#neither did i until i started writing that part
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Rec List: New Authors!
Welcome to 2025! And as we say goodbye to 2024, this list is taking a moment to shout out new authors who ventured into 1D fic this year -- welcome aboard. It's truly amazing to me that 15 years since the band was formed, and 9 years since they as a group put out new music or performed together, new people are still joining the fold -- or dipping their toes into writing and posting fic, after hanging out in other spaces for a time. I'm sure plenty of people are joining via the solo music, but it still warms my heart to see this community that has meant so much to me continuing to grow and flourish. New fans are just as valid as old fans, and are absolutely essential for a healthy fandom ecosystem.
So with that said, here are 9 fics from people who started posting for the 1D fandom in 2024. And some of these writers have been incredibly prolific -- two of the fics listed are over 100k, and one of the authors has sixteen 1D fics already! Here's hoping we see more from them in 2025 and beyond -- please join me in giving them a warm welcome to the community!
Notorious by violetlilachyacinth (64021, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: period-typical homophobia, implied/referenced rape/non-con
1946. WWII has just ended, but there's still work to be done. To help bring Nazis to justice, U.S. government agent Harry Styles receives a new assignment: recruit Louis Tomlinson, the American son of a convicted German war criminal, as a spy. Neither knows the full extent of the task they're asked to complete nor the full impact they will have upon each other. The stakes are quite high.
Reccer says: This fic blew me away! It's an adaptation of a film, and I can imagine how much work the author did to make it their own. Harry and Louis' connection leapt off the page. And no spoilers, but I loved the ending.
freaky friday by tracksuitponytail (1700, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: dubious consent due to body swap
It’s Friday the 13th—a day like any other for Louis until he wakes up in the middle of the night... in his best friend's body.
Reccer says: SO well written! I enjoyed it so much, and it really cheered me up on Thanksgiving
Coffee and Confessions by Vyshv (676, General, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles)
A cozy coffee shop in New York City, with the warm aroma of roasted beans and the soft hum of chatter, two lost friends find each other.
Reccer says: This fic so so soft and lovely! I love the feelings it evoked
Hazelnut by BlackRose_Lilly28 (100, Not Rated, None)
Another drabble based on a twitter prompt. This time: "Hazelnut."
Reccer says: Fun to read, and very sweet!
here for the thrill by worldsofdreamers (3357, Explicit, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik)
niall wore a cowboy hat and he was just saving a horse
Reccer says: we needed a fic of niall in his lil cowboy hat and this fic DELIVERS. always love fics from this author. they’re very good writer and they are a good go to if you’re in need of a ziall fic.
All in the Golden Afternoon by leighllbealright (126028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
When Louis Tomlinson needed to find a new preschool for his daughter, he wasn't expecting the one across the street to be everything he and Goldie ever needed. Or: the one where Louis is closed off, Harry is the weirdest person ever, and Gemma may as well be a psychic. Somehow, calico-cat-style, they forge a beautiful family from pieces that don't quite fit.
Reccer says: This series is one of my top 10 from 2024. Brilliant characters, gorgeous writing, Harry’s sweaty elbow-pits, everyone is a flower, naked treehouses and more.
Whole Lot of History by Blue_Green28 (73592, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
With 3 children coming out of their twelve years long marriage Harry and Louis are essential parts of each other's lives even though they have moved on with new partners since their divorce ten years ago. Or have they?
Reccer says: Exes to Lovers, Miscommunication, mpreg
everything of mine is yours by blueskiesrry (33000, Explicit, Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson) – fic post
With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.
Reccer says: The scene where Louis reads a Lincoln biography out loud to H in the bath? Swoonworthy!
The Handbasket Diaries by Hazel_tea_dreams (160326, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)
London’s expensive and work’s a grind but everything is a little better when you have good mates who understand you. The narrow brick flat building in Brixton, home to Louis, Liam, and Zayn and affectionately referred to as The Handbasket, is more than a place to catch winks and reheat leftovers. When Harry stumbles into its midst (and Louis' lap) with flatmate Niall in tow on a particularly hot Pride weekend, none of the five of them will be fully prepared for the shenanigans, tomfoolery, true friendship, or steamy romance that will unfold over the year.
Reccer says: This was so fucking lovely. I binged it in two days—only put it down to scream about it on Bluesky (and sleep and like, essential stuff). The writing is witty and tender and, apparently, communication kink is my jam. This is the only fic (in recent memory) that I finished and then wanted to restart immediately.
#rec list#category 23#new authors#one direction#zayn malik#liam payne#niall horan#harry styles#louis tomlinson#1dficvillage#1d rare pairs#1dsource#hlficlibrary#hlcreators#tracksintheam#trackinghome#allwaswell16#alwaysxlarrie#ficsfor4am
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SUNSPOT AND COLD FUSION LORE BECAUSE FORTNITE PREFERS CROSSOVER CASHGRABS INSTEAD OF BEING ORIGINAL AND MAYBE PAYING ATTENTION TO THEIR OWN CHARACTERS AND INSTEAD LEAVING IT UP TO FAN INTERPRETATION !!! WOOHOO !!!!!!
TLDR: Sunspot, being born from a supernova in another solar system, befriends a tiny lifeform of one of the planet's moons. They get separated by flying debris on their way into the Earth's atmosphere, landing in different parts of the world. They cross paths again years later and commence goofy shenanigans and chaos :)
It all started in a different solar system, not too far from our own. Its dying star gave in and left behind a sentient lifeform, supposedly forming somewhere in the sun, feeding off of its radiation. Only when the mother star gave in and exploded did the newborn star, no bigger than a human child, slowly gain sentience.
On one of the planets moons lived an alien species, one of the most resilient and intelligent lifeforms for something that could so easily fit in the palm of your hand. It could survive off of little sustenance and extreme temperatures. With their deceptively tough limbs, they could also form their own armor out of just about any material they could find to protect themselves from predators, and even attack them. Cold Fusion (aka Snowspot) was one of them.
Once the supernova occurred and Snowy's home was destroyed, he was sent flying out into space, same direction Sunspot was going. Neither of these aliens from outer space knew how to communicate, but they seemed to understand each other nonetheless.
For a while they kept each other company, until after a little nap they noticed what they were headed towards: the planet Earth. Just barely missing the asteroid belt, some scattered debris from the rocks abruptly separated them on the way towards the planet. By the time they had reached the atmosphere, they were falling thousands of miles apart, on completely different parts of the globe. Sunspot's destination was the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, where he wandered the ocean floor for several months before finding California's shore. Cold Fusion, on the other hand, landed in the mountains of northern Canada, where he found a village within days and closely observed interactions between humans.
I wonder what happens next !! tbh im typing this in my bed rn and considering a nap after i queue this; y'all let me know if you want me to continue some of the story and i'll reblog it with more! (swear I'm just explaining and not writing it in the actual style of a book im a better writer than this i sweaR DFHGSJKL)
#fortnite#sunspot#fortnite sunspot#sunspot fortnite#sunspot cold fusion#traditional art#doodles#writing#lore#story time#k rambles
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what if i make a playlist but its literally just 'u/ryu pining after hime and ichi'
#out.#also i feel like this is a uhhh hilarious thing to state but#when i first started writing on tumblr in 2011#my very first rp blog ever. was in a b/leach rpg#and it was r/yuken#so my uhhh thing for tall douchey guys w glasses and also white haired bitches has uhhh never left#neither did my thing for gingers tbh#started w his dad and now im here lmao#what tf was i even in 2011 i think i was like.... fifteen or some shit#iiiiiiiiii cant do math lol#bibis knew me tho#on og site we shall not name anymore#not on tumbs#i think the second b/leach char i wrote the longest for was actually l/oly#bc none of the rpgs i joined EVER had u/ryu free but he was all i rly wanted and i didnt join the indie scene rly until after i mostly#stopped writing manga stuff for the most part#i had a bl/each oc tho that shall remain not mentioned bc teen me was absolutely the worst but like#idk i might remake her at some point#and just be less absolutely a fucking menace bs teenager abt it lMAO anyways--
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i'm actually still not quite over the fact that oveta and korahi's stories continuously overlap until they finally cross paths in that market. that they don't even say anything to each other, they just smile from their different stalls. oveta rolls her eyes bc kova is being ridiculous and korahi bites her lip so she doesn't laugh and it's so simple, so peaceful, so fucking mundane. they have no idea who the they are to each other. oveta, the girl who killed the queen that destroyed korahi's people, her family. proof that someone tried to fight for them. korahi, the very creature that oveta was almost executed for defending, the push that became a shove to build her own kingdom and write her own laws. proof that nakia failed. but for just that moment, that blip of time, they were just two girls sharing a silent joke, and everything was okay.
#if i think about the splintering too long i start turning into a soup#if i've written a post like this before i dont even care!!! they make me insane!!!#and look i know oveta's whole thing is that she's trying to win back the gods favour; that she didn't act until after the punishment landed#but she was 8 or 9 when the killing started. there wasn't much she COULD do at the time when action was the most crucial#she'd just lost her friend (ariad) and didn't 100% understand what was going on and by the time she did it was too late#and suddenly SHE'S being punished by the gods?? she's lost a core part of herself due to the selfishness of her elders??#so of course that's what makes her snap but still she; even at 14; was the only one with the spine to stand up and say it was fucked up#she killed nakia so she could become queen and re-write their traditions. make sure something like that never happened again#actually fun fact: despite their status of 'extinct' dragons are a protected species in miednic (rip mattie if only you knew)#because oveta REFUSED to let it happen again - and even if it was soley in the name of keeping vietua's affection#it still makes her the only person who fought /for/ the dragons and their lives#and the fact that she is Right There next to Korahi; the Last Dragon. and neither of them know.#the splintering#nh: the splintering#oveta#korahi
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indifferent [s.h.] 18+
an: heyyyy me again so yeah could not stop thinking about a pathetic steve so here we are!! enjoy and feel free to send suggestions, concepts, or just chat!!
side note i listened to i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys on a loop while writing this so do with thag what you will!
masterlist here!!
summary: you and steve are coworkers and while you try (and fail) to act like he doesn’t exist, he’s a little obsessed with you and would do anything to have your attention
(fem!reader x steve harrington)
warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, public teasing (nothing too crazy), jealous reader, dirty talk, f masturbation, fingering, biting, kissing, spit, handjob MDNI!!!!!
wc: 15.5k
When it came to Steve Harrington, you were indifferent.
You didn’t fall in with the group of girls who fawned over him like some king, worshiping the ground he walked on and giggling at his attempts at jokes. But you didn’t fall in with the other group either. The ones that hated him, that called him names and rolled their eyes when he walked in the room with a smile on his face.
So you fell somewhere in the middle. To you Steve Harrington was your coworker, someone you often had to pick up the slack for or cover for when he was running late. You wouldn’t call him a friend but wouldn’t say he was your enemy either.
The arrangement the two of you had worked well for you. You’d cover for him or save his ass when needed, and in turn he’d leave you alone. Well sometimes he would. You didn’t mind him but sometimes it seemed like he could go on forever and you just…it drove you a little crazy, okay? He was good about leaving you be, making small talk for a little before the both of you quieted down and went about your shift.
Part of this arrangement was you teasing him until his cheeks burned and his felt fuzzy, but that was neither here nor there.
But sometimes you think he just couldn’t help it. He’d start going on about something and then it would be 45 minutes later and he’d still be going. You let him do this about once or twice a week. You didn’t mind him or his company, so if it made him happy to ramble on every once in a while you could live with that. He was a yapper and you were quiet. You would hum along to something you’d heard on the way to work and entertain his chit chat for a few minutes but that was really it.
Did that mean you couldn’t appreciate that he was actually really pretty? Of course not! He had dimples that made him seem boyish and sweet, even when he was being a menace. His hair was perfect, especially after he’d spent the day running his hands through it a million and one times. His lips were pouty and pink and so what if you stared at them when he was droning on about something? A perfect nose that you’d admired the slope of more times than you could count when he was sitting beside you going through returns.
He was pretty. You wouldn’t deny that. But that was it. No more, no less. It didn’t mean you liked him or wanted him or would fall to your knees for him like half of Hawkins did. Sure, you passed the time at work by teasing him and making him squirm, but it was only because you were bored and he was there, all pretty and willing.
You were indifferent.
****************************************
Steve liked you.
If you were in the same room as him he couldn’t help but to watch you. He didn’t know if you saw him and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d watch the way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear once every few minutes. He’d watch you scrunch your nose when you were reading and pout your rosy lips when sorting through dvd’s. God you were just so pretty.
He wanted your attention all the time, he craved it. He knew he looked like a little lovesick puppy the way he followed you around and hoped you’d smile at him or indulge his ramblings every now and then.
Pathetic. That’s what he was when it came to you. Sometimes you were a little mean to him but he liked it, loved anything you’d give him. He would even show up late on purpose sometimes just to hear you scold him!
“M’not always gonna be here to cover for you, Harrington. Be a big boy and get to work on time.”
His cheeks would be pink and he’d give you a shy smile, promising this was the last time but you both knew better than to believe that. You didn’t put up with his bullshit, you called him out when he needed it and you didn’t try and act like somebody you weren’t around him. He loved it.
Like today, you’d barely come in the door before he was on your heels, going on about some party from the weekend before and how it was sooo lame and that he didn’t have any fun. He’s so occupied with his rambling he doesn’t realize you’ve stopped until he slams into your back, hands coming up to grip your shoulders so you don’t both fall over.
Your hands grip the counter just in time and he expects you to turn around and gripe at him, scolding him like a toddler who’d been on your heels but you don’t. You huff a laugh and playfully shove at his shoulder, shaking your head.
“Jesus, Harrington. Maybe I need to get you a leash, hm?”
And maybe Steve likes that a little too much because he can feel the tips of his ears burning and blush working its way up his neck and covering his cheeks in a pink that makes him squirm.
He watched you quirk an eyebrow at him, a knowing smirk on those lips he’s dreamed about for months and he wonders why he’s not more embarrassed, why his heart is racing and his cock is swelling in his pants. Fuck.
“On second thought, I think maybe you’d like that a little too much.”
*************************************
One thing you love about working with Steve is teasing him. You’ve done good to not let him get too close to you, staying neutral when it comes to his antics but you can’t help the giddiness you feel watching him blush and squirm when you’re mean to him. You’ve come to learn he likes when you embarrass him.
You’re embarrassed to admit it makes you feel a little powerful, a little special when you make him this way. He’s not the big, bad, ‘King Steve’ he was in high school when he’s in front of you, oh no. You think he’s quite pathetic the way he’s practically attached to your hip and you relish in the way he hangs onto every word you give him, especially considering you don’t give him much.
Like today you’re perched on a stool at the cash register, barely working oscillating fan doing little to cool you down when the ac is shitty, pushing around warm air that makes your thighs stick together and leaves a sheen of sweat on your forehead. You hate the heat, but what you don’t hate is the way Steve’s eyes are glued to your thighs, watching closely every time you readjust or a bead of sweat slides down your leg.
“Careful, Steve, I won't be happy if you drool on my leg.” That snaps him out of it, shoulders thrown back as he whips his head up to your face and oh yep! There’s those red cheeks you’ve come to like so much.
He opens his mouth to say something, probably nothing that would make sense but you spare him from trying to explain his wandering eyes, reaching down into your bag to pull out your next bit of entertainment for the day.
This’ll be good.
Out of the corner of your eye you see him watching you closely and you can’t help the smirk you wear when your fingers find what you were looking for, wrapping around it and pulling it out for Steve to see. You don’t miss the way his lips part or the way he grips the counter in front of you.
“They’re my favorite,” you wave the cherry blow pop in front of you like you’ve found gold, smirking at the way his eyes follow it through the air, “I only have the one but I can share, I guess.”
It would be rude of you to not offer him any. You might tease and be mean, but you certainly weren’t rude!
Ripping the wrapper off you waste no time, sticking the sweet treat in your cheek, throwing away the trash and swinging your legs around so you’re face to face with Steve, knees pressed against his as your feet dangle off the stool.
Maybe you could blame the way you make a show out of it on the lack of customers today. You’ve been here for 4 hours and only a handful of people have come in. Yeah, that’ll do. That’s why you pull it from your mouth with a pop that makes him flinch, lolling your tongue around the candy in a way that makes his eyes glaze over. You can hear him gulp when you hollow your cheeks and close your eyes, pretending like the taste of artificial cherry is what’s making your ears buzz and your heart race.
Dragging the blow pop from your mouth you gasp, letting your tongue swipe against your bottom lip that you’re sure is shiny with spit. “Oh, where are my manners! Here ya go, Harrington, have a lick.”
Not giving him a second to react, you surge forward, pushing the sucker against his lips before he has the chance to open, smearing the stickiness and your spit around his mouth and smiling wide at the sight of him, a tint of red around his pouty lips that suits him well.
“Messy boy, aren’t you?” You swipe your thumb over his lips, collecting some of the mess and you can see the way his tongue peaks out and you know he’s dying to let it touch your thumb. You pull back before he can, popping your thumb in your mouth and humming around it as if it’s the blow pop itself.
“Told you I could share!”
You could be indifferent to him and still want to make him melt to his knees for you, right?
**************************************
Steve thought about the cherry blow pop incident for weeks. He was surprised he didn’t cum in his pants like a teenager when the spit soaked treat touched his lips or when he watched you suck on your thumb after it swiped across his mouth.
That was just one example of how you tortured him, how he loved it. He’d had to go home that night and barely made it through the front door before he was pulling his cock out and picturing you on your knees in front of him, teasing him for being a “messy boy.”
You had no idea.
This shit would happen, these events that Steve was positive were chemically altering his brain chemistry, and he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you? You’d do something like that, something so hot it was engraved in his mind forever and then five minutes later it would be as though it never happened. You’d smirk at him, go back to what you were doing and spend the rest of the day ignoring him or giving him one word responses while he begged at your feet for a scrap of attention.
He really was like a puppy.
So he was confused, beyond confused on if you were friends, if you wanted him…he just didn’t know what to make of it. He hadn’t seen you act this way with anyone else and it made him feel…special. God he was pathetic.
The problem with all this was that he wasn’t entirely sure you didn’t hate his guts. I mean yeah, you’d tease and scold him when he was being an idiot and you were mean but never cruel or malicious. But you also never really went out of your way to start a conversation, never really cared to keep one up with him either. You rarely smiled at him, which killed him, because he saw the way you’d laugh at something Robin said or the amusement dancing in your eyes when the kids came in to raise hell. You never let him have it though, and fuck he wishes you would. All he got were teasing smirks and he wasn’t complaining about them, not one bit, but he wanted to see if he could make you all sweet and mushy like everyone else did.
There’s been a few times he’s caught you staring but you never back down, never look embarrassed to have been watching him and he wonders if you were staring so hard to put a curse on his bloodline or something! He wouldn’t mind if you were, the feel of your eyes on him somewhat satiate the craving he has for you.
He’s thinking about you again, just like always. In fact he’s so deep in thought, leaned forward letting his chin rest in his palm that for once he doesn’t notice you come up behind him.
He wishes he would have noticed you because then maybe he could have prepared himself to talk you and then maybe he wouldn’t have fucked everything up the way he did. Maybe it would’ve gone differently and ended without you in tears and him feeling the world's biggest douche bag.
“Dreamin’ about me, Harrington?”
“Aren’t I always.” He meant for it to come out teasing—but it didn’t. Now you were staring at him and he was staring out the window, the tips of his ears burning and he wished he could swallow his own tongue.
“Anyways, any chance you’ll cover my shift this Friday?”
“Why? Where are you going?” Full on pouting now he finally met your gaze. You never missed a shift, in fact you were the only one that anyone could count on to pick up extra shifts.
“Who are you, my daddy?”
His fingers twitched on the counter in front of him and neither of you missed the way his throat bobbed. Jesus Christ you made him crazy. “If you must know, I have a date and Friday is the only day that works.”
Wait—what? You had a date? With someone who was not him. Based on the way his heart dropped to his ass, he realized he might want far more than just your attention. His throat clogged as he looked at you, waiting as patiently as possible for his answer but fuck a date? You’d never gone on one as long as he’d known you—well that he knew of.
“But…you don’t go on dates.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Oh he was fucked now. He’d opened his big mouth and pissed you off—not in the way he’d liked either. “Well I just, I just meant I’ve never seen anyone ask yo—I didn’t think anyone…or you…I’ve never seen you go on one so I just figured you didn’t.” His foot could not get any further down his throat. He was fucking this up royally, but he was flustered! The pretty girl he liked was going out with someone, god knows who, and his feelings were a little hurt, even if he didn’t have the right!
“Forget it.” Any amusement you’d held towards him vanished, something else passed over you that he recognized as hurt and then anger. Lots of anger.
“Wait! M’sorry, I didn’t mean it like tha—”
“No you wait, Harrington. I don’t care what you think or what you think you know, it’s none of your business. I didn’t ask for you to question whether it was possible someone could like me enough to take me out, I asked if you’d cover my shift. Which—by the way—is not a big ask considering I cover your ass at least two times a week! But forget it, asshole, I’m sure my date was a fluke anyways, right?”
Before he could apologize or even blink you’d stormed away, slamming the break room door behind you. Shit he was an idiot! A huge, massive, blubbering idiot who’d made you more mad than he’d ever seen. His words got all jumbled around you anyways let alone when he was jealous over someone else getting to take you out.
He’d fucked up big time and was just sure you were cursing his bloodline now.
*********************************
Big, angry tears rolled down your cheeks in the employee bathroom you’d locked yourself in for the last twenty minutes. You were pissed, livid even, but more than that you were hurt. Which was only making you more mad, because why the hell did Steve Harrington have the power to hurt your feelings! He wasn’t anyone to you but a coworker, maybe an acquaintance, and yet here you were crying in the bathroom at work because he…what? Didn’t think you were pretty enough or cool enough or—whatever he fuckin’ thought—to date?
Okay, sure he didn’t say that exactly, but how else were you supposed to take his blubbering. And yeah, for the most part you were quiet and reserved and didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have feelings for godsake.
At the end of the day Steve was a guy, a cute guy that you’d admired for his beauty and wouldn’t deny that he was overall sweet and kind, and you were a girl, a girl who apparently was not meant for dates.
And that hurts your feelings more than you’d care to admit.
A knock on the door had you wiping at your cheeks furiously, though at this point nothing would be able to hide your red cheeks and swollen eyes. “Who is it?” You cringed at how your voice sounded cracked and whiny.
“It’s Robin,” Oh thank god. Thank fucking god it wasn’t Steve. “Dingus is out here looking like he’s about to have a meltdown but won’t tell me what’s up, just said you were back here and that I should come check on you.”
Taking a deep breath you pulled the door open just enough for Robin to slip in, quickly closing it back behind her and trying not to let your bottom lip tremble when she turned to look at you and gasped. You weren’t even a crier! What was going on!
“Woa—shit I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. Are you okay? What happened? Did they get Steve too, he seriously looks two seconds away from curling up on the floor.” Hands immediately covering your face you sigh, willing no more tears to fall until you can get out of here and into your own bed.
“It’s not, I just—I really don’t wanna talk about it right now, okay? Do you think you could start early and cover the rest of my shift? I promise I’ll make it up to you I just…Rob I just need to go home.”
“Of course I can, are you crazy? There’s nothing to make up. Go! I’ll tell Harrington you’re not feeling well and he’s stuck with me for the rest of the night,” giving you a reassuring squeeze as you gathered your things you’d grabbed on the way in here you gave her what you hoped came off as a thankful smile, “and when—if—you wanna talk about this, I’m here. Just so you know. I can listen sometimes despite what they all say.”
You nodded, squeezing her hand and giving yourself one last look in the mirror, grimacing at the utter mess you saw staring back at you. Hiking your bag on your shoulder you fled the safety of the bathroom and all but ran to the door.
Steve was with a customer, the polite smile he had on his face completely wiped off when he caught a glimpse at your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You didn’t spare him one look, practically running for the door without uttering a word in his direction.
God he felt like a piece of shit. He doesn’t think he’d ever seen you upset, let alone crying. He’d fucked up bad and didn’t know how to fix it when he’s sure you wouldn’t give him the time of day now.
He’d have to find a way to make this better, the pit in his stomach growing when he thought of you being upset—hurt—because of him.
He stood there staring at the door until Robin came up beside him, a concerned look on her face as she studied him. “Did she say what happened?”
“No, she didn’t. Just said she needed to go home and didn’t want to talk about it. I’ve never seen her so upset though, I’m worried.”
He was thankful she didn’t call him out for his bullshit. It was obvious whatever happened had been between the two of you and he didn’t think he couldn’t take Robin ripping into him right now, even if he deserved it.
“Yeah, me too.” And fuck he was.
*************************************
3 days since Steve had made you cry. The more you thought about it, the worse you felt because if you were being honest with yourself, maybe there was a small, teeny tiny part of you that grew fond of Steve. Steve with his goofy smile and bashful grin when he’d tell you stupid jokes.
It was one thing to be hurt because he’d been a jerk, but now you were dealing with feelings you didn’t want. You’d been hurt because you liked Steve and hearing him say…well you guess he didn’t say much, just stumbled his way through some sentences that all started pretty shitty, your feelings were all twisted up that he viewed you a certain way.
But instead of thinking too hard about these newfound feelings you had, you chose to ignore it completely. Obviously! You didn’t have the time or energy to worry about what Steve Harrington thought of you, especially when you glance at the clock on your nightstand and shit you’re gonna be late for work!
This is your first shift in 3 days and your stomach turns because you know you’ll be working with Steve. It also happened to be Friday, the day of your date that you had canceled in a fit of hurt and anger when you got home from your last shift. But based on how that jackass you couldn’t even remember the name of took it, you’d dodged a bullet.
You’re pulling into Family Video before you know it, dread washing over you and it doesn’t help that the humid summer heat as your bare thighs sticking to your seat, it only adds to your frustration. You make no move to actually get out, but you know you can’t afford to miss a shift or risk this job so you get it over with, pulling yourself out and walking in before you say fuck it and head back home.
Walking through the front doors you see him immediately, standing behind the counter with worry etched between his brows and a small frown on his face. He looks like a kicked puppy, staring you down as if you’ve wronged him.
“You’re late.”
You stiffen, spine straightening at his words and a string of curses are on the tip of your tongue, ready to lash out at him because how dare he. But before you get the chance he’s speaking again, effectively cutting off the tyrade you had going on your head.
“And that’s fine, totally fine! You’re just never late so I was worried, but then again I know today’s Friday so I wasn’t sure if you’d be showing up at all…I didn’t get the chance to tell you the other day I’d already told Robin I’d cover her shift today but I talked to the boss and if you need to go you can, I can manage one night by myself, I swear!”
You didn’t answer him, walking past and heading to the break room to hang up your things and try and mentally prepare for what was sure to be the longest shift of your life. The only thing you had going for you was that it was a Friday night, so hopefully you’d be busy and not have time to stress over being stuck with Steve.
When you come back out he’s standing in the same spot you left him, staring around like a lost little kid waiting for someone to give him direction. Well you won't be doing it tonight. Wordlessly you take a seat on the stool, trying your best to ignore his stare burning into the side of your face. You’d snap at him if you didn’t think you’d have a meltdown.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go? I know you said tonight was the only night that would work for your date and I swear to you I can handle it. The place’ll still be standing tomorrow.”
Maybe you should go. You could go home and lay in your bed and wallow some more, eat some ice cream and try and forget the past week had ever happened. But you couldn’t. You needed the money and you certainly weren’t gonna hide from Steve when he’s the one that fucked up. So with all the courage you can muster you turn to him, doing your best to give a blank face so he can’t see the hurt brewing behind your eyes.
“No, Harrington. I don’t go on dates, remember?”
**************************************
Steve watches you turn away from him and fuck, okay he deserved that. He was a major asshole who had spent the last 3 days trying and failing to figure out how to get you to forgive him.
Then you walk in looking so pretty that for a second he forgets that you’re mad at him, that he had fucked up. But then he sees your eyes and they look sad, detached and that kills him all over again.
If he thought you might have disliked him before then he had no idea how good he had it! He’d give anything for you to smirk at him, to call him an idiot or to roll your eyes and pretend like you didn’t care when he rambled on, even though he could tell you did care, your eyes always gave you away.
“Can I please just—”
“No.”
“Please, I’m begging for you to just—”
“No, Steve.”
“But—”
“Nope.”
“Goddamnit please just let me at least try and explain myself a little bit. I know I don’t deserve it but I hurt you and I never, ever wanted to do that. Please. 5 minutes, honey. Please.”
He thinks he’s shocked you, eyes widening the tiniest bit before you shrug at him, casting a quick look his way before you turn back around and face away from him.
“I’m listening.”
Doing your best to ignore the fact that he just called you honey, he’s never done that, you turn to him and shrug, trying to act indifferent but on the inside you’re dying to know what he has to say. You want to know what he really thinks even though it goes against everything you’ve ever thought or stood for.
Jesus Christ you were the pathetic one, hoping for the reassurance of King Steve. Highschool you would absolutely kick your ass if she could see you now.
“I’m not…good at sorting my thoughts, especially around you and the shit I said the other day came out so wrong, so not how I meant it and I just—fuck I’m sorry. I never want you to be sad or hurt because of me…or anything at all,” He didn’t even know how to properly say anything without it coming out that he just liked you so much it made him a fool! “I was not trying to suggest people didn’t want to take you out, that came out all wrong. I’m sure there’s a line of people just waiting for you to give them a chance,” I would know, I’m front and center. “But I was just surprised because I hadn’t ever heard you talk about going on dates so I guess I just assumed…I don’t know. I’m an idiot who was also maybe just a little jealous and fuck it’s not even my business what you do! The point is that I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings, it was never my intention.”
It had been a few minutes with neither of you saying anything, the store empty and only the buzz of the crappy ac could be heard around you as he waited for you to say something, anything.
“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? I’ll do it, I swear. I hate you being upset with me, it fuckin’ sucks.” He couldn’t help it, his skin was crawling the longer you stayed quiet and he thinks he’d do anything to get you to not look so sad.
He hears a small huff from you and if he was looking he’d have seen it was a small laugh of disbelief. “I may be mean but I’m not cruel, Harrington. I wouldn’t make you get on your knees on this floor.”
Relief flooded through him and despite the humidity swirling around in the air he swore he felt cooler, lighter than he did before. “Does this mean I’m off your shit list then?”
Your laugh was loud this time and he felt his chest swell with pride that he had been the one to cause it, even if he hadn’t meant to.
“What makes you so sure I have a shit list?”
“Oh come on, you definitely do.” Things felt somewhat normal again and it eased the ache in his chest that had lived there for 3 long days. Maybe this whole thing would make you guys even closer, actually make you friends.
“Alright, maybe I do. And you’re definitely on it, but not because of what happened,” He found himself smiling at you and if he looked close enough he swore he saw a ghost of a smile on your lips before you wiped it away with the back of your hand, “but about the other day, I…you did hurt my feelings. I know, it’s shocking I have them but every once in a while I’m reminded I’m just like the rest of you, unfortunately. Look, I’ve worked with you a while and you’re sweet, Steve. You’re a good guy and when you were saying those things…I know you didn’t mean it the way it came out, but it made me feel..fuck I hate this shit. It made me feel like you thought I wasn’t good enough or pretty enough or some shit like that and it just…it fucked with me, okay? But I know you’d never be cruel like that so I forgive you. We’ll forget this happened so I don’t have to talk about my feelings anymore and we’ll be good. We are good. Fuck I’ll even admit we’re friends if we can not talk about this ever again.”
“You think I don’t think you’re pretty or good enough?” That was all his brain could think of. How the fuck could you think that? Had he not been obvious? He all but drooled over you every time you were in his line of sight.
“Really, Steve? That’s all you got! I just said we were friends. I'd thought you’d be over the moon.” Your eyes were looking everywhere but him and he knew you were trying to deflect. You’d just been vulnerable with him and he should move on but he couldn’t stomach you thinking you weren’t good enough or pretty enough, let alone thinking that he thought those things!
“Honey, I’d be lucky even if you even gave me a second glance. Good enough? You’re too good for me and every other sorry prick in this town. I fuckin’ swear it. I was caught off guard and jealous. Jealous that someone else had gotten you to give them the time of day!” You looked stunned but he kept going, “And I can give you all the dirty details about how pretty you are. How I spend all day practically getting paid to stare at you, what a job! How I’ve memorized every little detail of your pretty face, how I stare a little too long when you’re bent over in front of me. Or how I think about your cute little mouth wrapped around that blow pop and wish it was my—”
“Steve Harrington!” You’d slapped your palm over his mouth to shut him up and if he wasn’t enjoying how squirmy you suddenly were he’d nip at your palm to make you jump. It was nice seeing you all red faced and hot because of him for a change, even though he loved it when it was the other way around.
Maybe he’d said too much, let his filter slip a little too far but he wanted—no needed for you to know how perfect you were. Not just to him but to anyone with common sense.
Pulling your palm away he opened his mouth but you shot him a glare as he did, as if you could sense he was going to do it. He watched as you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and cleared your throat bringing your weary eyes to meet his.
“Smacking me around now?” He was a little shit, he knew it but he was sure you liked it anyway.
“You love it.” And shit, you’d got him there. He’d let you do anything you wanted to him with a smile on his face and his heart happy. But just because he’d made you feel better didn’t mean the hurt just went away and he’d do whatever it took to fix it.
“Caught me,” He threw you a wink that you ignored, rolling your eyes at him, “but seriously, there’s not one thing wrong with you and I’m sorry that I made you feel any different. I’m a dick. I’ll tell you till I’m blue in the face how pretty you are if that’s what it takes.”
“Oh no, I’ve heard plenty, you perv. Now I know why you’re so quiet when I’m reorganizing the bottom shelves, you’re staring at my ass!” He shrugged at you sheepishly, not being near as embarrassed as he should be for admitting that.
“But…thank you, Steve. This was just a misunderstanding that you’ve more than cleared up. We’re good, Harrington. I’m good.” And the relief he felt was seen on his face and felt throughout his body. He could’ve used the moment to be sweet, dragging out the conversation but you still looked a little uneasy about opening up to him so he thought it better to go back to territory you were comfortable with, him annoying you.
“Oh I know we’re good! We’re friends now, remember? Don’t think I’ll ever let you forget it.”
*************************************
Things between you and Steve had been…good.
There was a bit of tension between you, the kind that made your throat dry when you looked at him and your thighs clench when he whispered something in your ear if customers were around and he didn’t want them to hear. Maybe it was from the things he admitted or maybe it was because you were suddenly much more aware of Steve.
You’d had your talk, if you could call it that, a few weeks ago and the time you’ve spent together since then had been mostly normal. Steve, getting on your nerves, rambling about nothing for as long as you’d let him, looking at you with those pitiful puppy dog eyes when you gave him some attention. You, teasing him relentlessly, even more now than before. Covering for him less, he’d been showing up on time almost every shift you had together. Bending over in front of him more just to hear him curse and see his cheeks flush.
And maybe kind of developing a crush on him.
It’s not your fault, it’s his! How were you supposed to resist him after he said he’d be lucky to go out with you, after he told you he’d been jealous someone else was, after he told you how pretty you were and how he thought about your mouth wrapped around his—
Fuck—no, you were not going down that road again. Every time you thought about what he said, how genuine and needy he seemed when he talked about you, your head got all fuzzy and your knees threatened to give out. It was all you could do not to pounce on him the second the words left his mouth.
So yeah, you had a big fat crush on Steve Harrington.
He’d also taken your comment about being friends to heart, bringing it up every chance he got and using it as an excuse for the two of you to spend even more time together. You’d walk in Family Video and he’d flash you that smile, opening his arms for a hug you pretended to hate but in reality looked forward to every day.
“Hello, friend.”
“As your friend I have to tell you how pretty you look today.”
“C’mon friend, come to this party with me. It’ll be lame without you.”
You’d threatened to revoke his “friend” privileges and he’d gasped, clutching his chest dramatically and pretending to stumble to the floor. It took everything in you not to giggle at his antics. You were quickly becoming obsessed with Steve, and even more obsessed with how quick you could get him to turn into a puddle at your feet.
That was how you find yourself here at the Hawkins public pool with your bag strap digging uncomfortably into your shoulder and sweat dripping down your back, wearing what you’d bet was a grimace as you walked around the scattered chairs looking for Steve.
One thing that remained constant and strong was the mid summer heat that took your breath away and put you in a less than pleasant mood most of the time. Poor Steve got the brunt of your frustration but he never complained. And that’s why you finally agreed to come to the pool with him, because he was sweet and patient and adorable, even when he was annoying the shit out of you.
What you didn’t account for was the added heat you’d endure from seeing Steve shirtless before you, arms crossed over his chest and pale pink swim trunks sitting on his hips.
When did Steve Harrington get chest hair and why was your mouth watering over it? It made him look sexy, older in a way that erased all boyish features you’d come to love. He looked…fuck he looked hot. His hair was slicked back and you knew he’d already gotten in, too impatient to wait for the 10 minutes longer it had taken you to get here. He had a trail of hair on his lower belly that ran down under the band of his swim trunks and you think you might have actually let out a whimper at the sight.
You took a step toward him and cursed yourself when your legs wobbled a little bit. If he saw it he didn’t say anything, righting yourself quickly and making your way over so you could toss your bag into his waiting arms, trying not to look at the patch of chest hair just inches from your face and failing miserably.
“My own personal pool boy, a girl could get used to this.”
It didn’t take long to figure out that the easiest and quickest way to get yourself together was to turn it on him, to make his hands twitch and his stomach clench and to tease him until he was panting like a puppy.
“At your service, ma’am.”
Grabbing your arm he tugged you to the chairs he’d saved for the two of you, a cooler sitting between them with the lunch he’d made for the both of you. It makes your heart skip a beat and your tummy flutters. Your sweet Stevie.
He sat your bag down between the chairs, laying back so his arms were stretched back and crossed behind his head, a twinge in your stomach tightening as you watched him stretch out before you. A fucking Greek god. You needed to even the playing field and you needed to do it now.
Grabbing the sunscreen from your bag you put on the sweetest smile you could conjure while your body screamed at you to straddle his thighs and kiss him dumb. “Stevie, can you help me out with this?” He nodded without thought, that’s just how kind he was, sitting up to grab the bottle from your hands.
Before he could make a move to get up you knocked his legs apart, pushing yourself down and back so that you were wedged between his thighs, your back almost completely pressed against his front.
He cursed behind you, trying to scoot back but your hands dug into his thighs to keep him there, a silent plea. You’re sure if you could see his face he’d look almost pained at the feeling of your skin pressed to his.
You heard him flip the cap open and squeeze some sunscreen in his hand, neither of you saying anything for a moment before he leaned forward, his lips almost touching the shell of your ear when he spoke, “s’gonna be cold.” You nodded wordlessly and straightened up a little, pushing back further into him.
“Fuck.” You didn’t mean for it to slip out and hoped you could blame it on the cold lotion hitting your back, but you knew that was a lie. Steve’s big, calloused hands on your shoulders and back had you holding back whines and moans threatening to climb up your throat. Jesus Christ this felt good, too good.
Any composure you had left flew out the window at his next move and you were quickly falling behind in the one sided game you’d started with him.
You felt his hands move down lower to where the string of your bikini tied in the back, your thighs clenching hard when he slid them toward the front, following the line of your top and just barely slipping under the cup of your breast to tease the skin there before he was pulling back and going to your shoulders again.
Holy fuck.
He tensed behind you when your fingers dug harder into his thighs, but you didn’t even mean to. It was just a knee jerk reaction to his fingers gliding over the underside of your boob for Christ's sake. It wasn’t until you leaned back just a little, totally innocent you were just readjusting, that you felt it.
Steve was hard. His swimsuit did a shit job of concealing it. And he was pressed up against you so tightly you could feel him throb against your lower back when you gasped. This was your opportunity to one up him, to move ahead a few spaces.
Head turning to the side just slightly so he was in your peripheral, you needed to make sure he was looking and listening. You spoke as if you weren’t dripping wet yourself, thighs sore from how hard you’d been squeezing them together.
“Poor baby, touching my shoulders and grazing a pair of tits has you all needy, huh?”
He whined low in his throat, leaning forward to press his forehead against your back. You could feel little puffs of air against your skin as he tried to compose himself, not that you’d let him.
“Stop. Don’t be mean.” The words were whispered against your skin and you smiled.
“Don’t act like you don’t like it when I’m mean. Gets you hard, doesn't it, when I tease you?” You were being mean, so mean, but if the way he subtly tried to buck up against you was indication of how he felt, he loved it.
You kept going, basking in the feeling of his hands grilling your hips tight and his breathing against your back was getting faster the more you talked.
“You really are like a puppy. It’s just so fucking cute how whiny you get when you’re like this.”
Both of you stilled when a whimper slipped out a little too loud and all of a sudden you remembered where you were, a fucking public pool. Steve must have realized too because he pulled back, scooting far enough away that you weren’t touching anymore and you hated how you already missed the feel of his skin on yours.
Clearing your throat you shuffled over to the other chair, glancing at Steve to see his mouth shut and eyes looking anywhere but you. Maybe you’d gone too far. You opened your mouth to apologize but before you could he was up and tugging you to the edge of the pool, jumping in and practically dragging you in with him.
The cool water actually did a good job of cooling you down, physically and mentally. When you broke the surface, gasping for air, Steve was already there looking at you. You couldn’t read the look on his face, couldn’t tell if he was upset with you so you bit the bullet.
“M’sorry if I went too far, Steve. It’s just…you were…the sunscreen—you were making me feel crazy so I wanted to even it up. I shouldn’t have done that though, especially not here. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
For the first time since you came up from the water he broke his stare, opting to look around you before he came closer, pulling you in so no one would hear your conversation.
“Don’t be sorry, I’m not. I only pulled away because I was seconds from cumming in my shorts like a teenage boy and I was embarrassed.”
Lips pulling into a smile you covered your mouth and he pouted at you, huffing like a child when he saw you trying not to laugh at him. “No need to be embarrassed, Stevie. You can’t help that you’re a needy little thing.”
His hand swatted at yours that had come up to pinch his cheeks and you cooed at him to tease him further. “So mean.” He tried to look annoyed but failed and it made your stomach dip at how pretty he looked, drops of water falling off his lashes, lashes you and every girl in Hawkins would kill for.
“You really are pretty, Harrington.” The tips of his ears burned bright red and he moved toward you instinctively, like he wanted to kiss you. God did you want to kiss him. But you didn’t want to do it in a public place where you wouldn’t be able to make a mess of him after so you pulled back and splashed some water in his face with a giggle.
“C’mon big boy, let’s swim! I didn't come all this way just to stare at your cute face.”
Although you wouldn’t mind it.
*******************************************
The next few weeks are quiet, work goes by painfully slow when you’re not with Steve and you hate it. Your shifts with Steve are filled with teasing touches and flushed cheeks and very little work.
You’ve also been spending a good chunk of the time you’re not at work with Steve as well. He somehow almost always convinces you to come over to watch a movie or go with him for a late night ice cream run. You find yourself in his car or playing with his hair while you lay in your bed more often than not.
And you love it.
Trying to act like you weren’t obsessed with him was exhausting so you mostly gave it up. You’d smile at him more, laugh at his jokes more freely, and have become much more touchy with him.
Neither of you could seem to keep your hands off each other if you were in the same room. He always had to have a hand on your hip or one holding your thigh and you couldn’t keep your fingers from rubbing at his neck or slipping through his hair if he was close.
There hadn’t been a conversation about what was happening, but neither of you seemed to mind. You think that you’d become best friends who were just crazy about each other and that was enough for both of you.
Until it wasn’t.
If you were being fair, you knew that technically you and Steve hadn’t officially become exclusive or anything. The two of you probably weren’t even dating, even though you spent all your time together. Cuddling and teasing constantly.
But you weren’t fair. Everyone who spent any amount of time in a public setting knew that you and Steve were, for lack of a better word, an item. If someone saw you at the grocery store or at the post office, or anywhere, it was a safe bet that Steve was two paces behind you if he wasn’t already at your hip.
This was common knowledge. Or at least you thought it was. So it’s a surprise, a bad one at that, when you come back from your break with a smile on your face that is quickly wiped away when you see some blonde you went to school with hanging over the counter with her tits pushed at Steve, a devious smile on her face as she bats her eyelashes at him.
All the blood rushes from your body and you’re not sure you can even keep down the sandwich you’d had for lunch. A sandwich that Steve had made for you, might you add. There’s a horrible twist in your belly and you’ve never felt such rage as you have looking at the way she toys with the collar of his shirt between her fingers and at the way he gives her a small smile and doesn’t pull away.
You were jealous. So jealous it took the breath right out of you and made your brain go blank. One minute you’re standing there with your skin hot and heart pounding and the next you’re sliding back into your seat beside Steve with a glare so sharp it could cut glass.
“Need help with anything or are you just gonna keep groping the staff?” If your glare was sharp your words were sharper, serious and stern and directed at the girl who was still touching Steve, your Steve.
Both the girl and Steve’s eyes widen at your tone. She finally takes a step back and you feel like you can breathe again. You see the way Steve’s staring at you but you don’t look at him, you can’t or you might do something crazy like hit this girl, or even worse, cry.
Once the initial embarrassment from your words wears off she straightens her back and narrows her eyes in your direction. “I think we had it handled, sweetie. Your coworker here,” You flinch at the way she emphasizes coworker and feel yourself shrink a little, “was just giving me some movie recommendations. But thanks for the offer.”
“I’ll leave you to it then.” The words taste bitter on your tongue and you want to slap the smirk off her face so bad your palm twitches. Steve is quiet beside you and you can’t even begin to process how that adds to your fury, to the pain that’s bubbling up beneath your skin and threatening to spill out.
You’ve taken one, maybe two steps away from the counter, ready to go back to the bathroom of shame and cry again over Steve fucking Harrington when a hand on your wrist stops you.
The same hand, the one that belongs to the boy you’ve become enamored with, tugs you gently back to his side, hand leaving you for just a second so he can wrap his arm around your waist and tug you into his side. Your hips are touching and you feel a wave of relief wash over you, the pain and anger dissolving while his hand grips you tightly against him.
A sick satisfaction runs through you as you watch the way her jaw clenches and her eyes dim as his arm curls around you. Coworker my ass. Steve clears his throat beside you, catching yours and her attention, “I’m afraid I’m all out of recommendations for you, but maybe my coworker here has some for you.” Before she can even think about speaking you cut her off with a faux pout, “I don’t think I do, sorry!”
Deciding Steve isn’t worth the battle you’re more than willing to start, what an idiot, she turns around and pretends to look through the new releases for all of five seconds before she’s scurrying out of the store and leaving you both alone again.
Steve gives one last squeeze to your hip before he moves to sit back down, the reality of your little outburst smacking you in the face. Well, this is awkward. You sit down on your stool, tapping your hands on the counter while you try and gather the courage to look at him.
You hope he’s not upset with you and if he is well…fuck him! Just because you haven’t said it out loud doesn’t mean he’s not yours. You know for a fact if he caught you flirting with a guy he’d be pissed! All whiny and pouty and pawing at you for attention. So you were justified in being upset, totally and fully justified.
Now you’ve worked yourself up to tell him off and give him a piece of your mind, and you turn to him to do just that when it all slips away in an instant. Because Steve isn’t upset, no, he’s staring at you with wide, bright eyes and a smirk so big and knowing you curse yourself in your head.
Oh this is even worse! Now you’ve given him a big head, bigger than he already had!
“So that was…interesting.” You can hear the amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. You much prefer him all pathetic and whiny over this…cocky Steve. But really you don’t mind this either.
“Shut it, Harrington.” You think if you weren’t so obsessed with him you’d have the decency to be even a little embarrassed at how you acted but you aren’t! You practically marked your territory in front of her and you can’t find it in you to care or regret it.
“You were jealous. Over me! I’ll never shut up about this! I’m taking a spot in the paper for this, alerting the press as we speak!” His bottom lip between his teeth and he looked giddy like it was Christmas morning and he’d gotten the brand new shiny bicycle he’d spent all year wishing for.
You could have denied it, but what was the point in that? Everyone already knew anyway how you felt, you weren’t exactly subtle about it. Might as well embrace it at this point.
“And so what if I was? Figure you’re mine anyways, right?” Your cheeks tint the lightest shade of pink as you watch him take in your words, his eyes a little wide and a small shy smile on his lips.
“I am?”
God okay, maybe you hadn’t been as obvious as you thought the last months.
“Well…I thought so. You take up all my time anyways, Harrington, might as well. Plus I like you—well a lot. I’m yours too, ya know. If you want I guess, I don’t know, I thought this was just unspoken between us and now you’re making me nervous!”
His lips parted in what could either be shock or awe, you weren’t sure. He didn’t look appalled at the idea so that was a good sign, right?
“I’m sorry I just…sometimes I’m not even sure you like me all that much so I’m just a little shocked but yes! Fuck—yes I’ll be whatever you want.”
Maybe he was a little dumb or maybe you weren’t as good at showing your feelings as you thought but either way you’d make sure he felt wanted, needed by you.
“Steve, if I didn’t like you I promise I would not be spending all my time with you. I’m mean sometimes because you like it and I like seeing you all messy and cute. M’kinda obsessed with you, you idiot.”
His grin widened, dimples popping out and your heart sped up at the sight. He was pretty, so pretty and despite how you acted sometimes you felt so lucky that he even wanted to spend any time with you, let alone all of it. Steve Harrington had wiggled his way deep into your heart and your brain and you think your life would be dull without him.
“I’d ask you to pinch me but I know you’ll make it hurt,” Your hand reached out automatically towards his thigh and he swatted you away with an eye roll, “I’m obsessed with you too, have been for months. Since the first day you started actually. Want you to be my girl, wanna be yours too.”
Leaning forward you pressed a quick peck to the corner of his mouth and you felt his head turn, trying to catch your lips. He wouldn’t get off the hook that easily, it took no effort to remember how it felt to see that girl's hands all over him. Even if it wasn’t his fault you don’t think he’d mind paying for it anyways. Add on the cocky grin he had earlier when he realized you were jealous and all of a sudden you had big plans for Steve Harrington, plans that made your thighs clench and had you pulsing around nothing.
You cooed at him, pulling back just in time to see his brows furrowed and a cute little pout working its way on his lips. He had no idea what was coming to him and you couldn’t want to see how sorry he would be.
“Patience is key, baby.”
*****************************************
It was a week later when it all clicked for Steve.
A week of teasing touches and sneaky glances his way, even when people were looking. You’d leave a kiss on his cheek or the corner of his mouth or on the side of his neck right right under his ear. He was going crazy, body leaning forward subconsciously anytime you were near him.
You’ve barely let him touch you and at first he was worried but you’d whisper in his ear about “payback” for making you jealous and while he was nervous, now he was just excited. And impatient, wanting and begging for you to just do it already. He couldn’t take much more teasing, his cock had been aching for what felt like forever and no matter how many times he found himself in bed, stroking himself to the thought of you, it wouldn’t ever be enough.
He thinks you’ve finally decided to put him out of his misery, calling him earlier to ask if you could come over, that you had a special surprise that was just for him. He’d agreed without hesitation, telling you to come over whenever you wanted and that he’d be waiting for you. His parents weren’t around this weekend so he didn’t have to worry about them and he was thanking god for that.
It had been 4 hours and 37 minutes since you called, not that he’d been counting, when he heard a knock at his door that had him all but jumping over the couch and sprinting for the front door. He practically ripped it open, grinning wide as he took you in with dreamy eyes and his stomach twisted in knots.
You were wearing a sundress that reached about mid thigh and he had to hold himself upright with the door at the sight of your bare legs, tan and smooth and fuck he just needed to bite at the skin between your thighs. The dress had little strawberries printed all over and he’d bet money that you tasted just as sweet as the fruit. His mouth watered at the sight of your full lips all glossy with whatever you’d put on them and it took everything in him not to lean forward and suck your bottom lip into his mouth.
He didn’t realize he had been standing there just staring until you cleared your throat, a knowing smirk on your lips as he shook his head to clear him from the daze you’d put him in. “S’pretty, you’re so pretty.” His voice was quiet and he wasn’t sure if he meant for you to hear or if he was just talking to himself.
“Thank you, handsome. Can I come in or do I need to stand on the porch with you eye-fucking me all night?” He doesn’t think he’d ever get used to your crassness, even though he wasn’t complaining about it. He loved that you spoke your mind, no matter how dirty, and hoped what one day he’d be comfortable doing that too.
“Right, right, yes come in,” Pulling the door open he stepped to the side so you could come in, knees wobbling when he caught a whiff of your perfume as you passed, “Are you hungry? I can…order something. I don’t have much to cool but maybe I could run to the store real quick?”
He heard your muffled giggle as you walked through the house in front of him, hips swaying as you walked and he felt his cock twitch in his pants just looking at you.
“Just hungry for you, Stevie.”
You were teasing, he knew that, but he wasn’t sure you weren’t serious by the way you eyed him over your shoulder like he was your prey. And fuck did he want to be. He’d crawl around on the floor if you asked.
By the time he followed your trail and made it through the living room you were at the foot of the stairs, lip between your teeth and hands together behind your back all innocent. You both knew better than to believe that.
“Can I see your room?” Fuck this was happening. He nodded at you, grabbing your small hand with his and relishing in the way it felt to hold you. He led you up the stairs and was careful not to go too fast, to seem too eager. He knows you’d tease him for being so excited but based on the look in your eyes he thought that maybe you were pretty excited too.
Pushing his door open he watched as you took in his room, eyes light as you scanned over the posters he’d hung haphazardly, some artwork the kids had drawn for him hanging above his desk. His bed was unmade and he cursed himself, as if you’d care.
“Looks exactly how I pictured it.”
“You pictured my room?”
“Maybe.”
He stood still, leaning up against the door he’d closed and locked behind him as you made your way around, lifting up papers and magazines, humming quietly to yourself. You must have been a witch or something the way he’d become so entranced with you, following your every move like he wasn’t meant to do anything else.
So when you turn around to face him quickly, he’s startled, eyes shooting up to meet yours like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner.
“Alright then, on the bed.”
The flurry of questions he has does little to deter him as he scrambles past you and pushes on the bed a little too quickly. He falls forward face first and hears you snicker behind him. He’s not sure where you want him so he hopes he’s right. He scoots back, flush against the wall, the headboard on his left and foot of the bed on his right.
“You want this, Harrington? I’m not misreading anything, right?”
He’s shaking his head furiously, eyes wide and mouth closed as he watches for your next move.
“Oh now you have nothing to say? Months of knowing you and you’re hardly ever quiet. Use your words, big boy.”
“Y-yes, I want this. Whatever you want.”
The smile you reward him with makes his chest ache and the blood rush through him so fast he can hear it pounding in his ears. He thinks he wants you looking like that all the time, proud and pleased with him.
“Good! It’s time for payback then.”
**********************************************
You really really hoped your nerves didn’t show on your face as you stood in front of Steve. You don’t think he’d notice even if they did, eyes glazed over as he waited for whatever you had planned.
Now at this point you were over the whole jealousy thing from last week, really you were! But you played into it a little extra just so you could be mean to him right now. Although with the plans you had, you’d be being mean to him and yourself.
Wordlessly you reached down, fingers toying with the hem of your dress and you watched as Steve’s eyes tracked the movement, throat bobbing slightly as you lifted it a few inches before letting it drop back down.
This only lasted for a few minutes before you’d had enough, gripping your dress and almost ripping it over your head and letting it drop to your feet. What you hadn’t mentioned was that you had nothing underneath it, absolutely nothing.
Steve drank you in, slack jawed with his eyes almost bugging out of his head when he moved from your face to your tits, staring at your already hard nipples that you would blame on the coolness in his room. His eyes moved down further and he groaned, a deep, guttural sound that made your clit throb under his stare.
Was that some drool leaking down to his chin?
“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”
“Can I?” You don’t think he even realized the words left his mouth and you fought the urge to laugh at how out of it he seemed already.
“Not tonight, baby.”
His hands fisted the sheets below him as the pet name slipped past your lips and you smiled sweetly at him. Pointing to the headboard you directed him with a quiet voice, “I’m gonna sit there,” moving your hand to point toward the foot of his bed he followed your finger eagerly, “and you’re gonna sit there, facing me.”
He obeyed instantly, shuffling toward where’d you directed him while you climbed onto the bed and and situated yourself against his headboard with your legs stretched out in front of you.
“Can I have your shirt?” It wasn’t anything special, a plain white t-shirt that hugged him beautifully, but you wanted it all the same. To have his smell surrounding you, covering you in him. He peeled it off so he was left in a pair of jeans that stuck to him in all the right places. Unsure of what to do he tossed it to you and you wasted no time in slipping it over your bare frame, pleased that it bunched at your hips just how you’d hoped.
You could see the disappointment in his face at the extra layer you’d added and you itched to lean forward and pinch his flushed cheeks in adoration. He was just so adorable it made you crazy. With everyone else he was strong and stern, the babysitter and protector and king of Hawkins.
But with you…with you he was soft and sweet, pliable in your hands like putty and you ate up every second of it.
****************************************
Steve thinks he might have gone to heaven, you sitting across from him in nothing but his shirt with your thighs on display.
His chest feels hot despite the cool air hitting his skin and he thinks if he doesn’t get his hands on you in the next three seconds something horrible might happen. You're giving him that teasing smile that makes his tummy clench and sends excitement zipping down his spine.
He still can’t believe you like him, that you’re obsessed with him. It’s like a dream come true and he thinks he’s pinched himself at least 17 times in the last week.
He’s pulled from his thoughts when you call his name softly, head snapping up to meet yours and he feels dizzy all over again from how pretty you look.
“You’re gonna watch me, okay? No touching me or yourself until I say.” Wait—what? He gives you a nod and tries not to let his disappointment show in his face, and he knows he fails based on the way you smile and shake your head at him.
But any disappointment he had is gone in a flash when you lean back and spread your legs to give him a glimpse at just how much you like him. He might black out, he’s not sure. You’re glistening for him, a little bit of slick on your thighs and suddenly he’s starved. He audibly groans at the sight of you on display for him.
“She’s pretty—fuck so pretty.” He’s talking more to himself than you but he sees the way you twitch at him referring to your pussy as “her” and it makes him smile shyly, still not moving his eyes from where you’re dripping on his bed.
He watches closely as your hand trails down, rubbing over your thighs for just a second before you’re taking two fingers and spreading yourself open for him, both of you too impatient to drag this out too long. Before he can stop himself he’s moving forward, going to his knees and crawling across his bed that feels far too big all of a sudden. He doesn’t realize he’s moved until your legs are closed and one foot is pressed against his bare chest, stopping him from getting any closer.
One hand is holding him up and the other is holding onto your ankle as he pleads with his eyes for you to let him closer, just a taste, he just needs one little taste.
“We’ve just started and you’re already breaking the rules?” The faux disappointment in your tone makes him pout, leaning down to press a small kiss against your calf and he hears you chuckle at his attempt at distracting you.
“M’sorry, baby, you’re just so pretty, she’s so pretty. Let me have a taste, please? I’ll be good after that, I swear. Just one taste, honey.”
He watches in anticipation, hope is swelling in his chest as you study him and he can see the contemplation in your eyes as you take him in. He’s so close he can smell you and it lights his whole body up, cock so hard pressed up against his jeans he could cry.
“Hmm, no,” He hears the whine he makes but can’t be bothered to care, “what fun is payback if I give in before I’ve even touched myself! You can be patient, I know you can.” You have much more faith in him than he has in himself, body slumping in defeat before he’s moving back to where you directed him the first time.
“Can I at least take these jeans off? It hurts, baby.”
“Fine, but the boxers stay on, sneaky.” It takes him no time before he’s peeling his jeans off, sighing in relief when some of the pressure is released and he feels like he can breathe again.
Well he can breathe until you’re spreading your legs again, fingers slipping back down to tease at your clit as your eyes stay locked on him. His chest is tightening as he watches you. Watching the way your legs spread wider when you notice him fisting the sheets beside him. Watching the way your head falls back against his headboard when you move down to circle your messy hole, a moan so lewd coming from your mouth he feels a bead of precum drip down his cock.
Jesus Christ, he couldn’t decide if this was heaven or hell but he’s sure that either way he’d gladly spend an eternity here.
He’s torn between watching your face or watching your fingers in your cunt, eyes flickering between the two every few seconds so he didn’t miss something important. He remembers how you compare him to a puppy and he’s sure he’s never looked more like one than he does right now. He’s practically panting across from you and you’re the treat that would be making his tail wag—if he had one.
“Feels so good, Stevie. This is how wet I get just from thinking about you, ya know? Always have me messy and ready for you.”
“Please let me touch you. Fuck—please, sweetheart. Need it so bad, need you so bad. I’ll be good, I swear. Never make you jealous again. God I swear I’ll do anything.”
He knew you were getting close, thighs threatening to close on your hand and hips lifting from the bed eagerly. He could see it on your face too—you wanted to deny him, to torture him some more but he could see you giving in.
“You beg so pretty, Harrington. Fuck, get over here. Now.”
He didn't need to be told twice, launching himself across the bed and fitting himself between your thighs that had opened a little to accommodate his wide frame. He waited expectantly, and you smiled down at him fondly.
“You know, you really look like a—”
“A puppy, I know. So can I have my treat then?”
Nodding at him you swiped your fingers through your folds and held your hand out to him, fingers shiny with you and he opened his mouth quickly. His head moved forward and he took your fingers in his mouth, lapping his tongue around them greedily, determined not to waste a single drop. He hummed around them, eyes closed so he didn't see the way you were staring at him like he’d hung the moon.
“S’good then?” You sounded breathless above him and he could only nod, not wanting to drop your fingers from his mouth just yet. God, you tasted good. He’d compare you to a nice summer treat but the truth is you’d be perfect for any season, any day. Fuck he’d stay buried between your thighs 24/7 if you’d let him.
He finally pulled off just enough so that he could speak, “better than a blow pop.” The laugh that pulled from you made his heart warm. It was loud and genuine, shoulders shaking slightly as you grinned at him, teeth on display and everything.
It was quiet for a few minutes, you pressing your fingers down on his tongue and even though he’d cleaned them up, the taste of you lingered and he would gladly sit here with your fingers in his mouth for hours.
But you had other plans.
“Need your fingers, Stevie. They’re bigger than mine and I’m already close from watching you lap at my fingers like a little greedy puppy.” His eyes fell from yours, cheeks red and ears burning as you teased him.
“Can I use my mouth?”
“Mhm, not today. I already gave in way too quick, you were just too cute to say no to.” He wants to pout, to protest and beg but he thinks just watching you fall apart on his fingers will be more than enough for him.
You part your legs further as he slips down to rest his cheek against your inner thigh. His hair tickles the soft, sensitive skin there and you giggle. He moves just enough to press a quick, open mouthed kiss and dreams about the marks he hopes you’ll let him leave there one day.
With a nod from you he moves his eyes to your cunt, swollen and dripping, and runs his fingers over your clit just to feel your thigh twitch against his cheek. He wraps the hand he’s not using around your thigh, clutching it to him tightly as he eases two of his fingers into you. They slip in easily with no resistance and the feeling of your warm, hot walls snug on his fingers makes him grind his hips down into his bed.
“Shit—she feels good, hugging my fingers so tight.” Your hips buck up against his hand, urging him in deeper and he smiles against your leg. A groan slips out of him when your hand slips down to rub slow, loose circles on your clit, head rolling back so that all you can see is his eyes peeking up at you.
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so hot in his entire life. He can see the little beads of sweat rolling down your forehead and how you’re panting and whining above him, especially when he curls his fingers upward and finds that spongy spot that has your mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing shut.
“There it is, yeah? That’s the spot?” You’re nodding quickly, fingers that were circling your clit are now sliding into his hair and gripping it tightly. The burn of it makes him moan against your thigh, the sting of your grip making his eyes roll back into his head almost.
“D-don’t you dare stop, Harrington. M’close, so so close.” He doesn’t think there is anything that could get him to stop. Not when you’re dripping down his hand and your thighs are shaking like they are.
The final straw is when he moves his mouth down a couple of inches, teeth scraping against the skin where your thighs almost touch and he bites down, hard enough to leave a mark. He hears the thud of your head knocking against his headboard and the curse that flies out of your mouth as you clench down on him so hard you almost push his fingers out. He works you through it, licking over the mark he just left to soothe the sting and slowing down his fingers once you start to twitch and whine from the feeling.
It’s not until you're pushing his hand away and letting your legs slump that he takes a peek at you, a lazy smile on your face and hair sticking to your forehead where you’d been sweating. He knows there’s a widening grin on his face as he looks up at you, placing one last kiss before he’s sitting himself up so his legs are under yours and his hands are resting on the tops of your thighs.
“If that’s what you call payback then remind me to piss you off more often!”
You roll your eyes, letting your body fall back against his headboard, “Don’t get smart with me now, Harrington. Not when I’m about to make you cum. I would hate to change my mind.”
His ears perk up and honestly he hadn’t even thought about himself since he’d gotten between your thighs, content with watching you squirm and moan around his fingers. But he wasn’t gonna turn you down, hell no! Just the thought of you anywhere near his cock had him twitching in his boxers.
He closed his mouth, fingers coming up to mimic zipping a zipper of his lips and tossing the non existent key far behind him. You smirked at him, hand coming close to pat his cheek, almost like you’d pet his head.
“Good boy, now turn around and take those boxers off, please.”
********************************************
Holy shit. You didn’t think you'd ever cum so hard in your life. You swear you might have actually seen stars for a minute there when he curled his fingers just right. And when he bit you? How the hell did he know you had a thing for biting.
Keeping him at arm's length had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to do, especially when he was looking at you like you were a five course meal in front of him. He’d practically been salivating at the sight of you and it took everything in you not to give into him immediately.
But now that you’d cum, all you could think about was him. About finally getting your hand on his cock and listening to the way he’d gasp and whine with your hand around him. Just the thought was enough to send another wave of arousal and need over you, your toes curling and fingers digging into his bed.
He still hadn’t moved in front of you and you cocked your head at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly had that sad pout on his lips. “What’s the matter?”
His cheeks were red and he looked almost embarrassed as he tried to avoid eye contact with you and you worried you’d done something to upset him. Maybe this wasn’t as good for him, maybe he didn’t like you teasing him?
“S’just…you haven’t kissed me and I just—I wanna kiss you so bad but I didn’t know if there was a reason you hadn’t or maybe you just didn’t want to or—”
You cut him off, gripping his shoulders and pushing your lips against his that were swollen and slick with spit. He moaned against you, sighing and relaxing in your hold. Fuck—how had you not kissed him yet?
His tongue swiped against your bottom lip and you heard the little whine he let out when you didn’t let him in, laughing against his lips. He took the opportunity to move closer, hands moving to fist at your hair and you felt lightheaded from how good he felt, how sweet he tasted.
When you needed to breathe you regretfully pulled back, foreheads touching and noses bumping into one another as you both took big, greedy gulps of air. His eyes almost sparkled as he looked at you, a shy smirk on both your mouths.
“Better?”
“Perfect.” It was hard to ignore the way your heart thumped against your rib cage like it was trying to fight its way out. He was perfect. Everything about him and the way he carried himself drew you to him like a moth to a flame. Your mind was consumed with all things Steve.
And while you wanted to be mushy and sweet with him, one glance down between you had your mouth watering and fingers twitching at your sides. There was a dark wet patch on his blue boxers and the outline of his cock was prominent. You think you know why he was so cocky in high school now, he definitely had the goods to back it up.
“Kiss me whenever you want but if you don’t get your boxers off in the next 5 seconds I might do something crazy.”
Your words snapped him out of his post kiss haze and you laughed softly as he scrambled off the bed to pull his boxers down his legs and practically kick them across the room. You gulped at the sight of him, of his pretty and thick cock already leaking and shiny for you. You motioned him forward, eyes kind and soft as you spread your legs for him.
He smiled when you patted the space in front of you and he crawled back between your legs and shuffled so that he was sitting in front of you, his back pressed to your front, the material of his shirt clinging to his sweaty back. Your thighs stretched around his hips but you loved the slight burn it brought you. You laid back and brought him with you so that he was slumped against your chest, your feet hooked over his calves.
His hands were on either one of your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh there while his arms were loose at his sides. You took the opportunity to slip your hands under his arms, hands reaching up to run over his chest, tweaking one of his nipples on your way and watching the way his cock twitched where it was resting against his lower belly.
Steve looked like a dream, head thrown back on your shoulder, thigh thighs spread open with his pretty cock on display for you. As your hands made their way to his tummy you scratched softly, fingers sliding through the trail that started under his belly button and went down. He must have felt sensitive there because he turned his head to the side, mouth pressed against your neck as he cursed.
“S’good, so good. Fuck, I swear anything you do feels fuckin’ perfect.” You pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder at his words, feeling the high of them as he spoke.
Holding your hand out in front of him, palm up toward his face he hummed against you, not sure what you were wanting him to do, but willing to do just about anything if it meant your hand would be on his cock.
“Spit.”
All that was heard in the room was his quick intake of air, eyes fluttering as he leaned toward your hand. He looked back at you once, to double check that this was real or for confirmation that you really wanted him to spit in your hand, you’re not sure. But you nodded, throat bobbing as he turned back and spit, watching in awe.
“Good boy.”
Any strength he had left was gone at your words, head falling back to its place on your shoulder as you moved your hand down, taking hold of his cock and hearing him hiss at the contact.
You think this might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
His cock was hot and smooth under your touch, a mix of his spit and precum making it easy to glide your hand over his shaft, letting your thumb catch on the tip and relishing in the way he gasped in your ear.
“Such a pretty cock for a pretty boy, hmm?” The feeling of his fingers digging into your thighs only spurred you on, hand tight around him as you stroked him quickly, loving the way his tummy would clench and he’d gasp at how slick he was, how good it felt.
You’d never seen him so needy, so pathetic as he was right now, little whines and pleas against the shell of your ear as you gripped him. He was heavy in your hand and you wondered how he’d feel on your tongue, how he’d taste when he thrusted into your mouth. You’d add that to the list of things you needed to do immediately.
“M’sorry, sorry fuck—you’re gonna make me cum, m’gonna cum—oh shit.” He was throbbing hard against your palm, breathing even harder against your neck and you cooed at him when his hips started thrusting up in time with your strokes.
“Without asking? I don’t think so, Stevie. You haven’t even said please!” Your hand slowed and he moved so his hand was wrapped over yours, trying to get you to go faster but you swatted him away, scolding him with a pinch to his hip.
Taking one look at his face that was still buried in your throat, you could tell he was out of it, so fucked out you weren’t sure he could even form words, let alone beg. But that didn’t stop you from egging him on, slowing down until he was so worked up he was on the verge of tears.
“Oh fuck—please…baby, honey, please let me cum? I’ve been so good I just..shit I need it. You feel so good, perfect girl. O-oh my god, please. Please please please.”
He was mumbling, a mix of curses and pleas as he left sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your throat. You think you’d give him anything he wanted right now with how pretty he sounded, all pathetic and fucked out for you.
“Go ahead, pretty boy. Cum on my hand, yeah? Make a mess of us.” Your hand sped up on his cock, feeling yourself leak into his bed as he twitched against your fingers. You kept going, kept talking as his hips got sloppy and cock was red and begging for release.
“Don’t know how you’ll ever fit inside me, Stevie. Gonna have to prep me for days I think.”
“Next time you’ll have to use my mouth, yeah? I hate letting your cum go to waste.”
“Y’look so pretty like this. My sweet boy thrusting up into my hand, gonna think about this for days.”
He thrusted up one final time, hips stilling and body going tight as his orgasm took over. His cum coated your fist that was still wrapped around him, reaching his belly and even spilling down onto his thighs. He couldn’t even see the way you pouted at how much had been wasted, cursing yourself for not letting him use your mouth.
Slumped completely against your chest he mumbled something about his legs feeling like jelly and you giggled, cheek resting against his forehead.
“Soooo, good then?”
It took all the energy he could muster to squeeze your thigh, head moving to the side a fraction so he could look at you, smiling so big his cheeks had to hurt. “Are you fuckin’ kidding? I think I just saw god for a second.”
Rolling your eyes and shoving at his shoulders, butterflies danced in your stomach at how pretty he looked. His skin was flushed and glowing, hair a mess where you’d both pulled at it, lips swollen and red from biting and kissing and holding them between his teeth. He looked phenomenal.
As much as you’d love to stay here wrapped up in him for the rest of your life, your thighs had gone numb from being stretched around his hips and your back ached from sitting back against his headboard for so long.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see him nodding off on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and little puffs of air hitting your skin. You tapped his cheeks with your clean hand, “C’mon, Stevie. Gotta clean us up and then we can go straight to bed.”
He groaned in protest but leaned up enough so that you could slip from behind him, legs tingling when you stood on them, hobbling to the bathroom on shaky legs and flipping Steve off when you heard him chuckle from behind you.
“Oh fuck off, Harrington.”
******************************************
When Steve wakes up the next morning it’s slow and sweet, eyes blinking open and a small smile on his lips when he feels you pressed into his side.
He looks down and tries not to laugh at your mouth hanging open, a little bit of drool on his chest from where your cheek is squished against his skin. Your hair is sticking up in every direction and he can feel your breath on him. It makes his heart grow in his chest, an overwhelming sense of joy and contentment washing over him as he stares down at you. He could get used to this, you attached to his hip and waking up to you in his bed.
Thinking back to when you barely gave him the time of day, he smiles at your relationship now. How you’re just as needy as him, tugging on his belt loop to pull him to you if he’s not close enough for your liking, pulling his hand to your thigh in his car if he doesn’t do it first. He’s seen you use your foot to pull his chair closer to yours at work countless times, a little smile on his mouth every time.
There’s a part of him that doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He feels that way all the time but especially when you laugh louder than you mean to, hand coming up to cover your mouth with a bashful smile. He feels it when you're humming along to a song you’d heard on the radio, head moving side to side and hips swaying to the beat in your head. He feels it when you randomly bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm and to his fingertips.
He feels it all the time, really.
And he loves when you're mean to him, when you tease him about staring at you too long or for getting all bashful when you do something normal like tuck your hair behind your ear or scrunch your nose. He loves that you turn him into mush.
“Stop staring, you creep.” He’d been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice your eyes opening or how’d you had scooted closer to him, one leg coming up to tangle with his, wrapped together tightly.
“That’s rich coming from you considering I’m gonna have to clean your drool off me.” You gasped, sitting up straight and smacking at this chest, appalled at the notion that you would ever��could ever—drool on him in your sleep.
“Keep it up, Steve. Remember what happened the last time you pissed me off?”
As if he’d ever forget. Unfortunately for you, the idea of repeating last night, or anything like it, was hardly going to deter him from pressing your buttons in the way that only he knew how to do. Reaching out he tugged you back down to him, tucking you back into his side and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington oneshot#stranger things smut
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If you are still writing for bombshell x Spencer could you write something from early seasons when he had feelings for JJ 👉🏻👈🏻
Hotch told you once that he was tempted to put an automatic lock on the office doors, so that he can lock them when he sees you coming during your working hours.
He has yet to follow through. You slip in through the doors and take a deep breath. It smells like coffee, printer paper, all the same stuff as your own office, but your office doesn’t have Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, or Spencer Reid.
“Neither does this one, apparently,” you mumble to yourself, casting your gaze around the room to no avail. The boys aren’t here.
Emily’s sitting at her desk. She’s new, you’re jealous of her job, but she’s gorgeous. You won’t mind sitting at Spencer’s desk until they get back. “Hello,” you drawl, setting down in Spencer’s chair comfortably.
Emily’s mildly startled. “Hey?”
Spencer’s desk is an explosion. You debate cleaning up for him. What if you put something in the wrong place? It’ll be more annoying than helpful. “How are things?” you ask, pushing Spencer’s chair back, and kicking a leg over your knee, high heel bobbing.
“What?”
You smile at her. Flirting, just a little, but your concern is real. “How are things going, Prentiss? With you?”
“They’re good. Yeah. I just moved into my new place.”
Bless her for not knowing what to do with you. She doesn’t have practice like the rest. “A new place? Where to?”
She relaxes while you talk. Her apartment overlooking Kingman, her cat’s annoyance at the new smells and the long case time away. “Spencer says that cats aren’t capable of holding grudges, but Sergei can.”
“He’s cute, isn’t he? He knows a fun fact for everything.”
Emily sits up. You can see the excitement of a secret in her dark eyes. “He’s adorable. His little crush on JJ is so sweet, I’ve tried to give him some advice but he’s totally stuck on her.” You falter. And Emily, profiler in training, she catches it. Her lips part, startled. “You’re not–”
“I had no idea Spencer had a little crush,” you breathe, sitting up with a smile. “For how long? What about JJ, is she interested in him?” You hug your hands together. “You know, I think they’d make a cute couple.”
“Well, I heard they went to a football game together, but I don’t know when. Before I got here, at least.”
What? “That’s fun.”
“I don’t think it’s serious.”
You tip your head back and the heavens have opened, Derek Morgan’s making his way toward you with a grin and a hand reaching for you. “Sweetheart, where have you been?” he asks. “It’s been weeks, I was starting to miss you.”
You texted him a few days ago about a property nearby for rent, and you had coffee the day after to hear his advice on the area, so he’s just making stuff up. “Hi, Derek.”
You get up and let him hug you. You deserve it. You’re beautiful and fun and smart, and you deserve a handsome man rubbing your arm and telling you he missed you. “How much?” you ask warmly.
“Like a hole in the head.”
Hotch is behind him. And there, the surprise item of the afternoon, Spencer Cheating Reid.
“Hi, Hotch,” you say.
“I heard something about you I’d rather not repeat,” he says.
“Hotch, the details were wildly exaggerated, and I was less at fault than you might think.”
“I thought it was entirely your fault.” He shakes his head. “You’re shooting yourself in the foot, doing things like that.”
“Why, what did you do?” Spencer asks.
You falter again. Everyone sees your insecurity: Hotch’s brow furrows deeper than it had been, Morgan pauses, and Spencer, to your panic, holds your eye as the emotion passes. “It’s not worth talking about,” you say, shrugging.
“Try not to do it again,” Hotch says. “Morgan, with me.”
“Uh, Hotch?” Emily speaks up.
“You too, Prentiss.”
He leads a procession up to his office. Morgan throws you a look like he wants to talk to you, but you’ve plastered unaffectedness over the wound again. Why does the idea of JJ and Spencer going on a date upset you? He’s a sweet guy, she’s a nice girl. Is it because you didn’t know?
“You really haven’t been here in weeks,” Spencer says.
“Missed me?”
He holds the strap of his bag. “Yeah, I did.”
What use does he have missing you? “I heard something interesting about you, Spencer.”
“You did?”
He looks shy, pale, and worried. You forget sometimes how he’s not just your favourite dork, he’s a friend. And he doesn’t seem to have very many of them.
Oh, you think, jealousy, you heartless monster.
“The rumour mill says you aren’t sleeping enough,” you say gently.
“I sleep fine.”
You put one kitten heel in front of the other and stay, squinting at him with a teasing suspicion. “That’s not what my informants have been telling me. You look tired, honey. You aren’t sleeping, or Hotch won’t let you?”
“Both.”
He does that playful smiley thing that makes you wanna scrunch his hair in your hands, like he knows he’s made a good joke.
“Your case in Cincinnati sounded tough.”
“Wait,” he says.
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“Usually. Why?”
“Are you okay right now?”
“I’m fine.” You purse your lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just– you– I don’t know, you didn’t seem like yourself. I didn’t mean to upset you, asking about that stuff. It’s none of my business, sorry.”
“How are you feeling about physical touch today?” you ask.
He seems to regard you with distrust, for a few seconds, like he’s worried you’re messing with him. “I’m okay with it,” he says eventually.
You step into his space and touch his cheek gently, fingertip tapping into a beauty mark you often remember only when he’s in your reach. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m sorry I made you think that.” You drop your hand. “Just having a weird day.”
“Me too.”
Spencer puts his bag under his desk and mentions a video he found on profiling you might like by one of the old Unit Chief’s, SSA David Rossi. You steal Derek’s chair and sit knee to knee with him to watch it, Spencer’s cheeks turning dark with blush in the screen’s reflection.
Can JJ make him blush like that?
—
bombshell fics
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto
summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900
a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏
Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.
You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.
It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.
You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.
All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.
"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.
"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.
"Hi," you say, almost shyly.
"Hi baby, how are you?"
"Good," you pause, "stressed."
He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"
"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"
"Nervous, of course."
"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.
"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.
"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."
You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."
"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."
This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."
You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."
Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.
"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.
"What do you mean?"
"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."
"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."
"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.
"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."
"I hope so."
"I know so."
"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.
"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.
"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.
And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto oneshot#williams racing#williams f1#formula one fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one#purinfelix#jet writes ★
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stairway to the stars ☆ l.jh [m]
⤷ part of 'a very seventeen christmas' secret santa event! synopsis: your husband has always been supportive of your dreams - from the sidelines. he stays to himself, he keeps his mouth shut. it's you that can't stop running yours when your co-star is all over him. genre: established relationship au, tiny bit of angst, fluff, smut? pairing: husband!lee jihoon x actress!fem!reader word count: 1.5k...it pained me to stop it here. rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: mentions of jealousy, ideation of infidelity, general relationship dynamics. clit play, kissing, in the backseat...you know the vibes. what to listen to: stargirl interlude - the weeknd, lana del rey ; never lose me - flo milli ; the boy is mine - monica, brandy. author's note: hi baby @monamipencil ♡ i hope you enjoy my little segment for you! i did 1000% pull this out of thin air but please let me know if there is ever anything else i can write for you. much love from your secret santa. ♡
"Don't forget about me, sweetheart." It was one of the few phrases your husband burned in your brain when your career really started taking off. He'd only been your boyfriend then, trying his hardest to prove himself worthy of your affections and time. You promised you wouldn't, over shared bottles of heady Cabernet and stolen kisses. The following years proved most difficult – from fighting over not spending enough time together because of your jobs, to vacationing for months on end without repercussions – you were rising to the top way too fast for him to wrap his head around it.
But never once did his love, loyalty, or respect for you falter. He watched quietly from the sidelines, silently supportive of all your endeavors. He'd grimace inwardly a bit if your lipstick stained anyone else's lips on the big screen, he'd clear his throat one too many times if you shed any tears during a scene. He held your waist at events, a silent reminder that your ascend up the stairway to the stars was in good company.
When you finally got a bit of time for yourself, he made it his priority to become someone more permanent in your life. With eyes that never strayed and a heart that only beat for you, he proposed softly as the two of you took a midnight stroll for the first time in a long time. He apologized for not making it something grand, promising your wedding would be to die for and he'd pull every string possible to give you the honeymoon of your dreams – only for you to stop his rambling with a teary kiss to his lips. Telling your friends the news of the proposal was an exciting feat, until it fell on the ears of multiple of your co-stars. You hadn't ever even spoken of a boyfriend (you had, they just didn't remember), and a few of the men you'd worked with questioned the validity of your engagement, of your relationship – and it eventually got back to Jihoon. Whispers of the startup CEO dating an actress filled his office, side-eyed glances made him uneasy in his own skin and he hated it – he hated that people wouldn't mind their own business.
Needless to say, it pissed him off. He'd never been openly possessive, but a part of him knew that neither of you had an issue understanding where you stood in each other's lives. From dating, to girlfriend, to wife – you'd always been open about who Jihoon was to you and what his presence meant. You never shied away from answering his questions if any, and you proudly presented him as your significant other if he managed to attend any of your events. This alone was enough for the two of you to realize that people in your industry didn't take relationships too seriously, and enough for you to hard-launch your relationship by posting your wedding photos on social media.
The industry did not like that, but you didn't care. You and your agent continued to book role after role, your husband continuing to grow his business and make a name for himself in the world of music production…a stepping stone for him, and the first moment of blood-boiling jealousy you'd ever experienced at the side of Lee Jihoon.
Her hand was on his shoulder as they spoke music, and he swiftly moved out of her grasp, sure. The dance floor was full of couples, a dance floor you'd intended to whisk him onto after reapplying your lipstick in the washroom. Someone Like You by Van Morrison played as you stood a few feet away, your face contorted in a fit of envy as you saw your husband push her hand away, the words I'm married, please don't touch me falling from his lips. The woman grimaced – the same woman you'd starred alongside for three seasons of the very same show you were all celebrating a renewal for tonight – and she shrugged her shoulders, before the dreaded words fell from her own red lips.
"So? She doesn't have to know."
Jihoon looked taken aback, and it was almost like he was a moth drawn to a flame – his eyes landed on you, and the way your jaw was tight with anger as you made your way over.
"Soyoung, nice to see you. Did you lose something here, dearest?" You speak softly, staring at your co-star with eyes of fire. She gave you a sleazy smirk, shaking her head. "Not at all, Y/N. Enjoying the party?" "It's lovely, isn't it? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm feeling a bit under the weather." You gave her a tight smile, your hand wrapping around Jihoon's wrist watch as you pulled him away. He'd never seen you in such a state, eager to get him out of the venue and into the backseat of the black car waiting for you. Your arms were crossed as you sat facing away from him, before he made eye contact with the driver. He raised his brow, and the driver nodded, swiftly raising the partition as Jihoon turned to face you.
"Something bothering you, sweetheart?" He saw the way your shoulders tensed under the wine red straps of your dress, your legs crossed at the knee baring the skin of your thigh under the slit of the skirt. You gave him a glance through the corner of your eye, your lip jutted out in a pout as he cooed at you, making you huff in embarrassment.
"I don't like her." You mutter, "I don't like what she said and I don't like how she was all over you. She's literally my co-star. She knows we're married." "As much as I like your little pout and think you're adorable, I don't like that you're upset. You know I'd never wrong you, especially not like that." He tilts his head at you, making you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I know, Ji. I know." He's not satisfied with your answer, his hand reaching over to graze your knee, biting back his smile at the way your shoulders lose their tension at his touch. Your jaw remains tight, shaking your head in disbelief. "We've been co-stars for three years. You'd think she'd have some fucking respect for me." You were always so calm and collected, never too outwardly expressive of your disdain for people or their actions. He feels almost guilty for the growing tightness in his pants as you click your tongue, facing him as his fingers trace circles into your skin. "You're literally my husband. That's how I introduced you. My husband, Jihoon. Not Lee Jihoon, not the CEO of Ruby Productions, my husband. She's so shameless, I almost pity her." You tongue your cheek with a humorless laugh, and he can't help but feel his cheeks heat at the visual. He's silent as you run a hand through your hair, your earrings swinging as you shake your head again, giving him a pitiful smile.
"I'm sorry, I know this is out of character." You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. He nods, shifting slightly as your hand splays across his thigh. You press a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his pale skin when you notice the flush on his cheeks. He clears his throat as you stare at him, a look of disbelief glossing over your eyes as you gape at him.
"You liked it?" "In my defense, you're hot when you're mad." He scoffs embarrassedly, making you huff out a laugh. "Jihoon." "I'm sorry." He presses a kiss to your temple as you roll your eyes. "Are you?" "No." He smiles against your skin, and you feel your cheeks heat as he trails his lips down your neck. "I love you, sweetheart. Just you." "I know, Ji." You sigh, feeling a bit of heat pool in your lower belly as he nips at your shoulder with a hum. "I don't think you do. Maybe I should remind you." Your cheeks grow hot as he gently pulls your thigh over his, his teeth nipping at the shell of your ear as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Now you know how I feel. Everyone always has their hands all over you, like you're not spoken for." You shudder as he slips his fingers under the cotton fabric, smirking against your skin as your hand wraps around his watch. You bite down on your lip as his finger traces your clit, your nails barely digging into his wrist. "Ji, not here." Your body betrays your words, your grip on his wrist loosening as he pulls your thigh higher on his lap. "Why? Aren't you mine?" His voice is sultry as you shiver against him, slim fingers collecting your arousal while he nips at your ear.
"Yes, but-" "Oh, there's a but?" He slides a finger inside you easily, your words getting caught in your throat as you whimper. "Hoonie…" "Tell you what, pretty." He slips his hand out as the car slows to stop, the front of the hotel you're staying at coming into view. "We're going to go upstairs and you're gonna take this dress off for me, and I'll show you who the brightest star in my sky is. Go."
You nearly stumble as your husband walks out behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he bids the driver goodbye. You feel his teeth on your shoulder, his voice low as he speaks into your ear.
“And keep those heels on for me."
haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
#svtsecretsanta#woozi smut#woozi x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#woozi imagines#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#woozi x you#svt x you#seventeen x you#woozi scenarios#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#woozi fluff#woozi angst#svt fluff#svt angst#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#woozi fanfic#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#woozi#lee jihoon smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#kvanity
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christmas request - you get sexy christmas lingerie and surprise leah with a lapdance (which inevitably leads to smut)
unwrapping you ─ leah williamson x reader
part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!
in which: you leave leah's best surprise for last
warnings: implied smut (18+), lap dance, language but also a whole load of fluff
wc: 3.9k
a/n: most unrealistic part in this fic is chicken soup and sandwiches being one of leah fav foods (god forbid that woman eats something colored). in other words... how does one write a lap dance????? this is not full-blown smut. i didn't really feel like including that in this series, but i hope i still did your request justice. <3
Your first Christmas with Leah had been perfect.
Your lover woke you up this morning to breakfast in bed, Leah wanting to make use of the fact she finally perfected the one recipe she knew – fluffy pancakes. You thanked her accordingly with a couple fierce kisses that soon turned into way more than either of you had planned, the two of you finally rolling out of bed a good two hours later, messy hair and flushed cheeks a testament to what you had been up to in bed.
You took a warm shower together, and then set foot outside for a light Sunday morning stroll through London's Christmas markets. You walked side by side, one hand occupied with holding Leah's, other hand nursing a hot chocolate. You took your time on each stall, admiring all the handmade ornaments, pieces of clothing and so many other things that were up for sale. You managed not to spend too much, not getting anything more than a small extra present for your sister and a cute little ornament you would add to your table decoration for the team dinner on New Year's Day.
Back home, you made a quick lunch. You heated up some leftovers from the night before, when you made chicken soup and some sandwiches, one of Leah's self-proclaimed favorite dishes that you made. You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, gliding from one Friends episode into the other, drifting in and out of sleep in each other's arms on the couch.
It wasn't until evening came around though, that the best part of the day took place. You had kept the best for last; the presents. Normally you weren't one to wait for the evening, but Leah claimed that it would be cozier, and you had to agree. Your apartment was coated in a warm glow from the mood lighting all around, a couple vanilla-scented candles adding to the cozy atmosphere, you and your blonde lover cuddled up on the couch, a pile of unopened presents ready to be attacked on your coffee table.
As promise to one another, neither of you went overboard. Leah had quite the tendency to spoil you, but you wanted none of that. And to your surprise, she actually stuck to her promise. There were 5 presents on the coffee table; 2 for your girlfriend and 3 for you. Unbeknownst to Leah, though, her 3rd and arguably best present of the night, was already unpacked and waiting for her under your layer of clothes.
A couple days ago, while Leah was at training, you ventured out into the busy streets of London for a final surprise for your girlfriend. You were more than happy with the two presents you had at hand, but you couldn't shake the thought in your mind that had been there for the past couple of weeks, to buy a new set of red, lace lingerie – one that you knew would drive her completely nuts.
So with that secret in mind, you and Leah started opening your presents. She insisted you opened the first one.
"For you, my love," she said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as she handed you the first of her presents, the smallest one. You inspected the envelope, not able to make much from it on first glance. It looked elegant, though, a golden glow coming from the paper. You carefully opened the envelope, revealing a light green card with pastel accents. You couldn't really figure out what it was just yet, but with a little nudging from your girlfriend in the right direction, your eyes lit up as it dawned on you. "You booked us a weekend away?"
Leah nodded, a soft hum leaving her lips. "I know you've been wanting to get away for a little while," she started, taking one of your hands in hers. "I've been busy. You've been busy. But we can take a couple days for ourselves and for us. It'll be nice." Leah had a tentative look on her face, her eyes scanning yours, as if she was gauging whether you were actually happy with this.
Leah was right. The two of you had been extremely busy lately – your girlfriend's football schedule ramping up, and it seemed like the winter months had brought an influx of people wanting to buy estate, leaving you with a tremendous amount of work that you more often than not also took home.
You quickly gave Leah a fierce nod after you realized you got caught up in your thoughts, leaning towards her and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "Thank you, I love this. I love you. We need it. It'll be good," you mumbled against her lips, your hand cupping her cheek and giving her another peck before you pulled away.
"My turn," you said excitedly. You grabbed the smallest one, a square box delicately wrapped in an elegant-looking black wrapping paper with silver accents. "This looks neat," Leah chuckled, and you bit your lip in apprehension as you handed her your first present. Unlike you, Leah wasn't so delicate with unwrapping presents. She was all ripping and tearing, nothing graceful about her movements. She'd never been a patient one when it came to things like these, and in all fairness, you couldn't blame her. Forever a kid at heart, Leah loved presents.
You got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a faint gasp escaping your lover's throat. You searched Leah's eyes for any emotion but you couldn't read it, your heart starting to beat a little faster. "Babe, this is...," Leah inspected her present a little closer, "this is gorgeous." She carefully lifted the golden watch out of it's holder and held it in the light, the timepiece brightly reflecting the cozy hue in your apartment.
You'd first gotten the idea when you noticed Leah was online shopping the other day, looking for a new watch. You knew she liked to have a couple, alternating between them based on what outfit she'd wear. She'd been speaking about a new golden one for a while now, the one she had had lasted its time and she wanted a new one. Ever the observer, you'd made a mental note. A perfect Christmas gift.
Leah sported a bright smile, her gaze now pointed towards you. "Thank you, I've been looking at getting a new one, this is perfect," Leah took your hand in hers and gave it an appreciative squeeze, putting the watch back in it's holder and carefully placing the box back on the coffee table. "You could wear it with the black suit you have for New Year's Eve, it'd look really good," you said softly, Leah replying with nothing more than a suggestive wink.
Your blonde lover reached back over to the presents, grabbing a little silver bag and handing it to you. "We're staying in theme," Leah chuckled. You raised your eyebrows at her before your fingers made quick work of untying the knot, revealing a fine, silver necklace with a little L on. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you took in your present, admiring the way it glistened. "I know this seems like I'm basically claiming you, but I wouldn't have bought you this if you hadn't told me about a million times that you wanted one of these."
You let out a breathy laugh, throwing your head back against the couch. "Just for the record, I have no problem with you claiming me." You locked eyes with your girlfriend and saw a little twinkle in hers, to which you surged forward and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. "Thank you. You wanna help putting it on?" Leah nodded eagerly and twisted her body towards yours, clasping the necklace around your neck. Her fingers ghosted over the L that now hung between your collarbones. She kissed your lips once more, lingering a little before she pulled away again and sat upright.
Your next present for Leah was something you knew she'd be over the moon with. Arsenal through and through, your girlfriend had been collecting vintage Arsenal kits ever since you remember. Signed, worn, match kits, training kits, your wardrobe was full with her Arsenal memorabilia. There was one missing though, Arsenal's home shirt from the 2005/06 season, their last year at Highbury. You stumbled across it on Vinted a couple months ago and couldn't believe that it hadn't been picked up yet. The shirt was in perfect state, Thierry Henry's name and number splayed out on the back of it. You paid no mind to the price and ordered it immediately, knowing just how happy your girlfriend would be with it.
You passed her your second present. She felt around a little. "It's definitely clothing." She fumbled around a bit longer with the wrapping paper, before you interrupted. "Le, baby, how about you just open it and see what's inside instead of guessing." Her cheeks blushed a faint red but she complied nonetheless, once again very ungracefully tearing away at the wrapping paper.
Leah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she took sight of the burgundy shirt. You couldn't really tell with the lack of proper lighting in the room, but you swear you saw a couple unshed tears in her eyes. She quickly made work of the plastic layer around the shirt, holding it up in front of her. "Check the back," you said softly, reaching out towards your girlfriend and resting your hand on her leg that was slightly bouncing, testament to her excitement.
Leah turned the shirt around and you saw her smile growing impossibly bigger. "Babe, genuinely, what the fuck." You chuckled and shuffled closer to her, leaning your head on her shoulder and admiring the shirt along with her. "Nice one, eh?" Leah turned her face towards you and she cocked an eyebrow. "Nice? This isn't just 'nice', this is incredible," Leah scoffed. She turned the shirt back around, feeling the fabric, checking the label, as if she was still not sure whether this was real. "God, you've outdone yourself, y/n. I can't top this."
A smile tugged on the corners of your lips, pressing a soft kiss against Leah's cheek. "I knew you'd love it." Leah folded the shirt neatly and put it down on the coffee table next to the watch, turning her body towards yours. She cupped your cheeks and pressed a tender kiss against your lips, saying so much more than words could grasp. "You're amazing. I love you so much."
Leah pecked your lips another couple times before she retreated and set back against the armrest of the couch. "If I knew an Arsenal shirt was all it would take for you to be so expressive with you love, I wouldn't have waited this long," you said teasingly, earning a grunt and a playful swat at your thigh from your lover. "I am expressive with my love. Don't start on me!" A light giggle fell from your lips and waved away any further protest by grabbing Leah's hand and pressing a soft kiss against her palm. "You've got one more from me," Leah announced giddily, removing her hand from yours and grabbing the final present from the table. "This one's a bit more... sentimental."
You raised your eyebrows at your girlfriend, trying to read anything into her expression, but failing. "Sentimental...," you pried. "Yeah. Just open it. You'll see." You took the present from Leah's hands, the package laying relatively heavy in your hands. You carefully unwrapped it, each tear of the paper revealing a little more of Leah's final present. Eventually, you realized what it was. A handmade book of the last three years of your relationship. The book was littered with polaroids, screenshots of messages, souvenirs from places you went together, movie tickets, little notes you left for her to find on days you were out the country, and so many more. You could feel a stray tear making its way down your cheek as you scrolled your way through the book, catching it as quick as possible before it could fall on the paper and ruin anything. "Gosh, Leah,..." you mumbled, "sentimental is one way to put it, yeah," you said, muttering out the words past the obvious lump in your throat, sniffling a couple times as the memories unfolded underneath your fingers.
"You like it?" Leah's voice sounded small, and it almost agitated you, because you didn't even know how to begin voicing to her how much this meant to you. Leah wasn't one for the big romantic gestures, nor was she very showy with her affection, so for her to do something like this, to put so much time and effort into handcrafting this, it meant the world to you. You lifted your head and locked your gaze with your girlfriend's, a small frown etched between your eyebrows. "Le, please,..." you breathed, "do I like it?" You scoffed, and shook your head lightly at how ridiculous you found the question. "This means so much to me, Leah, you know that." You felt the blonde nudge a little closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder and looking at the polaroid your fingers seemed to linger on. "Remember that night?" she said softly, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder.
"Of course I do," you said matter-of-factly. It was a polaroid you'd taken on the first time Leah slept over at your apartment. You'd been over at hers plenty of times, but somehow her sleeping over at yours felt like a step up. She'd come over and brought your favorite Italian take-away. Initially you both insisted on cooking together, but a long day at respectively football and work lulled you both into the comfort of having a meal prepared for you. You lounged on the sofa for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing until you settled for watching a film wrapped in each other's embrace. Somewhere during the night, though, you felt like the air had shifted a little. Touches lingered a little longer, kisses were a little sloppier, leading to the first time you made love to one another later that night. It was messy, clumsy and very nervous, but it was perfect. Perfect, because it was yours.
The memories flooded your mind and you couldn't help the jolt of arousal that coursed through your body upon remembering the events of that night. You leaned your head against Leah's, pressing a kiss against her temple. "As much as I would love to look through all of this right now, I've got one last present for you," you said softly, coaxing her head off your shoulder, carefully closing the handmade book and placing it on the coffee table. You tried to ignore the little insecurity that crept underneath your skin when you thought about Leah's final present. Deep down, you knew she'd love it, but you always felt a little apprehensive about things like this. The lingerie was one thing, the lap dance you were planning on giving her a whole other. "Another one? But it's not on the table?" Leah's eyes scanned around the room, clearly confused as to where you could've hidden another present. "It's not there, Le," you chuckled at the expression on her face. "It's upstairs. You stay here, I'll be right back," you put a hand on her chest and gave her lips a chaste kiss, standing up from the couch and making your way up the stairs before she could quip back a response.
You thanked your former self for having already put on the lingerie before Leah came home this afternoon, one less thing to worry about now in your nervous state. You slipped off Leah's your hoodie and sweatpants you'd been wearing, your girlfriend insisting that she wanted you to spend tonight in cozy clothing. You braved a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, and you felt some of the insecurities melt away. You looked good. The lingerie hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all the curves you knew Leah loved so much. The longline bra was snug around your waist, the lace perfectly outlining the curve of your breasts. The thin red bottoms left little to the imagination, the waistband – accentuated with a little ribbon – just underneath your belly button. They gave prominence to your strong, tanned legs, likely your favorite thing about this set. You gave yourself an appreciative nod and pulled a robe out of your shared wardrobe, draping it over your half-naked body, giving Leah an extra layer to take off. You quickly decided to also pull a pair of red heels out of your wardrobe, putting them on and making your way out of the bedroom before you could doubt your choice of footwear. You stood at the edge of the stairs and took a steadying breath before you started making your way down. The clicking of your heels alerted Leah immediately, not able to delay her seeing you until you were downstairs.
Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in your outfit, and she put her phone down that she was mindlessly scrolling on to pass some time while you were upstairs. You could see a little glint in her eyes as you took the final step of the stairs, making your way back over to the couch at a tantalizingly slow pace. The air had most definitely shifted, Leah's intense gaze locking with yours as you slowed to a stop right in front of her. A smile tugged at your lips and you grabbed Leah's chin between your thumb and index finger, coaxing her face up towards yours and pressing a dizzying kiss against her lips. "I told you I had one final present," you mumbled against her mouth. "Why don't you discover what's underneath this robe?" You softly bit Leah's bottom lip as you let go of her lips, a lust-filled haze now clouding her eyes as she thought about what could be underneath the robe.
Leah's fingers made quick work of the knot tied around your waist, leaving the piece of clothing to fall to the ground, revealing your lingerie. "Oh," Leah's breath hitched in her throat and you would've grown insecure about her reaction if you hadn't seen the twinkle in her eyes. You were hit by a flurry of confidence and you twirled around, shaking your ass a little while your back was facing her before you turned back to face her. "Fuck, babe, this is..." Your girlfriend's words got caught in her throat as she let her eyes rake over your body once more, making sure she wasn't dreaming. You'd worn lingerie for her a couple times, after she had voiced how much she'd love it if you tried a couple sets. But never had it been a thing outside of the bedroom. You'd worn lingerie sets, worn sets underneath robes for her to discover, but it always happened in the comfort of your own bed. This, though, was a next step. A slight blush coated your cheeks as you felt Leah's intense gaze on you. She reached out one of her hands and looked up to you apprehensively, "Can I?" A smile tugged at your lips and you let out a light chuckle. "I'm all yours."
Leah's hands roamed all over your body, from your waist, to your thighs, to your lace-covered breasts, your calves, your ass, your girlfriend didn't leave a spot untouched. It wasn't long before her touches grew needy, and you put a hand against her chest to stop her, not wanting the rest of her surprise to get lost in her own excitement. "Le, wait," you said. Her eyes flicked up to yours, and you noticed how wide her pupils had gotten. A smirk made its way onto your face as to what would happen next. "You've been so good to me. Let me do this for you, okay?" You didn't await Leah's response. Instead you pulled Leah forward a little, and turned your body around, spreading your legs sitting yourself down on her lap. You couldn't ignore the doubts that crept in your mind about what you were doing, because you had never done anything like this. You'd sat on Leah's lap, plenty of times, but you'd never given her a lap dance. You did your research, naturally, you even watched a couple videos – although you had to click those off due to the abundance of secondhand embarrassment you experienced. Either way, you tried to calm your nerves by thinking how much Leah would love this, no matter how good you were at it. She never failed to voice her love for your bum.
Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you leaned your back against Leah's chest and gave a tentative roll of your hips against her lap. The slight hitch of your girlfriend's breath didn't go unnoticed to you and it gave you the fire in your belly to continue your ministrations. You started grinding your hips against hers in a steady but slow rhythm. You alternated between moves, gently bouncing up and down Leah's lap or popping your hips every now and then, every reaction you pulled out of your girlfriend fueling your confidence. You could sense Leah was a bit unsure as to what to do with her hands, but as the time went on and she felt herself getting more and more aroused, she started guiding your body along with her hands. She aided your movements, pushing you down against her hips, loving the way your behind brushed her core with every gyration of your hips.
A couple moments passed and an idea popped into your mind. You leaned back into your girlfriend, your head resting on her shoulder as you looked up towards her and your gazes locked, a small frown etched on your face that was driving Leah wild. You locked lips with her and you couldn't hold back the breathy moan that escaped your lips at the feeling of her mouth against yours. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, and it perfectly encapsulated the building pressure between the both of you. You tried moving your hips in an eight-figure, which pulled a groan from your girlfriend. "You're driving me crazy," Leah whispered into your ear, softly nipping at your earlobe as she kept her hands firmly on your waist.
You let out a breathy laugh that soon turned into a whimper as Leah's hands moved up towards your breasts, palming them and placing kisses against your back as you rolled your hips back into hers. One of your arms was placed on Leah's thighs, holding yourself up, and you threw the other around your girlfriend's neck, letting your nails rake over the skin on the back of her neck. Your moves grew frantic as you felt arousal building in your core, your gyrations less measured and less precise, the more Leah's hands started to wander all over your body. Any remnants of your earlier insecurity long washed away, you were more than pleased with how your final present for your girlfriend turned out. "God, Le, you feel so good," you breathed out as you let your head fall to her shoulder once again, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. A particularly harsh thrust of your hips against hers caused Leah to groan again, digging her fingers into your sides as she whispered in your ear.
"Bedroom. Now."
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso imagine#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#arsenal wfc#england wnt#lionesses
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Hi could you write some angst about a deeply insecure reader who hates her appearance and is sort of friends with Elena and everyone(pushed to the side kind of relationship)but when klaus comes around it’s clear that she has a crush but believes he’s out of her league then klaus uses it to his advantage by showing an interest in her for information and helps her with her self worth.klaus then starts to develop feelings for her but then it’s revealed that he was just manipulating her and reader is devastated and utterly humiliated and it sets her back to how she was before him.(sorry if that was a really long explanation,you can decide the ending)thanks I love your writing btw
Real
Growing up in Mystic Falls is a bizarre experience.
There were town events almost every month where you had to dress up and act better than everyone, parents basically had a competition over who had the prettiest daughters or the most handsome sons.
Not my parents.
They didn't think I was good enough to even pretend that I could compete. I was told my worth from a young age and became more aware of it with time. When your own parents don't think you're good enough it's sort of an eye-opener if you will.
It didn't help that everyone in this town seemed to be born into modelling.
Somehow I was lucky enough to wind up 'friends' with people like Elena, Caroline and Bonnie but I knew I didn't belong with them. Somehow they were gorgeous enough to get whatever they wanted.
Sometimes I wondered if everyone else at the age of 17 looked like them and I was behind or if somewhere, I was above average. I doubted it. A lot.
Occasionally I would look at a mirror and think that I wasn't even that bad to look at. There was nothing particularly ugly about me, there just wasn't anything special. I looked plain in a way, bland and forgettable.
I was very forgettable actually. My 'friends' made that abundantly clear throughout the years when they would go out without me or forget to ask if I also wanted something or liked something.
Somehow I was of no value to them. Perhaps I was simply there to amplify their beauty. Like a DUFF. I was definitely the DUFF.
Damon actually told me that I was once, after Tyler had made the joke and Damon asked what it meant. Even though I already knew it to be true, to be told it was much worse.
You could sort of tell everyone else was thinking it, especially when I was stood beside Caroline.
Stefan was the only one who was nice but I wasn't sure if it was out of pity or just because that was who he was. Then again, I'd rather just not know.
So I tried my best to keep in the background, avoid attention and stay out the way.
Even with all the vampire and werewolf drama that took course, I kept myself quiet and to the side. Strangely it was Katherine who was kind to me, whether she had an ulterior motif I'm not so sure anymore but she never hurt me in the time she was there. Neither did Elijah when he came to town, he was polite to everyone but it was obvious that my presence was irrelevant to him.
And then of course, Klaus arrived.
I didn't officially meet him until the senior prank night, he sort of just threw to the side and told me to keep my mouth closed and not to bother running because he'd just kill me. Part of me thought about running anyway so he would just end it but I didn't.
Klaus dragged me by my wrist into his car, told me to keep quiet while he drove Elena to the hospital. For whatever reason he brought me along and left me in the car as he went to drain her of blood for his hybrids. I did as told: sat silently and waited.
He came back out and spoke to Damon for a moment, I saw them glance over in my direction only for Damon to laugh and smirk. I sighed to myself and got out the car. It was clear that Klaus thought I could be a good pawn but was surly mistaken and Damon told him to do whatever he wanted to me. In response I walked home, neither noticed so it was fine.
A week or so later he came back, crashed homecoming or something? I dunno, I wasn't there but I was told about it the next day via a stroppy Caroline.
It was that same day that he came and sat beside me at the grill. I ignored him for the most part, confused by his attempt at what I could only guess was flirting? I wasn't really sure. I think he could tell.
"Not easily impressed are you love?" he questioned as he leant forward, uncomfortably close. I sort of just looked at him, still unsure to what he wanted. A smirk pulled at the end of his lips and his hand lifted, his fingers wrapping around a piece of my hair making frown and pull away abruptly. Without hesitation I stood up and spun on my heel, going to leave. His laugh followed me and a hand grabbed my waits, it was stange.
"Calm down love, It's not like I was going to rip it out, I just wondered what it felt like" he chuckled, pulling my back flush against his front making me tense and squirm.
"It feels like hair" I stated simply "Now get off" I grunted, shoving my elbow into his side to make him let go. I kept walking, keeping my eyes on the ground.
The next time I saw him he apologised for the previous encounter which again, i didn't understand but there was no point in questioning and arguing so I just accepted it and tried to leave but he asked if I'd stay for one drink, he asked so nicely and he smiled. I was stupid enough to think it was genuine and accepted.
Looking back it was pretty obvious that this was a game for him or a trap, whatever you want to label it but in the moment I ignored what was right in my face. Deep down I knew it was all a joke of sorts really.
But no boy, let alone a man had shown me this sort of attention and the soft fluttering it made me feel had me staying for far too long. I listened to his little stories and asked a range of questions as the drinks kept coming. He asked a couple about me but i gave relatively vague answers. There wasn't much I had to give him on me, I wasn't up for a pity party about friends and I didn't really fancy talking about my shitty parents either. I think Klaus picked up on the fact that I didn't really want to talk about me and eventually gave up with it.
It was late when I realised I needed to get home and he offered to take me which I admit made me wary. I didn't want him to kidnap me and think I'd be any good as leverage again, though I guess Damon made that pretty clear already. I decided to just walk home which he eventually accepted and got into his car.
Walking by myself probably wasn't my best option after drinking so much in one go but I made it home with minimal stumbling. My mother shook her head when she saw me and asked what was wrong with me. When she realised I had been drinking her mind jumped to two very different conclusions. The first being that I was being a slut which was ironic as in the past she'd made it clear that no guy would want to sleep with me, and the second being that I had taken pills to kill myself.
Listening to her drastic thinking made me wonder what kind of pills she was on but I didn't question it and waited for my father to come and take her to bed, telling her to just ignore me. Then I proceeded to make my way to the bathroom, getting changed and washing my face before going to my bed.
My phone dinged making me sigh, thinking it was Elena asking me to help her with something dumb and life threatening however much to my surprise it was Klaus. A smile involuntarily spread across my face and we messaged back and forth before he told me to rest.
The following few days he would just check in. Not too much but he also made it clear that he hadn't forgotten me which was all I had ever truly wanted from someone. To be acknowledged at the very least.
Of course I didn't tell the others that he had been talking to me, besides they didn't ask so I didn't see why I should. I guess I just wanted something for myself.
I wasn't completely stupid. I always had the feeling that he was using me, especially towards the start...but he was just so wonderful with his words and his ways.
When he began to make and buy sweet gifts and claim they were tokens of his affection, I couldn't help the blush on my face. When he would find a way to have his skin against mine, or how he would pick up my hand and gently tug my along. Somehow we always seemed to end up somewhere for food, and he would always refuse to let me pay.
Something about him was so enticing, addictive if you will.
He began to make me feel a certain way. He made me warm and happy. His touch was so soft, it made me feel like I was buzzing. i was stupid for thinking he could feel the same way about me.
I had been so scared to admit my feelings.
He had assured me that he would never push me to.
He told me that he liked me, that he didn't want me to be frightened of him or nervous around him. "Not unless it's the sort of nervous that puts butterflies in your stomach sweetheart" he had teased and my cheeks had glowed red.
Over the space of months his presence never lessoned. He always made time to see me, and speak with me. I found myself longing for his voice, his touch.
On days where he was too busy at home, he would urge me to come over. I would spend as long as I possibly could with him, a few times I even stayed over but he had slept on top of the duvet so that I would feel comfortable.
This had gone on for a small while until he actually said the words 'I love you'.
Perhaps I was just so happy to actually hear those words. Maybe I believed them to be true, real. Or I just saw what I wanted to see, heard what I wanted to hear and ignored the rest.
The time I gave myself to him used to make my smile and blush. Now it just makes me feel dirty, humiliated and embarrassed.
Knowing that he could and has had his hands all over my body, his lips and eyes. In the moment I felt like a goddess, probably because that’s what he told me I was. The memory of him inside me haunts me. I had thought it to be such a beautiful experience, romantic and personal.
I wish I could say that I had slept with him only once but as the months went by we would share intimacy often.
I had even told him that I loved him, so many times and I meant it for all of them.
So you should understand why it was so hard to accidentally hear him tell his sister that he had been compelling me for any information on the others.
It had felt as though my heart had stopped when the words hit my ears and tears already made my eyes burn. I heard a weak laugh and turned my head to see Damon, strung up by chains whilst bleeding all over, looking straight back at me.
“Y/n…” I heard Klaus’s voice, his tone one of panic or maybe it was just surprise. He probably didn’t want me to know of his routine. Damon only rolled his eyes and gave me look,
“You didn’t…think it was real, right?” He coughed, a cruel smile on his face.
His words just made me quieter. They made me think. Why did I think it was real?
My eyes slowly lifted to meet Klaus’s. I could see and feel Rebekah looking at me, everyone was silent. Even Damon shut up for a second. I think maybe he was expecting me to say something but I didn’t really have anything to tell him.
As awful as it all made me feel, and even with the amount of emotions swallowing me, I felt more disappointed in myself than I did him.
My right hand went to my left arm, pinching my skin through my jumper in some sort of hope that I’d wake up from some stupid nightmare but it didn’t work.
The first tear fell from my eye and I sniffed to keep the other ones from coming.
Klaus just looked at me, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, I didn’t want to know either. I could just guess anyway.
So without a word I just turned around and left, walking quickly back out the door before breaking into a sprint in the direction of my house. I could feel the mascara running down my face, ruining the foundation I had only recently started wearing, for Klaus’s benefit.
My hands wiped at the tears as I pushed my from door shut behind me and went upstairs, blocking out the annoyed voices of my parents and locking myself in my room.
It was only once I was in the shower that I was flooded with memories. That I remembered all the things I had done with him. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom my skin was scrubbed raw in an attempt to wash his touch away. Even the slightest touch made me feel as though my body was burning, stinging with pain but I would have rather felt that every day than have to realise Klaus had been using me for over a year now.
I was curled in my bed, hidden under the blankets and surrounded by the dark as I let every comment not matter how small or petty play back through my mind.
I wasn’t even sure who to be upset with. I chose myself.
Klaus must’ve known I was an easy target. Desperate. I wonder how much he’s had me tell him. To be fair I knew more than you’d expect about what was going on. I had gotten good at observing and overhearing so I still knew what was going on, even when spending so much time with Klaus himself.
I also wondered what else he had compelled me to do. I hoped he wouldn’t do anything other than ask questions but I couldn’t help that fear creep inside me. It made me sick to my stomach, and then I wondered if he would just wait to compel me again so that I could continue to be his information feeder.
The idea made my fingers dig into my arm, bruising the skin purple but I wouldn’t stop. I only did so that I could go get some vervain that I kept downstairs in one of the cupboards at the back. I was reaching for the little glass bottle when I heard a door close. I spun around quickly to see Klaus in the doorway of my kitchen. My hand clutched onto the vervain tightly and I noticed his eyes glance at it briefly. His hands went up as if to show no harm but there was no way I would believe that meant a thing.
“Sweetheart- listen to me..” he began and I let out a breathless laugh
“Get out” I whispered making him sigh and frown as though he had the audacity to be upset or annoyed.
“Y/n..”
“No Klaus. I’m fucking serious, get out.” I told him, my eyes watering again. I let out an involuntary whimper when he stepped forward making him stop and stand still.
“I never meant for you to know that” he whispered and I frowned, swiping a tear away.
“Sorry I ruined your plan” I mumble, exhausted.
“No- no I didn’t mean it like that- I meant that-“
“Klaus it’s fine” I murmur, avoiding his eye, “It’s fine, I get it. You needed to know what was happening, you got to be two steps ahead. I’d appreciate if you just found someone else now please”
I could feel his stare on me, it make my skin itch and I just needed him to go. I could feel my hand getting clammy as I held onto the bottle.
“I haven’t compelled you in such a long time” he muttered, as though maybe that made it better. “I used to, but I truly have fallen for you Y/n. I love-“
“Please get out” I cut him off, my spare hand resting on my forehead to cover my eyes.
“I love you”
“No you don’t” I cry, “you wouldn’t do this to someone you love. I know you don’t love me. You never have and you never could. You’re just pretending again so I’ll let you control me, I don’t like it” I whimper, tears streaming again. I could hear him getting closer but I was already against the counter and I couldn’t out run him. There was no point in trying.
“Sweetheart, I’ll never use you again-“ he tried to argue but I couldn’t listen to it.
“I really, really need you to leave. Please Klaus just get out, I can’t stand you” I tell him honestly and for a second as I look up at him, he looks almost sad but I have to assume it’s still apart of his act.
“You- you’re not going to do anything…anything harmful are you? To yourself, I mean.” He asked and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. I should never have told him that I’d had those thoughts or feelings once. I shouldn’t have ever said a word to him.
“No…now go away” I whisper, my hands trembling as I stared at the ground, listening to his footsteps eventually get further away.
I knew there was no way I could sleep, he was probably still outside my house. Waiting.
I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for but I could him there.
I had no idea what I was going to do.
#angst no happy ending#tvdu angst#klaus mikaelson angst#angst no comfort#klaus mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diaries#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikealson fanfiction#klaus mikaelson one shot#klaus mikaleson imagine#elijah mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#the vampire diares imagine#kol mikaelson#niklaus imagines#niklaus mikaelson#tvd klaus#klaus m#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus michaelson#tvd universe#hope mikaelson#klaus mikaelson headcanon#klaus mikaelson fluff#klaus mikaelson yandere#klaus mikealson smut#klaus mikaelson x yn#klaus mikealson x reader#tvd fanfiction
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TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2
Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.
Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
I fucked up.
You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.
I fucked up so baaaaaad.
Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.
You tried to view your options here.
I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?
I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?
No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.
You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.
A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."
Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.
You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.
"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."
"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.
"I said, no." You said sternly.
"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"
"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.
-
You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-
Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."
Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.
"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"
"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.
Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.
"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."
Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.
"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.
He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."
You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."
"You never- never asked me to marry you."
"Huh? But I did today-"
"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.
Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?
He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"
"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.
"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.
"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"
"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.
Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.
"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."
Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.
Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.
"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!
"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"
"I believe you."
What? Just like that.
"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"
"Why? We still have to get married."
You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"
Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."
You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"
"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.
"The church wont allow it-"
"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.
"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"
Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?
"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.
"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.
He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."
You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.
"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.
"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.
Does he not listen?
"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.
And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."
You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.
You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.
"You can still go and eat dinner alone."
With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."
You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"
Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."
His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"
-
The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.
The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.
Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.
Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.
You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-
Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?
After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.
"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.
"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?
"No. I dont want to wear them."
The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.
"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.
"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."
Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.
"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."
"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.
The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"
A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.
"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.
"What kitchen incident?"
"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."
Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.
You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."
The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.
"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.
The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.
Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.
-
As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.
"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.
"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."
She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."
Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.
"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"
"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.
"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.
"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"
For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.
"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.
Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"
Wait.
"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.
You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!
You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.
"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.
A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"
"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"
"They- they're burning it-"
"WHERE?!"
"The gardens!"
You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.
There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.
"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.
"Princess-" they began bowing.
"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.
"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.
The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.
But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.
No. No. No. No. No. NO!
You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.
Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.
The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.
Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.
"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.
"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.
"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.
-
Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.
Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.
A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.
It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.
"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"
You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.
You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."
"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"
"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.
"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"
"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.
"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"
"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.
"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."
You looked at him in confusion.
"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."
Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.
What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.
Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?
Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?
Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."
"As you wish... Baldwin."
-
Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?
Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.
Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!
Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.
"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."
Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"
You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"
He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.
Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.
He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.
He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."
"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.
His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."
"Blandishment?"
"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.
You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"
"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.
You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.
"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"
Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"
He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."
"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."
You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.
But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"
Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.
Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.
Finally, he smiled.
"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."
Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)
Part 3 is here.
#yandere baldwin#yandere king baldwin#male yandere#yandere male#yandere x reader#yandere x#yandere x darling#yandere#baldwin iv
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seungmin x fem!reader
synopsis: you walk in on your best friend getting off with your name on his lips.
warnings: 🔞!!! slight nipple play, no protection, mentions of masturbation (m!) prob forgot some sorry
wc: 2.2k
an: thank you so much for requesting izzy! ilysm for this one I hope I did it justice :))))) also this is not proofread will you bestow mercy on a poor soul like me? please?
[m.list] [1kevent m.list]
The two of you keep a huge whiteboard calendar on the fridge. A discarded pack of colorful markers was kept in the magnetic cup next to the handle, the sounding rattle synonymous with the closing of the door. Every month the two of you got together to fill out your class schedules, events, holidays, vacations, or just chores. It made both of your lives easier, the two of you knew exactly when the other was going to be late home, fewer arguments over who does what to keep the place clean, and when it was best to just fit in a full series binge on the couch together.
Or it was supposed to work that way and for the most part, it did. But last week when the two of you hosted a study night with all your friends that devolved into just casual drinks and video games, half the board was erased when someone bumped into the fridge. Neither of you minded, trying the best you could to write in the parts that had been messed up, not giving it much thought at all until you finally hit the week that had been completely erased and rewritten.
Seungmin missed a paper that was due, both of your laundry days ended up written for the same day, and you were now rushing out the door to make it to your presentation. You hadn't started the day so stressed, not until you rolled out of bed and opened the fridge to pull out something to eat for breakfast. As soon as you closed the door, markers shaking around reminding you to check the calendar, you noticed the messy star you had drawn on the date, and under it project due! Presentation @ 9:30.
It was like a bucket of ice water was thrown over you, no caffeine needed for how away you suddenly felt looking at the clock on the microwave, blinking back that it was already half past eight and it took you 30 minutes to make it to campus.
Your string of curse words was what woke Seungmin. The rushed sound of the bathroom faucet turning on while you brushed your teeth was the soundtrack to his morning. He was still rubbing at his eyes, hair a sleep-turned mess on top of his head, when he watched you from the doorway. You were frantically rummaging through the dryer for a pair of jeans, only coming away with articles of Seungmin’s clothing. “What is this? Why is all my laundry also your laundry?”
“I don't know,” he yawns, face scrunching up right along the bridge of his nose, “I think it all got tossed into the dryer together because mine didn't dry right,”
You huffed, finally tugging out something that was yours to wear, “I'm going to be late,” it was said right on the edge of a whine, “stupid calendar, stupid early class, I'm never taking a course against that starts before I can think properly about school,” you didn't even care that he was right there as you pushed down your sweatpants. Working on putting one leg into your jeans as you kept complaining.
The two of you had been living together for most of your time at school, the two of you close enough now that nothing phased the other. It wasn't like changing in front of your best friend was uncommon but it still caught Seungmin off guard every time. He turned to give you some sort of privacy but the way the bathroom/laundry was set up only made it so that he turned to look directly into the mirror. And there you were with your jeans getting caught right under your ass, pushing up and only highlighting the way your panties clung to your skin.
It was momentary, so fast that you were already zipping your zipper and rushing past him to grab your bag. “I won't be back till one!” you call over your shoulder, not trusting the calendar to update him anymore.
You didn't even realize until halfway to campus when calling your partner to apologize for the delay that your calendar wasn't just messed up with the day's events but the day itself. It wouldn't be until you got home that you saw that the whole week was one day off, so when you turned around feeling slightly better after your little shock, it felt like you had a whole free day. Not even texting Seungmin about the mistake you drove to pick up coffees for the both of you, knowing he would enjoy the pick me up without question. Then you could spend the rest of the day separating your laundry so tomorrow you could wear something less rushed.
But Seungmin had the same idea, picking through the dryer trying to find anything that was his so that he could get it out of your way. That's when he finds the twin pair of panties to the ones you had on right now. He could see it play out again in his head, the way they hugged your hips, and outlined the shape of you.
He told himself his crush on you wouldn't become a big deal after you two moved in with each other. He assumed that just having you so close so often would be enough for him to grow out of it faster. He believed it because he would have had less time to daydream about how you would react to him and more time in reality where you would surely put him into his palace without question. Only it didn't seem to work out that well.
The two of you were constantly on the edge of flirting, sitting so close on the couch you were basically on top of one another, every little brush past each other like a confession. Or it was for him because his crush only got worse with the move; solidifying into something that he knew would never easily dissipate without the hottest of burns.
It wasn't rare that he let himself get this wrapped up in the idea of being with you, less so the idea of being with you physically. And now you're gone for the next few hours and he has the perfect image of you in his head.
He doesn't even hear when you get home, didn't even think to close his bedroom door before his hand was down his pants. He could picture you calling out his name, his eyes closed, head leaning back on his pillows, your name on the tip of his tongue as he moaned.
When you come in and place the coffees down you hear him call you. Your first instinct is to change the calendar until you hear him call you again. He sounds almost in pain, the desperation drawing you down the hall. “Seungmin?”
When you get to the doorway you're stopped dead in your tracks. His needy little whines echo in his room, adam's apple bobbing, every stroke of his hand on his cock pulling your eyes in. You should be ashamed for enjoying the view, should have backed away, and pretended you never came home. But with him right in front of you, naked and calling out your name it's impossible to not feel yourself get wet. It's embarrassing how easily flushed you feel, but when his hips start to move, effectively thrusting into his waiting fist, stomach flexing, you can't help but rub your thighs together.
It's the creaking of the floorboards that makes him open his eyes. His hand fell away from his straining cock, his uneven breaths trying to catch up to the beating of his heart. You're not even looking him in the eyes, you're watching the way his cock is twitching, thoroughly edged now that you've walked in, his hips still moving, wishing so badly to be thrusting into you instead.
“I'm sorry-” the both of you start at the same time, he can't even cover himself knowing a brush of fabric or his hand will make him cum instantly unless he calms down. He can't even think about how ashamed he should be when getting caught, all he can think about is those panties you're wearing under your jeans.
It's only one second later and you're tugging them down your legs, pants too tight now, the seam pressing right against your clit like it knows you want him whether he touches you or not. He's whimpering at the sight, wet patch visible enough to make his eyes roll back.
Damn the consequences of your actions you climb into bed with him.
“What- we shouldn’t- you don’t have to-” he starts but stops when he watches you take off your bra, nipples already pebbled and waiting for his touch.
“If you don’t want to have sex with me just say so,” even just hearing the words ‘sex’ from your mouth has his dick twitching again.
“I need to have sex with you,” he reaches out for you, pulling you down to straddle him, your clothed pussy pressed right against his veiny shaft, the both of you moaning out for one another. He sits up, hands sliding up your back as he looks up at you; puppy dog eyes already begging for more.
You push his hair back from his brow, threading your fingers into the strands, his hazy smile mirroring your own. “Do you usually think about me when you touch yourself or did I just catch you on a good day?”
“I'm always thinking about you,” he breathes, pulling your lips to his. The kiss turns sloppy almost as soon as it's started, your hips working against him enough to draw every little sound from him. When he starts to kiss down your neck you lift your hips enough to push your panties to the side for him.
Your hand on his cock guiding his tip to your entrance makes him curse, finally sinking into you, all your wetness making it so easy, the stretch leaving you gasping. Both of you wrapped up in each other's arms as you try to catch your breath from the new sensations. It's intoxicating to feel him this deep, your dragging hips pushing him right against your gummy walls.
His mouth peppers kisses down your chest, catching one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue, moaning when you squeeze around him. Your knees are digging into the mattress as you try to bounce on him, thighs burning. His hands slide down to cup your ass, helping you move up and down on him. His lashes flutter with each drag in and out of you, better than he could have ever imagined or replicated with his hand.
Letting go of your nipple he watches your face now adorned in blissful pleasure. He feels his orgasm building but not as fast as he wants. He falls back against the pillows, pulling you with him, one of your hands catching yourself next to his head, he holds you in place as he digs his feet into the sheets, thrusting up in this new position.
“Oh my god-” you're finding it hard to even speak, now every thrust is pressed against your g-spot, the tip of his cock knocking over and over until you're almost shaking. With your free hand, you reach down between you two, fingers circling your clit as Seungmin twists your panties into his fist trying to find as much leverage as possible to keep his fast pace.
“Look at me,” he’s begging, needing to know you're right on the cusp with him, the slapping wet sounds ringing out around you two. “Please I want to see your pretty face when you cum for me,”
The request alone has you falling over the edge, the silent open-mouthed moan caught on your lips pulling him right along with you. He's a mess of whiny cries, sloppy thrusts slowing down as he tries to push his hips as close as he can get them to yours. Not even caring about having finished inside you when he feels this good.
Your arm gives out as you bury your face into his neck, your hot breath fanning over his sweat-sheened skin. The two of you instantly break out into giggles, the absurdity of the situation only just settling in while he's still twitching inside you.
“Holy shit,” he chuckles, fingers dragging over your bare back like he can't believe you're really here in his post nut clarity.
“I know, I can't believe you’ve been just across the hall this whole time and I'm just now finding out the dick was this good,”
“If I'd known you would have helped out I would have left the door open a long time ago. But what are you even doing at home right now?”
“The calendar was all messed up, no thanks to you, you said you took care of it!”
“I did! Or I thought I did,”
you roll your eyes even if he can't see, and you leave another kiss right over his pulse, “well it doesn't matter, what does matter is that we should definitely schedule sex on the the calendar next time,”
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COERCION, AND OTHER SUCH TENDENCIES
Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | Longing for you seems to have become a daily habit for Arthur as of late, amidst work and rest, and while he could honestly say watching you from a distance was enticing enough, there were a few things he desired more. Tags | fluff, a pining Arthur (as per usual) Word Count | 4.8k A/N | Hello again, lovelies! I wrote together a shorter fic about Arthur that's a bit more lighthearted than the stuff I usually write. Hope you like it! <3 By the way, feel free to throw in some requests if you'd like <3
It was smooth—so smooth, like thick honey filling his ears, soothing every ache and doubt, every pain and hardship. Like cough drops eased his throat, your voice found its way into his head, numbing his mind until it turned to a sickly syrup when the familiar, bashful laugh quietly filled the air. He damned every bird that sang, every crow that cawed, despised Swanson’s drunken rambling, for it distorted your soft murmurs, keeping him from imagining you were right beside him, whispering the words in his ears instead.
A soundless chuckle left Arthur as he realized the absurdity of his thoughts when he, for once, let them drift away, unwilling yet drawn to them. He couldn’t deny, though, that there was a certain allure to think of you this way, to direct any thoughts that could be even remotely romantic to something so good—so pure. Longing and a fair bit of desperation were surely in play, ever the dreamer and, more often than not, a procrastinator.
“Fool, Morgan,” he mumbled under his breath, shaking his head to rid himself of these thoughts when his imagination became so vivid he could almost feel the touch of your hands on his skin.
The gazing sun blazed unforgivingly when he opened his eyes, a shudder running through him when you could be heard closer than before. He basked in your voice’s rich, hushed tones as your figure appeared before him through the trees separating you. Droopy eyes followed along your silhouette as you slowly passed him in the distance, sinfully following along the tiny show of curves your clothes allowed. Against his will, they drifted to the place where your apron had been tied tighter than usual, following along the cotton until they caressed the part where your dress pushed against your bosom, squinting his eyes to try and see the supple flesh that now seemed so inviting, so soft and heavenly.
His lids closed once more when warmth started seeping into his veins, bringing his arm to rub against them so the image of you would wishfully leave. Utterly and fascinatingly dumbfounded is where you had brought him, whether you were aware of it or not, and while he could honestly say it was unlikely you were, somewhere he damned you for bringing him to his knees so effortlessly. Who would have thought he could plow through men easily, neither afraid nor with an ounce of difficulty, yet somehow, you made him feel both of those things the moment you crossed his mind.
It was absurd, really, and Arthur was not a man familiar with the sole thought of being uncomfortable. Yet, you managed to make his skin prickle until it felt like bugs scattered through his body, so distraught—barely recognizing himself when your eyes found his, both mind and body limp.
“Oh, Arthur,” Startled, he perked up by the sudden noise, blinking a few times as he removed his arm that had shielded him from the evening sun. Quickly, you leaned down over him where he had perched himself against a tree, deciding that snoozing away would be the most productive way to spend the rest of his day, even though the bark scratched against his sore back— the distant howling of Reverend irritating his ears.
“How did this happen?” Nimble fingers found their way to his cheek, lifting his face so you could inspect him thoroughly. A look so displeased formed on your face that if anyone else had been the reason for it, he wouldn’t hesitate a second to bury them ten feet underground. He almost chuckled at the thought, all too aware of your hatred for bodily harm and other such nonsense Arthur himself saw as chicken feed. Yet, he couldn’t help it; it was entirely too endearing for him to belittle you for it, finding your immense vexation heart-warming—when it was directed at him, of course.
Your soothing caress, though, reminded him of the throbbing pain that pinched his jaw, and as he moved it to get rid of the stiff sensation, he hissed, downplaying it by tilting his hat further down, relaxing against the tree. He did not care to remove your hand, though, secretly basking in the softness of your skin against his tender, pulsating one—tongue growing limp in his mouth as his mind grew blank, losing the art of speaking he otherwise had quite a knack for.
“Ain’t nothin’,” he mumbled, sleep lingering in his voice. It wasn’t just nothing, and he was pretty sure you knew that, too, because he could almost hear the way your brows furrowed at his seemingly grumpy answer.
You only sighed, frowning deeply when your hands left his cheeks to grab his hat, which you carefully put on the moss-filled ground. Softly, your fingers brushed the sweaty strands of his hair from his forehead, flattening out the harsh lines that had almost become a consistent part of his face by now.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” you retorted, sitting on your knees to better examine his purple bruise. “Is it sore? You’ve bled, you know.”
He could almost laugh at the worry that laced your words, hidden behind your careful wording. How very usual, and not any less unbecoming of you to notice every scratch and cut on his skin like your eyes could see through clothes and metal. More than that, he was still bewildered that you could see deeper than that, through both flesh and bone, like you had skinned him alive and examined every part of him. It was, to many extents, terrifying—being so bare and naked in someone’s presence, even though he was clothed to the till.
“Mmh,” he ruffed out a sound of acknowledgment. He was too deep in thought to feel your stare, which should have made the hair on his body stand straight up in fright if his eyes weren’t closed. More so, he grew lost in how your fingers caressed his face, stomach almost turning upside down when they found their way to his hair, dragging through the honey-blonde strands.
“Long day?” You had to admit defeat, deciding that irritating an already grumpy Arthur would ruin both yours and his day. Although you were still not pleased he kept the reason for his beaten face from you, but when it came to Arthur, it could have been all of the above. You should have become used to it, but it grew more complicated to deal with as time passed, just as it did having to ponder his whereabouts. Not once did he tell you of his misfortunes; the only way it would get through to you was from the other’s talking—surprised faces turning towards you when they figured Arthur never let you in on their daily business and various mishaps in the form of bruising and worse, a red, dark liquid only you seemed to find distressful among your dear friends.
A huff was your only answer, and as you gazed at him for a few seconds, you could almost believe he’d gone back to sleep. Slowly, a small smile grew on your face, all too aware that he’d not been back at camp for a few days, which was surely the reason for his aloof nature, deeming it a valid reason for snoozing off. Truly, he wanted nothing more than to feel the grasp of slumber pull him back down, but sleep could never rival you, and the tender touches you left on his skin made him believe he might be dreaming. But again, most of his dreams these days consisted of you, whether of the nightmarish sort or not.
As your fingers graze his scalp, a shudder runs through his body, his thoughts cast far away, fingers twitching where they lay at his side, itching to reach out to you and to pull you into his arms so he could feel your body against his—feel the skin that hid underneath your clothes. Or, perhaps, he should say those damned clothes, which hugged your body so beautifully. Arthur often wondered if you were doing it on purpose, pondered if you’d picked it out simply to torment him—as if he wasn’t a man made to suffer already.
There were days when sleep was so far away he could almost swear that, in his deluded and exhausted state, he could feel the same caresses on his skin that he felt now. The ghost of your lips caressed the juncture of his neck, only to realize that his hair strands were blowing against his skin from the soft wind. He couldn’t decide if it was in his favor, growing more miserable than anything when he realized you hadn’t been there. Torture and some other types of depraving punishment were what it was.
“Come ‘ere,” he mumbled, tired hands lifting slightly to invite you in, beckoning you to crawl into his embrace. His mind was jumbled, and he hadn’t had much sleep as of late, and your touch—your addictive, mind-numbing touch—managed to set his head askew. Oh, how he always wanted more of you, realizing slowly that the thought of not getting what he now wished for would leave him in horrendous anguish.
“What?” Your smile faltered slightly, confusion now written on your face at his sudden words.
“I said," he muttered, a mild annoyance lacing his voice as one hand reached for you. “Come ‘ere.”
“You should rest,” you answered, blushing at his sudden display as you removed your hand from his hair. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced at him, finding his half-lidded eyes gazing at you. You had trouble admitting it to yourself, yet his lap seemed more inviting when your eyes faltered to find somewhere else to look, trying to ignore his one hand that patted his thigh to beckon you further.
“To hell with that,” he muttered, frowning when he saw you move away from him.
“Well, there’s, you know…” you said quietly, looking behind you through the trees, trying to spot your camp members through the foliage. “Someone could see, Arthur.”
“Come on, sweetheart, it’ll help with the pain.” You gave him a ridiculous look as he moved his jaw and pretended to hiss from the pain, not amused by his blatant lie and laughable attempt at coercion.
“Oh?” Despite his poor endeavor, you couldn’t help but see the corners of your mouth lifting against your will, hand intertwining with his reaching one as you glanced behind you again, conflicted.
His heart warmed at the sight of you, your bashfulness and avoidant eyes only making him long for you harder. It wasn’t unusual for you to avoid his advances, to glance or walk away when he neared you, too shy for your good. Certainly, perhaps he came to you in moments where physical contact might not be deemed appropriate. Yet, the thought of your careful eyes that gazed around you, the small hitch of your breath when he stepped closer than usual in the presence of others, was addictive, bordering on a selfish enjoyment, perhaps.
Without a single notice, you were suddenly tugged forward as you cast a last glance backward, expecting someone to wander further into the surrounding woods as many of you do to escape the merciless sun, finding yourself toppling over Arthur’s body. Gasping slightly, you craned your neck to gaze at his now closed eyes, an amused smirk covering his lips when the palm of your hand hit his chest slightly, sitting up on his lap so you could gain some distance.
“Beatin’ an already wounded man?” His tone was mimicking bafflement, yet the corners of his mouth he couldn’t quite bring down gave him away, and as you scoffed at him, huffs of laughter he tried to quiet down escaped him. “I didn’t peg you for a masochist.”
“I thought you said it didn’t hurt?” Your arms crossed, unamused by the teasing that seemed to grow more frequently as you spent more time with him.
“Well, it does, but it don’t hurt when you do that thing with your hands,” Oh, how unfair it was, twisting and turning his words to make you speechless time and time again. Yet, you should’ve known; Arthur always had a way with words you couldn’t quite understand. “Y’got some kind of witchcraft goin’ on, or what?”
“I might,” you said, narrowing your eyes when his hand squeezed playfully on your waist, wondering what suddenly got him in such a mood after his previous nonchalant—and incredibly grumpy—self. Yet the slight flutter in your stomach persisted as his admittance rang in your ears, tickling your insides when he let his palm rest against you instead of moving away.
Arthur only raised his eyebrow at your words, enjoying the gasp that left you when he suddenly, deliberately, let his legs shift upwards, rendering you nowhere else to fall than towards his chest. The warm, rumbling of his chest against the side of your face when he laughed quietly was infuriating, yet all the more enticing when both hands covered the small of your back, firmly caging you in his arms so you couldn’t possibly move away.
“Arthur-” you started but found yourself being cut off.
“Well then, don’t stop those magic hands of yours if that’s what you're doin’,” he mumbled, lifting you further up his chest to rest his head against your shoulder, secretly enjoying how he finally had your body against his. A job very well executed, he’d say.
A sigh left you as you surrendered, arms wounding their way around his neck as his grip tightened around you and, in the process, pressed you further against him when he felt your hands slither their way into his hair once more. As you combed through the soft, wild strands, you felt the breeze caressing your skin, the distant, low rumble of clanging pots, and Uncle’s loud complaints mingling in the air.
“What really happened today, Arthur?”
“Hm?”
“With your face, I mean. What happened?” He only sighed at your question, and while you had expected to get no answer like usual, it surprised you when you got one.
“Ran into some fellers with John, that’s all. Y’know them Lemoyne boys, right?”
“Mmh,” you hummed in acknowledgment, feeling his thumbs slightly rub against you where they rested.
“They sure ain’t tough, but he got a lucky punch, I guess,” Arthur grumbled, obviously displeased with the poor fellow’s moment of luck. “Punched him a whole lot harder, though.”
Raising, you caressed his cheek softly while Arthur leaned his head against the tree to gaze down at you, his expression losing the irritation. With careful movements, you placed a kiss against the tender, slightly purple skin that stretched across his jaw, letting your lips hover for a moment as your eyes closed.
“Good,” you whispered, focusing on the faint flutters that seemed to travel across the place where he let his touch wander. “My tough outlaw,” you drawled, eyes glinting as your eyes met his, the corner of your lips lifting slightly, yet a certain tenderness hiding in your voice as you spoke.
“Yeah?” he squinted his eyes at you, hands squeezing around your waist once more, his touch not quite as lighthearted as before but slower, almost kneading the supple skin through your clothes. “You think so, huh?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling your heartbeat slow as the air around you shifted, turning humid as a shiver passed through your body. “I do.”
Letting your eyes falter from his, you stroke your fingers over his jaw, letting them slowly make their way down the slope of his neck until they trail over the specks of hair that covered the skin uncovered by his unbuttoned shirt. Slowly, you hooked your fingers over the button, pulling slightly on it so the fabric tightened around his shoulders, feeling his gaze heavy on you.
“What?” he smirked when you paused. “To shy?” You couldn’t tell if he meant to speak the words teasingly, for his tone appeared darker and lowly, eyes testing you carefully.
“Of what?” you retorted, watching his chest move as you took notice of his breathing that had grown heavier beneath you, finding his hands gliding lower down your waist so they now gripped onto the sides of your hips.
A quiet, strained laugh left him as you released his shirt, preparing to lean away slightly when his presence became too much—too imposing. Yet, you didn’t get the chance, only finding Arthur to straighten his otherwise slouching back to lean towards you, arms circling your waist so you wouldn’t fall back in surprise.
“Arthur…” you mumbled, feeling small when he suddenly towered over you. The sides of your thighs rested snuggly against his waist as your skirt gathered around you, the mossy ground damp against your bare knees.
“Mmh?” he hummed, raising an eyebrow when you spoke his name. You felt his hands flex restlessly, eyes plastered solely on your lips—as if his mind was further away than he let on.
“What are you…” you trailed off, words coming out in a breath as you moved slightly to escape the buckle of his belt that dug into your lower stomach, stilling when you heard a low grunt leave his chest, the damp skin of his forehead meeting your shoulder as his head fell limp.
Your breath hitched as you felt Arthur’s arms circle your waist, hugging you tighter against him while taking a deep breath to secretly breathe in your scent—internally groaning when he felt the curves he dreamed of not too long ago as his hands slowly caressed your sides. Cheeky, sure, he was all too aware of it, yet the sole thought of having you in his lap like this without naughtily copping a feeling would be a lost opportunity he would feel saddened about if it passed.
“Oh,” he heard you mumble in surprise. “You know, this could be seen as a violation of private space,” you said matter-of-factly, petting his head in jest. “Also, it’s very unbecoming for a man to throw himself on an unsuspecting woman like this, more so in the middle of the woods, you know.” The rest of your words turned into nonsensical babbling, with no words registering, yet he enjoyed the sweet purring of your voice that vibrated against his cheek.
Arthur, being more prone to being a standoffish man, surely did his part to surprise you at times. Some would say hot or cold; you would say it was more of a tug between his responsibilities and wants, whereas the previous, more often than not, won. Unfairly, for that matter, yet you felt you had no say in it and, therefore, letting the parts play themselves out. You felt, though, that you had every right to be baffled by his twists and turns, careful of his moods, and worrisome of the nature of which he seemed to stretch the sanity of his own self.
“What do you say in your defense, mister Morgan?” you asked righteously—craning your head back in preparation for his answer as you wished your thoughts away.
“Mmh,” he mumbled against your skin, in actuality not having processed a single word that left your mouth, only reveling in the soft murmur of your voice that now surrounded him when you spoke, feeling the warm skin of your neck against his cheek that felt so soft. He would worry about rubbing it raw with his beard if not because he, at this particular moment, couldn’t think of anything but the swell of your hips that rested in his lap and the soft, pudgy thighs encasing his own.
“Mmh,” you quoted, “is not a suitable response-!“ Your last word ended in a small shriek, cut off by the realization that you were suddenly pushed towards the ground, your back meeting the soft moss of the forest floor. A breathless laugh left you at the motion, a small thrill traveling through your body when you felt Arthurs’s lips place themselves in the juncture of your neck, humming slightly as he did.
“Hey,” you said softly, gripping the hair that littered the nape of his neck to lift his head so he would finally look at you. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Sure,” he drawled, casting you a glance before letting his head fall back down, pushing his weight further into you.
It had been a dangerous move to gaze at you, as it always seemed to be, he’d come to find, and the sight itself made tiny, almost unnoticeable tendrils of warmth climb their way up his skin. He only got lost further into you, feeling the corners of his mouth rise when your legs found their way to his waist as if unconsciously. A dangerous invitation, indeed, yet one he couldn’t refuse even if it would mean his death, for it let him rest more comfortably over you, feeling the soft curvature of your body behind the heaps of clothing.
With a quick glance down amidst the small kisses he placed tenderly on your neck, he almost groaned at the sight of your bare legs that were now visible thanks to your skirt that had gathered above your knees. He imagined for a short while running the palm of his hand slowly among the meaty flesh of it, trailing his way to the inside of your thigh where you would be so sensitive—so responsive.
“No, you’re not,” you sighed, smiling when he once more met your gaze, your features softening when you felt his hand travel down your arm to intertwine your hand with his, unbeknownst to you the reason solely so they wouldn’t find their way down your bare thighs.
You had to admit, his persuasion tactics were entirely too well executed, and against your proper nature, they wronged every rule you had set for yourself—including being straddled by a man in the middle of the woods. Yet there was always something unrecognizable in his gaze, like molten coal swimming deep in his eyes, the light glow of embers burning at times as if caressed by the wind. Addictive, and there was no other way around it, no way for you to part with the thought of him.
“Well, ” he paused momentarily. “It ain’t my fault.”
“Oh?” you scoffed. “Then who’s fault is it?”
“Yours,” he said confidently, raising his brows in fake mock when your eyes suddenly squinted at him, the lines in your face deepening in disbelief at his accusation.
“My fa-” Once more, you were cut off; this time, Arthur’s laughter vibrated deep in his chest as if your reaction in and of itself amused him.
“Alright, alright,” he mused, another snicker leaving him when you turned your face away from his kiss. “Easy there, tiger. Quite feisty today, aren’t you?”
“Arthur Morgan, you are being incredibly difficult!”
He only hummed at your scolding, placing his lips on yours when your head turned towards his once more, unrespectful yet non-complaining. Slow and deliberate, the palm of your hand rose to protest but only ended up pressing lightly against the side of his chest to savor every second—the very sensation of being close. It didn’t help that his hands that were still on you created a warmth that seeped through your clothes and lingered on your skin, and as you lay there, tangled together on the forest floor, every passing sound seemed so far away, like a distant murmur that couldn’t quite reach you just yet.
For but a moment, you opened your eyes when the familiar graze of coldness you always felt when Arthur’s lips left yours spread. A smirk formed on his lips as his voice dropped into a low, raspy murmur, vibrating against your skin in a rumble.
“What’d I say? Like taming a tiger,”
You exhaled a soft laugh, but you couldn’t possibly ignore how your heart was racing—almost growing paranoid he could feel it from being pressed so intimately against you.
“Arthur, you can’t just–” you started, but the words faltered when his thumb brushed across your bottom lip, not failing in making your thoughts that had been so carefully planned scatter away like dust being swept away by the wind.
“Can’t just what?” he said, the faintest tone of teasing in his voice yet molded with a certain huskiness, a low hum of desire bleeding through the soft murmurs. Rough, of course, as it always was, but there was a certain gentleness you’d never been able to get used to that only peeked out when he spoke to you.
“You know exactly what.”
You could almost roll your eyes at the cockiness that shone through him, but the warmth that spread through your body betrayed any attempts you made in resistance. It’s simply not fair, yet there was only so much stubbornness left in your body that you could keep up, knowing very well this was where you longed to be the most—encased in his arms
Arthur only chuckled softly, shifting his weight as his other hand slid carefully down to rest on your hip, fingers brushing just below the hem of your skirt. His eyes caught your attention; the blue shades of his eyes almost seemed to darken as his chest moved steadily, almost daring you to protest when he slowly felt the skin underneath the pads of his fingers—just about to speak before a brash voice cut through the air.
“So this is where you hide, with clothes to be washed and dishes to clean!”
The sudden outburst made you feel like your heart jumped through your skin—jolting up in surprise so you almost hit your face against Arthur’s shoulder when he didn’t move a single muscle at the intrusion.
“Miss Grimshaw!” you gasped, pushing against Arthur’s chest when you found that he didn’t attempt to move, instead only raising his eyebrows as he gazed at the scandalized woman who glared at you from a few feet away.
“So do ‘em,” Arthur mumbled in annoyance, seemingly not caring if the woman had heard him or not. He directed his gaze towards your red cheeks before glancing at your frantic hands, which hit slightly against him, causing a small smile to take over his lips before the previous irritation filled his mind once more at having his time with you interrupted.
“I just-” you started, cut off by an unamused Grimshaw.
“I don’t care to hear it,” she said, hand placed firmly on her hip as she beckoned you over, turning around to walk towards camp with determined steps, muttering angrily to herself as if you’d committed a cardinal sin—or a few. “Behaving like teenagers.”
Crawling away from Arthur’s arms surrounding your sides, you quickly stood up, running a hand through your hair that had tangled something terribly at the back of your head. How embarrassing, you thought, closing your eyes momentarily before gazing at her fading figure, feet setting into motion the second she turned her head towards you.
The coercion that man harbored was all too ridiculous, yet you had to applaud his tactics, for they sure did the trick in rendering you willing every time. Curse him, and curse you for falling for it. Yet, as you glanced back at Arthur, you found your eyes growing smaller as you saw him once more leaning comfortably against the tree—like he’d never moved from his earlier position at all.
“Your skirt,” he said, making you stop in your tracks to throw him a confused look.
“What?”
Opening one eye, he glanced at your legs, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk you could only explain as insufferably irritating, before closing it to place his hat over his eyes. Following his gaze, you found your skirt now twisted and wrinkled, having gotten caught, so it now showed a large portion of your one leg.
A terrible heat crept up your neck as you tugged at the fabric, hastily straightening it as you damned Arthur’s smugness while berating yourself over this mortifying moment that he didn’t seem to bat an eye at.
“Real helpful,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a chilling look that was meant to wound his ego—yet you doubted anything could pierce that thick skull of his.
Turning your back on him, you tried to walk with a sense of purpose, as if you weren’t still reeling from your racing heart and tangled hair. But that woman—terribly unimpressed—already stood waiting for you in the distance as if she could sense your hesitation. The look she threw you stung, and you couldn’t help but feel like a scolded child under her gaze despite your age.
“Best hurry up before she rips into us both,” Arthur’s voice came for behind, teasing but low. You didn’t dignify it with a response, only picking up your pace as his laughter—soft and lazy—followed you all the way back to camp. You were sure there’d be words exchanged soon, ones you weren’t sure you wanted to deal with today. Though, despite this, you felt a small smile take over your frown, damning yourself for falling for his coercion time and time again.
“Damn you, Arthur Morgan.”
#arthur morgan imagine#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan fanfic#red dead redemption#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption imagine
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ooohhhhhh, please can you write a smut with aegon? maybe where he catches her in the town with some guy she’s been seeing and he just gets jealous and they go back to the keep and it’s just angsty but smutty. tyyyyy 😚
Request: Aegon weds Helaena instead of his twin sister. They continue seeing each other but Alicent force them apart and end this with smut
Warnings: 18+, smut, humping, mention of p + v, sibling incest,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
Since birth, you and Aegon had always been attached to the hip. You fed from your mother’s breasts at the same time, napped together, bathed together, and continued doing so as you grew up. Where Aegon went, you followed.
When your bodies started to change, you pointed it out to each other and did things the Faith of the Sevens considered sins.
Because of your bond, you always assumed you would wed your twin brother when you could flower, but Aegon ended up being betrothed to your younger sister, Helaena. Neither you or Aegon were pleased with the decision. He didn’t love Helaena, and never would. She was just a wife he had to bed until his seed took.
On nights Aegon didn’t see Helaena, he snuck to your chambers. With you, he didn’t need to imagine someone else’s face to keep his cock hard. All he had to do was look in your eyes — and your perky breasts and pink cunny.
Eventually, you got caught and your mother took the decision to order a guard at your door at night.
Three years went by since you last shared a bed, since you last felt each other’s naked body. You had turned to brothels, buying yourself the finest looking men that would fill the void of your brother - although none would equal his beauty.
It was difficult seeing him around the Keep and staying away from each other. All you wanted was to throw yourself into Aegon’s arms and never let go.
‘’You smell new tonight, Princess,’’ the blond boy complimented as he kissed your skin, smelling something different. ‘’Although I do not recognize what it is.’’
‘’Jasmin,’’ you said, tilting your neck to give him more space. ‘’I brought home soaps from Highgarden when I visited.’’
He continued to kiss your body as you laid there in the silks of your private chamber, veils of curtains shielding you from the prying eyes of the customers. It was no secret that the princess was frequenting brotels of the Street of Silk, but your naked body was not for open view. Only those who were given golden coins had the chance to see what hid beneath your sumptuous dresses.
Tonight, his name was Dorian, or mayhaps Davos. It was the same to you. He had a pair of blue eyes that reminded you of Aegon's, which had heavily influenced your choice of boy of pleasure. You've laid with him before. He was one of your favorites. Sweet, delicate faced and he had a decent cock.
His kisses were light as his lips descended down your naked body. His hands trailed down your collarbones and to your supple breasts. You sighed in pleasure, appreciating the way he was suckling on your nipple.
‘’Does the Princess like how I'm taking care of her?’’ he asked sweetly, wanting to please.
You relaxed against the pillows. ‘’Very much.’’
Dorian continued to kiss lower and lower, until he reached your lower stomach. ‘’May I touch you, Princess?’’
You nodded in consent, a long moan leaving your parted lips when Dorian’s thumb circled your neglected pearl. After a month of traveling, a month of only having your hands to pleasure yourself, your body was sensitive and in need.
On the other side of the curtains, Aegon was strolling through the brothel with a goblet of wine in his hand, rubbing himself over his breeches while looking for a suitable cunny to dip his cock in. There were women of every kind. Some were half-naked, others fully exposed, all wearing expressions of lust and desire.
As he walked past one of the curtained-off rooms, he couldn’t help but notice the feminine moans and gasps coming from within. Curious, Aegon paused in his steps and pulled the curtain slightly open.
Aegon’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He almost dropped the goblet in his hand at the pure shock of realizing whose body was being pleasured behind the curtain. His twin sister. His sister that he had not touched in so long.
You writhed and moaned so prettily on the silken sheets, your face scrunched up in pleasure at the work of the boy of pleasure in the bed.
With his hand still gripping the curtain, Aegon pulled it open and stormed into the room. His eyes were burning with jealousy and fury, his voice sharp when he spoke. ‘’Get out.’’
The boy of pleasure looked up in surprise, gasping at the sight of your twin brother standing at the end of the bed. He glanced at you, then back to Aegon, not knowing what to do. You had paid for his company, he should stay. But the rage on Aegon’s face terrified him.
“I said get out,” Aegon repeated with his jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving you. ‘’It’s a command from your prince of the realm and heir to the throne.’’
The boy of pleasure hurried off the bed and left the room, leaving you and Aegon together.
You sat up when the curtains closed again, your eyes wide and your body stiff. With the way Aegon burst through the curtains with such anger and rage on his face, you knew exactly what he was feeling. Jealousy.
‘’What in the Seven fucking Hells is this?’’ His voice was sharp and harsh, and his blood was boiling. ‘’You let whores sully your body with his disreputable seed?’’
You poured yourself more wine into your cup and took a small sip under Aegon’s gaze, not bothering to cover your body. ‘’I don’t let them fill me, if that’s what you’re worried about. There is no bastard babe in my womb.’’
Aegon clenched his jaw at your response. The fact that you were so casual, that you were so calm was making him even more angry. He took a few steps towards you, his eyes roaming over your naked and exposed body. Gods, you were so beautiful. The memory of the many times he had you like this under him flashed through his mind, and he cursed under his breath, his cock hardening in his breeches.
‘’You let someone unworthy between your legs. You…you betrayed me!’’
You almost laughed at the absurdity of his words. Betrayed him?
‘’Mother forced us apart,’’ you reminded him. She was the villain of the story, not you. ‘’What was I supposed to do, Aegon? Plot for my sister’s death so I could wed her widower husband?’’
‘’We could have used the hidden passages and seen each other behind Mother’s back.’’
‘’And risk her exiling me to Oldtown?’’ You shook your head, refusing this to be your fate.
‘’I would not have let her.’’ He climbed over the bed and reached for your chin with a firm grip. Forcefully, he tilted your face up to look at him. ‘’I would not have let her take you from me.’’ Aegon’s voice was lower and huskier now that he was so close to you, and you could feel the heat coming off his body. He let go of your chin but didn’t move away, trapping you between his arms.
As he hovered over you, your eye’s met with his. You felt like you could almost drown in their blue hue. This was his natural state, you knew. Full of fire and lust, unable to control his emotions. His breathing became deeper and more ragged as he continued to stare down at you.
You were both silent for a moment until Aegon suddenly lowered his head, burying his face into your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, biting down hard just to hear you hiss. His body pressed you down into the bed, humping against you. His clothes felt rough against your bare skin, but the friction of your bodies sent shocks of pleasure through each other.
‘’Ahh, I need you, Aegon,’’ you mewled in his ear, fingers clutching at his commoner tunic. His hard bulge was pressing against your naked cunny, the wetness seeping from you staining the fabric every time he rubbed against you.
His lips kissed their way up your jaw, then he brushed his nose against yours. ‘’Have me.’’
The lewd sounds came from behind the curtains echoed through the brothel all night, making customers wish they could have a turn with whoever was giving pleasure. Little did they know, it wasn't a brothel worker who was behind the curtains, but a prince and a princess who were making up for three years of craving each other.
—
House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic
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#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii fanfic#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon the second#house targaryen#house of the dragon#taylor swift#hotd
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A Late-Night Session.
A/N: I'm not gonna lie, this is purely self serving one-shot, I'm sure I dreamt about this so I wanted to write it.
Summary: You were part of the Hellfire crew and had just finished your most recent campaign, Eddie invited you over for the night after the rest of the club had left.
Warnings: reader is afab. It does include smut so 18+, both the reader and Eddie are at least 21.
Eddie slumped back into his throne with a smile, he had been in charge of this story for a while, and it had finally come to conclusion. The cheers from the rest of your party made Eddie smile enthusiastically, you could not help but look at him, you loved seeing how happy DnD made him. Eddie’s smile was intoxicating to you and was pretty much the only reason you attended the weekly Hellfire meetings at this point. Yes you had enjoyed DnD in your younger years but now all you went for was the enigmatic leader, Eddie Munson. He was so energetic and passionate, you had never met a dungeon master like him. You were almost sad that your current campaign had ended, hoping he would come up with another one so you could all play together again and you could be in his company.
You all cheered wildly at the end of the campaign, your group being victorious against Asmodeus. It was a difficult campaign, but you and your team made it through, celebrating your win thoroughly. The night of your win was a wild one by DnD standards, you all ate too much and tried not to drink yet in front of the younger players, you could do that later. The young ones spilled out of the room, leaving to catch their rides early into the night. The older ones, like Gareth and Jeff, left a little later leaving you to clean up, not that you minded. It left you and Eddie alone, this was something that you had become used to, each week everyone would have a reason why they could not stay and help clear up. You did not mind though, you enjoyed your private time with Eddie, just the two of you, it was the favourite part of your week, you both flirted with each other, but neither would be brave enough to make an actual move. There had always been a palpable chemistry between the two of you, it was obvious to everyone that saw you together, however you both seemed to tiptoe around it.
This week, Eddie told himself it would be different, he would ask you back to his place and he would finally make a move against you. It had burned up inside of him each day he saw you that he did not act upon his attraction to you, he wanted to claim you as his before anyone else had the chance to. The air was quiet as you had both started to clear the chairs and cards away, you never wanted to interrupt Eddies workflow, he had a system for how he worked, and you respected it. You both tidied up in silence for a while until Eddie’s deep voice broke the silence between you.
“So, Y/N…. You got any plans for tonight?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he asked, he wanted to seem cool and confident, but his current form was betraying him, you turned to focus on him and your heart melted. He looked so cute and anxious that it made you smile.
“Eddie, I’m actually flattered that you think I have any sort of social life outside of DnD” You joke and smile softly at him. Eddie had always loved your playful nature, he had often wondered why you were not more popular than you were, you seemed so approachable and enigmatic to him, you were due to leave for college this year and he wanted to try and shoot his shot before you left and found someone whilst you were away.
“Well, I don’t know what you get up to in your spare time, Princess” You turned back around to stack the chairs away but you could almost feel the smirk that was plastered on his face, he was the only one that was allowed to call you Princess, you hated hearing the name from any of the other guys but Eddie got a free pass with it, for some reason the name coming from his lips made you blush and go warm, the way he called you it was almost as if he knew what effect he had on you.
You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you finished clearing up, you walked over to him. “Well actually, Munson, I don’t have any sordid plans tonight, why do you ask?” you chuckle at him, trying not to be distracted by those big brown eyes of his. They were your biggest weakness; he could commit any crime known to man but if he looked at you with his big brown doe eyes you would melt. Many a time you had to tell him playfully “You put those big brown eyes away mister” because you were annoyed at him and did not want him to worm his way out of a telling off.
Eddie had finished collecting up any figures and cards that were laid out on the table as he replied to you. “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to come to mine for a drink. My uncle is away for work, so I have the trailer to myself?” He tried to seem smooth as he asked but his heart thumped wildly in his chest, he had never been this forward with you, but he wanted to try his chances with you, the moment he met you he was enthralled with you.
A soft blush crept upon your face as you responded, pretending to be interested in something else to hide it from him. “Sounds good to me chief.” You would love nothing more than to be alone with him in his trailer, you had spent time alone with him after each DnD session but being alone with him in his trailer was different, it was more intimate and was something that you had craved, you wanted a chance to be with him in an intimate setting, you were not sure what you would do but you wanted the chance nonetheless.
A smile erupted across Eddie’s face, you had actually agreed to spend time together, just you and him. His nervous sweaty palm ran through his hair trying to tame the wild curls somewhat. “I’ve got some good films we can watch whilst we have a drink, it’s completely your choice” his voice was slightly nervous as he spoke, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed your time with him. You chuckled and shook your head at him. “I was more than happy with the idea of free drinks, don’t give me the stress of choosing a movie to go with them”.
The final bits of the gathering were cleared away as Eddie chuckled, he spun his car keys in his hand and nodded his head towards the door. “C’mon then Princess, I’ve got a few beers with your name on them.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his smile, trying to hide how much it made you weak at the knees. You followed him outside and made yourself comfy in his truck, you had been in it many times, but this felt different, you felt there was a tension in the air between the both of you. The ride to his trailer was mostly uneventful, filled with pleasantries, asking how you both were and how he was doing with work and whatnot, he told you that he was adamant that he would graduate this year, 86 was going to be his year. It was not long until you pulled up outside of his trailer. The gentleman he was, Eddie made sure that he quickly walked around to open the car door for you, eliciting a playful eyeroll from you.
Eddie opened the door to his trailer, inviting you in. Giving you a playful bow before escorting you in, you had been in his trailer many times and he did that stupid bow every time. “So, you want a drink yeah?” Eddie called from the kitchen as you stood in the living room adjacent to it.
“Yeah sure thanks” You were not overly bothered about having a drink, but you just wanted an excuse to spend time alone with him. You both took a seat on the sofa an made yourself comfy, Eddie sat there, his legs wide apart and holding his beer bottle between his legs. You decide to test the waters and softly and drape your legs over his and lay down on the sofa, pretending to be nonchalant about it. Eddies eyes went wide as he felt your legs drape over his waist, his hand instinctively landed on your thigh. You were wearing criminally short shorts in Eddie’s mind; how could he resist touching you.
Eddie groaned internally as his hand rested on your bare thigh, he squeezed it softly causing a soft moan to emanate from your lips. You felt his rings dig into the flesh of your thighs and you could not help but moan against the feeling of the metal digging against your skin. The soft moan caused Eddie to grip your thigh even harder as he leant towards you with a smirk. “Are you okay, Darling?” His hand started to stroke further up your thigh and rested just beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin of your stomach, waiting for confirmation that you wanted more from him. You blushed at the fact you let the audible moan slip from your lips, it was hard to catch your breath knowing where his hands were on your body, desperately wanting them to explore further. Eddie leant towards you on the sofa, his hand ever so slight trailing up underneath your shirt, feeling his calloused palm against the soft skin of your waist.
“Cat got your tongue sweetheart?” He purred, that stupid smirk on his face caused your heart to flutter, but you would not be bested by him. You leant forward and left barely any room between his lips; he could feel your breath hot against his face. “I’m more than okay, Munson” You could sense that this was your opportunity, if you were ever going to get him then it was now, you held your composure despite your heart feeling like a jackhammer in your chest, trying not to look into those deep brown eyes that were now raking over you.
Your response and eagerness to lean closer to him was all the confirmation that Eddie needed, His free hand came swiftly to the back of your head and pulled you into him, your lips crashing together. You felt yourself moan into the kiss as his hand on your waist squeezed the delicate skin there, it felt like bliss as his hand gripped you and pulled you closer. You lost yourself in the kiss and moved closer to him, your aim to straddle yourself over his lap on the couch. An aim that Eddie did not stop you from achieving, he let out a throaty groan against your lips as he felt you move onto his lap, his hands devouring your body hungrily, he wanted to feel all of you. His lips released yours and found your neck, placing wet open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collar bone. You back arched towards him, wanting him to explore all of your body with his mouth and tongue. Your hands travelled up his arms until they reached the base of his neck, where you slowly tangled your hands into his soft curls and gripped softly, pulling yourself against him even more.
Eddie was in heaven, he had you on his lap and his mouth was exploring your body, he craved more though, he had wanted you from the day he first met you and this was not enough. His lips found your neck again and his voice vibrated against your skin. “Fuck…. I need you, Princess” His deep voice against your neck made you groan into him desperately, you needed him just as bad as he needed you. You gripped your hands tighter into his hair and kissed along his jawbone, your voice soft and breathy as you spoke. “Eddie…. please.” His eyes rolled back in his head at your breathy plea and gripped your thighs roughly. Eddie regained his composure slightly and positioned his hands under your thighs. He stood up from the sofa, lifting you with him and carried you towards his bedroom down the hall. You wrapped your legs around his waist and carried on kissing along his jaw and neck, now feeling his excitement thick against your thighs.
He dropped you roughly on his bed, resting on his forearms above you on the unkempt bed with pure lust in his eyes, he had wanted you for so long and now you were here in his bed, he would make sure that you enjoyed it and would want more from him. His plump lips found your neck again, his teeth grazing against your skin causing you to moan softly and grip his hair, spurring him on even further as he nipped his way down to your chest. You helped him swiftly remove your t shirt, laying bare chested before him. Eddie’s eyes laid on you half naked form, fuck you were beautiful to him, he needed just a moment to commit this vison to memory before his lips found your skin again. He kissed along your breasts, his teeth teasing you and nipping at your soft delicate skin. You felt him suck at your soft skin, leaving his marks upon your body, this aroused you even more, knowing that he was claiming you as his, knowing that he wanted nobody else to touch you.
The kisses along your breast and stomach were sloppy and desperate, until he reached the waistband of your shorts, you looked down and could see his beautiful eyes, asking for permission to remove them, a soft nod from you was all it took, and he quickly took them off and threw them on the floor. His teeth now grazed against your inner thigh, and you moaned desperately, he was teasing you and he knew it.
“So needy Princess, good girls wait patiently” You felt his smirk against your thigh as his tongue roamed your skin, wanting to taste every inch of you. Your hips bucked towards him involuntarily, you wanted him to relieve you of the heat that was swimming in your lower stomach, you were desperate for his touch. Finally you felt his lips upon you, you were already soaking wet for him, a fact that made him chuckle against you as you felt his tongue against your clit, moving in slow languid circles to torture you further Your soft moans were like music to his ears, whilst his hands roamed your skin, his big calloused hands finding your breasts, squeezing them causing your back to arch further into his touch.
“Eddie….” You moaned softly as he continued to tease you, you wanted to feel him and let him relieve you of the pressure building inside of you. He smiled and left one final kiss against you, lifting his head from your thighs, you could see your juices dripping from his face and thought he had never looked sexier. In one quick move he removed his t shirt and leant his body against yours, revelling in the feeling of your breasts against his bare chest now. His lips found yours again, kissing you passionately as he tried desperately to undo his jeans. You could feel his thick length against your thigh through the denim of his jeans so when you felt him bare against you, you moaned desperately. You had imagined what Eddie would feel like many a night, you craved it desperately, even pleasuring yourself over the thought, something Eddie did over the thought of you as well. Eddie steeled himself and took a deep breath, he had wanted this for so long and he would savour the moment, he held his cock in his hand and swiped it against your wet folds, chuckling to himself at your desperate moans. He loved seeing you so desperate and needy beneath him, knowing that he was the one causing you to come undone like this. He slowly pressed his throbbing tip into you, feeling you stretch around his girth, squeezing his eyes closed as he felt how good you were around him.
A deep breathy moan escaped your lips as you felt him inside of you, you had been with other people before but you were not used to this size, it was almost sinful how good he was making you feel just from pressing slowly inside of you. “Fuck…..” Eddie whispered as he felt himself stretch your cunt, you felt so good already and he wasn’t sure he would last too long at this rate. He started to thrust a slow and steady pace, one that felt torturous to you, your hips bucked against him as you wanted to feel him thick and fast against you. “Baby…. Please I can’t” He whispered against your neck, he wanted to, so badly he wanted to fulfil your desire and drill into you.
“Eddie… I’m so close… please” your voice desperate for him now, your nails digging into the skin on his back, he looked at you, your eyes almost in tears because you were so desperate for him now. His hands gripped on your hips, pulling you even closer to him, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, he wanted to be close and hear your moans for him. He pounded into you roughly and after a few thrusts he felt your walls clench around him tightly, your moans were like heaven to him, he told himself that he would commit that sound to memory. One more thrust and he was spent, he felt himself tremble inside of you as he collapsed on top of your body, leaving soft wet kisses on your neck.
You were both laid together, sweaty and gasping, feeling the afterglow of your orgasm. Your hand softly stroked Eddie’s hair behind his ear, loving how the fringe of his hair was slick against the sweat of his forehead. You looked deep into his deep brown eyes and smiled, you both felt happy and at peace in each other’s arms.
Eddie finally rolled off the top of you, laying beside you he pulled you into his arms, stroking the soft skin of your back affectionately. You both laid there silently for a while enjoying each other’s embrace until Eddie spoke up, hooking a finger under you chin pulling your face up to look at him. “So, is this going to be a regular after session thing or not?” You rolled your eyes playfully at his smirk, answering him with a deep kiss. You knew this would be more than an after-session activity.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic
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i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.
(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)
because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,
(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)
it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,
it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.
(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)
she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."
there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves
there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic
she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect
i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way
it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."
it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense
this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though
she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it
by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands
i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me
she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility
she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind
but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*
#dib noise#mouthwashing#sorryyyyyyyyy lol#i will defend you anya o7#its been fun to roll this game around in my brain. gives me something to do#long post#could be reaching though. it's unfortunate so much of her screentime is hammering home how poorly jimmy regards her#or her being scared/nervous in his presence#or trying to placate him#yes i know that's the point#are my feelings on how anya is treated by the the characters the fans and the game itself weirdly personal? yeah sorry#unfortunately i do think they didn't get the anya parts as solidly as the rest but oh well#everything has flaws#i've gone through a playthrough of this game like 10 times for this#you KNOW im sourcing my claims!!#not really an attack on the people who made the stuff i mentioned at the start#more of a commentary on how they relate with the source material itself#yes yes i know giving a crewmate a lethal weapon is probably not the best idea to curly#does that make this situation any less horrifying?#remember: these aren't real people. everything they do was written on purpose for a reason#i still need to write down my general thoughts on the game as a whole..#also not about one specific person post image writing ect it's a collection of things and ideas thrown onto one post#I'm not any good at ending posts like thase it kind of devolves by yhe end but thats ok
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