there.

If it didn’t feel so good you’d be pissed that this was what you’d been missing out on, but when Steve was sucking your clit into his mouth with the right amount of pressure to have you seeing stars, or using his fingers to stretch you for his cock, you couldn’t have cared less about anything or anyone else.

You’d also never seen Steve so quiet. Well, he wasn’t exactly quiet, you could feel his muffled moans and pleas against you as you gripped his hair in your hands and pulled him closer, but he was more content than he’d ever been.

You’re not sure how you manage any thoughts, let alone words right now when he’s making you feel so good and you can feel that burn in your tummy that tells you you’re close, but you still find it in you to tease him.

“Can’t believe this was all it took to shut you up, should’ve done this ages ago.” It doesn’t come out as clean and quick as you wanted, it takes about 30 seconds to manage the words. But you’re proud of yourself for teasing him but immediately regret it when he pulls away, a whine leaving your throat as you try and tug him back.

“Y’sure you wanna be mean to me when it’s my mouth you’re grinding against?”

His words ooze with confidence and you know it’s well earned because he’s got you in the palm of his hand. You take the opportunity to get a good look at him, eyes almost black and hair all messy from where you’ve pulled and tugged for the last 15 minutes. He’s wearing his signature smirk and you gasp at his swollen lips and chin that’s quite literally dripping wet with you.

“M’sorry, sorry. Please keep going, I was so close.” He doesn’t make you beg, even though at this point you’d get on your hands and knees if he asked. He goes right back to work, picking up the same pace and you know it won’t take long before that burn in your belly engulfs you completely.

He takes instructions well, groaning his acceptance when you tug him back to your clit, nodding his head in understanding. “Gonna cum, gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, Stevie,” You’re babbling now, hoping he can make out some of your words as you move your hips faster and harsher against him, chasing your own release.

You can’t hear what he’s saying but can feel his mouth moving against you. He never truly shuts up. And you don’t know it but he’s begging for you to cum. It sends you over the edge anyways, thighs closing around his head tightly as you gasp and your body locks up. It’s too much and not enough, you’re buzzing from head to toe and then you feel him helping you through it, small little licks to your clit, his hands rubbing at your trembling thighs as you try and catch your breath.

“Fuck” Steve might have said it, or it might have been you, you’re not sure. Chest heaving you can’t do anything but stare at the ceiling above you, trying to get your heart to slow down so you can make sense again.

All of a sudden your line of sight is cut off by a mop of brown hair and two sparking eyes hovering over you, a smile so big you’re sure his cheeks must hurt. “Best meal of my life, baby.” His chin is still wet and you move your hand up to collect some on your thumb, sticking it in your mouth with a hum and he doesn’t waste any time before he’s diving down to press his lips against yours. Tasting yourself on his lips makes you moan and it’s then you feel his cock against your stomach, hot and slick and begging for attention.

Pulling away you look down between you and see that sometime between getting you on the bed and making you cum he’s taken his boxers off. When you look back up to him he smiles sheepishly,

“Sorry they were diggin’ into me and I was about to go crazy. But I can…I can put em back on. Don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything else, I’ll happily go back between your thighs and spend the rest of my life there, if you’ll let me.”

Grabbing the back of his neck you pull him down until your foreheads are pressed together, shaking your head at him like he’s crazy. “Stevie, not to be too forward but I refuse to leave this room without you fucking me.”

He laughs. It’s loud and it makes you giggle and your noses are bumping against one another and he’s pressing kisses to your cheeks and the corner of your mouth and he’s backing up just enough to get a good look at you, “Thank fucking god.”

Steve was big. Not that you were complaining but damn you were a little worried about how that was going to fit inside of you. A little part of you was worried about him fitting but a bigger part of you just really wanted this to be good, for both of you. It was cliche but you wanted fireworks and passion and to feel him for days after.

You weren’t a virgin, you’d been with a few guys over the years and sex for you had always just been…okay. Yeah, sometimes it was good, but it was never how you’d read in books or heard on tv shows and movies. Steve didn’t know it but he had just given you your first orgasm by sometime other than yourself! It had never been the mind blowing, toe curling experience you thought it would, but if anyone was going to break the standard, it was Steve Harrington.

He must’ve seen the worry on your face, moving to lay beside you with his hand rubbing comforting circles on your hip. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? Say the word and we can watch a movie or get late night pizza, whatever you want.”

“Can this be one of those times where I say a bunch of shit and you don’t judge me or laugh? Just listen to me.” He nodded at you, all hints of teasing and playfulness gone. You’re sweet Stevie.

“Ok, so, right okay—so I’ve had sex before and it’s been alright but I don’t want alright with you. I want hot and sweaty amazing sex that I’m gonna think about for the rest of my life, ya know? And I don’t doubt that you can deliver, trust me I’m sure you can,” you lean towards him as if you’re not the only ones in the room—the house, and whisper like it’s a secret, “you’ve seen your dick, right? That thing is massive and you seem like you know how to use it!” You sit back up then, only a little embarrassed at your rambling before you continue, “so I guess I’m more worried than I won’t be able to deliver and I just really like you and want this to be good for you and I think I’d never recover if you didn’t have a good time and—”

He stops you with a hand over your mouth, eyes wide and a small smile playing on his lips as he stares at you. “Take a breath, baby. Now.”

Your mouth drops open as soon as he removes his hands, your mind going black at the tone of his voice, so stern and deep. But you do as he says, taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly, looking to him for confirmation that you’ve done something right.

“Good girl, there ya go. Now, I didn’t want to cut you off but you were gonna run out of air if I didn’t. It’s my turn to talk now and you’re gonna listen, right?” You can’t help but just nod at him, your mind trying to catch up to your body as his words sink in and wash over you.

He rubs his thumb against your cheek to soothe you and it does the trick, your pulse calming down enough that you can breathe again.

“You do remember about half an hour ago when I stopped you from putting this pretty mouth on my cock because I would’ve cum in seconds, right? Because I’m sorry that I haven’t made it clear to you that this is already the best experience I’ve ever had. Fuck, baby, having your hand on me a few days ago was the highlight of my year. Eating your sweet little pussy is gonna get me off for the rest of my life. This is only good for me because it’s you. You hear me? You don’t need to be nervous or worried about me enjoying this, I swear to you I’m havin’ the time of my life.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until he’s wiping away your tears with his thumb, cooing at you and making your heart thump so hard you can feel it in your toes.

“I love you, ya know.”

This time it’s his turn to be stunned into silence but it only lasts a few seconds before he’s kissing you, or he’s trying his best, it’s hard to kiss when he’s smiling so big against your mouth. “Oh I know, and I love you too, more than anything.”

You feel like a teenager, giggling and peppering kisses all over his cheeks, so in love and just so breathtakingly happy it’s almost unbelievable. You feel silly now that you ever worried about anything, not even he’s so perfect and sweet and kind and yours. He’s worth every minute of panic and stress though.

Then he opens his mouth and you remember that you’re still embarrassingly wet and that he’s still throbbing against your hip.

“And don’t worry about my cock, bunny, we’ll make it fit.”

His thumbs slide under the band of his boxers and he looks to you, making sure it’s okay that he finally peels them off. When you nod he wastes no time in dragging them over his hips and down his legs until he’s kicking them off and onto the ground, both of you letting out a sigh of relief.

You thought Steve’s cock was pretty the first time you saw it but that’s nothing compared to now. He’s painfully hard, tip red and leaking, smearing precum where it lays twitching against his belly. You hold a little resentment toward him now for not letting you put your mouth on him. You think there might even be some drool on your lip as you look at him.

He’s watching you stare at his cock and trying not to cum on the spot, hands clutching his comforter do tight he might rip it. He has to move his eyes away from you so he can attempt to focus, too worked up to really make any sense right now.

“Honey how do you…what do you think would be better for you?” He wants this to be as painless for you as possible, only wants for you to feel good. He’d twist into a pretzel if he thought it would be better for you.

“I’ll uh, I’ll be on top. I think that’ll be best so I can um—I think that’ll be good for me.” He’s not totally sure that his eyes don’t cross at the thought of you riding him, he has to pinch the bridge of his nose hard just to right himself.

You urge him to scoot back so he’s laying down, head resting against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. You move yourself to straddle his thighs, worried that you won’t be able to think straight. In a flash of bravery you whip off his t-shirt and watch as his cock twitches and his mouth drops open. His hands immediately find your painfully hard nipples, tweaking them softly and watching as your stomach clenches when he does.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits, swear to god. Jesus Christ you’re gorgeous, honey. All of ya, every inch.”

“Can’t wait anymore, Stevie, need you in me please.” The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s reaching towards his nightstand and you don’t know what comes over you but before you can stop it you reach out and grab his arm. Neither of you say anything, staring each other down and waiting for someone to speak, to move.

Fuck. You don’t know why you did that, obviously you should use protection. But…you’re on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in what? A year and a half? And the thought of feeling him…all of him—fuck you know it’s stupid but you can’t care about it right now when he’s so pretty and his cock is so pretty and you just want him.

He speaks before you muster the courage too, voice sounding strained, “Baby..are you saying…are you sure? It’s been awhile since I’ve been with anyone and m’clean I swear but—fuck are you sure?”

“M’sure if you are. Just wanna feel you, Steve.”

He could weep. He could fall to his knees and weep. Here you are, prettiest girl he’s ever seen and not only do you even want to have sex with him but you want to do it raw—fuck he wasn’t gonna last.

“Fuckin’ unreal, you are unreal.”

Instead of answering you took the opportunity to move forward and hover over his cock. Some of your confidence drained, all of this feeling much more real now that he was inches away from you. But you knew there was nothing to be scared of, this was Steve. Your Stevie. There was no one else you trusted like him and you knew he’d take care of you above anything else.

He took hold of himself, moving down a little so he could run his tip up and down your slit, coating his cock and hissing at the contact. Your grip on his shoulders stuttered when his tip bumped against your clit and you swear your whole body shuddered.

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby? I’ll just hold still and you go at your own pace, we’ve got all the time you need.” You lifted up a little, his tip nudging at your entrance and as you sank down your lips fell open into a silent moan. Your eyes were shut but you could feel Steve watching you and you could feel his grip on your hips tightening as you moved painfully slow.

“Doin’ so good baby, so so good.” You preened under his praises, body relaxing as you opened up for him. You knew it would be a stretch, but it was good. The burn of him filling you up turning you on even more, if that was possible. Being this close, this full of him made you feel light headed in the best way possible.

It took a few minutes but now you were fully seated, your hips pressed together as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, trying to keep your composure. It was overwhelming in the best way, your body on overdrive as you tried to accommodate all of him.

He looked like he was overwhelmed too, little puffs of air coming out of his nose and his eyes screwed shut. He was still, not moving and for a minute you were worried but when you moved on him, his eyes flew open and his hands grasped your hips tight.

“Wait, wait wait, baby—fuck. You gotta…I gotta…just don’t move. Please. Gimme a sec you feel too good, fuck.” You nodded, giggling a little and when you did you heard him gasp. Both of you could feel everything and it was so much.

You sat still for what felt like hours but could have only been a minute or two before he looked at you, nodding slightly and you took that as your sign to start moving. Lifting up about halfway you dropped your hips back down, gasping at the sensation of him filling you up so well and the little curses slipping out of him only spurred you on.

“Oh my god, Stevie. You’re so—I’m so full. So full of you I just..fuck.” You tilted your hips forward when you dropped down this time, his hip brushing against a spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed but lit you on fire. It made you go faster, sliding down hard and a moan so loud you should be embarrassed came out when your clit caught on the little patch of hair he had near the base.

Steve seemed to be out of his mind, mumbling praises and curses under his breath. He couldn’t decide where to look, all the options too good to miss. He could look at your pretty face, all flushed and glowing from the sweat you’d worked up. He could look at your tits, so perfect and pretty and bouncing right in front of his face. Or he could look at where you connected. He could watch his cock disappear into you over and over again but that combined with how good you felt meant this would be over very soon. And he wanted, no needed, for this to last forever.

As if his cock filling you up didn’t feel good enough, add in his filthy fucking mouth and his thumb he had rubbing quick, tight circles on your swollen clit and you were a goner.

“Such a pretty girl. You really are my little bunny, huh, bouncing on my cock like you were made to do it. You were, weren’t you? Made for me, baby.”

“Feels so good, honey. Snug little cunt feels like heaven.”

“Gonna make me cum, you know that? Gonna cum with my girl on my cock.”

It hit you out of nowhere, maybe it was him comparing you to a fucking bunny or maybe it was him calling you his girl. You’re not sure. All you know is one minute you’re there and the next your toes are curling and your face is buried in the crook of his neck, mouth open against his throat as you cum so hard your ears are ringing and you can’t feel or think about anything but him him him.

Steve Steve Steve

“Fuckin’ shit, baby. M’gonna cum, gonna cum. Where do you want it, bunny? Huh? Please please please—shit.” You can’t even move your arms, let alone the rest of your body but you can feel how you’re still clenched around him and you can feel how both of your thighs are soaked.

All you can manage is to lean up just a tad, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, “In me, want it in me, please Stevie.” And then he had one hand in your hair, holding you to him while his hips lifted and then stilled, groaning something obscene into your ear and if you weren’t so exhausted and overwhelmed that alone would have made you cum again.

You laid there on top of Steve, his arms now around your waist as he pressed small kisses to your shoulder. Your legs felt like jelly and you really think you could pass out right here with him still inside of you.

“Y’alright, baby? Still with me?” The words were tired and mumbled against your hair, both of you still kind of out of it but it was so good, you still felt so good.

“M’okay, Stevie. Not to make your big head any bigger but Jesus Christ I think you just fucked me within an inch of my life.” He chuckled against you, teeth scraping over where your neck met your shoulder and you shivered. “Well I think technically you fucked me within an inch of my life, sweetheart.”

Pulling back just enough to get a look at him, his eyes were closed with a calm, relaxed look on his face. He must have felt you looking because one eye cracked open, a smile on his lips as he looked at you.

“What is it? Something on my face?”

You shook your head and pressed a quick peck to his lips, threading your fingers into his hair and burrowing back into the crook of his neck.

“No, I’m just happy, just love you.”

“I love you most, pretty girl.”

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