#it’s overwhelming but i wanna join the fun

[givemeureyes]

i wanna get into the life series like universe but i have no clue where to start

[kurooh]

MIGHT LET YOU MAKE ME JUNO ! — HAIKYUU

⊹₊˚. featuring timeskip! miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurō, iwaizumi hajime, & suna rintarou tryin’ to knock up their pretty wife !

warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, breeding, cuddlefucking, doggy, talk of kids & pregnancy, fluff, creampies, shower sex, minor cockwarming, squirting, full nelson, mirror sex, mention of lactation, mating press, cum in panties (offscreen), not proofread.

xoxo, juno ★ my namesake?! hehe, cheers to the surviving haikyuu fuckers on my blog <33 ty for your patience!! as always, send in some asks/reblog if you enjoyed, i love reading comments/tags

— MIYA ATSUMU

“go ahead ‘n slut yerself out all over my cock, baby.. fuuuck, jus’ like that.”

atsumu’s lips part around a needy moan, jaw hanging slackly in some kind of disbelief. after such a lengthy, tiring day, he found himself trudging into your shared bathroom to greet you.

he’d gotten hard in seconds, seeing your tits pressed against the glass door as well as your face, lidded eyes and cute pout enticing him to come join you. when he got onto his knees to get you ready, you’d bent over and tossed him a knowing smirk over your shoulder.

“lemme see that ass move again.. shit, ‘s perfect. yer perfect.” you giggle, throwing your ass back onto his cock, eyes rolling back when his tip kisses your cervix just right, sending sparks of pleasure right through your veins.

“tsumu, this isn’t all that fun,” you huff, the wild need for him to truly ruin you growing by the second. “wan’ you to fuck me, and make me yours.”

“baby, yer already mine,” atsumu lands a slap on your wet asscheek, startling you enough for your legs to spread further. “good girl,” he praises, hushed and under his breath. he reaches upwards and pulls the shower head down, pushes it into your hand and changes the setting.

“use this on yer clit, ‘kay? when yer feelin’ like ya wanna cum, don’t. hold it ‘n we’ll cum at the same time, yeah baby?”

you nod, and he smacks your ass hard, leaning backwards. atsumu pushes a hand through soaked gold strands, chuckling lowly although his voice has a serious edge to it. “‘s not how we say yes, is it?”

“y-yes, tsumu. at the same time.”

he draws his hips back, then finds himself advancing forward brutally. he doesn’t think about anything beside you — you, you, you. with the scent of your body wash tangling in the hot air, the beautiful curves and slopes of your body, the noises you make for him only.

your chest heaves when the steady spray of the shower head soon reaches your clit, immediately proving to be overwhelming and intense paired with him fucking you.

“so god damn tight,” atsumu hisses, nails digging crescent moons into the plush skin of your hips as his own collide with your ass. the bathroom is full of steam and the rhythmic clap of skin against skin — it’s hard to keep from trembling with how good everything feels, all over.

frantic panting cuts through the sound of your whimpers as atsumu feels himself nearing his peak. it’s nasty, downright filthy, the way your nails drag down the wall tiles as you desperately hump your ass back into him.

gasps of your name and affectionate nicknames fall from his lips like a sacred prayer, blending into a whiny harmony as atsumu’s thrusts grow rougher.

“baby,” he chokes, voice tight. “ya better be close, can barely last.”

“tsumu, cum inside me,” you beg, skin burning and pussy squeezing uncontrollably, squelching growing louder. “p-please, i can’t— i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna—” your body tenses, and the shower head falls to the floor with a clunk that neither of you register.

luckily atsumu looks down at the right moment, sees you squirt, pussy gushing onto his pelvis. as if your back arching and your clenching pussy wasn’t enough, he ends up cumming too hard, ribbons of white gushing deep into your awaiting pussy.

“fuckkk,” he groans, overstimulation setting in way too quickly and causing him to pull halfway out of your fluttering cunt.

“no, tsumu,” is all you can heave out, pushing back hard enough to send him into the wall behind him, muscled back hitting the tiles as he lets out a startled oomph. “wanna keep it inside, feels so good.”

— MIYA OSAMU

“samu,” you mumble into his lips, tossing a leg over his hip. he grunts, nose nudging your cheek as he pulls back. “yeah? what’s on yer mind, angel?”

“had a dream about a baby,” the words are spoken softly, and osamu’s fingers lightly graze your chin as he makes you look up at him. “i know it’s kinda stupid, but it was so..” your voice trails off sheepishly and there’s a pause before you admit, “you were such a good dad, samu, ‘n so sexy too.”

your bare bodies are bathed in the morning sunlight, warm and comforting as it peeks in through the curtains. this is the perfect moment with him, skin to skin, his cock still inside you as you kiss and talk about dreams of the future.

in his chest, feelings stir and ideas come to life in his head; osamu presses his hips forward with a hushed moan.

“well, i’ll give ya a baby, angel,” large hands smooth over your hips as he helps you turn away from him; then they pull you close, grabbing at your tits and tugging your nipples between his fingers.

“samu,” you sigh, words fading into a content moan as you feel his hips draw back, then advance forward, against your ass. “i want you to fill me up, give me everything.”

“only if ya take it all,” osamu huffs, tucking his face into your shoulder and closing his eyes as he starts to fuck his cock into you deeply. the thick tip kisses your sweet spot over and over, and if that wasn’t already overwhelming enough, your hand wanders towards your swollen clit.

somehow, osamu’s faster than you, releasing one of your tits and swatting away your hand before he’s finding your clit with his index finger and rubbing it in messy circles.

“s-samu, fuck— jus’ like that, don’t stop!”

your back arches against him, hips twisting as a heat spreads through your veins, fiery and intense in the best ways possible. the movement of your body and then the frantic clenching of your pussy is too intense for him; sharp whines escape his throat, muffled as osamu bites into your shoulder desperately.

“i-i— shit, ‘m gonna fill you up,” is all you can make out from his rushed mumbling, and you turn your head quickly, desperate for his lips.

“kiss me, samu. kiss me as you cum inside, please.”

it’s as though the words break him — his face twists as he kisses you, whole body tensing. he presses his cock deep, thickening and throbbing before he’s gushing cum and can’t seem to stop.

“ah, fuck,” he tosses his head back, fingers scrabbling at your nipples as his chest heaves against your back, heart pounding steadily.

you cum with a whine, grinding down on his cock in an effort to get him impossibly deeper. as you ride out your highs together, trembling deliciously, he can’t help but dissolve into giggles of pure happiness.

“angel, ya got that baby for sure, jus’ like ya wanted, hm? ah, i can’t wait for a mini-me or a mini-ya. yer gonna be the prettiest mom, swear.”

— KUROO TETSURŌ

“fuck, babe. you’ve got no idea about what i saw today,” tetsurō huffs, warm breath fanning over your tits as they bounce, controlled by your bra.

spices clatter as tetsurō sweeps his arm across the kitchen counter behind you, clearing the space so you can lean back a little easier. his grip on your thighs doesn’t waver, nor does the ruthless tempo of his hips.

“tetsu, what’d you see?” you gasp, tears threatening to pour over your waterline.

“well, i saw this family,” he grunts, thrusting into you particularly hard now that he’s recalling the memory. “the dad had their kid on his shoulders, and the mom was pregnant. they looked so happy, and it made me think of you.”

“is that so?” you ask, spreading your legs impossibly wider as an invitation. you bite your lower lip, rolling your hips against his in an effort to get his cock deeper.

“tetsu,” he raises his eyes from the mess between your legs to your face, earnest and flushed. “kiss me, baby.”

tetsurō obliges, lets you tug him forward by the chin, mesh his lips with yours. it’s warm and sweet, the aftertaste of the dessert you’d been making as his surprise for when he’d come home. your tongue slips between plush, parted lips and moves with his gently, quite a contrast from the rough way he’s fucking you.

“ah, shit,” he moans, struggling to kiss you back when he feels your sticky walls clenching down on his too sensitive cock.

tetsurō leans forward and buries his flushed face in your shoulder, kissing the tender skin a few times before nipping it and then finally biting down into your shoulder.

he practically loses it when you wrap your legs around his back, heels digging into muscle as you push him forward. in a hushed tone and into his ear, you say sweetly, “tetsu, fuck a baby into me.”

“oh, i fucking will, princess.”

although, despite his rough words, he’s wheezing and whining every now and then into your shoulder, hoping it muffles his sounds.

your hand slides up his neck and tangles into dark tufts of hair, pulling tight as your own orgasm approaches. your pleasure mixes with his own, and just before the knot in your belly snaps, you feel a strong pulsing deep within your pussy.

he groans loudly, burying his cock deep just as it starts to gush, painting your walls white. your nails dig hard into his scalp and the sting of pain only seems to make him get a little more vocal.

tetsurō pants into your neck, trying to find his bearings now that his limbs feel like jelly.

“hold me?”

— IWAIZUMI HAJIME

“h-haji, this was a good call..”

“oh yeah?” hajime’s voice rumbles in his chest, strong and steady against your back as he keeps your legs wide open. “have we ever tried this one?”

“i don’t think so, but we definitely will in the future.”

“feels that good, princess?” hajime chuckles, eyeing your reflections in the mirror mounted across the bed. for a moment, he considers the two of you puzzle pieces — he sees that his cock fits snugly inside you, and the thought that you may be made for each other briefly crosses his mind.

“of course it does,” a sheen of sweat glimmers on your face, skin glowing beautifully in the mirror. “god, hajime, y-you’re so deep..”

he notices your eyes falling shut, head tipping back, and he raises his hand to lightly smack your cheek. “mm, princess, gotta keep watching. i want you to see yourself cum, alright?”

“fine,” you huff, feet dangling in the air and bouncing every which way as he fucks into you, heavy balls smacking your pussy with each stroke.

“what made you wanna try this?” you ask, knowing you should save the question for later, but you’re too curious not to ask. why would your husband come home someday and randomly want to try a new position you’d never heard of?

“well, you know..” in the mirror, you catch the flush on his tanned cheeks. “we’ve both caught the fever recently, and this is a solid position for makin’ babies.”

you gasp sharply when hajime turns his hips ever so slightly, and the resulting sensation causes pressure to build in your pelvis. “shit— right there, haji, just like that..”

he grunts, body stiffening as he tightly holds you in place and fucks into you like it’s the last time you’ll ever be like this together.

“wanna get you pregnant,” hajime groans, abs flexing with the effort of maintaining his merciless pace, “i wanna—shit—wanna breed you.”

“you want it that bad?” you breathe, just barely keeping your eyes open and focusing on your bouncing reflection. “fuck me full, then, haji.”

hajime doesn’t question it, thinks of you with a swollen belly and milky tits all for him to hold and take care of. you, with your glowing skin and beautiful body from all the pregnancy hormones.

the idea of it all is too much to bear, not to mention cumming deep inside your cunt, this time with the intent to breed.

he can’t even muster the words to warn you that he’s cumming as hard as he is; after a choked, tight groan, he falls silent and rocks his hips into you.

“fuck it deep, haji,” you whisper, on the edge yourself. obedient and too far gone in his fantasy, he does exactly what you ask, whining very quietly from the sensitivity.

shaking on top of him and watching the reflections in the mirror, you cum hard, dissolving into unmatched pleasure. and you’re thankful you keep your eyes open, moaning at the very sight— hajime doesn’t even pull out, he’s still pushing his cock in and out of you, but cum races from your cunt in thick white rivulets.

“i’m trying,” he huffs, sensitive when he glances up and notices how intently you’re watching the mirror. his cheeks flush lightly when you both notice that most of his cum ends up dripping down his balls and out of you.

“don’t worry, princess. i’ll cum however many times it takes, sound good?”

— SUNA RINTAROU

“you want a few brats? oh, i just felt your pussy squeeze up. ‘s what you want, huh?” rintarou bites, harshness of his thrusts drawing whimper after whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.

“i want it, rin,” you feel one of his palms smoothing over the plushness of your lower stomach, just above your pelvis. “w-what’re you doing?”

he laughs at your stutter, keeps your legs steady over his shoulders. rintarou draws his hips back, leaving just his tip inside your quivering pussy. then, he presses down on your lower stomach and slides in, adding more pressure with each inch.

“rintarou!” you wheeze, jerking your hips to the side in a pathetic attempt to run away from the overwhelming pleasure he gives you with every movement, big or small.

“nuh uh, pretty girl,” his free hand grabs ahold of you tightly, tugs you towards him and then settles to rest on your neck. rintarou’s fingers are loose on each side of your throat, hand placed there in a demonstration of control. but what’s the point of that, when he’s already made it clear by hoisting your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half?

“you’ll take it, all of it.”

“but ‘m sensitive, i’ve cum too many times,” you can’t even recall a number or remember how long he’s been fucking you like this.

you’re both sticky with sweat, your thighs stained white with dried cum from previous rounds and marked with love bites he’d given you in his excitement to get a taste of your pussy.

it’s so fucking messy because rintarou’s the one who can’t stop asking to eat you out and push the cum back inside; you always say yes, then cum until you’re dizzy and can’t see straight.

you taste yourself from earlier on the corners of his lips when he bends forward and gives you a chaste kiss. “l-last time, okay? i’ll give you your brats, pretty girl.”

the sweet pout on your lips that’s quickly replaced with something else and wail of his name that leaves you when he starts jackhammering your pussy turns him on to the max.

incoherent babbling of what he’ll give you and how good you feel blend together, and before you can fully register it, rintarou’s folding forward with a deep groan. “shit, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard, i—”

he shuts up and gives you a few more thrusts before he’s pushing deep and cumming — he’s not done when he pulls out and covers your pussy in cum.

“r-rin, keep it inside,” you whine sadly, watching as he collects it on his tip and then plunges it back inside.

“jus’ needed some extra lube,” he says coolly, but he really just wants to cum all over you. “how’s it feel inside, pretty baby?”

“like i need some more.”

rintarou laughs at the way you turn away, cheeks hot in embarrassment because you were the one who wanted a break. “we are going out later, hm?”

your nod makes him smile, green eyes crinkling at the corners. “how about i cum in your panties and you walk around with ‘em?”

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve got the tattoo the day they held the very small, very secret service for Eddie.

He knew he had to get it somewhere hidden, didn’t wanna answer questions, not even from Robin.

The E+S on his upper thigh was precious to him, all he had left of the promises they made to each other as children and again as teenagers.

Eddie was Steve’s, even if he wasn’t here, and Steve would always be Eddie’s, even if Eddie no longer knew.

But eventually, the end of summer came, and the kids wanted to have something normal. Normal for them was a pool party that ended in a sleepover, and Steve didn’t have much choice about making it happen.

He wanted them to have something normal.

So he got his bathing suit on, forgetting the tattoo was in a spot that might show in it, and tried to have fun with them.

Robin noticed and then Max noticed, and once he’d tried getting out of the explanation twice in a row, Dustin and Will noticed.

So he just explained that he lost a dare with Tommy years ago and that got them to stop asking.

But he found himself crying in the shower that evening, trying his best not to make any noise as sobs wracked his body and it got harder and harder to breathe.

The only thing that snapped him out of it was the knowledge that Eddie would want him to go back downstairs to be with the kids. He wouldn’t want to see Steve like this.

He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to his tattoo, just like he’d done every single day since he got it.

And then he went downstairs to be with the kids.

His one rule during sleepovers at his house was he still go to sleep in his own bed. Sometimes Robin would join him, but most of the time, he slept alone.

He couldn’t sleep.

He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, but every time he closed his eyes and tried to drift, he’d get an overwhelming feeling of being watched.

His eyes would open and he’d look around, confused and frustrated.

And nothing would be there.

Which was good, great even. He didn’t want there to be anyone or anything there. But he did want an explanation for this feeling.

He sat up in his bed and sighed.

Maybe he could-

Something was definitely in his bathroom. The door had been closed earlier, like it always was, and now it was halfway open.

The light was off.

Steve stood from his bed silently, crept to the bathroom with his nail bat raised, and considered what would happen if he died up here.

“That’s a depressing thought even for your melodramatics, sweetheart.”

Steve barely resisted screaming at Eddie’s voice.

“Oh god. I’ve finally fuckin’ lost it,” he said as he turned the bathroom light on.

“I dunno. You still got it, baby. Even if you lost some weight in your ass.”

Eddie, or something that looked and talked like Eddie, was sitting on the sink in the bathroom.

“I did like those little swim trunks, though. Hope you wear those again for me.”

“What the fuck.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I said when I woke up alive. Kinda thought I was dying. Imagine my surprise when I didn’t.”

Steve held his bat tighter.

“Eddie? How?”

Eddie hopped off the sink and stepped closer, slowly, so he wouldn’t scare Steve.

“Not sure. But it’s not the craziest thing that’s happened.” Eddie wanted to touch him, Steve could tell. His hands were clenching into fists to resist. “I know I’m not human, but I’m close enough, I think.”

“Close enough for what?”

“To love you.”

Steve dropped the bat and fell against Eddie, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in, not caring about the dirt or sweat or grime clinging to his skin.

It was Eddie, and he’d take him any way he could have him.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to get back here for so long.” Eddie’s arms held him tight enough to bruise. “Won’t happen again, won’t leave you again.”

Steve’s sobs were loud, but trying to contain them physically pained him. He’d been in enough pain for months. He had to let these out.

He felt Eddie waving his hands behind him, but then heard Robin’s rambling and decided to turn.

“-and he’s been distraught for months but didn’t tell me anything and then I saw his tattoo earlier and I thought, well, must just be a joke you guys had. And then I was like, no, can’t be, because you barely spoke. Or at least I thought you did. Clearly I’m wrong. I’m super wrong. Wrongest I’ve ever been maybe.”

“Robs.” Steve’s choked voice silenced her. “You know how I told you to go for it with Nancy because I really didn’t have feelings for her?”

“I don’t see how this is relevant, but yeah.”

“She protected me, both of us, really, so we could be together. Offered to pretend to date me so no one would get suspicious.”

“Steve. Steve Harrington. You had a beard?”

Eddie snorted. “I know you said she was funny, but I’m pretty she’s my second favorite human now.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve been with Eddie for forever. I mean, since we were kids practically.”

Robin was silent. A rare thing for her.

“Robin?”

“Sorry, just taking this in.”

“Yeah, Eddie being alive is a lot-“

“Not that. That is gonna come a lot later once I stop and think about the fact that he’s some kind of zombie.” Robin leaned against the doorway. “The fact that I came out to my best friend and he didn’t return the favor. That is queer code, Steve.”

Eddie laughed, and Steve let out another sob. He’d missed him so much, missed his laugh, his arms around him, his heartbeat-

“Eds. Eddie.” Steve lifted his head and pressed both hands to his chest. “You-“

“Ah. So I don’t seem to have a heartbeat anymore. As far as I can tell, I did actually die.” Eddie shrugged as if this news wasn’t absolutely insane. “So my best guess is vampire since I prefer blood to brains. But I can get by without it for a pretty long time.”

“How long?”

“Well, I haven’t had any since the day I woke up. Which is a few months according to your calendar.”

Robin held her hands up. “I’m going. Good luck. The kids are gonna flip.”

“Do not tell them. Not yet.”

Steve needed tonight, needed to have Eddie to himself before everyone else stole it for a while. He wanted to be selfish for the first time in a very long time. He knew Robin would understand.

“Sure thing. But you’re gonna have to be quiet. You’re lucky none of them heard you crying.”

Steve nodded and curled back into Eddie, placing a kiss against his neck.

“Glad you’re back Eddie,” she said as she left.

“I need a shower,” Eddie said. “Think it’ll wake the kids?”

“Nah. They slept through a tree falling in the yard last month during a storm. Just need to be quick,” Steve pulled away to start grabbing what he’d need for a shower, but Eddie pulled him back on, running his nose along his neck and sending chills down his spine.

“You wanna join me?” He asked.

“Of course I do. But we won’t be quick if I join you,” Steve smiled.

A real smile. One he realized he hadn’t had on his face since spring break.

“You wanna wait in bed for me, then?” Eddie beamed back at him.

“Can I stay in here? I don’t-“ Steve sighed. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

Eddie’s smile softened into something endeared. “Yeah, sweetheart. You can stay. Talk to me. Tell me what I missed.”

Steve told him about everything he could while he showered away the Upside Down grime, watching his shadow behind the glass door of the shower to make sure it never disappeared.

They made sure the bedroom door was locked before crawling into bed together, Steve laying on top of Eddie like he always did before.

He was heavier, but Eddie never cared.

Steve slept so long, Eddie had no choice but to go downstairs in the morning so no one would wake him up.

The chaos that ensued was nothing short of overwhelming, but Eddie didn’t mind.

He was happy to back with all the kids, even if they asked incredibly inappropriate questions about his body to find out what he was.

When Steve finally came down, he was still half asleep and barely registered the open-mouth stares of everyone as he came up to Eddie and rested his head on his chest, wrapped his arms around his waist.

Eddie smiled down at him and kissed the top of his head.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, baby.”

“Sunshine?!” Dustin yelled.

“Baby?!” Mike yelled louder.

“Make them go away,” Steve sighed against his neck.

“You don’t wanna explain?” Eddie asked him, half joking.

“Not today. Scare them or something.”

“You think Eddie can scare us? We’ve all almost died!” Lucas said.

“Fine. Eddie and I are together, have been forever. The tattoo on me is our initials. Get out of my house.”

The kids just stared at them in silence until Steve finally turned from Eddie and put his hands on his hips.

“I wasn’t asking. Get out.”

The kids scrambled to leave, making promises (threats) to come back soon.

Robin waved as she walked out with them, throwing them both a wink and knowing smile.

“So how long do you think we have until they come back?” Eddie asked, rocking them back and forth gently.

“Few hours maybe.”

“I can do a lot in a few hours,” Eddie nipped at Steve’s ear, making him shiver and laugh.

“You got super strength with your new life?” Steve grinned at him.

“I wouldn’t call it super, but I could definitely carry you back to bed.”

Steve jumped up and wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist, arms around his neck.

“Carry me to bed, then, Eds.”

“Anything your heart desires, Stevie.”

[hana-no-seiiki]

WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

[ ACT ONE HERE ]

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.

summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’

MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS

“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”

“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”

“We weren’t . . . “

As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.

I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?

They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.

Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.

You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.

He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.

If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.

Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.

He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.

Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.

It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”

And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.

He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.

And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.

“Hey, [N/N].”

The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.

“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.

And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.

Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”

“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.

You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.

Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.

“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”

“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.

You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.

“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.

“Meet Fishbones.”

BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:

Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?

You could tell he was pulling his punches.

Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.

You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).

“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.

That was one of Bruce’s buildings.

“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”

“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.

Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.

His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.

He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.

He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.

What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?

"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.

Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.

“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.

Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.

“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.

No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.

“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.

He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.

“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”

And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.

You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.

“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”

“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”

Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.

୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹

AUTHOR’s NOTE: YALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONE!! WELL THINK AGAIN!! I AM BACK!!! Sorry for the late update!! Man I’m so excited for season 2 of arcane ahahsheudidj

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[23victoria]

vibes

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cussing, unwanted touching, bestfriends to lovers

authors note: i listened to vibes by chase atlantic when i wrote this last night really quickly cause i’m so behind on requests. so i’m so sorry if it’s shit! not prof read so sorry for any mistakes, also wrote this on my laptop and not my phone so i think grammarly made auto corrections, sorry about that, any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

wanna be apart of my taglist?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

The night's buzz is almost overwhelming as you step into the club, the electric energy in the air matching the high spirits of everyone around you. Max had just secured yet another victory and the entire crew decided a night out was the perfect way to celebrate. You’ve known Max for years since you started working as a commentator and interviewer for F1. The two of you clicked instantly, forming a close friendship that grew stronger with time.

But despite the late nights spent together, the countless inside jokes, and the deep conversations shared after long race weekends, there’s always been something unspoken between you. You’ve watched Max go through a relationship, and break up, and now, for some time, he’s been single. It’s been even harder lately to ignore the feelings you’ve harbored for him, but fear of ruining your friendship keeps you silent.

The music pulses through the room, and laughter fills the air as you weave through the crowd with Max by your side. He’s in high spirits tonight, smiling and laughing with everyone, and you can’t help but feel a warmth spread through you seeing him like this. His happiness is contagious, and for a moment, you let go of your reservations and join in the fun.

The music pounds through the speakers, the bass reverberating in your chest as you dance with your friends, lost in the carefree atmosphere of the night. You’re trying to immerse yourself in the moment, to let loose and enjoy the celebration, but something keeps pulling you out of it. You can feel eyes on you, and it’s making your skin crawl. Every time you glance around, you see him—the guy who’s been hovering near you for most of the night, his gaze too intense, too invasive.

You try to shake it off, telling yourself to focus on having fun. After all, you’re here to celebrate Max’s victory, and you don’t want anything to spoil the night. But then, out of nowhere, you feel it—his hand on your waist. It’s like a bucket of cold water has been poured over you, the chill of his touch instantly snapping you out of the moment. You tense up, your body going rigid as alarm bells start ringing in your mind.

You immediately step away, trying to put some distance between you and him, but he’s persistent. He follows, his hand still on you, tightening his grip as he leans in closer. The smell of alcohol on his breath hits you, making you recoil.

“Please, stop touching me,” you say, your voice firm but polite, hoping he’ll get the message and back off. For a moment, it seems like he does—his hand drops from your waist, and he takes a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. You force a smile, relieved that it’s over, and try to get back into the groove of the music, but the unease lingers.

Five minutes pass, and you start to relax again, laughing with your friends as you dance, the earlier tension beginning to fade. But just as you’re starting to enjoy yourself again, you feel it—his hand, creeping back onto your waist. This time, it’s more insistent, more possessive, as he tries to slide it lower, fingers brushing dangerously close to the edge of your dress.

Your blood runs cold. Panic surges through you as you try to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of fear and anger bubbling up inside you.

Before you can react, a familiar presence looms over you, and suddenly, the guy is yanked away from you with a force that sends him stumbling back. Max is there, his usually calm and collected demeanor replaced with a fierce, protective anger. He grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close until their faces are just inches apart.

“What the fuck are you doing? Huh?! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Max’s voice is sharp, a dangerous edge to it that you rarely hear. His blue eyes blaze with fury as he stares the guy down, every inch of him radiating anger. “Didn’t she tell you to stop? So why the fuck are you touching my girl?! 

The words hang in the air, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. His girl. Max just called you his girl. The realization hits you like a freight train, but there’s no time to dwell on it as the bouncer arrives, having noticed the commotion. 

The guy stammers out a half-hearted apology, but Max isn’t having any of it. He pushes him away, standing protectively in front of you. The other drivers, who had been enjoying themselves a moment ago, are now watching intently, ready to back Max up if needed. But the bouncer is already there, having noticed the commotion.

“Get this piece of shit out of here,” Max orders, his voice leaving no room for argument. The bouncer doesn’t hesitate, grabbing the guy and dragging him towards the exit. You can’t help but feel a mix of relief and embarrassment as everyone’s eyes turn back to you. The adrenaline from the confrontation has left you shaken, and all you want to do is get out of there.

“I think…I think I’m going to head home,” you say, your voice a little shaky. The rest of the group immediately offers to leave as well, but you shake your head. “No, you guys stay. Have fun. I just need to get some rest.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Max says, his tone leaving no room for argument. You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to ruin his night, but he cuts you off. “Y/N, I’m taking you home. End of discussion.”

You know better than to argue when he’s in this mood, so you simply nod, letting him lead you out of the club. The car ride is silent, the tension thick between you. You keep replaying the events of the night in your head, trying to make sense of Max’s reaction. The way he called you “his girl�� to the guy has your mind spinning, but you don’t dare bring it up, unsure of what it means—or maybe too scared to hope.

When you finally reach your apartment, you hesitate before getting out of the car. “Do you…do you want to come up?” you ask, your voice almost timid. Max looks at you for a moment before nodding.

“Sure.”

Once inside, you head to your room to change into something more comfortable, grateful for a moment to gather your thoughts. Meanwhile, Max busies himself in the kitchen. When you return, you find him making a sandwich, a small, amused smile on his face when he notices you watching.

“I figured you might be hungry,” he says, sliding the plate towards you as you sit at the counter. The two of you eat in silence, the weight of everything that’s gone unsaid hanging in the air.

It’s you who finally breaks the silence. “Max…about tonight…”

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable. “What about it?”

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say what’s been on your mind since the moment he stepped in to protect you. “You called me ‘your girl’ back there. Why?”

Max’s eyes search yours, and for a moment, you see something in them—something deep, something vulnerable. He sets down his sandwich and leans across the counter, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Because…because that’s what you are to me,” he admits, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve always been my girl, Y/N. I just…I never had the guts to say it. I was afraid of messing things up between us, but seeing that guy…seeing him touch you, I just…I couldn’t stand it.”

His words leave you speechless, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy washing over you. You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long, but you never thought you actually would.

“Max…are you saying…?” you trail off, too afraid to finish the sentence, too scared to hope that this could actually be happening.

He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for a long time. I just…I didn’t want to lose you by telling you.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your heart racing in your chest. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face, and you squeeze his hand.**

“I love you too, Max,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve loved you for so long, but I was too scared to say anything. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Max lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his face breaking into a wide, relieved smile. “God, we’re such idiots,” he laughs, moving around the counter to pull you into his arms. “All this time, and we’ve both been too afraid to say anything.”

You laugh too, the sound filled with a mix of relief and happiness. “Yeah, we are,” you agree, resting your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “But at least we finally figured it out.”

Max pulls back slightly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. “And now that we have,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with emotion, “we have all the time in the world.”

You smile up at him, your heart swelling with love for this man who’s been your best friend for so long, and now, finally, something more. “Yeah, we do,” you agree softly before leaning up to press your lips to his.

The kiss is slow and tender at first, both of you savoring the moment that’s been a long time coming. But soon, it deepens, the pent-up emotions from years of unspoken feelings pouring out. Max’s hands cup your face as he kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, and you melt into him, feeling like you’re finally where you’re meant to be.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, and you can’t help but laugh again, the joy bubbling up inside you. “We really are idiots,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “How did it take us this long?”

Max chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours. “I don’t know,” he admits, “but I’m just glad we finally got here.”

You smile, leaning up to kiss him again, and this time, the kiss is filled with promise—a promise of a future together, of all the moments you’ll share now that the truth is out. And as you pull him closer, feeling his arms wrap around you, you know that this is just the beginning.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[enha-stars]

✧ thats enough, i think

pairing: enha!hyung line x fem!reader (mdni)

summary: you rarely act like a brat, but when you do, it always leads exactly where you want it too

warnings: brat tamer hyung line (YAS), jealousy, oral (f & m rec.), slight voyuerism, minor breath play (i think), unprotected sex, kissing

a/n: for my favourite, endearing brat @ak4e7a i hope i did this justice.

✧ heeseung;

“why the attitude, pretty? didn’t i fuck you hard enough earlier? or maybe you miss my mouth on you. is that it? need my tongue in you? wanna cum all over my face?”

the music is loud and the lights are dim, but not dim enough to hide the scene in front of you. you watch with hard eyes as the blonde gently trails her fingers across heeseung's arms.

he's not paying attention to her, probably doesn't even notice the way she's undressing him with her undeserving eyes, but you are. you stepped aside for a minute to grab some water and the blonde wasted no time.

you narrow your eyes when she gets bolder and places her hand on heeseung's forearm, turning her body fully towards him, ignoring jake's look of disdain. your eyes travel down her body before they drift to heeseung, waiting for him to push her hand off.

he doesn't.

he does, however, turn his head when he feels your stare on him. his lips lift into a smile when his eyes meet yours but you only scoff, rolling your eyes at him. his smile twists into a frown and his eyes sharpen.

instead of going back, since he seemed so interested in the conversation, you simply turn your head and walk towards jay and sunghoon.

you can feel his eyes on you but you ignore them, purposely standing closer to sunghoon than you normally would. if heeseung could let someone touch him, then you could too.

you talk to sunghoon and jay, laughing about something niki did when you feel it. his presence is overwhelming and you would know him by smell alone. so when heeseung walks to you, you know it's him before his chest presses into your back.

his hand is on your waist and he's holding a water bottle in his other hand as he smiles at his friends, seemingly calm as he joins the conversation. your back is rigid but you don't lean away from his touch.

"why didn't you come back to me, pretty?" heeseung whispers in your ear, his breath warm.

you scoff and turn your head, crossing your arms. "why would i want to interrupt your conversation with the handsy blonde?"

heeseung smiles in a way that isn't really a smile and gently grabs your chin, making you face him. "what are you talking about?"

you jerk your chin out of his hold and step away from him, missing his heat instantly. sunghoon and jay have stepped away from you both and now you and heeseung stand in the middle of the party, music and sweaty bodies surrounding you.

"since you were having so much fun with little miss blonde over there, you can go right back. i'll go find someone else who'll entertain me."

heeseung turns to face you, a smirk on his lips at the sight of your narrowed eyes and crossed arms. he liked you like this, all bratty and annoying. but he didn't like what you were implying. didn't you know that he belonged to you?

instead of answering you, he steps towards you and you instinctually dropped your arms, fingers pulsing. you wanted to grab his shoulders, wrap your arms around him, but you were still annoyed with him.

he smiles softly at you but you see the fire in his eyes, the only hint of his actual feelings. he gently grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. you don't have enough time to pull away before he's guiding you through the crowd, easily steering your body at will.

he pushes the washroom door open and pulls you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it within seconds. your pressed against the wall as he stares down at you, grinning at your flustered expression. he presses himself closer to you, bringing his hands on either side of your head as he leans down.

"why the attitude, pretty? jealous of that girl, is that it?" his breath tickles your cheek and he kisses it softly. "scoffing at me and rolling your eyes as if i didn't fuck you in the car."

your breathing heavily and you can't look away from his eyes. they're shiny and dark and so hot. his words make you shiver and you squeeze your thighs together.

his smile turns menacing as he sinks to his knees, his hands sliding down the wall. he keeps his face close to your body, nose and chin hovering against your skin.

with his face hovering near your heat, you naturally spread your legs and he grins at you. "wonder if i can still taste my cum on your pussy," he whispers.

he doesn't even lift your skirt as he presses his nose against your cunt, breathing in deeply. you whimper and arch your back, hand immediately grabbing his hair.

"still smells like me," he says before he hooks his finger under your panties and pulls them down. he doesn't even warm you when he licks at you harshly, eyes on your face.

you pull at his hair as your knees buckle. "hee, oh my gosh."

"where's that attitude, pretty girl? still wanna find someone else?"

you shake your head and he presses a soft kiss to your clit. "cum on my face to show that blonde and everyone else who i belong to."

he wastes no time as he uses his fingers to spread your folds only to shove his tongue deep within you. he's sucking and licking and you can't breathe.

his fingers rub your bud as his tongue assaults your clit, pushing in and out of you as he laps up all your juices.

just as you're about to reach your limit, he moves his head back and his tongue messily slips out of you, string of saliva and slick shining under the bathroom light.

you whine and stare down at him with watery eyes. he just smiles at you and kisses your inner thigh.

"next time you act like a brat, i'll fuck you in front of everyone and won't let you cum even once."

✧ jay;

“you know i adore you, angel, but when you don’t listen to me… it makes me want to shove my cock down your throat. can’t be bratty when you can’t really breathe, can you?”

familiar dialogue fills the room as the quiet sounds of chewing can be heard from around you. you're pressed against jay's side with his arm hugging you close. your calves rest in jake's lap and he uses them as a stand for his popcorn.

you stare at the tv screen with little interest. it was sunghoon's turn for movie night and of course, he chose a superhero movie. one you all had seen many times.

jay had smiled at your exasperated smile and softly kissed your head when you simply just held your tongue and snuggled with him.

trying to stimulate your brain, you glanced at the other sofa and smiled at the sight of sunghoon's head in heeseung's lap. he would never beat the soft allegations and you made a mental note to tease him about it later.

you sighed deeply and jay's gaze flickered down, smiling softly at your wandering eyes. he just watched you as you looked at different things, eyes briefly trailing back to the movie every few seconds.

he rubbed your arm and you smiled, looking up at him. he tilted his head down and bumped his nose against yours before giving the tv his attention. you internally sighed, finding it amazing that all four of them could rewatch the same movie hundreds of times.

you tried to pay attention to the action happening on screen but it wasn't new, and therefore, was incredibly boring. you tightened your hold on jay's lower abdomen and he shifted slightly when you slipped your thumb under his shirt.

at his movement, you smiled as realization set in. you slowly rubbed circles into his skin, testing the waters. when he said nothing, you let your hand trail lower until your fingers brushed the bulge under his sweats, glad you weren't sharing a blanket with jake.

he squeezed your arm once in warning but you simply rested your hand on his bulge, pressing down. jay bit his bottom lip to muffle the hiss that almost escaped him.

he looked down at you sharply but your eyes were on the movie. his hand trails up your arm until its in your hair and he lightly pulls up, forcing you to look at him. at the pain, you almost grin.

"quit it," he mumbles, eyes ablaze.

you ignore his words and do nothing for a few minutes. thinking better of you, jay releases your hair and rests his hand back on your arm.

simply having your hand on his cock with all his friends around is making your head spin and suddenly, you need to do something. after a few more minutes, you begin rubbing your hand back and forth over his sweats, smiling when he hardens under you instantly.

he flexes his thighs and his grip on your arm tightens as he grits his teeth together. he can't do anything or say anything because jake is right there and if he moves, he's afraid the blanket will slip off. he tilts his head down until his lips are touching your ears. "stop it," he grits out.

you don't stop.

with his free hand, he grabs your wrist under the blanket and brings it to his chest, keeping it there. his grip is tight but not enough to hurt you. you lift the arm that was between his lower back and sofa and slip it under his shirt, nails slightly scratching the skin.

knowing he couldn't do anything, he simply lets you touch his back. when your hand slips below the waist of his sweatpants and closer to his ass, he clenches his teeth together so hard they might crack.

thankfully, the film finishes and jake, sunghoon, and heeseung leave after they pick up all the trash. neither you or jay move as per tradition, since the rule is that they clean up if you provide the snacks.

once they door clicks shut, jay throws the blanket off you both and shifts his body upwards as he pushes your shoulders down. now, your head is against the arm rest as the rest of your body is on the couch. one of his legs is on the floor and the other is fitted between your body and the sofa.

he stares down at your with hard eyes and a clenched jaw. you're grinning up at him and he scoffs. you're in between his legs and you seem incredibly pleased about it. he doesn't waste a second before he cups your jaw and leans closer.

"you know i adore you, angel." he waits for you to nod. "but when you don't listen to me... it makes me crazy."

you have the audacity to pretend to frown. "sorry, baby. but the movie was so boring and i couldn't help myself."

jay kisses his teeth as he pulls the waistband of his sweats and boxers down. he watches you as you stare at his cock, a look of need in your eyes. "you think that means you can't listen to me?"

you try to answer but he thrusts his cock into your mouth. it hits the back of your throat and you gag, eyes immediately watering. he's so big and tastes so good.

"i don't wanna hear anything from you," he mutters as he rocks his hips back and forth harshly. "such a brat."

you open your mouth further and use your tongue, trying your best to fit him. your eyes are blown wide and jay can't help but roll his eyes at your sounds and drool.

"look at you," he cooes. "you can brealy breathe, angel."

you don't really hear him, too busy having your mouth fucked. you can taste his precum and it's enticing. you open your eyes and catch jay's harsh gaze. his tip hits the back of your throat and you can't really breathe.

"good," he says, smiling. "can't be a brat when you can't breathe, can you?"

✧ jake;

“if you wanted my attention so bad, baby, you could have just asked. you know i’d give you anything. what do you want? to be fucked silly?”

the lights in the living room are dim as some old episode plays on the tv, forgotten and boring. you sigh to yourself as you stare at the ceiling, blinking when a commercial interrupts the pleasant background noise.

you turn your head and eye the bedroom door when you hear jake's loud laughter. a smile naturally lifts onto your lips but it's quickly replaced by a frown.

jake had promised you that he would only game for a bit, but it had been two hours and you were annoyed. you wanted him to play with his friends but you were growing tired. you finally had some time to spend with him tonight and he chose to game the night away.

you turn to face the tv and try to pay attention to the plot and characters but all you want is your boyfriend. suddenly feeling chilly, you pushed yourself off the couch and trudged to the bedroom to grab a blanket.

you quietly push open the bedroom door and your eyes immediately land on jake's hunched figure, the blue light washing over him prettily as his fingers move rapidly against the keyboard.

jake sees your figure in the reflection of his screen and turns his head, smiling widely at you before turning back to the monitor. "hi, baby."

you don't respond to him and walk to your bed, grabbing your blanket. at your lack of response, jake mutes his mic and turns his head again, frowning. "what's wrong, baby?"

you shake your head. "nothing," you mutter. you almost throw him a pointed look but decide against it.

"come sit with me, baby. you know you're my good luck charm."

you scoff and jake raises an eyebrow, surprised at your attitude. "i don't want to sit with you. be your own good luck charm."

at your words, jake's eyes widen and his frown deepens. "excuse me?"

you stare at him with narrowed eyes and grip your blanket tighter. "you heard me. play your stupid games all night, i don't care."

you really did care, but you were annoyed and his friends were screaming at him through his headphones. you don't wait for a response and throw the bedroom door open, slamming it shut to prove a point.

you're not sure what point you're trying to prove, but it feels good.

you throw the blanket on the couch and make your way to the kitchen, suddenly hungry.

jake stares at the door with a dumbfounded expression, not quite believing that you had both rejected him and slammed the door shut. slowly, he turns back around but your words are replaying in his mind and he can't stop hearing your scoff.

he unmutes his mic and teels heeseung that he's not playing anymore, leaving the game before anyone could say otherwise. he throws his headphones to the side and pulls open the bedroom door.

he steps out of the bedroom, expecting you to be on the couch but you're in the kitchen. your back is to him and he just stares at you for a while, the sight of you in only panties and his hoodie is enough to have his mind reeling.

"baby," he calls out. your back stiffens and you stop cutting the apple. "wanna watch a movie?"

he's testing the waters, trying to understand your behaviour. he has a feeling he knows, but it never hurts to check.

"no," you respond, without turning. "i'm good. go back to gaming." you do want watch a movie with him, hell, you just want him. but you refuse to give in instantly. he made you wait, so he should too.

jake grins widely before shaking his head at you, slowly walking towards the kitchen. you can hear him getting closer but you don't move, focusing on the fruit salad you had started.

jake wraps his arms around your waist and presses his chest to your back, smiling when you stiffen. you don't move for a few second before you go back to cutting, putting in all your effort in ignoring him.

"watch a movie with me."

"no," you murmur. jake kisses the back of your neck and you shiver, his breath warm.

"you trying to ignore me?"

you say nothing and he laughs softly against your neck, pressing his hips into yours until his clothed dick lines up with your ass. he rotates his hips softly and you drop the knife.

"if you wanted my attention so bad, baby, you could have just asked." he presses further into you and you whimper, gripping the counter. "instead, you deny me and slam the door in my face."

his lips are hovering your neck and he whispers the words against your skin, making your entire body go hot. he grinds against you a bit more before he kisses your shoulder.

"i guess i should pay more attention to my little baby." he takes his cock out of his shorts and pulls your panties to the side, thrusting into you without warning.

you moan at the feeling, head falling back as your grip on the counter tightens. he pushes himself deep within you before pulling out completely. you mewl at the emptiness but then he grips your waist and slides back in, pushing you into the counter.

"fuck, baby, so tight."

he fucks you harshly, grip on your waist tight as you moan and whimper. he sucks on your neck as his balls slap your ass. your pussy clenches around him and your eyes water.

"jake," you say, breathless.

your orgasm is close and you push your ass against him, trying to reach your high when suddenly, jake stops moving. you cry out, the build up slowly dissipating. your eyes are watery and you're mumbling incoherent things.

jay kisses your shoulder as he grips your hips, stopping you from trying to reach your high.

"weren't you trying to ignore me, baby?" he smiles wickedly when you whine his name. "rude little brats don't get to cum, baby."

✧ sunghoon;

“you’re really pretty, bunny. but you’re even prettier when you’re being fucked. that’s it, lay back for me. this is all you wanted, isn’t it? some cock to keep you calm.”

soft music plays from your laptop as you stare hard at your phone, a frown on your lips. you stare at sunghoon's contact picture, hoping it would magically entice a response from him.

you sent your texts almost twenty minutes ago and there was still no response. annoyed, you toss your phone to the other side of the bed. you stare at the teddy bear that sits beside you on the bed, huffing.

you're not sure what it was, but you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. not literally, since sunghoon's grip on your waist was strong, but metaphorically.

you woke up in a bad mood which only worsened when sunghoon, instead of showering you in attention and love, decided to head over to jay's place for lunch.

your behaviour in the morning pissed him off and he fucked it out of you, but it was back and he wasn't here. he had hoped that fucking his cum into you before he left would be enough to keep you pleased but it hadn't.

so, you sent him a few nudes and risky texts to entice him. despite his angry texts telling you to 'behave' and 'fucking stop,' you couldn't help yourself.

the last text you sent had been an impulse decision. you knew that texting him 'since you're not here, i'll just touch myself' wouldn't necessarily sit with him well, but if you were going to be a brat, you might as well do it right.

you obviously don't touch yourself, knowing that your own hands had become useless. you needed him, and until you had him, you wouldn't be pleased.

you reach for your phone and begin scrolling, ignoring the chill. you had worn his favourite white lingerie set simply for the fun of it, but it didn't do much to hide you from the cold.

you're so invested in scrolling that you don't hear the apartment door open. you don't hear the deep breathing or the heavy footsteps. when your bedroom door clicks open, you glance up before looking back at your phone, only to look back at the door with wide eyes.

sunghoon stands in the doorway, breathing lowly. he's staring at you with such sharp eyes, gaze trailing the length of your body like a predator sizing up a prey.

you drop your phone and stare at him, eyes wide as he steals all the air in the room. you look like a deer caught between between a lion and a hard place, and it makes you shiver.

"hoon," you whisper. "what are you doing here?"

sunghoon smiles and it makes you squeeze your thighs together. it's dangerous, the way it curves up and reveals his fangs. his eyes are wild and his hair even more so.

slowly, he walks towards the bed and begins unbuttoning his shirt. he has yet to say anything and you can already feel your voice disappearing.

"you think you can act like a fucking brat and i won't come fuck it out of you?"

his voice is deep and it makes you want to cry. he's angry, you realize. angry, and slightly pissed off, but incredibly turned on.

trying to do some damage control, you shake your head, eyes on his pretty hands as he undoes the last few buttons of his shirt. "i'm sorry," you try. "i just missed you."

instead of responding, he shrugs off his shirt and tosses it. you eye his chest and neck and your cheeks heat up at the marks you had left behind not even two hours ago.

sunghoon says nothing as he stands at the edge of the bed and grabs your ankles, easily pulling you towards him. you squeal and grab the bedsheets, eyes wide.

he's looking down at you with purely dark eyes but then he smiles. "do you know how badly i wanted to shove my cock down your throat when you sent me all those texts?" he begins to unbutton his pants as he fits himself between your legs.

"i'm sorry."

"don't care," he grins devilishly. "you need to be taught a fucking lesson."

he pulls his pants and boxers down and steps out of them, taking his time. you can't stop staring at his hard cock as it slaps his stomach, leaking all prettily over your legs.

he doesn't say anything when he lifts your hips off the bed and pushes his cock into you, hissing as your pussy sucks him in.

you moan out his name when his thrusts quicken, slamming into you at an unforgiving pace. your blabbering and breathing heavily and he grins down at you, but there's nothing soft in it.

"you're really pretty, bunny," he says, "wearing my favourite set." his grip on your hips tighten and he leans down a bit. "but you're even prettier like this."

still fucking into you, he sets your hips back on the mattress and pushes you further on the bed, crawling between your legs.

he leans down and places a hand on either side of your head, kissing your cheek. "this is what my dumb little bunny needed, isn't it? my cock to keep you calm?"

you can't answer him, too obsessed with the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix. sunghoon smirks at the fucked out look in your eyes, his anger and frustration slowly lessening and igniting.

he feels your pussy clench around him and he waits until the last second, until your crying and legs are shaking to pull out. you wail at the loss and cling to his shoulders, a bubbling mess.

"hoon, hoon, please." you beg, tears spilling down your cheeks.

he presses a soft kiss to your lips and bites your bottom lip. "only a good bunny gets to cum. and you," he smiles, "haven't been good."

taglist: @karinasbaby @pprodsuga @jaeyunluvr @moon7jay @lheebra

[frudoo]

I beg for more slasher 141 pleeeease 🫶🫶🫶🫶

Part 2 to this <3

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE, hopefully that's obvious. Gore, slight torture, infidelity (not by 141). Fem!Reader.

     “Thank you for staying with me,” you hum, leaning up from where you sit on the bathroom counter to plant a kiss on his stubbled jaw.

“You know you don’t have to thank me, sweet girl.”

     John finishes wiping off the last of your face mask, grabbing your moisturizer and gently rubbing it in with his fingertips. Wiping his hands off on a towel, he bends down to press a kiss to the luscious layer of fat beneath your chin. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, allowing him to lift you by your ass and carry you back to his bedroom. Yours is far too lonely right now, and frankly, John likes having you all to himself from time to time. 

     He lays you down on his cozy bed, making sure you’re all warm and comfortable beneath the covers before he strips himself of his clothes. You smile at the sight of his body, muscular and strong but with some fat on his gut. Tufts of dark hair make themselves known all over his torso and teasing a delicious crescendo down his tummy, the peak of which concealed by his boxers. John climbs into the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms and coaxing your head to rest on his cushy chest. 

     “John?” You ask softly.

     He hums, tilting his chin down to see you better. You bite your lip, about to tell him to forget about it, but he senses your unease. 

     “What is it, darlin’?” John sits up and rests his back against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap so he can look into your eyes. 

     “I-it’s nothing. Just… earlier, when I was in the bath, you said… you said I’d get a turn on that guy soon enough. What did you mean by that?” You fiddle with your hands nervously. 

     “What’s it sound like, sweet girl? The boys are bringin’ him back, figured you might wanna join in on the fun,” John explains, big hands kneading the plush of your waist. “That somethin’ you wanna do?”

     Your breath hitches in your throat. You know what they do, of course, but you’ve never actually been involved in a kill. They’ve never even exercised the idea of having you help until now. It’s overwhelming.

     “I-I don’t… I-” You stutter, your chest starting to heave with anxiety.

     “Shh, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to if you don’t think you can handle it,” he coos, baby blues softening as they stare you down. 

     “I- can I just… talk to him? Before you do anything?” You ask quietly, resting your trembling hands on his shoulders.

     “Yeah, darlin’. Whatever you want,” he whispers, cusping the back of your head and pulling you down for a tender kiss. “Let’s get some sleep, hm? We can talk more about it in the mornin’. Sound good?”

     You nod at the same time he readjusts back into the previous position, his back to the mattress, your head on his chest, legs all tangled up. Sleep comes easy despite all the chaos you’ve been through today, snuggled up with one of your protectors. 

     Typically, you’re woken up with a pair of lips trailing kisses down your neck, or the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Today, however, it’s the pained screams of a man being dragged around outside that startles you awake. John’s not in bed when you open your eyes, and it makes your heart drop. This is all too real. Your men are expecting you, one way or another. 

     Nervous hands pull one of John’s sweatshirt’s over your trembling body, followed by a clean pair of his boxers. It’s hardly appropriate clothing considering what you’re about to involve yourself with, but it smells like him and you could use some comfort right now. Not even bothering to put shoes on, you carefully step down the stairs and walk outside, eyes frantically searching for the source of the pathetic sobs.

     When you find it, the sight causes bile to rise in your throat. Simon’s holding the man up by his armpits, and there’s a burlap sack covering his head. His knees are broken, calves protruding forward where they should bend back, and upon further inspection, you discover that most of his fingernails have been ripped off. Tears flood your eyes when you finally find your voice, a whimper escaping your throat. It alerts Kyle whose head instantly turns in your direction. He beckons you over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

     “This is him,” he whispers, kissing your temple soothingly. 

     “How are you so sure?” Your bottom lip wobbles as you look up at him, eyes wide with fear and remorse though you’ve done nothing wrong.

     “Checked your dashcam, dove,” Kyle explains, massaging the shoulder his hand rests on. “Looked him up online. Real clean-cut fella.”

     “Sick fuck has a wife, three kids,” Simon joins in with a sneer. “Guess where we found him?”

     “A fookin’ motel,” Johnny answers before you get the chance. “Shaggin’ a prostitute. Paid ‘er a fair sum fer ‘er silence. Nae cop would listen tae ‘er anywey.”

     John is the last to arrive, tool belt full of sharp weapons jangling with every step he takes. He calls your name but you can’t tear your eyes away from the living ragdoll. The bile has settled itself back into your stomach, and in place of your uncertainty is a gnashing anger begging you to do something about it. In the back of your mind you know you can’t do any true harm to him, but you’re going to do something.

     You gently pull free from Kyle’s hold, stalking toward the weeping man. There’s no tremble in your hands when you pull the burlap sack off of his head, letting it fall to the dewy ground. It’s definitely the man who harassed you, there’s no doubt about it—from the dirty blonde hair adorning his head to the ugly scar that runs across his cheek. He opens his eyes to look around, and when they land on you, he lets out his most pathetic wail yet.

     “No! F-fuck, is that- are you- fuckin’ bitch! You… you fuckin’-” He sputters, and that familiar voice makes your head pound.

     “Does your wife know you’re a pervert?” You ask calmly. “How about your kids, hm? Do they know Daddy likes to go around touching women who aren’t Mommy?”

     “Y-you don’t know wh-what you’re talkin’ about,” he defends, hot tears falling down his flushed face.

     “Don’t worry, they’ll never know what a sorry excuse of a man you were. Do you think they’ll mourn your absence when you’re reported missing, or are they so used to it that it’ll be a weight off their shoulders?”

     “Fuck you!” The man shouts the best he can through a raw throat, and you laugh, leaning in closer to whisper into his ear. 

     “Not a chance.”

     As you turn to walk away, you pretend not to hear his screams as your men drag him into the barn, nor the sounds of Johnny’s chainsaw roaring shortly after.

[zebuie]

SACCHARINE

[𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒]; dealer!ellie x fem!reader

ㅤ→ READ THIS. ⨳ DAILY CLICK

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒:; your friend insists you join her in a party, and you go along not expecting much but little do u know….

[𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒]; thank u SMM for 100 <3, not proofread, 3k words woops, reader is sick 🤧 (I relate.), swearing, pet names, degrading, strap sucking (e receiving), strap sex (r receiving), eating out (e & r receiving), fingering (e receiving), cum eating (e & r receiving), Ellie calls the strap her dick/cock, aftercare.

Dina was standing over you as you lay in bed, covered in used tissues. "Come onnnnn—You need to go to the party tonight. It's going to be so much fun, and you love parties! Plus, it's been days since you've gotten out of bed, and like I'm kinda worried about you y'know."

you looked at her, nose running and eyes watery. "But I'm so sick," u groaned.

Dina persisted, "Pleeeaaase? It's going to be a blast, nd you never know what could happen. You might even meet someone new or just have a great time! n' don't worry, I'll make sure you have the best time ever. Just say yes."

You sighed and thought for a moment. Despite your illness, you secretly wanted to go to the party. "Fine fuck, okay. I'll go," you mumbled weakly.

Dina's face lit up with excitement. "Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you! " she squealed happily. "I know you won't regret it. Let's get you all dolled up now cmon,"

You groaned inwardly, knowing that getting ready would be a challenge in your current condition. However, deep down, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, this party could be the distraction you needed to lift your spirits.

Dina started gathering your clothes and makeup, while you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed and wobbled to the bathroom to get ready. Despite feeling like death, you made an effort to look somewhat presentable.

As you stood in front of the mirror, applying makeup half-heartedly, Dina came in with your  party attire - a shimmering dress and sleek heels. And She helped you put them on.

Once you were finally ready to go, Dina practically dragged you out the door. The party was just a short walk away, and the sound of music and chatter grew louder with each step. The night air felt cool against your flushed skin, making you shiver slightly.

As you stepped inside the party venue, the vibrant energy hit you like a wave. Colorful lights flickered and danced, and people milled about, chatting and laughing. The music pulsed through the air, the bass making your heart thrum in your chest.

Dina suddenly leaned over to you and whispered, "hey, I'm gonna go get some weed, wanna come with?" You shrugged and nodded, secretly relieved for a chance to get away from the overwhelming party energy. 

As you both made your way to her dealer—Ellie, Dina introduced you. "Ellie heyyy, this is my friend-" and before she could even finish her sentence: "No no I know who she is." She responded quickly. "Hi." You said awkwardly. Ellie smiled at you and then turned back to Dina. "Soooo what's up.." Ellie asked Dina.

 "We need some weed. Hook us up, please?" Ellie gave you a friendly smile and when you smiled back at her she choked on her spit."uh yeah yeah sure—Let's get you sorted." She said avoiding eye contact with you.

Dina and you followed her to a secluded corner near a makeshift bar, where Ellie discreetly pulled out a small bag of weed from her pocket. "Here you go," she said, handing it to Dina with a casual wave. You noticed her stealing glances at you as she spoke, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction.

As Dina paid for the weed and left to get some drinks, you mustered up the courage to strike a conversation with Ellie. "So, you're the infamous weed dealer around here, hm?" you said playfully. Ellie chuckled and looked at you, a hint of shyness in her eyes.

"Guilty as charged." She replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Dina returned with the drinks and the three of you find solace on a cozy patio behind the bustling party. Ellie takes out a joint and lights it up with expert ease. The smoke swirls around you, filling the air with a musky yet sweet fragrance. As if by unspoken agreement, Ellie offers the joint to you first. You accept it gracefully, taking in the rich scent before taking a small drag and passing it to Dina.

As you pass around the joint, each of you taking turns to inhale and exhale, the tension between you and Ellie seems to ease. The weed adds a hazy yet enjoyable layer to the conversation, making even the simplest topics feel profound.

Ellie takes a hit and turns to you in between coughs, a cheeky grin playing on her lips. "So, what brings you to a party when you're sick, anyway?"

You chuckle, the weed making the memory of your illness feel distant and forgettable. "Dina dragged me here, actually. Said I should get out of my self-imposed exile." You glance at Dina, who nods enthusiastically, a grin plastered on her face.

Ellie takes another puff, her eyes gleaming with laughter. "Well, I for one am glad she did. I mean, look at us enjoying ourselves, weed and all."

The conversation flows effortlessly as you and Ellie exchange stories, each topic leading to another in a chain of stoner introspection.

As the joint makes its way round again, you and Ellie start to lose track of time. The weed has its full effects on you now, turning everything into a fuzzy, comfortable haze. Laughing and sharing stories, the conversation flows like a never-ending river. You notice Dina nodding off beside you, her eyes heavy with intoxication.

Suddenly, Ellie's fingers brushed against yours, sending tingles through your whole body. You look at her and share a smile. Maybe this party wasn't such a bad idea afterall.

"Hey, you alright?" Ellie asks as she notices your glazed eyes and slow speech. "You look absolutely baked."

You manage a lazy smile and a nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just feeling really damn relaxed. This weed is strong."

Ellie chuckles. "Well, it's not called weed because it makes you feel uptight."

You giggle, feeling a sudden wave of affection for her. It's as if the weed has lowered all your inhibitions, leaving only the raw, genuine emotions.

Dina stands up and stumbles a little, the mix of drinks and weed making her dizzy. "I think I'm gonna head home," she says, her words slightly slurred. "This weed has me feeling a bit too high."

You nod, understanding. "Be careful on your way home, alright?"

Dina waves a weak goodbye as she leaves to get an Uber. Now it's just you and Ellie, alone in the hazy aftermath of the joint.

You watch as Dina disappears into the night, then turn your attention back to Ellie. As if reading your mind, she suggests, "Wanna head back inside?"

You agree, and the two of you make your way back inside the party. The music is loud and throbbing, and the lights have turned into a dizzying, colorful display. You find a cozy couch and settle down, the weed still clinging to your senses.

You lean back into the cushions, enjoying the soft feel of the fabric against your skin. The buzz of the party fades into the background as you focus your attention on Ellie next to you. The world seems to slow down, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you there, trapped in a private bubble.

"So," Ellie says, breaking the silence, "how long did it take Dina to convince you to actually come out tonight?"

You laugh softly, the memory floating to the forefront of your mind. "Oh, she started pleading about a week ago. She's been on my case for days, saying I've been living like a hermit."

Ellie grins, chuckling softly. "Yeah, sounds like Dina. She really doesn't want you to become a recluse." She pauses, seeming to choose her words carefully. "You know, I'm glad she did manage to drag you out tonight. Otherwise, I might not have gotten the chance to meet you."

For a brief moment, silence blankets the air between you. The world outside of the couch fades into insignificance. All you can focus on is Ellie, her eyes locked with yours. 

You can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

And then, without a word, you lean in, your lips meeting hers in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

You pull away from Ellie, your heart racing as you gaze into her oh so beautiful eyes. 

A soft smile lingers on her lips as she breaks the silence. "We should probably head somewhere more private." She gestures towards a dimly lit corridor that leads to various rooms beyond the party hubbub.

Without a second thought, you nod enthusiastically, taking her hand and leading her towards the door closest to them. Inside, shadows envelope every corner with only moonlight seeping through the barely-there curtains casting eerie patterns on the walls. The cool air in here contrasts nicely with the warmth of Ellie's body pressed against yours; making everything feel intensely personal and intimate. 

Her scent fills your senses while you deepen their kisses; tangled hands carding softly through each other's hair. 

As you continue to kiss passionately, your hands start to wander; undoing each other's buttons and zips with eager fingers. Soon enough, clothes are discarded in a messy pile on the floor as you stand there—your bodies exposed and vulnerable before one another. 

Your eyes never leave each other's as Ellie reaches behind her back, unfastening the clasp of her belt. A soft chuckle escapes her lips when she sees the surprise etched across your face at what she reveals next: a strap on harness tucked under her pants all along.

Ellie grins, stepping closer and running her fingertips along the curves of your hips. "Wanted to catch you off guard." She teases gently. 

With a sudden movement, she slips out of her harness; revealing a thick dildo nestled between her legs. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she beckons you forward with an inviting finger. 

Ellie runs her fingers through your hair, pressing down on your head just enough to guide you closer until your lips brush against the silky surface of her dick. "Get down," she murmurs huskily, her breath hot against your cheek. You obey without hesitation, leaning forward eagerly; closing your eyes as you take the dildo into your mouth. She moans softly at the sight and feeling of it; running her hands through your hair while slowly rocking her hips—pushing herself deeper into your waiting throat.

Your tongue swirls around the head of her dildo, teasing and flicking it with a tantalizing rhythm. Ellie's moans grow louder, becoming more urgent as you take pleasure in exploring every inch of her toy; making it glisten with your saliva. 

She begins to move faster, thrusting harder against your mouth—her hands tightening their grip on your hair. You can feel the tension building within her, each deep push bringing them closer to release.

As Ellie begins to move in time with your movements, the strap of her harness rubs against her sensitive clit with each thrust. 

The sensation sends a wave of pleasure coursing through her body; pushing her closer and closer towards climax. 

Her breath hitches in your ear as she whispers, "Suck harder." You comply without hesitation, increasing the suction and using your tongue to tease every inch of the silky shaft before you. 

Your actions have an immediate effect on Ellie; moans growing louder and more urgent as she nears release. With one final surge forward, she shudders violently—her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave while you continue to suck eagerly; savoring every drop of her sweet essence that seeps from between your lips.

Once Ellie's climax subsides, she gently pulls you away from her cock; guiding you to your feet. Her eyes glow with desire as she moves towards the headboard of the bed, sitting down and positioning herself for what comes next. "Get on top," she commands in a sultry voice that sets your pulse racing. You obey eagerly, straddling her lap; feeling the cool air against your wet folds before slowly lowering yourself onto her waiting dick. The sensation is intense but pleasurable—your body adjusting to accommodate its thickness and length within you.

Ellie's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you adjust to the size of her strap-on. Her voice is low and rough with desire when she speaks, "you love this u dirty slut..being filled by my dick hm? don't you?" She pumps gently into you—each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moan softly in response; lost in a haze of lustful submission. "Say it," she commands again, her tone more insistent now. 

"Tell me how much you want this cock."You gasp for breath as words tumble from your lips, fueled by the intense sensations coursing through every inch of your body. 

"I need this... I want your dick so-so bad.." Your voice is barely above a whisper; full of longing and degradation that only heightens their passion even further.

Ellie growls deep in her throat; loving the sound of your surrender. 

She begins to pick up speed, pounding into you harder with every thrust. Her hand snakes between your legs—playing with your clit while she ravages you.  "such a whore," she breathes out, her eyes locked on yours as he drives deeper into you.

 "A dirty cum-slut who needs my cock hm isn't that right?.. " The taboo words fuel the fire within both of you; making it impossible to hold back any longer.

Your body shudders as pleasure rushes through you; waves of bliss crashing over you like a tsunami. Ellie feels your muscles clamping down tightly around her dick, knowing that it's only a matter of seconds before she pushes you over the edge. She groans loudly—her own release close at hand as she continues to pound into your wet core.

"Cum for me," Ellie demands, her voice thick with desire. "Let me see you come on my cock." The words are like a match to gasoline—your body exploding in ecstasy as you shatter into pieces; waves of pleasure washing over you in an unstoppable tide. 

You scream out her name, your muscles clenching tightly around her strap-on as she pushes you further and further towards the brink of blissful oblivion.In the aftermath of your orgasm, Ellie slowly pulls out of you; leaving a trail of slickness behind as she stands up from the bed. 

She reaches down to help steady yourself before drawing you close into a tender embrace.

As you catch your breath in Ellie's arms, she gently pushes you away; guiding you down between her thighs. You eagerly bury your face against her wet folds, savoring the sweet taste of her arousal as you settle in for what comes next. 

Your fingers slip inside her while your tongue begins to dance around her clit—your actions making Ellie moan loudly and clutch at the sheets. "More," she whispers hoarsely—her body begging for relief from the intense sensations that are building deep within.

You lose yourself in the sensation of Ellie's heat and sweetness around your fingers, her flavors intensifying with each passing moment. Her breath hitches as she edges closer to release—your tongue tracing circles around her swollen clit while you pump your fingers inside her. It's not long before she lets out a loud moan, her body shaking with pleasure as she comes undone on your face.

You lose yourself in Ellie's warmth and flavor as you feast on her sweet pussy. One hand gripping her ass for better leverage, the other buried deep inside her wet folds. Her body trembles beneath you, nearing a climax that's been simmering just beneath the surface. She whimpers loudly, her legs wrapping around your head; holding you tight against her core.

You keep going at it, licking and fingering her like a woman possessed. Her moans get louder, and she's grinding against your face pretty hard now. You can feel her getting close, and you don't want to stop until she screams your name in pleasure. Your fingers move faster inside her while your tongue does its dance on her clit; making sure she feels every inch of attention you're giving her sweet pussy.

It doesn't take much longer now. Ellie's breathing turns erratic, and her body stiffens as waves of pleasure crash over her. You feel her pussy clamping down around your fingers, and she screams your name; flooding your mouth with her cum while you lap it up hungrily.

As Ellie comes down from her orgasm, she pulls you away gently; your mouth filled with her essence. She kisses you deeply—her fingers entwined with yours as she tastes herself on your lips. "God, that was amazing," she murmurs against your skin before running a tender caress down your cheek.

Ellie slowly sinks down between your thighs—her fingers running lightly along your swollen lips before dipping inside to clean you up. You shiver at her touch; lost in the pleasure of her soft tongue tracing every curve, gathering remnants of your cum and spreading them around for her to suck on. It doesn't take long before you're completely clean and she pulls away from you, a satisfied smile gracing her lips.

You cling to the sheets as she continues her tender torment, moaning loudly with each flick of her tongue against your sensitive bud. Her fingers intertwine with yours; pulling you closer until it's impossible to hold back any longer.

Ellie finally draws back; her lips swollen and wet from your taste. She kisses you softly, one hand trailing up to stroke your hair lovingly before she reaches over for a damp cloth. She gently cleans the remaining traces of cum from between your legs—her touch tender yet thorough.

Once you're clean, she presses a kiss to your inner thigh—her hands running soothingly over your body as she gazes up at you adoringly. "So beautiful," she murmurs softly before pulling you close for another embrace. Her soft lips brush against yours in a gentle caress that leaves you breathless; savoring the sweetness of her smile as happiness fills the air around you.

im so bad at endings ahahsjsj buttttt i hope u guys enjoy thissss 😁😁😆😆

[rafeandonlyrafe]

when in rome

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, female receiving oral, mentions of a blowjob, plane sex, mile high club woohoo!, cheating, not a happy ending!, angst

“hello.” you smile at the handsome man as the flight attendant guides him to his seat, and you’re glad its next to yours.

“hey.” he smiles right back and you swear you fall in love at that moment. “i’m rafe.”

“y/n.” you can feel your face flush, and you pray that its a cute blush rather than a full red face.

“nice to meet you.” he adjusts how he's sitting. you figure that due to his height it must be uncomfortable to fly, even if he is flying business class. “gonna get to know each other real well, huh?”

“yeah, seems like it.” you giggle. you find yourself going from dreading the 8 hour nonstop flight to looking forward to it as you fall into easy conversation with rafe.

“so, what are your plans in italy?” he asks you.

“ah, vacation mostly. i have some distant family i’m going to visit but its really just a fun trip for me. what about yourself?” “business.” rafe sighs. you should have been able to guess by his outfit, everything about him reads business man, even though he’s clearly on the younger side, you guess not much older than yourself.

“you’ll get some time to see a bit of the sights at least, right?” you ask hopefully.

“i will definitely find time if you’re the one showing them to me.” rafe smirks at you, making the flirtation clear, giving you the go ahead to bat your eyelashes right back at him.

--

“this-” you gasp. “this isn’t what i had in mind when you said show you the sights. thought you meant like the trevi fountain or-” your mind is completely blank of other attractions to see in rome, despite that being your whole reason for visiting. you’re far too overwhelmed with rafe between your thighs.

“mmm, this sight is all i wanna see.” he leans forward to press a kiss to your clit before darting his tongue out and flicking over it, movements still teasingly light like they have been for the past ten minutes.

“feels so good.” you moan. even with keeping his movements so gentle, its still evident rafe has a talented mouth.

he finally leans in fully, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks the sensitive flesh into his mouth. your hands reach for his hair, grabbing onto the dirty blond strands. 

you try to keep your moans quiet as rafe eats you out, you really do, for the sake of the people staying in the hotel rooms next to yours, but you simply can’t help when you moan out, his sucking forcing it out of you.

“can’t wait to get inside this cute little hole.” rafe smirks, tongue moving down to your entrance, finally showing it some appreciation. he laps over your cunt, unashamed to slurp and swallow your juices, shocked how wet you are (although he shouldn’t be after teasing you for so long).

“i can’t wait to feel your dick.” you moan, hands tightening on his hair but rafe doesn’t complain as you push his face forward, finally conceding and sticking his tongue into your entrance, feeling your gummy walls against the muscle as he begins to thrust it in and out.

rafe continues for as long as he possibly can, even grinds into the bed slightly to hold off from how badly he needs to give his dick attention, but he can’t take it anymore.

you are completely naked while rafe is still fully dressed, now kneeling between your legs. he works on the buttons of his shirt first before tossing it away, undoing his belt buckle while keeping his eyes locked with yours until he’s able to slide it out of the loops, also joining his shirt somewhere on the floor.

he’s built for a businessman, muscles gleaming in the low light as he works his pants and underwear off next until his hard cock is revealed, standing upright away from his body with pride.

“wanna suck you.” you begin to sit up, but rafe pushes your waist gently back down against the bed.

“you can suck me off after showing me the trevi fountain tomorrow. need to get inside you.”

“tomorrow?” you smile. you weren’t sure when you called his number after exchanging them on the plane if he would even pick up, let alone find time to come and see you while in rome. “aren’t you busy?” “don’t care what my boss says.” rafe simply shrugs. “not if it means getting more time with you.”

its strangely romantic for someone who is basically a complete stranger to say, but the thought is quickly swept out of your head when rafe drapes himself over your body, his cock rubbing through your slick folds.

“condom.” you suddenly realize, eyes widening.

“shit, i don’t have one.” rafe groans, still rubbing his cock against you. “please, baby.” “i-i guess its fine.” you’re on the pill, but you only met rafe a few days ago, and unprotected sex would be completely out of the question if you weren’t so desperate for him to plunge his dick inside of you.

“thank you, baby.” rafe says, the nickname rolling like butter off his tongue, making your eyes flutter closed.

he reaches down with one hand, lining his cock up with your entrance before sinking in, both voices joining in a chorus as you moan out. 

“fuck, you’re so tight. feels so good.” rafe praises you, his hand reaching to grip your tit in is large hand, encompassing so much of your chest.

“mmm, slow.” you flinch slightly, still adjusting to how big he feels inside of you, stretching at your walls. “slow at first please.”

rafe nods, hips barely moving as he rocks in and out, dropping himself lower to press a kiss to your lips, quickly turning into a makeout session until rafe just can’t keep the slow pace anymore.

“you’re good.” you tell rafe, who has been slowly increasing his tempo since you started kissing.

“thank god.” he moans, hips going from soft swings to instant heavy pounding, thrusting wildly up into you. you let out an involuntary squeal as you reach up above your head, gripping the headboard as rafe repositions himself slightly, now kneeling with your hips held firmly in his big hands, holding you up so he gets the perfect angle to hammer inside of you.

you moan as you feel your high building, never having been able to from just penetration before, but rafe is hitting a spot inside of you that you swear no man has ever touched before, and when you feel him release inside of you, your own orgasm forces itself out too with a scream.

--

“i mean what are the chances we have the same flight back.” you laugh. you’re not sat next to each other like before, but you do plan on asking to move seats so rafe can keep you preoccupied again.

“i know.” he smirks, leaning forward to press a kiss to the edge of your mouth. “can’t wait to fuck you in the bathroom.”

you roll your eyes at him at the moment, but you do let him take you into the bathroom when the lights dim for everyone else to sleep, easily enticed by his blue eyes.

“gotta be quiet for real now baby.” rafe says, having somehow maneuvered both of your clothes off in the small room.

his hips are thrusting up into yours, his palm covering your mouth, seeing by the gloss in your eyes that you’re already too far gone to hold your noises back. thankfully, your hands are still able to grip the edge of the sink to keep yourself steady.

“can’t be like in the hotel room.” he smirks. you eventually got a noise complaint on your fourth night there, but the hotel associate simply asked you to keep it down before retreating, probably intimidated by the fact that rafe still had very little on when answering the door.

“wanna kiss you so bad, gotta promise me you won’t moan the second i take my hand away.” rafe says, looking into your eyes. 

you nod, batting your eyelashes at him in a way that has him instantly conceding, hand dropping away from your mouth, quickly being replaced by his own lips, still not trusting you fully, especially when he uses his newly freed hand to reach between your bodies and rub your clit.

rafe manages to dampen your moans that flow into his mouth as he pumps up faster, still without a condom, having never gotten around to buying them between working and trying to spend every spare moment inside of you, only agreeing to see the sights so your bodies could both recover before fucking again.

“close.” you whimper. rafe smiles, hes learned your body so well in such a short period of time, he was able to tell just from the way your cunt began to pulsate around his cock that your high was almost upon you.

rafe moves faster, the sink squeaking slightly until your body tenses briefly before turning into a tremble, clit pulsing under his finger as rafe lets out a low moan, lodging himself as deep within you as he can before cumming.

you feel blissed out, elated for the rest of the flight, even managing to catch some sleep while leaning against rafes shoulder. you don’t even think about what is going to happen after you land back in america, how you are going somewhere different than where rafe is.

you walk out of the plane right behind him, expecting him to turn and take your hand like he did when walking around rome, or to turn around ask you if you’d like to chat and have some coffee, maybe even kiss you and pull you into a random secluded lounge.

but he does none of those things, simply keeps on walking. you follow him, tears starting to swell in your eyes.

they fall when a girl runs up to him, her long blond waves flowing as she jumps into his arms, pressing a kiss to his lips that rafe instantly accepts like he hasn’t been kissing you for the past week.

“i’ve missed you so much, rafey!” she squeals. you’re not sure if its her words or the high pitch of her voice that causes you to stagger back.

rafe still doesn’t look back as he walks away, doesn’t turn to see you fall to your knees, doesn’t witness the way sobs rack your body.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie

[ericshoney]

Talkative ~ Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: Mentions of mental health, anxiety, selective mute!reader

~~~~~~~~~~

You were sat on the sofa, waiting for Matt. The two of you had planned to spend the day together, Nick having a meeting for Space Camp and Chris already gone with some other friends.

The house was unusually quiet, which made you feel more relaxed. You and the triplets had been friends for a while now and were great with your anxiety and selective mutism. You would talk more to the guys at home rather than out and about, a few words here and there, or a nod of your head. The triplets were understanding and knew if you needed anything.

"Hey, you ready?" Matt called as he walked through from his bedroom.

"Yeah." You answered quietly.

You loved all three of the brothers, but with Matt you felt as if you could talk more and not have to shout. It was more calm and relaxed with just Matt, which sometimes, you needed.

You both went down to the garage and got in the car. Matt put some music on low so you could still hear it, but not be overwhelmed by the noise.

"Where do you want to eat?" Matt asked you as he began driving.

"Mcdonalds please." You answered, making him nod.

Matt then drove towards Mcdonalds. You looked at your phone, notifications from TikTok popping up. As you watched some videos, small giggles escaped your lips, making Matt smile.

"What's so funny, sweetheart?" He asked.

"This girl pranking her brother. Like it's so simple but so funny and he never sees it coming." You explained.

Matt smiled, he loved when you talked more. He fully understood your struggles and was there to support you along with Nick and Chris, but when you were in a chatty mood, it made him smile more.

"Sounds fun. Oh look we're here, what do you want?" He replied.

You looked up and realised you had arrived at Mcdonalds quite quickly. You gave Matt your order as he pulled up in the drive-thru. Once he had ordered for you both, paid and collected the food, he turned to you.

"Now where would you like to go?" He questioned.

"Can we just park up somewhere and people watch?" You responded.

"Sure." He replied.

Matt then drove to a spot that wasn't too busy, but a few people so you could watch. You both started to eat your food, watching the world go by.

"Woah look at this dude!" You exclaimed.

Matt looked at where you were pointing and saw a guy walking past. He had bright green hair.

"That's a bold move." Matt said.

"Yeah, could you imagine having that hair colour? Have you ever thought about dying your hair? Imagine if Nick tried green hair!" You rambled on, making Matt smile. It wasn't often you had bursts of energy to talk, but boy did he love it.

"Nick would look so goofy with green hair." He said.

"He would." You nodded in agreement.

You two soon fell silent again, whilst eating, before you turned to Matt.

"Matt...am I weird?" You questioned randomly.

"What, no. Why would you think that?" He replied.

"Just that....Sometimes I don't talk a lot....or at all, but today all I wanna do is talk." You said, looking at his blue eyes for comfort.

"Sweetheart, it's okay. It's what makes you, you. We, I, understand your selective mutism and your anxiety. It's all okay to not want to join in a conversation, or talk at all, or talk loads. What matters is your happiness. Nick, Chris and I all understand and are fully supportive and here for you whenever. Don't put yourself down, darling." He said, making you smile.

"Thanks Matt." You said.

"Of course. Now how about you finish up and then we go get Happy Ice?" He suggested.

"Yeah!" You cheered loudly.

Matt smiled wide at your reaction and knew you were happy, which made him happy.

[cxffecoupx]

do you wanna build a snowman?

kwon soonyoung + one running ahead to jump onto the snow as the other fondly watches. wc: 826 (turned out pretty long for something i'm not really proud of🤧) warnings: a very hyperenergetic soonyoung author's notes: i wrote this while i should have prepped a little more for my exams,,, i've never actually had the chance to play in snow (but i would love to!!) so most of this is just me imagining it, and it probably isnt how it actually happens... pls bear with me(T_T) hope you enjoy reading it! winter wonderland masterlist

when soonyoung walks up to you with a cheeky grin, there's nothing nice about it.

it usually means a sign of incoming mischief or an idea that will definitely lead to some trouble.

so your concern was understandable when you saw him smiling at you from across the couch while you were reading a book. he poked you in your stomach a few times to grab your attention, but when that didnt work, he spoke out your name in a whine, a sing-song that, if you hadn't known better, would have made you think 'oh so cute'.

"soonie, what is it?" you ask him, eyes still reading the book.

"it's snowing outside... you know what that means?"

he pokes you again and you look up at him and responds when you continue staring at him in a confused look.

"it's time to build snowmen!!" he jumps up and grabs your hand to get you up.

"soonyoung, it's too cold to go outside!"

"you can have my hoodie."

"...let's go."

the walk to the park is nothing short of an adventure. the 10 minute walk ends up taking an extra 30 minutes, with the way soonyoung happily gleams at all the snow collected on the streets. he links arms with you before breaking into a dance-like walk by kicking his feet high, sending snow flying all over. you are almost overwhelmed by the energy he possesses in this sluggish, cozy weather, but his happiness is so contagious that you don't even realize until your cheeks started hurting, that you were laughing along with him all the while he ran to the park, pulling you along.

and if you thought the soonyoung until now was too energetic, you understand what a mistake it was when you see him in the park.

he becomes a child.

the first thing he does is crouch down to gather some snow in his hands. he jumps as he throws it into the air, laughing amusedly watching it shower down around the two of you. he lets out an excited shout as he runs and jumps into a heap of snow collected somewhere around; the snow mountain engulfs him and only his head remains visible, a blob of happy smile and merrily closed eyes.

the movies make it look cringey - all the lovey-dovey actions that couples in films do when it snows. you would roll your eyes whenever you came across such clips. 'load of bs' you would say - which initially caused soonyoung to gasp (he still does, but you're used to it now) - but you would watch because he likes such cheesy romcoms and you enjoyed seeing him happy.

you're the black cat that's slowly warming up to the love-sick golden retriever that's soonyoung.

so you don't realise it. how you have a dopey smile on your face watching soonyoung enjoy the winter he'd been waiting for so long.

he calls you to come join him, but snow hasn't really been something you liked, and you'd rather stay where you are and absorb the little warmth that his hoodie plus your jacket is providing you, than voluntarily join in on the fun and knowingly let yourself freeze.

so you just stand there, shaking your head for a 'no' while the smile widens on your lips.

"you're no fun," he says and pouts, and you throw your head back and laugh at his dramatics.

what you didn't notice was how he stood up and charged towards you, hands extended to hold you to him as he crashes into your still body. it takes you by surprise, and your high-pitched yelp gets silenced midway as he hugs you to him and turns your bodies around so that he's the one to fall on the snow.

"this was the only way i could get you to play with me," he says and flashes a cheeky smile to you. he extends your arms along with his arms and legs, moving them to make a snow angel.

you struggle to lift your head and look at him. "you're so annoying," you say, but then quickly let your head fall on his chest once again.

"but you still love me though."

you stay like that for a long time, and then get up to build a snowman with him. his eyes gleam at your words, and he gets to work immediately. you don't realise when hours pass by and the sun sets, but two sloppy snowmen and a couple snow fights later, you decide to head home.

"you called me annoying earlier," he breaks the silence on the walk back home, "but you should see seungkwan. he's absolutely intolerable with all his christmas songs..."

his hand laces with yours and swings back and forth as he talks about it. his face is glowing; and whether it is from the golden hour sunlight, or pure joy doesn't matter to you, as long as that smile stays with you forever.

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!

Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks

———

It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.

See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.

He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.

There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.

He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.

Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.

Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.

“Um.. what do you mean?”

“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.

“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.

“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”

The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.

Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.

The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.

“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.

Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.

“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“

“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.

“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.

Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.

Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.

But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.

He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.

Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.

Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.

He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.

“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.

He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.

A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.

Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.

“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.

“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.

“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.

“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.

“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.

The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.

He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.

God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.

“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.

Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?

Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.

He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.

With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.

Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.

But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?

Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.

The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.

“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.

“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.

“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“

His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.

The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.

It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.

The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.

Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.

Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.

“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”

Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”

Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.

Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.

He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.

So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?

He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.

And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.

Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.

“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.

“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.

This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.

“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.

“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.

“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.

“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…

He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.

“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.

Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.

“How did you-“

“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”

Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.

He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.

After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.

“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.

“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.

“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.

“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.

“I really should be going, sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.

“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.

“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.

“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”

He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.

They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.

“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.

“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.

Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.

He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.

It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.

He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.

After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.

He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.

After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.

So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.

A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.

His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.

He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.

So he walks.

He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.

Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.

Eddie. Eddie.

His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.

He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.

He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.

He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.

At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.

But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.

Steve walks out the door.

His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.

He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.

Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.

Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.

Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.

On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.

He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?

Maybe this will fix him.

Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.

Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?

He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.

He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.

He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.

His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.

The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.

It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.

He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.

A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.

But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.

It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.

It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.

Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.

The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.

He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.

Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.

A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-

Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.

Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.

“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-

“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.

Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.

“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.

To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.

“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.

Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“

“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.

Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.

He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.

“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.

Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.

“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”

Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.

It’s terrifying.

He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.

He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.

“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.

“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.

The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.

“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”

Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”

‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’

Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.

“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.

“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.

He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.

“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”

“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.

Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.

His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.

His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.

A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.

The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.

The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.

He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the taste

buttercup, chapter four

a/n: the smutty smut has arrived, folks!

summary: “look, all I’m saying is that he likes you, a lot. He’s never let himself be with anyone like you, anyone who truly made him happy, anyone he actually had a fighting chance of getting a stable and healthy relationship out of.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, kissing, over the clothes fun, dry humping, fingering, dirty talk

word count: 2419

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It had been the end of June when your parents passed. You didn’t recall much from that summer, most of your memories had just kind of faded away as the brain occasionally does when it’s faced with trauma, but one thing that you’d never forget was the feeling of Howard, each and every morning, gently lifted you out of bed and attempted to let you sleep a little longer, holding you like a tiny baby bear against him, as they went to open up the bakery. 

School was out, and at only nine years old, you couldn’t just stay at home all alone, not with their long hours and especially not with the overwhelming grief you were dealing with. So, they brought you with them.

It didn’t take very long before you forgot about your toys and activity books in favour of just watching the magic that went on in the kitchen. Soon you were running around the place doing all matter of little tasks they could come up with for you and when they noticed the missing glint it brought back to your eye, they began to teach you and truly made you fall in love with the meditative craft. 

At the end of that summer when the next school year rolled around, you didn’t wanna leave. You’d grown up here, you’d healed here, the doorframe into the small lavatory in the back even had little chicken scratches documenting your height. This place was your home.

Sweeping a damp cloth over the steel tabletops, the music emanating from your phone that rested on the dark windowsill suddenly stopped as it buzzed with your ringtone. Putting it on speaker, you kept on wiping the surface down. 

“Matt, hi!”

“Hey,” his deep timbre filled the dim kitchen of the bakery. 

“I’m just about to lock up, if you’re still up for a little company.” 

“Yeah, about that,” he puffed out a heavy breath, “I’m still at the office.”

“Oh,” your moments froze a moment, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just swamped with this case prep.”

“Is it just you there?”

“No, the others are here too.”

“Well,” you exhaled a smile, “if you’re gonna burn the midnight oil, maybe I could come over with some of the leftovers from today to keep you guys going?”

Still in the doorway, your arms enclosed around Matt and the stuffed brown paper bag in your hand hung over his shoulder. 

Eyeing the goods, Foggy’s voice found your ears, “is that the–”

“Yeah,” you simply extended your arm in his direction, “here you go, take it.”

“Oh my god,” he snatched it out of your grasp and opened the crinkly bag up, nearly drooling as he glanced through the selections, “Karen, could you–”

“Get some plates? Yep,” the honey-haired woman then moved into the small kitchenette and grabbed some paper plates and napkins. 

Drawing back from the fleeting embrace, Matt then asked, “how was your day?” 

“It was fine,” you shrugged, your eyes briefly flickering over his attire, the tie tugged loose around his unbuttoned collar and his sleeves were rolled up past his burly forearms, “I kinda like it when I get to do the night shifts all alone. It’s so quiet–, oh, and I get to have full control over the music choice. It’s great,” a slight grin brightened your features, “how about you, huh?” you grabbed his hand in yours, “what’s this wild case about?”

A deep sigh flowed from his lips as he squeezed your hand, “uh, it’s this kid who–,” his phone then abruptly began to buzz in his pocket, “oh, sorry,” he fished it out, “I gotta take this.”

Letting go of his fingers, you said, “of course,” and watched as he ducked into his own office and answered the call. 

As you gazed at his visage still visible through the glass, Foggy’s words stirred you from your daydream.

“He’s happy.” 

Turning to blink back at him, you hummed, “huh?”

“You make him happy,” Foggy smiled from the humble conference room, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him smile that much with anyone else, but then again, you are quite different from his usual type.”

Passing over the threshold into the space, your brows furrowed, “I’m not his type?”

“No! Oh, that came out wrong,” he winced, “Matt just has a tendency to get involved with the wrong kind of girls. You’re just different,” hastily adding, “in a good way.” 

“Oh…” you sank down into one of the chairs, wondering tensely if he was still dating others since you’d never had a conversation about how exclusive you were or how serious this thing between you even was, “does Matt date a lot?” 

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that, since it never really lasts that long,” Foggy said, though when he noticed the look on your face, his features soured in regret, “wow, I’m really screwing all of this up, aren’t I… look, all I’m saying is that he likes you, a lot. He’s never let himself be with anyone like you, anyone who truly made him happy, anyone he actually had a fighting chance of getting a stable and healthy relationship out of.”

Just then, you heard Matt’s footsteps entering the room from behind you, “hey,” he called Foggy’s attention, “you mind going down to the station tomorrow morning, check if Brett can get us any files that might help?” coming to a stop just behind where you were seated, his touch grazed the back of the chair. Reaching back, you caught one of his hands and briefly craned your neck, bringing his palm up to your lips to press a small peck to his calloused skin. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go buy some more cigars,” Foggy sighed, briefly turning his attention back to the computer before him, slumping slightly as the intimidating and tangled laws still flashed back at him on the screen from when he’d looked them up earlier, he then blinked back up at you, “hey, Y/n?”

“Hm?” you hummed, meeting his eye as you weaved your fingers with Matt’s. 

“Have I ever told you that my mom wanted me to be a butcher?” 

“Oh,” you heard Matt sigh dramatically behind you as Karen too bit down on her lip to suppress a smile, “not the butcher story.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry to break the news,” you said light-heartedly as you chewed on the taste Matt had offered you of his curry, “but I definitely picked the better one.”

With his tinted glasses resting on the coffee table beside where your takeout container of Thai food rested, a smile twitched on Matt’s lips, “well, you do work in food, so it does make sense that you’re better at ordering.”

“Here,” you filled your spoon up with the red soup, catching one of the floating pieces of tofu, before bringing it up to his lips, “give it a taste.” 

An airy giggle bubbled out of you as a drop of soup clung to the corner of his lip and you instinctively reached out to wipe it clean, his chuckle swiftly mirroring your own. Though when you then froze, fingers staying close, your laughter faded. The fluorescent light that streamed in through the tall windows of his apartment illuminated his features as you watched him swallow the small taste. Ghosting your thumb across his skin, you traced his bottom lip. You weren’t sure who moved first, but the next thing you knew, you were locked in a kiss. 

You faintly heard him place his dinner down on the coffee table before his palms came up to cup your cheeks. You fumbled a bit, trying not to tip anything as you laid down the spoon in your grasp. 

A yearning whimper seeped from deep within your chest when you felt his tongue faintly ghost against your own before he breathlessly eased back a bit to utter, “you’re right,” stealing a soft peck before he went on, “It does taste really good.” 

Tilting your chin, you fervently captured his lips once more, your touch crumbled up his shirt till it found purchase in his already loosened tie, playing with it as your tongue danced against his. 

When he buried his hands in your hair, his short nails soothingly scraped over your scalp and a small moan flowed from you and vibrated against his kiss. 

The clear pulse that rocked throughout your body accumulated between your legs in a dizzying throb, an enchanting sensation that swayed you to get even closer and crawl into his lap. His wide palms dragged down the length of your spine in a way that caused a shiver to follow along.

Tangling your fingers in his hair as you kissed him back, your hips then instinctively sought to scratch and satisfy the itch that had grown so immense by rocking down against him and the noticeable hardness that tented his pants. 

Breathlessly in between kisses, Matt said, “you wanna enjoy the food before it gets cold?” offering you a gentle escape in case you needed it.

Ghosting the tip of your nose against his, you uttered, “I don’t mind popping it in the microwave,” deliberately rolling your hips against his once more, “do you?”

Sharing his hot breath, you were so close that your lips nearly crashed into one another once more, but they didn’t as your pelvis kept up their slow and teasing grinding. Matt’s eyes fluttered shut a moment as he let out a low groan, “no,” his touch slid further down and dug into the softness of your bottom, “no, I don’t mind.” 

Capturing your lips once more, he slowly began to grow more confident in his touch, though some weariness still lingered as he began to aid your movements. 

As his lips migrated down the length of your neck, you let out a moan, “fuck,” your frame shivering from the pleasure, “oh my god,” yet also out of a deep desire for more, “Matt…” 

“Yeah?” his low voice vibrated against your throbbing pulse on the side of your neck. 

“M-Matt–,” your eyes fluttered shut as he rocked you down harder against him, “oh, holy fuck… could you–, would you–”

“What?” the sound of his words made you feel dizzy, “what do you need?”

“Touch me,” you uttered hazily, head enchantingly tilted back. 

“Yeah?” he reeled back a bit as one of his hands scooped up to find your cheek. 

“Please,” you downright whined, “please, Matt.”

Keeping one hand fast in your hair, the other one moved to caress the soft peaks of your tits. 

“Here?” 

You let out a filthy whimper as he palmed you, “uhh, ngah–, lower–…” his hand teasingly complied, “lower…” till he finally cupped you through your pants. 

“Here?” he pressed down against the seam, “huh? Is it here, Y/n?

“Y-yes!” you shuttered on top of him as he rubbed your thrumming clit so perfectly through your clothing, “oh, f-fuck, you’re good at that–”

He stole a short, yet sloppy kiss from your lips before your head tilted down and buried itself in his neck. Your moans were muffled against the crook of his shoulder as you then glided your own fingers down along the length of his arm, feeling the muscles of his forearm tense beneath your touch as he worked you. Eventually, your hand found what it was looking for, your palm rested atop of his, almost like you were holding his hand as you felt it move beneath yours and stroke you silly. 

Your fingers then grasped his tighter as you plucked it further up and stuffed it into your waistband, guiding his reach all the way down till you soaked his digits. 

“Christ, you’re wet,” Matt groaned as your touch, ever atop of his, begged him to swirl your puffy pearl, “fuck…”

Without the barrier of clothing, your frame swiftly began to crumble from the ecstasy. Your right leg gave out and slid across Matt’s lap to where your other limb was. Your head drifted down as well as Matt’s arms only tightened around your slumped form, keeping you flush against him as you hid your features in the mass of his arm as your free hand clutched onto it. 

Curling into him as he cradled you, the way he petted your pussy nearly made you vibrate, “don’t stop, please,” you unintentionally kept wiggling down against the tent in his pants. 

“I won’t,” he breathed heavily as he kept on caressing you, occasional moans also flowing from his lips, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

His long middle finger then slid down to tease your leaking hole before just shyly sinking in, just barely, keeping everything so light, before fluttering up to circle your clit again and then dropping down to repeat the motion till he had you on the edge. 

When you tumbled over, both of your hands joined at his bicep, digging into it as his name shined through your lewd moan.

Catching your breath, his fingers gently slipped out of your pants. Sluggishly, you clung closer and snaked your arms around him. 

“You okay?” he hugged you tight. 

“Mhm,” you hummed into his warmth.  

Planting a soft peck on your hairline, he then moved to readjust your embrace, lowering you both till you were lying on the leather couch. 

After a moment, your fingers twisted in the southern material of his shirt close to his belt, “do you want me to–…”

“No need,” he shook his head. 

Tilting your chin up, you glanced at his soft expression, “really?”

“Yeah,” a bright smirk tugged at his lips, “just the way you sounded was beautiful enough to do the trick for me.” 

Grinning wide, you felt your face grow hot at the compliment, haven not realised the power he had over you apparently went both ways. 

Cuddling him closer, you lifted yourself up a bit and pressed a slow kiss to his lips. 

When you laid your head back down, he asked, “do you want something to drink?” his warm palm drew slow and soothing patterns all along your spine, “some more to eat maybe?”

“No,” you blinked up at him, utterly spellbound, “could we maybe just stay here like this a little longer?”

“Of course,” he relaxed further beside you, “we can stay like this forever if you’d like.”

A smile then crept up on your lips as you pointed out, “forever’s a very long time…”

Chuckling lightly, Matt nodded, “it is…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[werecreature-addicted]

been waiting for the asks to be open again! I hope you're not overwhelmed already, if you are. ignore this:)

more poly!werewolf+vampire x reader

but hear me out; we go to this sophisticated gala and I get jealous because everywhere I look there are strong werewolf girlies and seductive vampiresses, my partners get along with them and I'm sulking like a child because I'm human and under their protection, they notice my jealousy but stay quiet during the ride home, the moment we step a foot Inside our house though.....

(if you don't mind writing this ofcourse, thanks in advance❤️!)

oh look part one

you huff and lean against the wall, annoyed. This party was supposed to be a fun excuse to get dressed up with your partners and go to a fancy ball. Instead, both of your partners were ripped away from your side almost at once, talking to old friends and packmates, and being flirted with by domineering She-wolves and stunning vampiresses.

It's not fair, no one else at this party will even come close to you because you're so heavily marked, but you're human. you can't put the same kind of claim on either of them. You feel a little inferior as well as jealous, you want nothing more than to go home but your two partners are having such a good time you don't want to interrupt.

They're both laughing as you three go home, drunk on wine, and high on a good mood. it takes them a while to notice how quiet you are, still sulking.

"awe did you not have fun baby?" your werewolf asks nuzzling the side of your neck, trying to make you smile.

"Well, how would you like it if you got ignored all night while your partners went and got hit on by other people," you snap.

"oh, so you're jealous? is that why you're pouting?" your vampiric lover chimes in, a wicked teasing tone in his voice.

"Well, I guess so," you mumble feeling embarrassed.

"oh puppy, don't be jealous, you're the only one for us," your werewolf croons, he tugs at your clothes, slowly kissing down your body. This turn doesn't really surprise you, what is a bit of a shock, is that your vampire boyfriend joins in as well, putting his mouth to your neck, and teasing your skin with his fangs.

"You can take both of us at the same time, can't you? I wanna show you how much you mean to us Darling," he murmurs.

"I can take both of you," you agree instantly, without thinking. they were going to break you, and you couldn't wait.

[veren-cos]

hihi, this may be a bit too specific, but if you’re willing to take it on, i’d love to see headcanons for the stardew bachelors’ reactions to an autistic/neurodivergent reader getting overstimulated or upset from too much sensory input (like loud noises, too many conversations, sudden physical contact, etc) and how they would comfort the reader? i rarely see any posts of this nature and would absolutely love to see one from you if you’re willing!! if not, no worries and tysm - keep up the good work!

Sdv Bachelor's x overstimulated reader

"Mmm nope this is too much!" You were balling up your hands, nails digging into your skin. It was too loud. Your shirt started to be uncomfortabley tight. Your jeans felt too scratchy, it was too bright, too much! Everything was too much.

Then you feel someone next to you.

Sam

"Hey.." he didn't know what was wrong, but concerts can be a lot. Especially if you don't know what you're walking in to, as this was your first one. "Can I touch you?" You nodded. "All right." Feeling a hand on your shoulder first, you knew he was moving slow.

He slowly moved his hand towards your back, starting to lead you out of the crowd. "Okay," the loud buzzing is drowning out as you go to a different room, "is this better?"

"Mmmhmm" You nod into him, pulling him into a hug. He held you tight, the pressure feeling nice, despite your shirt feeling suffocating.

"What can I do to help?" He rubbed your back, trying to calm you down and distract you.

"Let's just stay like this."

• Basically, he isn't entirely sure what's going on? He knew about your neurodivergencies, but had never quite seen how they effected you.

• Just a sweetheart who wants to help

• The two of you stayed like that for quite a while.

• If you were feeling up for it, yall would go back to the concert, but chill on the back of the room.

• He always brings earplugs, so he would give you an extra pair he has. In the future, he'd get you a pair of headphones.

• If you were not up for it, he would drive you home, no question.

Sebastian

He slide his hand into yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. He gets it, they were loud, it was a lot. The saloon was full of people, all yapping away, getting rowdy and enjoying themselves. And at times, you'd join in, have a blast! But today it was just too much.

"You wanna get you of here?" He whispered by your ear. "My social battery is dead, so why don't we head back to my place?"

You nodded your head, holding his hand tighter as the two of you walked out. The cool fall air felt nice. Sebastian never let you walk without a coat, but you had forgotten to bring one, so he lent you his hoodie. It was soft, and got rid of the icky feeling of your shirt. You were warm, and being in the quiet forest filled walk made you feel so much calmer.

Your walks were always a comfortable silence, Sebastian never once pressured you to talk. But just know he was there for you made things more than enough.

• I personally headcannon Seb as autistic, or some other form of neurodivergent.

• Regardless, he gets it. And he never wants to single you out, so if you ever need out of a loud or over stimulating place, he just says he isn't feeling social and books you guys out of there.

• He understands the overwhelming feelings.

• He likes to give you his goodies if you're getting overstimulated. They drown out some of the other senses, as they are really heavy and warm (not in a bad way though!)

Alex

"Babe, what's too much?" He leaned in closer on the bleachers. The game was going great, your guys' team was winning! So what was wrong?

"I'm so sorry Alex, I can't be here right now. It's too loud. It's way too loud." You stood up to go, but he grabbed your hand.

"Hey, wait. Do you need headphones? I know it gets loud, but it's part of the fun!" He didn't get it. Well you didn't say, so how could he know?

"Maybe another time, but right now, I need to get out of here." You near ran away, finding a quiet spot near the concessions. And you heard him behind you.

"Babe, hun, what's wrong? I can't know if you don't tell me, I just want to help."

"It's too loud! Everything here is too loud" You started gripping at your forearms, nails scratching into your bicep. "People here are so rowdy, and it's so loud. The seats are so uncomfortable, and it's. So. Loud. My shirt is too tight, my jeans are scratchy. And it's SO LOUD" You were freaking out. The noise was too much. It was all too much. You tried to ground yourself, but it was impossible because even from here you could hear the yelling fans.

"Hey.. hey. Look at me." He pulled your hands away from yourself. Your nails were digging in way too much for it to be good for you. "You're okay. Shoot what did I read. Uhm. Can you tell me the color of 5 things you see?" Alex didn't entirely know what the point of it was, but he could see you were not having a good time.

"Uhm... the bleachers are gray. The uh.." You took a deep breath. "The chip bags are yellow. Your eyes are brown." You had to stop for a second to just breath.

"Hey, babe you're doing great, just 2 more." He could see it was working! A miracle what glimpsing at a book about anxiety will do for you!

"Mmm. Your jacket is green. And the clouds are white." Your breathing was back to normal, and you could finally think again.

"Better?"

"Better. But uhm. Is it okay if I get out of here? I can stay in the car!"

"Hun, no. No we are leaving I'm not making you sit in the far by yourself." He held onto your hand, and started walking out the gates. "No game is as important as you are."

• He doesn't quite get overstimulation. But he does understand panic attacks.

• They aren't the same, but he can recognize when your brain is running a million miles a minute, yet on the brink of shutting down.

• He definitely tries to read up on what neurodivergency you have. He won't get all of it, just because he doesn't have it himself, but he wants to be the best boyfriend he can be to help you.

Shane

"Whats too much?" Shane looked to you, trying to make out the expression on your face.

"It's too loud.." You went from balling your fists to covering you ears, trying to drown out the noise. You shut your eyes tight, trying to focus on your breathing instead of all of the overwhelming sensations.

You felt him pull you into a tight embrace, resting his head on top of yours. Slowly pulling your hands away from your ears, Shane quietly asked what you needed. "I need out."

"Okay. Let's go then." No one questioned the two of you as you left the saloon. Shane was quite standoffish, so no one bothered him whenever he was at the bar. Once you got outside, you sat on a bench nearby. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You considered, but wanted to save this for a different time. "Not right now. I think I just want to be home. Will you uhm. Come with? I don't want to be alone. I just need someone to be with me." You felt safe with him. You didn't feel judged.

"Yeah.. yeah of course."

• While he doesn't explicitly know yet, all he knows is that you need out.

• No judgement. He just wants to be a sense of comfort.

• He gets when social interaction is overwhelming, but has trouble when it comes to textures or noises.

• But he puts in the effort to learn.

Elliot

"Love, what's wrong?" You felt him lean over your shoulder, rubbing your back. Elliot had been so sweet as to take you out for dinner, but it was all off today. Foods you were normally fine with were all wrong, the textures feeling rancid in your mouth. The ambient lighting was messing with your eyes, and it just was not going well. All you could hear was the clinking of people's glasses, and forks scraping against plates.

"Elliot.. Elliot I'm so sorry but everything is just." Your nails dug dents into your skin. "Just wrong."

He let out a breath. "Honey, you can talk to me. Here," he took a puasing, holding your hand and pulling you from your seat. "Why don't we take a step outside, hm? Take your mind off things for a moment."

The further away from the main room you were, the less overwhelming it all was. Once you were on the patio, it felt like you could finally breath. "There, that's better." He smiled softly. God Elliot was just so sweet, he understood without you needing to say. He notices the littlest things about you, appreciating you down to your smallest detail.

"Thank you, Elliot. I'm. I'm so sorry I feel like I'm just ruining our date." He was so sweet as to plan your entire evening, a book reading at noon, then shopping around the city, and finally, a candle lit dinner before going back home.

"My love," he looked into your eyes, "you are not ruining a single thing." You smiled as he kissed your forehead. "You just need some time, there is nothing wrong with that. Today has been a lot, and I apologize if it had been too much."

"Oh dear no! Nono, I just. Ugh. I sometimes just feel EVERYTHING all at once. And I can't sort out the good feelings from the bad ones. It gets all jumbled. And I can't focus. So, thank you. Thank you for giving me a breather."

"Of course, my love. And we can stay out here as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere." He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you close. You could smell his cologne, and the beach still leaving its mark. You stayed there for a long time, before continuing to enjoy your evening.

• Elliot is very attentive. So even if you haven't told him, or don't know what's going on, he is prepared to handle it, to work through it with you.

• He loves you so much, and knows that things can get overwhelming for people.

• It may not be the same, but he often gets overwhelmed with his writing, not remember what he has already written on the page, often spiraling and repeating his verbiage.

• So he can really empathize, and he will be there for you every step of the way :)

Harvey

"Farmer, are you alright?" He looked at you worried. Slowly unfurling your hands, he spoke, "you shouldn't dig into your palms like this, you could cut yourself."

Mmmm he was too close, and his voice was too loud. And as much as you appreciated the sentiment, you did NOT want him touching you right now. "Please don't."

"Don't what?" He was looking more concerned by the moment.

"Don't touch me." You gently pulled his hands off, though it was not a difficult task.

He flushed, "ah! I apologize, I should have asked first. But, love, what's wrong?"

"I, I don't know. Just ah. I'm not feeling great." Your breathing picked up, and became uneven. You didn't know what had happened. You hadn't been feeling well all day, but things just took a sudden turn for the worse.

"Okay, well." He let out a frustrated 'hmph'. "Walk me through your day, let's see."

"I uh. I woke up, fed the animals, made sure the sprinklers covered everything. I went up to Robin's to build a new silo. I then went to Willy's to get some more bait. Which got me thinking I should really make my own bait machine. But then I realized I didn't have all the materials. And while I was looking at my blueprints I found some other machines that'd be helpful, so I took a trip to the mines. And then I came here, to ah. To" you were starting to hyperventilate, spitting out your words as fast as you could. "To say hi to you, because I haven't seen you in a while. And I miss you, but I felt bad I couldn't stay for long. But now I'm here, and I'm taking up too much of your time with nonsense and I-"

"Woah, sweetheart. You're okay. You're okay. Here, okay. Breath in..." he motioned for you to breath. "Alright, great job. Now breath out.." he let out a big breath. "You are doing great. Breath in. Hold it. Breath out."

You were slowly starting to calm down. But everything still felt. Wrong. Why did it feel wrong?

"Now. It sounds like you did a lot today, huh? But it sounds like you didn't take a lot of breaks. Did you eat anything? Sleep good last night?"

You blank stared at him. "I did. Neither of those things." It was so obvious, but you got so into a spiral of busy you forget you have basic human needs. "Oh my yoba."

He let out a nervous laugh, "alright, well let's get some food in you, okay? I've got toast, or leftover noodles? Or that can of soup you left here last time?"

"That sounds great, Harvey. Thank you.."

• He knows all about it.

• Has some great grounding techniques, and is always pretty good at narrowing down the source of your troubles.

• Fixing them however is a team effort.

• He is always there to support you!

• He tries to keep things he know trigger it away, getting some more low lights, rather than the gosh darn overhead fluorescents.

• He always always makes sure to have one of your safe foods in his fridge. :]

Hey!! I love writing for this stuff! I'm autistic (amoung other neurodivergencies lol), and you're right, there is not a lot of content of this nature! My whole jam is writing for things that bring people comfort, however niche or serious it is! They deserve to be written about :) hope you enjoyed, and if there is anything inaccurate let me know! I'm writing mostly off my experience and knowledge, but if I'm flat out wrong I'd rather know and change it haha

And I tried to show different reactions for the reader with each bachelor. With Sam and Seb, the reader likes pressure, and touch for comfort. But in Harvey's scenario, it's a no-go. Sometimes the overstimulation is caused by sound, like in Alex and Sam's, but other times it's caused by lighting or just a really long day, like in Elliots. Overstimulation can be caused by a lot of different things.

Also I just realized I like. Never write for when you are married to the bachelors??? You guys are almost always just dating. It's most often an established and longterm relationship, but never married. Neat.

Masterlist

Feel free to leave more requests too! I like to have options lol

[alottiegoingon]

hc! enemies to friends

natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

summary: going from enemies to friends with nat

warnings: golden retriever x black cat dynamic, very brief drinking mention, cursing, not proofread pls ignore any mistakes

the request was enemies to lovers but i didnt want to sound repetitive so this could be considered a prequel for this if you ignore a few changes :)

𖧊 nat thought you were an excruciating pain in her ass

𖧊 when you joined the yellowjackets, she couldn’t be any more frustrated by your constant overwhelming happiness or your endless chatter

𖧊 “do you ever think about how aliens may think that we are the real aliens?” you and misty were in a heated argument about the topic while warming before practice and natalie was really trying to ignore you until she couldn’t anymore

𖧊 “oh my goood!” nat growled, hands covering her face as she was one step away from murdering you with her bare hands. “do you ever stop talking?”

𖧊 “maybe,” you reply to her snarky comment, stopping stretching your legs to cross your arms. “if you say please.”

𖧊 “i’d rather throw myself in front of a bus, actually,” she retorts, jaw clenching

𖧊 “and how exactly do you plan to play soccer with a broken leg or arm?”

𖧊 “no, that’s not-”nat tries to explain that, first of all, she didn’t actually mean it in a literal way but, second, if she did then playing soccer would be the least of her worries. but then she realized how stupid it was

𖧊 “just forget it,” she muttered, storming away with heavy steps, seeking solace in a quiet corner to warm up

𖧊 you were everywhere. yes, you went to the same school and the same soccer team but still, nat was always hoping to get a break from you

𖧊 it wasn’t very difficult for the other girls to notice that nat wasn’t exactly the happiest around you and that’s exactly why jackie paired you two, trying to make you get along

𖧊 “it looks like we are partners,” you said with a grin, heading towards nat. her narrowed eyes and tense posture were a stark contrast to yours

𖧊 “let’s just get over with it,” she couldn’t care less about small talk and she surely didn't wanna hear shit about fucking aliens

𖧊 passing the ball to each other was a very stupid idea, nat was sure of it. it was for kids, for beginners. and she wasn’t either of those. you, on the other hand, seemed pretty content with the fun and light training

𖧊 “did you know that smoking isn’t good for you?” you simply let your bold words fall from your lips, still focused on the exercise

𖧊 “how do you know i smoke?” nat can’t believe how annoying you were. she didn’t need advices

𖧊 “i saw you smoking behind school this morning. i tried to say hi but you didn’t see me”

𖧊 “oh. was that you?” she squints at the memory of a louder version of yourself was screaming her name from the open window of a passing car

𖧊 “yes, didn’t you hear me?”

𖧊 “sorry, i thought you were screaming bats”, nat explains, trying to hide a hint of a possible smirk appearing in her face by compressing her lips

𖧊 “why would i scream bats? i was saying nat!”

𖧊 “hm, no,” she nods. “it was definitely bats”

𖧊 bickering over small things was something that the yellowjackets were very tired of, especially if it happened in the locker room after practice when everyone was exhausted

𖧊 “are you filling my water bottle?” nat approached when you were by the drinking fountain, struggling to hold at least five other bottles on your arms while filling nat's

𖧊 "no, nat. i'm holding it for fun," you snort, eyes pierced on the running water so it wouldn't overflow

𖧊 "i didn't ask you to do that!"

𖧊 "the girls asked me to do theirs and yours was empty. you're welcome" as soon as you're done with it, you close the lid and practically shoves her bottle on her chest, barely giving her any time to hold it

𖧊 "it was empty because i wanted to! the water tastes like shit here," she digs her fingers into the plastic so hard that they were turning white

𖧊 "are you allergic to saying thank you or just rude?" you exhale, now facing nat with, for the first time ever, impatience in your eyes

𖧊 "fuck off, princess," she forces a laugh out, "i'm allergic to annoying and bubbly girls stealing my stuff, yes!" nat steps forward and you thought you were allucinating when you caught her eyes on your mouth

𖧊 “just kiss already, i'm so tired of your shit,” tai groans before you could tease her about it and right by her side there's van smirking at the very gay situation

𖧊 “in her dreams, maybe," you mock nat just to have the pleasure of watch her whole face going red

𖧊 after being completely humilliated by you (you made her blush) in front of everyone, nat was furious. that until she found you hidden in the spot she would usually go to smoke with her friends before school

𖧊 she was about to leave as soon as she laid her eyes on you, not wanting to get envolved in any drama. besides, she didn't like you and she didn't care. but she couldn't just leave you there

𖧊 "what's up, princess? someone stole your gel pens?" nat wasn't good when it came to comfort someone, and definitely not you. so, maybe, being funny would help

𖧊 you didn't bother to look up at her. sitting on the floor hugging your knees against your chest and burying your head onto your legs, you weren't in the mood to listen to her taunts. "not now, nat."

𖧊 nat wasn't sure of what to do. sitting by your side and mirroring your position, she pondered for a while and decided that the best thing to do was to wait. it's not like she cared about being late for school anyway

𖧊 "coach martinez wants to replace me. he said i don't kick strong enough," you slowly lif your head from your knees in order to face natalie, who was attentively listening to your first words after some solid ten minutes

𖧊 "this is crazy. what does he know about soccer anyway?"

𖧊 "he's the coach, nat," you frown at her strange way of reassuring you, despite finding it kind of cute

𖧊 "well, there's that," she rubs her temples, "but we still have time until the nationals. maybe we could practice together"

𖧊 "like you and me?" your confusion only gets worse. natalie scatorccio wanted to help you?

𖧊 "it can't be that bad, right? and it would suck to have you replaced by some other loud and irritating girl when i'm already used to you"

𖧊 this could go terribly wrong and end up with nat having your head in a stick but you were willing to take the risk if it meant that you had a chance to stay in the team

𖧊 "alright, i'm in" shaking your head, you extend your hand for nat to shake it and seal the deal. "i always knew you didn't actually hate me."

𖧊 "don't make me regret it, princess."