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shrenvents · 7 months ago

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Hi love, you have an amazing imagination, and I love your writing style. I was wondering if you could maybe do some more with Wolverine. I'm in that x men stage again. And I loved you last piece of work on him. Maybe you could do a continuation of it or think of something completely new. Anyway, dont feel pressured ❤️

A/N: ur actually so sweet, thank uu! I'm also rlly shocked but appreciative of all the love Professor Howlett received, so u don't even have to ask twice for more, it's my pleasure ;)

Divided Attention

Professor Howlett II

Part one

Warnings: minors dni, Smut, fluff, language, jealousy, (legal) age gap, oral, f!receiving, semi-public

Pairing: Logan x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Things were going well with you and Logan, until he suddenly put distance between you both, acting strangely. On top of that, you catch him threatening one of your fellow classmates and have no choice, but to face your issues, head-on.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Any small moment together, Logan and I chased. The little highs we could derive from our busy schedules, we eagerly pursued.

From a quickie in the janitor's closet, a make-out session after class, or a passionate sleepover, Logan consumed every inch of my life. He was consuming every bit of my mind, and an ominous trepidation was closing in, alongside him.

The more I saw him, the greedier I became. Desperate to see and feel more of him, beyond the surface. So, it was no surprise, that I soon desired something more from our casual relationship.

With graduation just around the corner, I was almost home free. Free to outwardly tell him what I yearned for.

But the concern that racked my brain constantly, that trepidation, was whether he wanted the same.

As I was getting to know him, it was clear there were parts of him I had yet to discover, parts he seemed reluctant to reveal. Sometimes he would be open, close by my side. The next second, he would shut down.

What made matters worse, was that recently, he hadn't sought me out. It's felt as though he's no longer hungry for those small moments, that I still very much craved.

Now I'm on edge and have no clue what he's thinking, or what he thinks of us.

...

The day started like any other. I went to each class, exhausted and disinterested, till that afternoon. Something caught my eye, and the eyes of the school's populace: Logan pinning a male student to the wall of the vast, oak wood hallway.

They speak in hushed tones to one another, and the boy looks beyond frightened, while Logan looks ready to tear his head from his scrawny neck.

It takes only a moment for my alarm to pass, and for me to note, that this boy sits next to me in history.

A sharp intake of breath hitches in my throat.

His name's Mikey, and he has been a nuisance to Logan from the get-go, long before our intimate affair. Labelled as the class clown, Mikey uses his obnoxious voice and meddling powers to disturb Logan's lessons, daily. To top it off, Mikey consistently bothers me, mimicking what I say, and staring at my profile, for far too long.

Just when Logan dips his head closer to Mikey, perhaps to rip out his jugular, like the predator he is, Scott interjects.

"Logan! Drop him!" When Scott's unnerved voice orders Logan, my eyes snap to Mikey's feet, which are spraddled in the air, dangling for dear life.

I guess a few days apart made me forget just how strong he is. Maybe he's just too gentle with me to remember.

As his feet slowly lower to the floor, gasps and murmurs flood the halls, and my head frantically shoots around, surprised by the crowd of avid onlookers.

Eyes anxiously surveying the students, I hone in on Logan again, flinching when seeing his pupils, already fixed on me.

He releases Mikey immediately, retracting from him while Scott grabs his bicep, heatedly whispering into his ear, and Mikey scrambles away.

Logan's eyes shy from mine and my mouth gaps. He almost looks, embarrassed. 'Huh?'

Soon, other teachers arrive to intervene, shooing students from the crime scene.

So, aimlessly wandering outside, into the courtyard, hoping to clear my head, I think back on our classes together. Every time Mikey acted up, Logan seemingly couldn’t care less, looking more spent overall, than unsettled by his brazen jokes.

It was kind of funny, seeing Mikey quaking in his boots at the older male. It was only yesterday, that he spoke to me with such forwardness, and to Logan with such rudeness, carrying that typical smug expression -it was nice to see it wiped clean.

I laugh to myself, disbelieving what just transpired. I can only imagine what errand Professor Xavier will make Logan do to atone, or what bonding exercise he and Mikey may perform...

While I trudge down the stone steps, onto the vivid green field, I spot the devil himself, Mikey. He sits under the shade of a grand willow tree, dome hung between his bent knees.

Feeling rather empathetic, I stroll towards him, stopping in front of his feet. Evidently noticing my bright attire, his head pops up, and his dewy eyes widen.

"You alright?" I ask warily and his bottom lip trembles. He sniffs once, toughening up before responding, "I'm good." I nod, then look at the endless landscape to my right. "Whatever you did must've really been something, Mr. Howlett's rarely that peeved."

"You're telling me," he huffs sarcastically, sounding pained. Shifting, I sit beside him, maintaining some space. "If you don't mind me asking, what was that about?" Mikey pauses, thinking hard.

"No clue," he mumbles pitifully. I gawk at him, brows creasing. He peers at me and copies my appearance. "I'm not lying," he exclaims defensively. "There's no way," I retort, scoffing.

"If you don't fucking believe me, why ask," Mikey spits, mumbling "bitch" as he shoots to stomp off.

Suspiring, my crown gingerly falls onto the tree's trunk. Finding comfort in its rugged bark, I calmly savour the crisp air.

I close my eyes, for what feels like a few minutes until a fierce call of my name grips my consciousness. Eyelids cracking open, my vision focuses on Mr. Howlett himself, standing in all his glory, glaring down at me with a brooding look.

"If it isn't the man of the hour," I giggle humourlessly, straightening my spine, but choosing not to stand and seem intimidated, like he evidently wishes me to be.

"You have a nice chat?" Logan questions with an irked tone, obviously remarking on my 'chat' with Mikey. 'Was he watching us?'

I tilt my head defiantly. "I'm not picking sides," I raise both hands in surrender, smiling from ear to ear. His eye faintly twitches, and I nearly gulp. He grumbles incomprehensible nonsense, then chooses to stay relatively quiet, which is unlike him.

"Do you have something to say? Or are you just gonna stand there?" I inquire venomously.

Clearly dispising my attitude, he concentrates on my face, scowling. His features have rage written all over them, but I refuse to bow out of this impending feud.

He grumbles under his breath again, and I break.

"Speak up!" I shout, swiftly bringing my gaze to our surroundings, making sure we're alone -which is something Logan clearly isn't worried about.

"What the fuck do you two have to talk about?" He just about growls and I tense, stunned. My face contorts with perplexity. "Me and Mikey?" I question, and his eyebrows nearly conjoin in response. "Not much, just discussing you're outburst," heaving, I continue, "though he didn't have much to say on the topic," sighing, "you?"

His nostrils flare slightly, and I do my best to appear composed. "What else have you talked about?" He grunts, and I roll my eyes, rising to my feet, bored with our conversation. "What's it to you?" I ask rhetorically, internally referring to the distance he'd been building between us.

Moving elsewhere, I roughly brush past his shoulder. He doesn't immediately reply, but trails after me as I march further into the courtyard.

"The fuck you on about?" Logan vulgarly rumbles, and I forget to speak.

My pace then staggers when he delicately wraps his digits over my forearm, tugging me, almost cautiously, backward.

Square to him, I discern his thumb tracing my skin lightly, before finally looking at him. He examines his finger as it sweeps across my flesh. "Logan?" I carefully utter, and his eyes stay glued to where our bodies meet.

"Why do you talk to him," he pauses, snarling with emphasis on 'talk,' yet again. Then he murmurs, "-When you have me?" He’s so quiet, that the words are barely audible. My features instantly soften. “Are you,” I hesitate, “Jealous?”

When he doesn’t answer, I gasp so loud, that my palm slaps over my mouth. He looks around, avoiding eye contact as I grasp the situation. “Did you threaten Mikey 'cause he yaps to me in class?”

Logan scorned the very idea of jealousy, cruising his head in a circle, to showcase his exasperation. I smirk uncontrollably and he snits. "Don't flatter yourself Princess," he remarks blatantly. My smirk only expands. "I can't believe you," I laugh hysterically and he motions like he's going to walk away, but he stays put, and I know I've won.

"Don't pull that face," he complains, gesturing to my proud look.

"What face?" I ask, playing naive, faintly swinging my body side to side. "Just stop talking to him, he's a bad influence," he grunts, peering off to the horizon. I giggle, "Or what? Do you intend to beat every boy who speaks to me?" I counter, and he struggles to fight a smile.

"What if I do," Logan more or less declares.

Shaking my head, "You've got some nerve," I huff, "seeing as you've been avoiding me lately."

"I haven't been avoiding you-"

I interrupt, "Oh yes, you have," playfully punching his gut with a grin, which drops the second my knuckles practically grow a heartbeat. "Ow," I breathe and at last, he laughs.

When Logan's laugh dims, he looks almost sullen. "Didn't think you'd notice," he mumbles and I quirk my chin in confusion. "You seem preoccupied." Gapping at him once more, he rolls his eyes, showing his teeth. "Don't gimme that damn look girl," he heaves, "you're young and, and-"

"And what?"

"Attractive," he sighs heavily, "you don't need an old man weighing you down."

I still, catching his genuine displeasure and defeat. It's like he's disappointed I may seek romance from someone else, but accepts it regardless, for my sake, my happiness.

My heart thumps irregularly and I feel like jumping his bones. I release a lengthy sigh, with a smile twinkling. His brow rises questioningly, seeming anxious about a reaction to his masked insecurity.

"What?" He bites.

"I'm relieved," his confusion visibly progresses. "I thought you were tired of me." As his mouth opens, to probably insult my intelligence, I cut in. "I wanna go steady with you, if that wasn't obvious already." My smile grows sheepish, then taunting, "I like you Lo, and clearly you must love me."

Like he's been holding his breath, a loud puff of air escapes his chapped lips, and I shamelessly watch as he wets them.

"You've gotta be the strangest girl I've ever met," he utters with a smirk forming, and I return one, interpreting his words as a declaration of love.

"Woman," I correct, then babble jokingly, "refined Lady." He confidently strides closer. "Mistress-"

The air leaves my lungs as his solid arms devour me, squeezing tightly.

"You best realize what you're committing to," Logan comments, lightly lifting strands of my hair with his fingertips, to kiss my neck. "That means, no more talking to boys," he grunts, humour coaxing his tone. "Especially ones so far out of your league," he pulls his head back, to peer at my expectant face, "It's not even funny," he finishes with a grin.

I laugh, unable to contain my joy, quickly hiding my wild smile in his chest. A pleased hum rumbles in tune with his heavy breathing, and I listen to his heartbeat's fairly, rapid pace.

For a while, we stay present in each other's arms, with fulfillment and ease consuming our beings, synchronously. Logan's fingers drift across my lower back, leisurely tracing my curves.

"I like you, so much," I whisper airly because the words couldn't be repressed, and had escaped. His hands gradually slow to a halt, till he abruptly draws back. He looks at me, with such intense seriousness, that I shudder.

Then, he pulls away entirely, taking my hand in his larger one, to drag me deeper into the field -into the overgrown areas, looted with massive trees and bushes.

"Logan?" My whisper transforms into a squeak when I'm hauled behind various, untrimmed hedges. His palms grope my hips, stilling me before he drops to his knees. I ogle his smug face as it bores into me, before he wrestles with my pink, low-waisted, jean shorts, impatiently dragging them down my plump thighs. He mumbles, "Ridiculous" when his eyeline levels with my purple, close-to-sheer underwear.

Like my shorts, he yanks them down to my ankles, then swiftly encloses his mouth over my cunt, swiping the folds with his tongue. I throw the back of my hand over my incoming yelp, biting down to muffle it.

"Is this you tryna to deflect admitting you really like me?" I joke meekly as my mouth parts from my hand, but I quickly chomp down again, when he licks me, with a long flick of his tongue. I gasp and whimper, using my spare hand to claw at his scalp for leverage, as he hungrily laps my pussy, sucking on its nub.

A tremor racks my insides, eliciting spasms while he builds up a powerful, but excruciatingly relaxed pace. His bulky digits move to relentlessly rub my clit, applying a rhythmic pressure that makes me sob.

Logan shushes me, mouth still buried in my folds. The buzz of his voice sends shivers through my core, and the strength of his action grows, acknowledging my imminent finish.

“Eyes on me,” Logan basically growls, before diving back into my cunt.

I muffle a cry of his name with a fist now, biting my knuckles. Then, I look from the heavens, back down to the one hand I still have, clenching his silky locks.

My knees begin to buckle and his sizeable palms relocate to support my hips, with his fingertips bordering my ass, kneading it. "I'm close," I gasp, barely audible through my hand. He hums again, and when it elicits another shiver, and shake of my frame, I tumble over his back, wrecked by my climax.

Now hunched over him, with my hands splayed down his torso, I tremble furiously, coming down from my high. I can't help but whine when Logan continuously licks me. He tastes every inch of me like I'm the meal of a lifetime, like I'm oxygen itself.

"Enough," I choke, as my arousal becomes too much. His response is simply plunging further into me, to lick all the way from my ass, to clit.

Steam floods my stomach, lighting me on fire. A raging flame consumes my very being, and I relish in how dirty and dangerous this encounter is -in public on his knees for me, Logan made it known that I'm his, and he let me know, that he couldn't care less who heard us, because I was his.

"You're disturbed," I breathe, and his chuckle resonates louder when he separates from my damp skin. "You love it," he states with a smirk and an arch of his brow. He then runs his tongue over his soaked lips, and I bite back a groan, sighing, "I do."

Lifting, moving my palms to his shoulders, I capture his top lip, sucking on it as a thank you. I grin, and as if he can hear my jest coming from a mile away, he scoffs and turns to hide his smirk.

"And you must lovveee me," I repeat my earlier comment with even more enthusiasm, and he shakes his head.

He rises and I do the same. Logan then goes in for a kiss to shut me up, but just as he does, I catch his mumble of "I do."

I gasp into his mouth, eyelids stretching.

My lids briskly flutter shut when he deepens the kiss, dipping my figure, rather romantically, and we both smile.

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choism · 1 year ago

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Jester's Game | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Pirate!afab!Reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff (If you squint)

Summary: Trying to overtake Captain Buggy's ship leaves you asking questions, and surprisingly, getting answers

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: top!buggy, afab!reader, unprotected sex (pls dont), cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, squirting, rough sex, gentle sex (yeah wild), inappropriate use of detached limbs, spit as lube (also a no no), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

A/N: WOOHOO ITS MY FIRST NON KPOP FIC!! I knew I would write for other stuff eventually but I definitely did not expect it to be a recent hyperfixation. Buggy just has me bricked up okay! Anyway I hope y'all enjoy, don't forget to let me know what you thought of the fic in the tags !

It’s a rather unfortunate series of events, really. Sure, you could’ve told your navigator to sail away from the ship with the giant clown crossbones flag. Yeah, it might’ve helped if you had told your crew that they were about to fight some of the toughest pirates in the East Blue. But where’s the fun in that? As their captain, it’s your job to seek the adventure, and well, this was an adventure all right.

It started with you telling your men to approach, cannons firing, your crew hopping their ship, the infamous ship commandeered by none other Buggy The Clown. Yes, the ship your measly crew has decided to board. Listen, it was strategic! Buggy had somehow gotten the map to the grand line back, and your ship just so happened to be within the vicinity of his, so why not seek the opportunity to take it? Well that was your first mistake.

Now, you find yourself here, hands bound behind your back and kneeling with your crew in front of Buggy’s stupid, dumb throne in his stupid, dumb circus tent cabin.

“You all truly are fools for thinking you could take on my band of freaks,” Buggy lazily sprawls over his throne, seemingly unimpressed by your, in his words, ‘lackluster crew’.

“It’s funny actually, how pathetic it was, I mean even Mohji got in a few punches! Ha! Truly a fine show.” The man you assume being the Mohji that Buggy had just poked fun at, slumps his shoulders sadly at his jab. “Now, time to get to the good stuff…” Buggy trails off, standing up and taking a few strides in your direction, his dirty boots stopping directly in front of you. He detaches his hand and uses it to lift your head, pointing your chin up to look him in the eye.

Looking up, you spit and it lands on his cheek, he simply swipes it off with his attached, gloved hand. “So what if you defeated us, it doesn’t make you any better of a pirate, and doesn’t get you any closer to the One Piece.” You tilt your head and smirk. He may have overcome your crew, but he will never overcome your overwhelming ego and pride. It matches his just as equally.

“Ah, that's where you’re wrong, princess,” His grin is just as wide as yours, and briefly you’re confused, what could he mean? “Given your set of thieving skills, probably some of the best in the East Blue, I’ve heard, you’re gonna join my band of freaks, and I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart,” Buggy removes his hand from your chin, and it floats to his arm, re-attaching itself.

“Boys, throw their crew overboard, we have no use for them.” He rolls his eyes and sits back on his throne, “Oh! And go show them to their new quarters, make them feel at home.” Buggy laughs a deep boisterous laugh, one that genuinely sends shivers down your spine.

The pirates lead you into, what is actually, quite a nice room in the lower deck of the cabin, lit by a few candles, and a cot in the corner. Surprisingly, they cut you out of your ropes, and shut the door without locking it. What’s their deal? Don’t they know you can escape at any time if you wanted? Sneak out and steal one of their emergency boats, and sail to the nearest Island? Granted, you aren’t sure where the nearest Island is, you’re a thief, not a navigator.

Instead of worrying about escaping, you roam the small room, admiring your surroundings. The whole ship is clown themed, front he flags to the cabin to everything, but this room is different. Not a single sign of jester-like decorations anywhere. In fact, it’s as if this cabin was decorated specifically for you. Before you can think more of it, the door opens suddenly.

Buggy enters, and closes the door behind him. When he enters you’re sitting on the cot, legs crossed and unamused.

“Not thinking about escaping? Not that you could anyway, we are miles away from the nearest island, and realistically it would take you days to get there on one of our measly boats.” He rolls his eyes, as if annoyed by how small and fragile the boats are, before sitting backwards on the chair at the short desk next to the cot.

“So what do you even need a thief for? Why am I here?” You blurt, already growing impatient from the lack of information being given to you.

“I need you for many reasons, being a thief is only one of them, sweetheart.” Buggy grins and removes his hat, setting it on the desk. “You already have connections at the grand line, and while I know you need my map to get there, I know that you know the people I need to talk to, to gain safe entry without slaughtering half the fucking pirates there.” He leans back and relaxes a bit, observing your facial features.

“And why do you think any of the people I know would want to help you? You’re just some lowly pirate.” You spit at him, angered by his casualness. In what world would you even willingly help him? Who does he think he is?

“Ha…Me? A lowly pirate? This coming from the literal captain of a crew is hilarious! Tell me another joke, please.” He grins knowingly, he knows how to get a rise out of you for sure. You look over his facial expression, smugness overtakes his face and it makes your stomach twist, not with disgust though for some odd reason, with another feeling you don’t quite recognize.

This whole situation has you feeling all kinds of anxious. How did you just happen to raid the ship of a pirate who just happened to need you for this specific thing, and why is his presence making you feel so…weird? Something isn’t right here, and it can’t be because of your connections to the grand line. No, he’s hiding something.

“What are you hiding, clown? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

His face drops, and he gets suddenly very serious, “Listen here, princess,” Buggy gets up from the chair and gets close to you, leaning down, your noses almost touching. “You’re gonna get me to the grand line, I don’t care if I have to torture it out of you, got it? No more questions tonight.” He gets up and suddenly grins very brightly, as if nothing ever happened. “Night night!” Buggy walks out and slams the door, then you hear a locking sound.

Fuck, he locked you in your room. You should’ve expected this, honestly. The way he reacted to your question was so strange. You knew there was something fishy, but you didn’t think whatever it was could’ve prompted that kind of reaction out of him.

***

The next day you wake up to yelling outside of your cramped room. Yawning, you get up and put your ear to the door,

“I’m sorry Captain Buggy! I didn’t know that was their ship I swear I promise!”

You hear what sounds like a kick to the jaw and a yelp,

“Didn’t know? Didn’t know?! You couldn’t tell by the giant crossbones flag that very obviously bares their symbol? I’m tired of you, someone go throw him off the deck.”

You hear screams and pleads of “No please!” and “I didn’t know I’m sorry captain!” before hearing water splash, then silence, then- oh shit footsteps coming towards your room. You scramble back to your cot and lay down, pretending to sleep. You hear a couple of knocks before hearing a feint “What the fuck am I doing, I go where I want!” Before Buggy barges into the room after unlocking it.

“Get up, I know you heard everything.” He spits gruffly, sitting back in the chair again the same way as yesterday. You sit up abruptly. Last night you couldn’t shake this feeling, of what you felt when Buggy had gotten so serious, and it’s just gotten worse being in his presence. Your abdomen feels hot, your ears feel hot, everything feels hot. It’s like butterflies in your stomach if the butterflies were armed with knives.

“Yes, I did hear, what do you mean by my symbol? I thought bumping into you was a coincidence?” Buggy smiles faintly, and chuckles.

“Yes, it was, I wasn’t informed of what ship we attacked, just that my men captured you all, oh but when I saw you…I knew.” Buggy stands up and motions for you to do the same, getting so close to you, your chests almost touch. He brings his hand to your arm, caressing down the length before gripping your wrist harshly, causing you to wince. “Do you….” he trails off, “Do you really not remember me?” He brings his eyes from your arm to your face, making direct eye contact.

You struggle to find words, what does he mean, remember? Yeah, he gives you a strange feeling everytime you're near him, but you’ve never met this man in your entire life. You think. Honestly you can’t remember anything before the age of seventeen.

“I– no, no I don’t…”

His smile fades, and he lets go of you, “I thought you would remember once you saw me, we were on Gold Roger’s crew together years ago, but you went missing after a particularly tough battle.” He pauses, thinking carefully about what to say next, “You– We– We were close, and I was devastated, I thought you were dead.” He’s being surprisingly vulnerable right now, and it’s kind of scaring you.

“I don’t really remember anything before I turned seventeen, All I know is one day I woke up on an island, a group of pirates took me in, I left, and I’ve been on my own since. The only reason I am where I am today is because I wanted to find who I was, and I figured I could find that out at the grand line.” You feel overwhelmingly sad. Why are you sad? You don’t even know him.

There’s a long silence between the two of you, it’s uncomfortable, tight, and makes you want to leave, until he says, “Let me show you.” He says abruptly, and you think you see a blush across his face.

“Sorry, I mean, please,” Buggy steps into your space again, this time his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes, back to your lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find you, I’m sorry you had to go through that, I missed you so much y/n” That was the first time he’s said your name this entire time, but it’s not one you recognize.

“Is that my name?” Your lip quivers, he’s so close now, your lips are inches apart.

“Yes it is, y/n, sweetheart, princess, I’ll call you whatever you want, just let me show you.” The thick air has disappeared and is now replaced with tension. Something deeper, heavier, fills the room. But it’s not a bad thing.

“Let me show you who you were to me.”

You let his face drop to yours, and your lips finally connect.

The kiss is slow, languid. It’s like his lips were meant to connect with yours. Buggy wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you in closer, and kissing you deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you let him kiss you as deep as he wants. The pace quickens and he slots his leg in between yours, rubbing against your pants and providing much needed friction.

You moan into his touch and he walks the both of you backwards until the back of your knees reach the bed. He lowers you onto it and hovers above you, kissing you again before departing. “Is this okay?” Buggy asks, brushes his hands underneath the bottom of your shirt, slowly lifting it.

“Only if you return the favor.” He chuckles and lowers his head to your neck, sucking and biting gently while riding up your shirt until your chest is exposed. You sit up briefly to take off your shirt and as promised, he does the same. He isn’t overly ripped like most pirates are, but he’s still well toned. His muscles flex as he shifts lower, kissing down your chest, down your stomach and stopping just above the navel.

“When I saw you were the one my men captured, it took my breath away,” He lifts your hips so he can remove your pants and undergarments, “I was scared, anxious, I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended I knew you for your skills, not for your past.” After removing everything, he pushes back, kissing your thighs before sitting up, taking his gloves off with his teeth and throwing them to the side. Man that was hot.

Buggy detaches one of his hands and lets it roam up your torso, reaches your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze. Before leading his fingers over your mouth, asking for entry. You grant it and his index and middle finger slip into your mouth, swirling your saliva around and coating them generously. “When you suspected I knew more, I didn’t know what to do. When you boarded I just knew you by name, not face, there was no way I could’ve expected this.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and moves it down to your center, rubbing through your folds gently and inserting two fingers, scissoring you open and prepping you for what's to come. Buggy uses his still detached hand to remove his own trousers, his cock springing free from its confines. He strokes it slowly, clearly getting off to his detached hand fingering you open.

“Buggy…” You moan, you can’t even reply or form a sentence, the pleasure too good.

“Shhh just relax sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.” He brings his hand away from your now dripping cunt, reattaching it and leaning down. You feel his breathe over your core, he kisses your clit before taking it in his mouth, lapping up your taste and fucking you onto his tongue. You can feel your orgasm approaching quickly as he flits between sucking on your clit and tonguing inside of you, but he pulls away.

“Fuck! Why’d you–”

You’re interrupted by his cock entering you and your legs being lifted by his hands so he can enter as deep as possible. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. His cock fits so nice and feels so good and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Fuck you’re so tight and wet for me, so fucking good huh? Letting me fuck you like this.” His pupils are so blown out, he watches his own cock pull out and start to thrust into you, it just fuels your arousal further. Buggy starts out slow, just getting you used to his size before he picks up the pace, fucking into you even deeper and faster.

“Shit, gonna cum Buggy please.” He moves your legs to prop onto his shoulders and he grabs onto your waist, pushing down and holding you in place as he fucks into you roughly.

“Gonna cum for me? Go ahead sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He moves his hand over your abdomen and presses down, the pressure making you feel dizzy. You feel white hot, the band finally snapping as you come. “Fuck, gonna cum soon too, gonna fill you up so good.”

Buggy relentlessly fucks into your cunt, overstimulating you and causing a pressure to build that’s unfamiliar. “Wait Buggy I, fuck I feel weird it feels good.” Soon, with a loud cry you feel a wetness rush between your legs, causing you to let out a loud string of moans and curses.

“Squirting for me already? God you’re full of surprises. Shit, I’m coming.” A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his hot cum fill you up, as promised. It feels so good. He slows down and pulls out, his load leaking out of you and onto the sheets below. “So good for me.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing you gently. He cleans the both of you up quickly and gets dressed, ready to go back to his quarters for the night.

“Wait Buggy, before you go…” You trail off and he turns around, listening intently. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me more about my- about our, past? I need to know where I came from, what happened.” Buggy smiles gently, walking up and kissing you on the forehead.

“Of course princess, later”

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown smut #buggy the clown x reader #opla smut #opla x reader #op smut #op x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy #buggy the clown

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jujutsukgojo · 1 year ago

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The boy in art

gangster!Sukuna x reader

Chapter Two

Summary:

Minutes later you hear screams and more gunshots. None inside though. You peek around to see a group of men shoot others. Quickly, you turn around, so you don’t see anything. You don’t want to.

Tears stream down your face. This isn’t you! You aren't cut out for this. You did not sign up for all of this!

"You know you're my girl, right?"

a/n: Not the best but oh well. i was supposed to write something for Gojo because of his birthday yet here i am with sukuna i dont own jjk tw: implied violence, vandalism, implied drug deals, etc. fast paced! ooc sukuna (oh well :)) fast paced! characters: Reader, Sukuna, OC, Nobara, mentioned Megumi and yuuji, and a little mahito (sorry)

As you are walking to your classroom, you hear swearing. The hallway is empty and brightly lit. You are the only one here now since you decided to arrive early for class. Entering the classroom, you sit your bag down. Much to your annoyance, the noises don’t stop. Curious, you get up to go to the source.

In the middle of the hallway is a window. You open it to see two men talking. Everything is normal until you see what is in their hands. You gasp, causing the two men to look at you. “What are you two doing?”

“Mind your own business.” The one with pink hair and tattoos says. “You can’t do that here!”

“Get inside, little girl.” The other rolls his eyes at you and leaves. “There, you happy? It’s all over now.”

“Whatever you do in your free time is up to you. But you cannot do this here.”

“You own this place?” He gestures the area.

“No, I take classes here.” He pops out a cigarette and lights it. You noticed that his ears move a little when he does that. “Then why are you so pressed about it?”

“This is my school!” He looks around at the building. “That’s your name?”

“Why would my name be “Community College”, dumbass?” The pink haired man shrugs. “The hell I know. What is it anyway?”

“This is a community school that offers art co-”

“Now look who’s the dumbass, you’re just as stupid as I am. I mean your name.” He interrupts you. You bite your lip and tap your fingers.

“(Y/n). What's it to you?” You place your hands on the windowsill. He laughs and walks away. “Nothing at all. See you later.” You slam the window shut.

It isn’t your business, yeah, but it is around you. They can say whatever about you who cares. However, you don’t want that type of shit anywhere near you. With a goal in mind, you cannot afford to be bothered with that.

Over-achiever, prude, rude, and whatever else they say. Let them talk. It will be you who has a good, decent, life that is secure and stable.

“He was cute though.” You won’t ever see him again. There is nothing to hold onto.

---

Your professor points to the stack of papers on his desk. “For those who would like to, the papers are right here to fill out. Turn them in accordingly and on time.”

This is what you have been waiting for. Your heart is racing. Finally, you got an opportunity for an internship at the art museum. With your good grades you should be a shoo in for the position. After class, you get up and grab a paper to fill it out. Since you have some time on your hands, you fill it out right then. It is not every day that the museum allows interns.

With the final signature of your name, you turn in the paper. Leaving the room, you exit the school with a pep in your step. Lo’ and behold, there is the pink haired guy at the corner of the street. You roll your eyes and walk past him, mentally kicking yourself for forgetting your headphones.

“So that’s how it is?”

You shouldn’t acknowledge him. “What do you want?”

He hisses as if you hurt him. “You’re not going to say hello?”

Rolling your eyes, you ask, “Why the hell would I do that for?”

He chuckles and leans back further onto the wall. “No reason at all.”

Scoffing, you walk away. “Sukuna!” He yells. You turn around and ask what he meant. “That’s my name, Sukuna.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

“Alright then, brat.”

You smack your lips and leave. He's bad news. As pretty as he is, he’s no good. You have all this going for you, you can’t afford to be around him. With the possible internship, your part time job, to school, you can’t be associated with him.

You take out the store’s keys to open the door. A little bell goes off when you do. You set your things down on the counter and open the blinds. Nobara had been here earlier, so there was not much else to do. And by the looks of things, business was slow.

Even though it is a small shop, you don’t want it to close. You don't really see bookstores like this anymore. Unfortunately, closure may be soon since you, Nobara, and the owner are the only workers.

After settling down, you flip the sign to ‘open’. Nobara didn’t finish putting the newly donated books away. Sighing, you check the books and push the small cart to the aisle so you can put them away.

You hum a light tune until the bell dings. “Welcome!”

Pushing the cart to the front, you greet the person with a smile. They tell you what they’re looking for in exchange for the bag full of classic books they give you. As mandatory, you study the books for any rips, stains, writings, drawings, and other signs of wear that would make the book ineligible to be donated.

Only three of them passed.

“Alright, you have a credit of five. You can use it now or later.” They frown. “I just gave you a shit ton of books?”

“Yeah, but other than these three, the rest are too messed up for us to take.” Please, don’t argue.

And of course, your prayers go unanswered as they begin to raise their voice at you. “Stop yelling. Please understand that these books here,” You push them towards the owner. “Are in terrible condition. I cannot take them.”

They really are. A giant coffee stain in one, a ripped page in another, and one of the covers are barely together. The three that passed inspection barely made the cut. They will have to be half price.

“I’ll take my business elsewhere then.” Tired of them, you push the three towards them as well. “Here. Please go.”

They huff and shove all their books into the plastic bag. Grouching and complaining, they slam the door open and leave.

It isn’t every day that this happens but lately it is becoming common. Ever since summer vacation is over, there have been a few students here and there looking for books. Mainly, textbooks. Unfortunately, not many people donate them. Even if they did, many schools tend to switch books frequently, which makes textbooks age like milk and practically useless.

Still, donations would be nice to those who still need those editions.

Rubbing your hands together, you put on a pot of coffee. If you are going to have to deal with customers, you should at least have a pot or so.

The bell dings again. Your day is ruined by that one worm, so you don’t smile. Dramatic? Yes. Do you care? No.

The customer walks to one of the aisles and begins to search. You'll be of assistance if they need help. The pot of coffee is not brewing fast enough. It is about halfway done by the time the customer comes to the front. You face the customer and don’t quite know what to expect when it is that one pink haired guy from before.

“You stalking me, sweets?”

“No, I work here! You are stalking me.”

“If you say so.” He places the book on the counter. Quickly, you check it out, not wanting to talk to him more than you have to. “Hey, why are you so rude?”

“I’m not rude.” You say in a matter of fact-tone. “Yeah, you are. I’ve been nice to you all day and you’ve been so snooty.”

“I am not snooty.” You cross your arms and frown. It is the condescending feeling he’s giving, and the fact that he thinks he knows you so well.

No one knows you better than you.

“What do you call all that then?”

“Goal oriented.” He hums and runs his tongue along his teeth. “What are your goals?”

You begin to check out his books. “Art. You?”

You don’t tell him the ultimate goal, of course. And like almost every person in your predicament, it’s stability, security. You're tired of the unknown and the possibility of losing everything. Tired of caring for everyone and everything else because of someone else’s irresponsibility.

You want to live and do it for yourself.

“Normal stuff.”

You look up at him with an eyebrow raised. “ It'll be ten fifty, please.”

He hands it to you in cash. His book is placed in the store’s bag. Before he can leave, you shoot him a question. “You don’t read, do you?”

“Not much.” He leaves you.

----

After meeting him, you end up seeing a lot of Sukuna. He comes by the store every day to bother you, teases you, and walks you to school. Lately you’ve noticed the crime rate going up, but not a single crime is near you. For a bit, the owner was scared for the shop. Fortunately, nothing has happened. Nobara, of course, is suspicious but you can’t blame her.

Out and about with Sukuna, you reveal that you take care of your baby sister. Even though Sukuna has become a constant in your life, you are still leery about them meeting. “You understand, right?”

He carries the items you intend to buy. “Yeah, I’d be freaked if you were too eager.”

“It’s just the damn crime rate’s up and we just met-”

“And here we are.”

“Shut up. Anyway, I’m being cautious.” Sukuna chuckles. “I know. You don’t have to explain,”

You smile at him. Talking to him is so refreshing. There isn’t pressure and you don’t have to watch what you say. The two of you come together so naturally.

“What do you know about the crime rates anyway?” You pick up a candle and smell it first, then have him smell it. Sukuna hums and gives you a slight, ‘gimme’. You place a candle in his large hand.

“I know that they’re becoming more frequent. Way more violent, too. Not much as robbing as it is assaults and murder and drugs.”

“Murder?”

“Yep. Just the other day, a guy was in an ‘accident’ and what did they find? A message carved on his stomach or something. It's crazy!” It was on the news. The accident is believed to be staged, obviously. You found out about it at work. Nobara and you of course had your theories and assumptions on what the message could have been and who the culprit was.

“Well, don’t worry about all of that, alright? You're fine.” You side eye him as you put your items on the belt to check out. Immediately, he cuts in front of you to pay. “You don’t have to...”

“I’m doing it anyway.”

Most of it is for your sister anyway. A coloring book and crayons, some fruit snacks, a toy that she’s been wanting for months, and a cheap pair of sneakers. The candle was something on sale that you picked up on a whim.

“Sukuna, you don’t have to. I'm serious.”

He carries the bags. “Always this stubborn? You can’t even accept help?”

“I’m used to doing it all.” You awkwardly laugh as guilt settles in your gut. It makes you so uncomfortable knowing someone else bought your sister’s things. You have been taking care of her for so long, it’s weird.

He stares at her little shoes. “You need to relax, sweets.” After noticing that you are still uncomfortable, he adds, “I enjoy it. Let me take care of you.”

Your head is down so he can’t see how wide your eyes have gotten. The last time someone took care of you, you were a child and your sibling wasn’t thought of. Now, Sukuna, someone you met not long ago, wants to?

After all these years, you don’t know how to handle that.

You find yourself at another store trying on the cheapest shoes there. Sukuna comes up to you with an adorable pair of kid shoes. “What size shoe do you think I wear?”

“They’re not for you, dumbass. They’re for the kid.”

“She already has a pair, remember?”

He rolls his eyes. “And now she has two. And these are better.” You sigh, giving up on explaining that she’ll grow out of them in no time.

“Here, put these on.” You sigh as he gently places a heel on your foot. It's black and with the finest leather and comes to a delicate point. “What am I going to wear this for?”

Sukuna buckles the straps on your ankle. “For me.” You scowl at his smirk and laughter at your expense. “Here, look,”

He has you stand in front of a mirror. “See how good you look?” You hum in response. They're pretty and make you feel pretty. You find them to be a pair that’ll fit for different occasions. “What’s not to like, sweets?”

You suck in your lips. “You’re right, fine. I do look good in them.” You would have been able to keep that mindset had you not seen the price point. “They’re hideous, put them back.”

“They’re yours.”

“I can’t afford them.” He has already done too much. Sukuna rolls his eyes at you. “I can.”

All the pairs of shoes ring up to a ridiculous amount. You can’t even look at it or Sukuna. He grabs your chin. “Stop it.”

No matter what, the feeling of guilt and unease is too strong to just ignore.

The next time you see Sukuna, you are at a park during your lunch break. In your bag are art supplies that you thought of bringing in case you got bored. Now, it is just up to finding what to draw.

“Sweets, what’re you doing out here?” You shrug your shoulders. He sighs and sits down next to you on the grass. “Why are you still mad?”

“I’m not mad. I'm just not used to it. I'm always the one taking care of things and you pop up taking my responsibility away...I don’t like it.”

He plucks the blades of grass. “I will only say this once. So, fucking listen," He takes a deep breath and mumbles, "I’m sorry. I wanted to do something for you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sukuna. You couldn’t.” Sukuna looks at the birds in the sky flying freely. In the silence between you two, you take it. With each stroke Sukuna manifests on the paper. The essence of peace and security is slowly being captured on the canvas.

“What’re you doing you little brat?” He takes a peek at it. It is a rough version of him. It captures the serenity and beauty of him, though. “Hm.”

“Do you like it?”

“Hm.” Is all he says with the slightest curve of his lips and tiniest hint of pink on his cheeks. Although this is also picturesque, you’ll keep this part of Sukuna for yourself. For your blessed eyes only.

Soon, the rough portrait is done. You are so focused on it, you don’t see the softness in his eyes, but you do feel the roughness of his calloused fingertips as they caress your face in adoration.

------

“(Y/n), I'm just saying I saw him there. Not that he did anything!” Nobara exclaims after sipping her overly sweet coffee.

“Well, it sounds like it.” The two of you have been going back and forth for about thirty minutes because Nobara saw Sukuna standing and acting suspiciously. And, well, doing what you thought he did when you first met him.

Not that you’d admit it.

“Damn it, Nobara. What were you doing there anyway?” You ask as you pour yourself a cup of strong coffee. You need something to distract you. Anything to deflect this.

“Don’t do that. I was passing by to go to the fucking station. He was out in the open.” After a moment or two of complete silence, she breathes. “I want you to be safe and know what you’re getting into.”

Immediately you scoff.

“You act like he’s some dangerous criminal ready to chop me up into little pieces. Would a criminal tuck my sister into bed? Or let me read to him? Keep my paintings and support me? Protect me? Or-”

“Oh my God. I’m not saying he isn’t sweet to you. I am just telling you what I saw!”

“Am I interrupting?” Both of you turn around to see a tall man stand there with his eyebrows raised. You suck in your lips and shake your head no. Nobara recovers quicker than you and smiles at the man.

“No, no, no! Just a tiff among friends. Y'know, friends who look out for each other and recognize danger.”

Your eye twitches but you don’t retaliate. Not when there is a much needed customer.

“Have a look around! Let us know if you need anything.” You put on a smile for the man. He nods and looks around. There is something off about him. At first, you think the cold aura is in your head, but Nobara sticks close to you with the same thing in mind.

He's dangerous. Something is wrong.

What is he doing here? No way is he actually looking for a book. All he’s doing is looking at the walls and pretending to skim the novels. Nobara grabs your hand and squeezes. She's shaking and he hasn’t even done anything remotely threatening.

Maybe it is the way he moves. Gracefully, like a ghost. Or the muscles that form his body that his shirt struggles to contain. It doesn’t look like he has a weapon on him. Perhaps it isn’t needed.

What is this heaviness around him? The chill you get when he turns the corner of every shelf. How he looks at you with a curious and studying gaze. Is this bloodlust? The hair on your arms is raised. Nobara, who isn’t afraid of anything or anyone, is scared.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir?” You are pinching your thigh to keep a steady voice. “No.”

He grabs a random book that he didn’t even look at and places it on the counter. The nameless man says nothing when you ring it up. He pays with crinkled up cash and a wink in Nobara’s direction.

Once he leaves, she runs to the door and locks it. “Did you see what he did?!”

“What?”

She groans and explains that he checked out the store to rob it. “Why would he rob it? A bookstore of all places?”

“I don’t know...but tell me you weren’t scared!” You cannot deny it. There's something wrong.

Nobara goes out with Megumi and Yuuji to lunch immediately after. She makes you swear to lock the door and not let anyone in until she comes back. Lately, the usual busy time isn’t until another hour anyway, so it’s an easy promise.

You’re putting on another pot of coffee when the first shot happens. The bullet goes right through the pot that you’re holding and shatters the glass. A scream is caught in your throat. More bullets come through barely missing you. You duck and see the store’s merchandise suffer from the insanity.

You grab your phone and in a state of panic, call Sukuna and tell him everything. He can hear the glass and the wicked noise.

“Stay down, and crawl to the back hallway. I'll handle it.”

It was the hallway the man didn’t see.

You do as he says and wonder if you should call the authorities. Maybe Sukuna will. You don’t know why you called him instead of the police. It was just a quick reaction.

Minutes later you hear screams and more gunshots. None inside though. You peek around to see a group of men shoot others. Quickly, you turn around, so you don’t see anything. You don’t want to.

Tears stream down your face. This isn’t you! You aren't cut out for this. You did not sign up for all of this.

And yet, you don’t want to look outside and see what is happening.

The police did come after Sukuna came in through the backdoor. He told you that the bad men were gone and for you to tell the cops that the shop was attacked and that you hid the entire time. You did as you were told.

Who they were, why they were there, what could have happened to them? You don’t know. You were hiding.

The shop keeper was furious but grateful for your safety. Nobara, too. But she knows better.

-----

“What’d you doing now, brat?” Sukuna likes to bother you at work, home, and especially at the museum now that you got accepted as an intern. “Working!”

“That’s too heavy for you.” He grabs it. “Where do I put it?”

“Here.” You gently guide him on where to put the sign. After, he decides to stick around and help you with the heavy things. Of course, you watch as his arms flex whenever he picks something up.

“Hey, Sukuna,” you start. The two of you are alone right now with nothing but the art witnessing the conversation.

“What are we doing?”

He stops and furrows his brows. “What?”

“Like, what are we?” Do you really want to know his answer? Then again, the rejection will make it easier to let go, you think. Or maybe you want him to release you? To push you away so you don’t have to think about that night anymore.

He comes up to you from behind. Sukuna's arms wrap around you and his chin rests on your shoulder. “I’d like for you to be mine.”

You scoff and try to step on his toes. Playfully, Sukuna bites your ear, causing you to shriek and laugh.

“If you two are done now-”

You jump at the sound of your boss. “Sorry!” You grab your boyfriend’s hand and rush past her.

Boyfriend...wow.

-----

You tuck your little sibling into the bed. After reading their favorite book in the character’s voices, she went fast asleep. Sukuna wished her a goodnight on the phone, too. The smile she had on her face was picture worthy. She seems to like him a lot.

Although, you couldn’t tell her the truth as to why he wasn’t there in person. So, telling her that he was just at work sufficed.

After putting away her new shoes and the dinner dishes, you rest on the couch. The museum has a big showing tomorrow. All the lifting and organizing took a lot out of you. However, you are excited more than anything. He doesn’t know it yet, but your drawing of him got a place in the local’s art section.

Right as you close your eyes, your phone rings. “Hello?”

“Come to the museum, right now.” Your boss demands before she hangs up. Her tone gave you pause. Not because of how rude it was, but because of how stressed and worried.

Quickly, you put your sister’s shoes on and wrap her up in her blanket. Unfortunately, you don’t have anyone to watch her. Your mother is as useless as your father is.

“Where are we going?” She sleepily asks. “Sh, go back to sleep.” Immediately, she does.

Besides, you aren’t sure if you really want her to be awake during this.

Your breath is taken away at the sight. Flashing colors of the police cars illuminated the night. Everything you worked at was completely destroyed. The museum walls, the art, and most specifically, Sukuna’s portrait, are ruined.

Your boss is tapping her foot as she is lost in thought. Suddenly, she notices you. “There you ar-” She stops when she sees the bundle you are carrying.

“I didn’t have a babysitter.”

She takes a deep breath. “Look around. Do you see all of this? The museum is totaled.”

“I see that, ma’am.” She walks to you. “Your boyfriend’s picture in particular suffered.” She stops walking. “I need to know. Are you involved in this?”

“No! Not at all!”

“I won’t press charges on you. But I do need honesty.” Your eyes are wide. “I am serious! I really don’t know!”

You pray that she can hear the sincerity in your voice.

She sighs. “Ok, I believe you had nothing to do with it.” She looks down before she continues. “But I do not believe that you are ignorant as to why it happened. (Y/n), I’m going to have to terminate the internship.”

Your breath is caught in your throat. “F-for what?! I didn’t do anything!”

“You are a smart girl. You need to choose who you are around better.” She leaves you in the street, surrounded by darkness.

Your arms begin to get tired from your sister’s weight.

“Lord, I am so tired...” You whisper in the night.

After this, you didn’t get another internship. Not with Sukuna’s mark on you.

-----

You go to the park a few days later so your sister can play with the other kids. She wanted to call Sukuna and ask him to come. He never showed up even though he said he would.

By the time dusk broke, you packed everything and went home to think.

After the museum incident, you got blacklisted by other museums around the city. Even private artists avoid you. Your professor, naturally, heard of the incident and lectured you about safety and how you should not have taken the internship for granted.

It spread like wildfire. Your boss at the bookshop had a talk with you as well. Wanting to know if Sukuna was connected with the vandalism at the shop. You told him you didn’t know and that it was possible. He decided to let you keep your job, but you are on leave.

Nobara filled the room with ‘I-told-you-so's. Though she stopped when she saw your vacant expression.

Everything you worked for is crumbling around you. At least Sukuna is looking for the bastard who did it, right?

Sukuna kisses your cheek when he walks in. It's late and your little sister is already in bed. “I’m here. Sorry I'm late.” He settles down next to you, grabbing your hand and kisses it.

“Sukuna, we have to talk.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again. There was just a little hitch.” You shake your head. “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about it, either.” You reply quickly with a snappish tone.

He looks confused at first then his face settles in a raised eyebrow. “Look, Sukuna, I can’t continue to endanger my sister and I anymore.”

Sukuna sighs. “You won’t be. I took care of it.”

“I’m blacklisted and almost got fired. My boss is watching me tread on thin ice. I can’t lose my job or anything else.”

He says nothing but stares at you. “I think we should break up.”

Pain shoots through your heart as the words exit your trembling mouth. You really, really, like him. Maybe even love him. “No.”

“Sukuna-”

“I said no.”

“That’s not how it works. I can’t keep doing this. I'm losing everything because of you.”

“Me? You think I did all of this?”

“No! You are connected to it! Everything all leads back to you!”

He grabs your face gently but firmly. “I took care of it, (Y/n). You’re safe with me.”

“But my future isn’t!” You stand up. “I have dreams, goals, all of it! My sister does too!”

“I’ll give you it all, for fuck’s sake!” He stands up too.

“No, Sukuna. I'm not cut out for this life. Everything you do...it isn’t me.”

“Thank God you’re not doing it then, huh?” You want to touch his face. To comfort him and take back everything you said. At the same time, you want to shake him into understanding. “Sukuna, it’s over.”

He looks shocked. Like it is finally settling in that it is over, done. The lovely chapter is finished, and the page flipped.

“I love you, (Y/n).” The air is sucked out of the room. Neither of you have said it before. You always thought you’d be the first one to admit it. “I love you too. God knows I do. But I am so tired.”

You worked so hard for it all to crash down so suddenly. Those nights of the attacks were a special breed of terrifying. You could have died that day in the bookshop. The internship is gone, your work unsalvageable. The bookshop put you on unpaid leave.

He walks over to you and presses his lips to yours. Despite what has just been said, you fall into it with passion. He presses his forehead to yours.

“You know you’re my girl, right?” You don’t say anything. “Give the kid a hug for me, will ya?”

He leaves.

You cry.

____

Two years later

As it turns out, your gut feeling was right. The shop owner fired you when your weeklong leave was up. Nobara talks to you from time to time. You finished school quickly, too. Now, you have got a local factory job. Hell, you even sell a few art pieces here and there. It all pays decently but not enough to keep your old apartment. So, you had to get a smaller one in the less savory part of town. It’s alright as long as your head’s down.

You walk home with your sister in your arms. She talks about her school and her kindergarten teacher. Apparently, she does not like her and insists on calling her teacher a witch.

You try to pay attention but it’s hard to. Lately, your mind has been all over the place since the violence in the city has gotten a bit more frequent. From what you can tell, it is all due to one man: Sukuna Ryoumen.

At least, that’s what you heard. That he has gotten so big that the police won’t touch him and that this whole thing is just punishment for those who thought they could go against him. Whatever. It has nothing to do with you.

That's what you have to remind yourself. Sukuna's dangerous. Not just to others but to you and your sister, no matter how much your sister says the opposite. That he was kind and that there was happiness. She isn't wrong about that part. But just because he showed you a part of himself, does not mean it's enough.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” You look up to see a man with scars on his face. Long grey hair and heterochromia add to his uniqueness.

“We don’t want any trouble.” You try to ease the situation and go around him. “That’s just too bad. I like the fight.”

“Ew.” Your sister looks at him with disgust. Just as he gets ready to take another step, you hear a deep voice from behind him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Kuna!” Your sister calls with a big smile on her face. The man steps aside enough for you to see Sukuna stand there with his hands in his pockets. He has more tattoos and is bigger now. He’s stronger and looks a lot meaner than he did when you knew him.

The man with the grey hair sputters. “Sukuna! Long time no see! How ya been?”

“Ew.” Your sister says again. “Yeah, ew.” Sukuna agrees with her. Not that you don’t.

“I was just-”

“Get out of my sight.” The guy doesn’t wait. He takes off down the street so fast. Something tells you he won’t get far, though.

Awkwardly, you say, “Thanks...”

“You’re my girl, right?” He asks you. Your cheeks get warm at the question, but you don't answer. Not when the answer is obvious. Your sister jumps down and runs to him. Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to pick her up. He was always soft towards her.

“Come on, I'll take you two home.” A car pulls up, a model you can’t identify. He puts your sister inside and waits for you.

With a smile and warmth, you get inside.

#ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen #gangster sukuna #idk what else to tag i'm awful at it

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orangewisteria · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I'm the anon who asked you if you wrote for s//lf h//rm, so I'm here to request something related to it, that been said.

⚠TW: S3LF H4RM⚠ ⚠If you are triggered by this theme please do not interact, we care about your mental state! Thanks⚠

If it's not a problem could you maybe write separate headcanons for Cody, Alejandro, Duncan and Scott with a gn!s/o who they find h4rming theirself?

Thank you and Hope you have a nice day! <3

ᴰᴼᴺᵀ ᴴᵁᴿᵀ ᵞᴼᵁᴿˢᴱᴸᶠ ᴮᴬᴮᵞ

⚠ TW: S3LF H4RM ⚠

⚠ If you are triggered by this theme please do not interact, we care about your mental state! Thanks ⚠

ᶜᵒᵈʸ

-> hes crying a fucking waterfall when he finds you

-> hes trying not to hug you so tight and never letting you go

-> hes frantically running around to gather badnages, napkins, etc etc to help clean up your cuts

-> Hes desperately babbling to you and pleading with you to never ever do this again

-> Saying how if you need to talk to someone or rant or feel like hurting yourself to talk to him

-> Please for the love of all that is unholy in this world talk. to. him.

-> hes not going to let you out of his sight for a while

-> hes gonna baby proof his house now

-> going as far as to lock the coupards that contain chemicals and sharp objects

-> he contemplates getting a safe but goes against it cause he knows for a fact hell forget the password and have to buy new knives for his mother

-> he lives with his mother btw its facts

-> back to the topic at hand

-> he more careful aroudn you

-> treating you like porcelain cause he doesn't want to accidentally heart you (due to your recent injuries)

-> he calls them boo boos by the way

-> hes loving and is willing to do anything to help you

ᵃˡᵉʲᵃⁿᵈʳᵒ

-> hes clsoe to tears

-> hes keeping himself composed so he doesnt break down and panic right at that moment

-> hes carefully dressing your wounds and whispering his worries

-> hes calling you all the name sin teh book

-> princesa, carina/o, etc etc

-> i dont know much spanish lolz

-> anyways

-> once youre all cleaned up and in bed

-> hes holding you close and running his hands along your back

-> hes not going to let you out of his sight or out of arms reach for the next few months

-> he worried

-> he doesnt want to lose the lvoe of his life

-> hes trying not to break down each passing day as he sees the bandages on your body

-> hes runs his fingers over them daily, hes frowning as he does so

-> he changes them daily for you too

-> wont let you do it cause hes going to take care of you

-> hes a worried dead donkey :(

ᵈᵘⁿᶜᵃⁿ

-> hes frozen when he finds you

-> hes confused and worried and angry

-> he wants to know hy

-> why would you hurt yourself

-> why why why why

-> thats all thats on his mind

-> as well as the fact that hes blaming himself for letting you get this low when he most likely could have prevented it

-> hes slowly and uncharacteristically quiet as he helps cleaning up your wounds

-> bandaging them and staring at the with no emotion whatsoever

-> hes pulling you to bed and laying on your chest

-> hes just laying there and listening to your heartbeat

-> his arms are around your waist and hes unusually quiet for the next few days

-> he doesnt want to leave the house cause hes feeling down and soft and yada yada

-> he loves you and would do anything for you so hes a but angry at himself and trying to deal with it

-> give him some time and hes back to his normal self with a hint of more care and softness for you <3

ˢᶜᵒᵗᵗ

-> Hes wailing and blubbering out words you cant understand as he bandages you up to the best of his ability

-> its not the best and his fumbling words nd shit are making you laugh at the stupid words you can't even understand

-> hes glaring at you while sniffling but he understadns somewhat why youre laughing

-> although hes puffing his cheeks and pulling you clsoe

-> hes mad at you for laughing but he hears himself and blushes bright red

-> hes holding you close and never letting go

-> hes just here man

-> he doesnt know what to do at this point

-> so he just holds you close to comfort himself and you at the same time

-> i dont have much for him due to the fact that hes not too good with words

-> he tries to comfort you verbaly and shit

-> but he sucks at it

-> hes better with physical contact

1K notes · View notes

harrysmmm · 1 year ago

Note

hello, love! i originally put this in the comments but it might get lost in your notifications. anyway, if you are up for it, do you mind writing a second part for magically annoying? i need jealous draco 😩 anyway, if you do it may you please tag me in the comments or something so i am brought back and dont forget? thanks so much! dont feel pressured to write it 🩷🫶🏻

have a wonderful and lovely day/night <3

thank you love for the inbox! hope you like it !!! ♡

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Summary: where Harry and Draco have a crush on you at the same time and they both ask you to the yule ball. (part two)

part 1

W/C: 2.4K

Taglist: @mrsmikaelsxn @Iail1010

masterlist here

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Mixed feelings. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror. A long velvet dress was framing your body, embellishing every edge, every curve of it. Your shoulders were naked, leaving your collarbones with no room for imagination. You paired up the dress with cream high-heels that matched your hand purse.

“I swear this pin on my hair won’t stay put,” Hermione said from the other side of the room.

“I can’t believe you don’t have a spell for that, Hermione,” you teased a little bit.

“There’s no reason for a spell for hair, Y/N.” She approached your mirror and stood next to you. “Besides, I’ve tried to cast one and it’s not possible.”

“Are you guys talking about hair spells?” Luna Lovegood was standing at the doorframe of your dormitory. How the hell did she get in the Gryffindor common room? “I know a bunch of them. I made these two-side ponytails with one of them.”

“Well… you shouldn’t be here Luna!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Cool it off,” you advised here.

“I mean, this is the Gryffindor area. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Neville let me in. I’m going with him to the ball. Apparently, Ginny ditched on him. How curious, I thought she was after him, but guess she’s not.”

“Well, you look stunning, Luna,” you added. She did look pretty, in her own way. She was wearing an aluminium dress, or that’s what it looked like, coupled with hanging balls of cotton on the edges. Her face was decorated with shiny, glittery makeup.

“Thank you, Y/N. Your dress is really pretty, it highlights your body. I’m sure Harry is going to think the same.”

The name had been dropped. Harry. Harry Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. That was your date to the ball. After the incident with Malfoy, Harry was by far your safest bet. And besides, he did ask you first.

You had spent those past few weeks thinking how, when the moment would come, you wouldn’t think about the incident with Malfoy.

How you would not think about his eyes staring into yours with your wand up.

You would not think about him getting closer with a smirk on his face.

Not think about his eyes going up and down your body.

Think about his hand making contact with your waist.

His lips painfully slow when brushing yours.

His lips.

Draco Malfoy.

It was going to go downhill.

It was tradition that boys would get to the entrance first. They would all be waiting for their ladies to go down the stairs, greet them with a soft kiss on their hand, and show them to the Great Hall.

Hermione and Luna had already left - you were still passing your fingers through your hair in an attempt of putting it together. Although your hair was already in its place, you needed an outlet to where to put your twisting feelings on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again.

Why bloody Malfoy? Why him?

While you were trying to find an answer to the rhetorical question a silly smile got in your face.

No. No. No.

You were giggling like a twelve-year-old with a crush on another twelve-year-old. Pathetic.

Besides, the thought of him didn’t deserve any of your time. The butthead hadn’t even looked at you since the incident. In fact, his little pranks had become even more annoying, even more personal, if that could ever happen. He had faked a letter from Professor Snape that had put on your desk in Charms class. The letter described as followed:

“Miss Y/L/N, Your scores on the test about deadly potion mixing have been the lowest I have ever seen in all my teaching years in this school. I’m afraid you will be suspended in advance and hope to pass next semester. I won’t tolerate a Gryffindor mocking my course, nor my teaching methods. I must take 30 points off Gryffindor. Yours sincerely, Professor Snape P.S. the same applies to Potter. Also the points.”

You teared up that day. And if it wasn’t enough, when you went to see Snape and found out it was fake, he took ten points off Gryffindor for being so naive and believing it was true. He also took ten points off on Harry, for being, once again, mingled in the sauce.

And putting everything aside, you couldn’t lie to yourself and pretend you weren’t going to look for his face that night. You couldn’t pretend you were not going to wonder about what would’ve happened if you had said yes to him. How you would slow dance together; how everyone would think you were the most unthinkable couple, but that deep down you were killing the game.

You brushed all of those feeling off, looking at yourself in the mirror forcing it to be the last time. You turned around and headed to the stairs before the ball began.

Harry was patiently waiting for you. He had been looking on and off to the stairs since girls started to come down. He was really nervous about the whole situation and for the first time, it didn’t have to do with him being the centre of attention as one of the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. He was nervous because of you. He had been wanting to ask you out since the beginning of the course, but never had the guts to do it, knowing that a friendship was at stake. The moment you said yes to him after dinner, his belly exploded in thousands of butterflies, and he promised himself that he would try to act as a gentleman for you that night. Because you were the most lovable person he had ever met.

Suddenly, you made the entrance on the stairs. His gaze immediately went to you - how your hair fell perfectly from your shoulders; how the tale of the dress would follow your steps when you went down; how your eyes would magically swing between the stair steps and him. He was taken by the view. Once you had come down, he greeted you with his arm.

“Hey.”

He wanted to say how good you looked. He wanted to, but something blocked his throat, and he was almost unable to speak.

“Hum… you… hum… shall we?”

You got the hint. “We shall.”

You two got in the line of the champions, who as tradition, entered the ball first and opened it with the first dance. While McGonagall was counting you to make sure everyone was at their place, you scanned the room looking for a certain bleached one.

There you found him.

He had his arms crossed with Pansy Parkinson’s. He was gracefully talking to a Durmstrang student as if it was a sort of haute-classe yearly networking party. You hated how he seemed so unbothered, so natural. He looked naturally happy. You hated it because all you could do was fake.

You decided you were going to give him a little bit of a show.

The trumpets started echoing and everyone stood in both sides of the Great Hall, except the champions and their partners who were waiting for the sign to walk up to the dance floor. When McGonagall gave the green flag, the line started to move, every couple having their arms crossed with one another. You decided to hold Harry’s hand. He looked surprised at you but didn’t move his. You were walking down the aisle, most people noticing the subtlety of your tangled hands. You peripherally looked at Draco, and noticed he had a blank expression on his face when you passed next to him. Was that jealousy? Indifference? Oblivion? You couldn’t keep thinking of interpretations when Harry’s hand got to your waist, beginning just like that the first dance of the ball. You gracefully moved with him, having internalized the compass weeks prior. You swung from one side to the other for exactly three minutes and forty-six seconds when you stopped the dance, and everyone clapped. Harry’s eyes were mesmerized on yours, seeming oblivious to what was happening on the outside.

“Y/N, I-” He started a sentence, but he rapidly stopped talking, getting closer and closer as seconds went by.

Was he going to…? You couldn’t succumb to that happening.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” And just like that, you left the dance floor in everyone’s eyes.

You got in one of the cubicles of the restroom. You locked the door behind you and melted on the floor. You were so conflicted… why all of a sudden did Harry have so much interest in you? And why did Malfoy tell you all those things a month ago and didn’t even lock his eyes with yours since?

“Y/N?”

It was Hermione’s voice.

“Yeah, here,” you replied, getting up.

“You okay?,” she said.

“Yeah, just a sec.”

You flushed to pretend and got out of the toilet.

“You don’t look okay.” Hermione knew you all too well.

“Just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Did the people overwhelm you or did Harry do it?”

You waited a few seconds to reply. “Both.”

“About the people, the hardest part already ended, we already opened the ball. About Harry, you should hint him that you don’t feel the same.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“It’s inevitable. Sooner rather than later.”

She didn’t know about Draco. You hadn’t told a soul about what happened. Mostly because you didn’t understand it yourself, but also because keeping it a secret made it more exciting – it was like your chocolate sweet before bedtime. You wanted it all to yourself.

You went over to the sink and started washing your hands.

“And you with Viktor? Have you two talked a bit?”

“Well, he doesn’t really talk. In fact, he doesn’t talk at all.”

“Stunning,” you replied.

She grinned back at you.

You both exited the bathroom and went to both your respective dates. You saw Harry sitting down on one of the tables, talking to Ron. You joined them.

“Hey, sorry for earlier.”

“Hey. No, it’s fine. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries.”

“You wanna dance, maybe?”

“Sure.”

He gave you his hand and showed you to the dancefloor. A lively rock song was being played and both of you started moving to the rhythm, having fun more than dancing. That was until you looked at your left and saw that someone couldn’t stop staring at you. You and Draco locked eyes with each other while he was also dancing with Pansy.

He put his hand on her waist.

You placed your arms around Harry’s neck.

He pulled Pansy closer to him.

You slowly got closer to Harry’s face.

That was until Harry cut the scene.

“You wanna go for drinks?”

You were surprised. Wasn’t he into you? Why was he not adhering to what was happening, even if you weren’t technically doing it to him?

“Okay,” you replied.

You both exited the dancefloor and headed to the drinks counter. He served you some punch.

“Y/N, I-”

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall blurted, “you must come with the other champions for the ceremonial speech.”

“The ceremonial wha-”

“Come, come. There’s no time,”

He looked at you one last time before being swollen by McGonagall’s anxiety. You looked at him leaving until someone disturbed your moment.

“No more boyfriend, Y/L/N?” Draco’s voice made an alarm in your heart go on.

You looked right at him. “I could ask the same thing.”

He smirked at you.

“What are you drinking?”

“Why do you care?”

“Woo-hoo, you were swollen by a dementor or what?”

“So funny, aren’t you?”

“So pissy. It’s because Potter left you?”

“You know, you sound like a kindergarten.” You stopped looking at him and drank more of the punch.

“Now that your boyfriend left, what you doing tonight?”

“What do you mean? We’re in a ball.”

“I stick to my question.”

You sighed. “I will stay at the ball until I’m tired and I wanna go to sleep.”

“Pity, I thought you might wanna get your wand back. Taking into consideration that tomorrow we still have class.”

You looked back at him, astonished. “My wand? Did you take my wand?”

“Who said I did? I’m just making a point here,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders and smiling.

“Draco, where is my wand?”

“Funny you ask because, it will only appear if you really need it.”

You got the hint. You looked one last time at Draco and rolled your eyes. You exited the ball with fast steps and headed to the seventh floor, left corridor, where the Room Of Requirements could be found. You closed your eyes and focused on your wand. Suddenly, where there was before a wall a door appeared. You got in.

The room was full of antic objects. You started by looking at the floor to see if Draco had thrown it, but you couldn’t see it. It was going to be impossible will all the number of objects.

“Looking for this?”

Draco’s voice echoed in the room. You turned around and there he was with your wand in hand.

“Draco, I’m done with your silly games. Give it back.”

“Come take it.” He kept it in one of his pants’ pockets.

“Draco,” you sighed, still you stood in front of him

You put one of your hands in his pocket to grab the wand and he immediately got closer to you. So close your lips were almost brushing each other.

“Hi,” he said.

You didn’t reply and with the willpower you have left, you tried to grab the wand. He got even closer, his crotch making contact with you. He had a boner.

You paralyzed and eventually, looked up at his eyes.

He was staring at you with no smile this time. He looked desperate and lustful. He pulled your head towards his, and his lips made their way to yours.

He started kissing you softly, only both of your lips playing with one another. Then he started introducing his tongue and biting your lower lip so hard it made you moan. You grabbed his neck and pulled him closer to you. He moved one of his hands to your ass and squeezed it a few times. He let out a moan.

“The Room of Requirements,” you started saying between kisses, “only opens when you need it.” He tried to shut you up with his mouth but you continued. “How did you get in?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked you, ending the kiss and staring into your eyes. “I needed you.”

Enamoured. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine

497 notes · View notes

yurislotusgarden · 11 months ago

Note

Hii!! I have a request if thats okay!! :) i love your works btw! Keep up the good work and dont forget to drink, eat and sleep well!<3

So i was thinking of Chuuya, Dazai, Nikolai, and any others if you wanna add with a reader with a ability who can talk, see and hear ghosts! I think its very cool and it barely has any recognition.. Its like toritsuka (from saiki k!) but the reader is less pervy.. and if its okay; can the reader be female? Its okay if its not!! I dont mind!!

So the reader has this ghost ability thing and they used to get bullied and shamed for it because people caught her talking to nothing but she was talking to ghosts, so she became insecure of their ability and sees it more like a curse. So technically a socially akward reader?

If you arent taking requests then you can ignore this!!

Also can i be 💞 anon?

ʚїɞ Separate! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Nikolai Gogol x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ word count: 3208

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names used, reader’s gender is not specified in any way bcs of how I wrote this

ʚїɞ We're gonna ignore how long it has been since I posted, dear 💞 anon I'm so sorry bcs of how long this has been in my inbox ;-;, I decided to wait with writing this until I watched some of saiki k so I could understand the ability at least a little, Nikolai's part is damn short bcs I didn't really have any ideas for him </3, Only Dazai's part was proofread, I'm gonna edit this post later on to correct mistakes on Chuuya's and Nikolai's parts since the person who grammar checks my works is on a short break rn

ཐིཋྀ He loves it

ཐིཋྀ This idiot didn't even realize that you have an ability at first because you didn't show any kind of signs😭

ཐིཋྀ He thought you didn’t have one like Ranpo but was told by Kunikida that you do, however, what it is was gonna remain a mystery until you decided to tell him yourself

ཐིཋྀ He found out on a mission where you guys had to chase down a guy with the ability to create a smokescreen

ཐིཋྀ Was about to say that it's over for the day because the guy was gone before you two could realize it (He had a plan to get the man anyway but didn’t feel like it) but then saw you talking to… air???

ཐིཋྀ Like you were just standing there while looking up and seemingly talking to someone

ཐིཋྀ You ignored his ass when he asked wtf you were doing

ཐིཋྀ The brunet was confused until you finally turned to look at him and said that you know where the guy went

ཐིཋྀ You had to briefly explain your ability when you walked to where the guy ran off to

ཐིཋྀ He does anything to make you more open about your ability because he adores it <3

ཐིཋྀ He wishes you showed your ability off more AND HE VOICES IT OUT

ཐིཋྀ Odasaku is his guardian ghost so you told him without thinking about it since most of the time a person doesn't know the ghost protecting them

ཐིཋྀ He actually teared up when he realized you were serious and that Odasaku was watching over him :(

ཐིཋྀ He told you about Oda after that

ཐིཋྀ He randomly asks you if you see a ghost nearby when you two are outside (does it inside buildings too)

ཐིཋྀ He does it a lot

ཐིཋྀ Please hit him

ཐིཋྀ Dazai said that he wanted to kill your past bullies and you didn't believe him -he was serious-

ཐིཋྀ And no, he didn't find dirt on those people, not at all

ཐིཋྀ And he totally didn't use it later, not at all :)

ཐིཋྀ He once asked if you ever used it to cheat in school (let’s say you had a normal enough life like Tanizaki’s or something) and when you said yes he nearly yelled out “That’s my girl!” with a grin Kunikida scolded him for being loud, and for not doing his paperwork

ཐིཋྀ Sometimes he hears you talk without looking over and assumes you’re talking to him before realizing that no, it’s actually to a ghost that’s in the room

ཐིཋྀ Once Kunikida and he had a mission but the brunet was not getting up from the couch, so you walked up and after a few seconds you told him that there was a ghost, butt naked, right by his face

ཐིཋྀ He did not look up to see if you were lying or telling the truth, he just jumped up from that couch without a second thought before he was gone out the door. He only realized that you lied once they were back and you were laughing at him with Ranpo

///////////////////////////

Seiji thought he had everything planned out. He really was sure that there was no way to find him after he ran away from the two detectives. After all, who would search for a running thief in the damn sewers when there were so many better places that could’ve been used to hide in the area?

The plan was in fact a good one, in fact. Kuwahara made it look like he was going towards the warehouses nearby to camp out, while in reality, he came down to the sewers using the ladders, as there was one of the many entrances underground right behind a warehouse.

He was so sure that he wouldn’t be found, that he wasn’t seen, so pray tell, why was he standing face to face with the exact two people he was meant to avoid. The atmosphere wasn’t nice, it was cold, and the smell was even worse, Seiji was trying heavily not to let it show on his face since the two people that were after him seemed to be completely unaffected by the environment they were in. What he couldn’t hide instead, was distress. He did not plan on getting caught any time soon, and yet it looks like he’s 8 seconds away from being behind bars.

“How- How did you guys find me?!”

///////////////////////////

This was not what Dazai meant when he said that he would show you how useful your ability can be (you refused more against it being useful than anything else he said about it, so that’s what he settled for), but it kind of worked so he wasn’t complaining.

“How- How did you guys find me?!”

Kuwahara Seiji, a 25-year-old thief that uses his ability to make himself invisible for all of his plans, making it hard for the police to identify him.

“It was kind of easy, actually!~”

“You’re talking as if you had any part in finding him.”

Dazai really didn’t. Once the criminal ran away after throwing a smoke bomb on the ground, (The brunet has to give it to him, It was annoying as hell and many people would give up on going after him once the smoke settled down) the two of you had no idea which direction he went off to, as there was a few possible exits from the warehouse you first caught him in.

His solution? Asking you to question a ghost nearby if they saw the man. You were really skeptical about that, he could tell. What he also noticed was how confused you were about his question. You didn’t understand why he would want that, at least at first. It was soon after that you realized he meant.

You can see invisible things, ghosts can see other invisible individuals as well, rendering Kuwahara’s ability useless when it comes to you chasing him down.

He realized that little advantage of yours some time back while lazing around on his favorite agency couch.

Your ghost acquaintances can be quite the helpers when it comes to investigating stuff. He heard from Kenji, that not too long ago, you had solved a case that was meant to take around a week, in a day, simply because it just so happened that a ghost was on the crime scene when it happened. You had an easy time getting clues and proving the words of the ghost to the police with their help.

He knows that a few times like those won’t stop you from being so negative about your ability, he’s aware of the impact your bullies had on you mentally even if you try to not show it, but all of those instances give you a step forward to seeing what Dazai and the others do.

“Oh c’mon ‘donna! I was the one who gave you the idea of asking someone!”

“We would be able to track him down anyway. Asking someone just made it faster.”

Catching him in the end was not hard at all. Kuwahara tried to sneak away using his ability once again, but you could still see him without him realizing it. You could see where he was walking off to, making it possible for Dazai to nullify the guy's ability and catch him before leading him to the police vehicle near the warehouse you guys were under.

“See? I told you your ability is really useful and fun!”

“Where do you see the fun in my predicament?” He could tell you were just done with him for the day, besides being confused.

“I mean, you’re almost never alone, right? You always have someone to talk to!~” He knows it’s annoying to see ghosts all the time without the option to just… not be able to do that.

A sigh came from you before answering, “Exactly, complete silence for me is a rare blessing.” in an exhausted tone.

“I would love to never be in complete silence.” He wished that you could have some sort of an on-and-off switch.

“Samu… That’s because your voices would be quiet-” “I do NOT have voices, bella!”

“Sure, continue being in Egypt.”

“What-”

ཐིཋྀ Thinks it's very cool actually

ཐིཋྀ Imma put you down as a florist in this one, or just some small/calm kind of job

ཐིཋྀ When he first met you, he didn’t think about whether you have an ability or not since it wasn’t his business in the slightest

ཐིཋྀ Let’s say that you’re a florist and the ginger came in to buy flowers for Kouyou for example. It just so happened that one of the ghosts hanging around in your workplace was feeling silly, and had been pranking the customers the whole day, Chuuya being no exception

ཐིཋྀ When you were at the back getting the bouquet he ordered the day before, his hat was randomly taken off of his head and was floating in the air

ཐིཋྀ Bro was so confused because he knew his ability was off at the moment

ཐིཋྀ Every time he got the hat back onto his head it just floated back up😭

ཐིཋྀ The menace of a ghost stopped only once you got back out of the backroom and scolded them

ཐིཋྀ Chuuya was confused because ‘Who the fuck were you talking to???’

ཐིཋྀ He asked that exact question and even though you were visibly hesitant and nervous, you still explained your ability since he already saw it anyway

ཐིཋྀ You did not get the reaction you expected, which was being made fun of as that was what you were used to, but he instead complimented it <3

ཐིཋྀ Make sure you don’t let a name slip when it comes to your past bullies because you will see them on the news, missing :)

ཐིཋྀ On one of your first dates/early stages of dating, he gave you Marigolds which you lightly laughed at, causing him confusion before you explained their meaning to him

ཐིཋྀ Yeah, he settled for mostly giving you Cyclamens, Blackthorns, and Bluebells alongside your favorite flowers after that, just for fun

ཐིཋྀ Going with the florist thing or just generally, he would help you around with his ability if there’s something heavier to move around

ཐིཋྀ He would voice out how often he actually wants to see you, albeit embarrassed, but he will show it in lil gestures a lot more <3

ཐིཋྀ I can just imagine him putting his hat on your head and sliding it down over your eyes before giving you a peck on the lips as a goodbye if he was at your workplace and he had to suddenly go

ཐིཋྀ He would try to slowly get you to not be so insecure about your ability

ཐིཋྀ I feel like one of The Flags would be his guardian ghost which could actually make this man cry at the thought :(

ཐིཋྀ Alright but if you met a past bully of yours, or someone newer, that would try to shit on you for your ability, just tell him, and he will beat them up happily <3

ཐིཋྀ Or just go and have a nice talk with them about their behavior if you don’t want him to beat them up, I can promise that they will never again be rude to you if they value their lives (Or you will see them on the news or hear about them being in the hospital if they don’t ^-^)

///////////////////////////

“Are you sure that you don’t have work right now?”

“Yes, so shut your pretty mouth up and show what else you need to be moved.”

Renovation. A simple small renovation of your small shop was all that you planned. Moving some of the furniture, and changing the place of a few products for easier finding. You had thought that it would take a few days to take care of it since you planned on doing a few things every day so as to not close up the shop for a whole day unnecessarily (and you didn’t feel like doing everything in one day).

The problem was, he was supposedly not meant to know about that. Chuuya found your graphic open on your laptop and saw the renovation plans before realizing that you didn’t speak a word about that. At first, he was confused. Why didn’t you tell him? He could certainly make it faster by helping you.

Yet soon after that, he realized why. You didn’t want him to know because you knew that he would help and, therefore not do his work, something you were always worried about when he stopped by your shop. Well, he was never one not to help you, especially when there’s such an occasion. he wants a thank you kiss besides being a gentleman, your honor

“Is it really that hard to focus on your job instead of helping me move the furniture?” You sighed, pointing to a bookcase and then pointing to a place where a table stood before. “You’re gonna get in trouble.”

“I’m not, besides- HEY!” Looking up, his hat could be seen slowly floating away. He ignored you stifling a laugh as he chased after the hat. Chuuya would ignore it and just continue on with moving your stuff around, but the last time he did that, the hat was later found in a pot, making him have to wash it as it had a lot of soil on it. (A lot of his subordinates wondered why he didn’t have his hat on the next day, he didn't explain it to anyone)

“Can you tell them to stop?!” He could only guess how funny the situation looked to you. To anyone else, it just looked like the ginger was chasing after a floating hat, but you could see the menace that was taking the object away, so it ended up being funnier to you, if you nearly laughing was anything to go by.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear.”

“You’re so mean!”

You hummed softly before answering, “I would prefer to be called entertained.”

“It has nothing to do with what I said, doll.” Was said by Chuuya just as he finally got hold of his hat. Even if the ghost was still holding onto it, at least the hat wasn’t continuously floating away toward the flower-bare pots with just soil in them again.

“Let them have some fun in a while, Chuu, they don’t do it too often.”

“Yeah, and it just so happens that they decide to have their little fun almost every time that I come here.”

“They love you.”

“I wish they didn’t.”

“It’s better than if they disliked you.”

“Why?”

“There’s a customer that they don’t like for being rude to me,” The ginger frowned at that information but you continued on, “And they are rude back to him every time he comes by my shop.”

“What do they do?”

“Y’know, pull on his clothes and hair, steal his things, and make them completely dirty on purpose, make him think he heard or saw something and that kind of stuff. Pretty sure they stole some of his money from the guy’s wallet.”

Chuuya was quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I think I prefer my hat being occasionally stolen…”

“Exactly!” You shouldn’t smile like that after what you said, but he’s not gonna comment on that one.

“...So the bookcase is the next to be moved, isn't it?

ཐིཋྀ He fr felt betrayed that he didn't know immediately

ཐིཋྀ Like he could know you for 5 minutes and be offended that your ability wasn’t one of the first things you said about yourself

ཐིཋྀ He finds it so fascinating that you can contact the dead so easily

ཐིཋྀ Don’t tell him who his guardian ghost is, no matter how much he asks

ཐིཋྀ Just hit him every time he asks, I promise it works to keep him from asking for the next 3 hours <3

ཐིཋྀ You can bet that he talks to Fyodor and Sigma about your ability (He asked you to tell Sigma that there’s multiple ghosts watching him all the time, he believed. Sigma did not sleep for the next 5 days at all because of that thought)

ཐིཋྀ You said it to him again because at some point there was a ghost actually following him, but Sigma didn’t want to believe it

ཐིཋྀ He’s gonna ask a million times for you to join him in pranks if you won’t agree the first time

ཐིཋྀ Just imagine telling someone a ghost-related thing that they can’t prove is not true

ཐིཋྀ You caused someone to be in hospital after they didn’t sleep for way too long

ཐིཋྀ You told Fyodor that there’s a ghost hanging around him all the time, but didn’t say whether it’s the guardian one or some random one, you just left the rat to ponder on which one you mean (Nikolai died when he found out)💀

///////////////////////////

“WAIT! What do you mean there’s some ghost stalking me?!” Nikolai could tell that Sigma didn't expect to be told something like that today, but again, who would?

“I didn’t say stalking, I said following you around as they seem to be interested in you.” Why did you smile so innocently at that? He doesn’t know but he does encourage you since it gets more reactions from the bi-colored-haired man.

“It doesn’t make it better?!”

“I think it does! Some ghosty is interested in our little Sigma!” He had to add something to the fire, what kind of a person would he be if he didn’t?

“Don’t call me that, Nikolai!”

“But whyyyy?” It was Thursday, the day that the white-haired clown dubbed ‘the best day to prank Sigma!’, even though he says it every week. He also deemed himself lucky as you finally agreed to help him prank the younger man again after rejecting him multiple times.

“Because I’m not little! And I won’t believe you guys again.”

“I don’t agree,” You spoke up, “Even the ghost agrees that you’re small!”

“See Sigma? We even have your beloved ghost on our side!”

“That’s no ‘my’ ghost, and I don’t believe that they said it. [Name] could be lying for all I know!”

“But do you have any way of proving that it’s a lie?” Nikolai couldn’t wait until he took the bait.

“...”

“Exactly!” You grinned before speaking up again a moment later, “They actually have a cute nickname for you that I’m thinking of using now…”

“Should I be scared?” Nikolai regrets not getting you into the pranks earlier, after all, the younger one had no way to prove you wrong. Sigma looks genuinely frightened that it may be real this time.

“No… It’s really a cute nickname that the ghost calls you by because they didn’t know your name when they first started following you around.”

“Stalking.”

“No.”

“I wanna know it! Tell us, dove!” Was it a nickname he could use himself? Or were you lying about it being a cute one and instead it’s weird? He doesn’t know which option he would like more. If he was being honest, Nikolai was feeling like you were telling the truth and not lying again like the last time.

“Cotton.”

“Cotton? Where did that come from?”

“That’s adorable! Let’s call him that!”

“I think that’s a perfect idea, Niko!”

“No!”

Nikolai can already tell that he’s gonna have a lot of fun with that nickname in his vocabulary now.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ Taglist ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

@sukiischaotic

Marigolds - Often called “flowers of the dead”, are symbols of positive emotions, like joy and excitement. They also represent energy, good luck, warmth, creativity, prosperity, passion purity, divinity, and the connection between life and death. These flowers' fragrance is said to attract souls to the altar.

Cyclamen - symbolizes the eternal cycle of life, which makes it the perfect flower that means 'forever'. In Japan, cyclamen holds a special place as the holy flower of love, causing it to be a popular choice for Valentine's Day

Blackthorn - Fate, protection, hope against adversity, good fortune, strength, overcoming adversity, purification, and protection

Bluebell - Loyalty, constancy, humility, gratitude and everlasting love

Keep in mind that flower meanings may somewhat be different depending on what site you look at, so excuse me if anything in the meanings is wrong! (hopefully not)

#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya x reader #nikolai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs #chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #nikolai gogol #bsd

228 notes · View notes

skateordiebitch · 20 days ago

Note

okayy i have a request that may be a little messy but hear me out: you and dom spend a night together but dont exchange any info at all, you just know each others names (maybe not even that) because you both just wanted a one night thing

but afterwards he cant stop thinking about you and tries to find you but has no idea how, until you start meeting each other in random places idk, maybe hes not even famous in this one just a normal guy idk about the rest lol

btw i love the way you write dom

FOR THE FIRST TIME || D.F x reader

'and i'm not trying to forget her just understand how i'll be feeling on that day it's just like seeing her for the first time again'

word count: 4.1k

summary: dominic can't stop thinking about you after a one night stand. you guys don't know a thing about each other... but, the universe works in mysterious ways.

a/n: I'M BACK Y'ALL. I PROMISE. i just worked for three weeks straight and now that black friday's over... i'm back in business, baby! this one is inspired by the prompt (obviously) and 'for the first time' by mac demarco. so cuteeee aaaa this is lowkey how me and my ex girlfriend got together ssshhhhhh anyways

The neon lights outside the bar glowed faintly in the humid night air, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the sidewalk. You didn’t know why you’d come out tonight, only that you needed something to shake up the monotony of your week.

Inside, the music pulsed loudly, a mix of bass-heavy tracks and the low hum of laughter and conversation.

You spotted him almost instantly—leaning casually against the bar, nursing a drink with a disarmingly relaxed demeanor.

His tousled hair framed his face in a way that made it seem like he hadn’t tried at all, but somehow, it worked. His eyes scanned the room lazily until they locked with yours, catching you mid-sip of your drink.

Dominic didn’t know what drew him to you.

Maybe it was the way you didn’t seem interested in the crowd around you, or the way you caught his gaze and didn’t immediately look away. Whatever it was, he found himself abandoning his spot at the bar and walking toward you without really thinking.

“Hey,” he said, his voice smooth but with just a hint of hesitation, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, setting your glass down and arching an eyebrow at him.

He smiled, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “You look like you don’t want to be here any more than I do.”

You let out a soft laugh. “That obvious?”

“Only to someone who feels the same.” He tilted his head toward the bar. “Can I get you another drink?”

The hours that followed felt like a blur of conversation and laughter. You didn’t know his name, and he didn’t ask for yours. It wasn’t like the usual small talk at bars—this was different.

Easy.

You talked about the music, joked about the questionable dance moves of a guy near the DJ booth, and exchanged just enough personal details to feel connected without giving too much away.

By the time you left together, the night was cool and quiet, a sharp contrast to the energy of the bar.

Neither of you said much as you walked, the tension between you crackling like static.

His apartment was small but clean, the kind of place that told you he didn’t spend much time there. You kicked off your shoes at the door, and he watched you with an amused smile as you glanced around.

“No judgment,” he said, shrugging. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

You grinned. “It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting to end up here either.”

And then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, but it didn’t stay that way for long. The rest of the night passed in a haze of heat and tangled sheets, two strangers lost in a moment they both knew wouldn’t last.

By the time Dominic woke up, sunlight was streaming through the blinds, cutting through the room in soft streaks. The spot beside him was empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

He sat up, blinking groggily, and looked around. No note, no number. Just the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Well, okay then,” he muttered to himself, trying to brush off the pang of disappointment.

But as the day went on, he found himself replaying the night over and over.

He didn’t even know your name, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you—the way you’d laughed at his jokes, the way your eyes sparkled under the dim light, the way you’d looked at him like you really saw him.

He told himself it was nothing, that it didn’t matter.

But it didn’t help.

A Week Later

Dominic tried to move on. He went out with friends, threw himself into work, and even started picking up old hobbies he’d long abandoned.

He told himself he was fine, that one night didn’t matter.

But no matter how much he tried to distract himself, the thought of you crept in at the most unexpected moments.

He would be in line at the grocery store and swear he caught a whiff of your perfume. Or he’d see someone in the crowd with your hair, your posture, your laugh, and his heart would lurch—only to feel that same sting of disappointment when it wasn’t you.

Even his friends noticed.

“You’ve been weird lately,” one of them pointed out during a game night at his apartment. They were all sitting on the floor, empty pizza boxes scattered around, the soft murmur of a playlist filling the silence between rounds of conversation.

“I’m not being weird,” Dominic replied, but his tone was sharp, defensive, betraying his unease.

“You are,” another friend chimed in, eyeing him curiously. “You’ve been spacing out for weeks. You keep staring off like you’re in a damn music video or something.”

Dominic scoffed, tossing a pillow at them. “I’m not doing that.”

“Yes, you are,” the first friend pressed. “What’s going on? Is it work? Family? Girl problems?”

At that, Dominic froze for half a second before shrugging it off. “It’s nothing,” he said, trying to sound casual as he took a sip of his drink.

But it wasn’t nothing.

It was you.

Dominic’s mind kept circling back to the way you’d looked at him that night—like he was someone worth knowing, worth trusting, even if just for a fleeting moment.

He remembered the sound of your laugh, the softness in your voice when you spoke, and the way your lips had felt against his.

He hated how ridiculous it all sounded. You were a stranger. He didn’t even know your name. And yet, the memory of you lingered like an unfinished song stuck in his head.

“You look like you’re plotting something,” one of his friends teased as Dominic stared at the ceiling later that night, the party winding down around him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just—” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

“It’s just what?”

Dominic hesitated, his friends now watching him with interest. “You ever meet someone who feels… important, even though you barely know them?”

The room went quiet for a beat.

“Like a soulmate thing?” one of them asked, smirking.

Dominic rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t believe in that crap.”

“But you’re thinking about her,” another friend said knowingly.

He didn’t respond.

What was there to say? That he’d spent weeks replaying a single night with someone he’d never see again? That he’d started scouring random bars on his nights off, hoping to spot you, even though he knew how unlikely it was?

It sounded insane.

Because it was insane.

Still, late at night, when the world was quiet and his mind wandered, Dominic couldn’t help but feel like your paths weren’t done crossing yet.

Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was something more.

All he knew was that he couldn’t forget you. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

—

You on the other hand— You told yourself it was fine after that night. Normal, even. People had one-night stands all the time, didn’t they? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

You didn’t even know his name, for God’s sake.

It was ridiculous.

But as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself replaying the night in your head far more often than you wanted to admit.

Little details kept creeping in when you least expected them: the way he’d laughed softly at something you’d said, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at you, the fleeting brush of his hand against your cheek before he kissed you like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.

It wasn’t just the physical part of it that stuck with you, though that was unforgettable in its own right—it was everything else.

The way he’d listened when you talked, like he actually cared, like every word mattered. The way he’d held you after, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your skin as if he didn’t want to let go.

You hated how your mind kept circling back to him, hated how you couldn’t even step into your favorite coffee shop without secretly hoping to see him standing at the counter.

It was maddening.

“Earth to you,” your friend said, snapping their fingers in front of your face as you sat across from them at a cafe. “You’ve been staring at the same page of that menu for ten minutes.”

You blinked, shaking yourself out of the fog. “Sorry. I’m just… distracted.”

“Clearly.” They raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What’s his name?”

“There’s no ‘his,’” you lied quickly, but your face betrayed you, and they weren’t buying it.

“Come on,” they teased. “You’ve got that look. Spill.”

You sighed, knowing there was no way out. “It was just a one-night thing. We didn’t even exchange names. It’s not a big deal.”

Their eyes widened. “Okay, mysterious stranger. And now you’re... what? yearning over him?”

“I’m not yearning,” you insisted, even though it felt like a lie. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s so stupid.”

“Not stupid,” they said, their teasing tone softening. “Just human. Maybe it was a really good night.”

“It was,” you admitted, almost shyly. “But it’s not like I’m going to see him again. It’s pointless.”

They shrugged, sipping their coffee. “You never know. The world works in weird ways.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the flicker of hope that their words sparked in you.

Later that night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, your mind betrayed you again.

You remembered the way he’d smiled at you, crooked and a little shy, like he couldn’t believe his luck.

The way his voice had sounded—low and soft, with just a hint of a laugh when he’d made some dumb joke that still managed to make you smile. The way his presence had made you feel, like for a few hours, the rest of the world didn’t exist.

You groaned, throwing an arm over your face.

“Get over it,” you muttered to yourself, but it was no use.

He was there in your mind, as vivid as the night you’d spent together, and you knew he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

—

Dominic wasn’t even supposed to be at the coffee shop that day.

He’d spilled coffee on his shirt at work and decided to stop for a fresh cup during his lunch break, grumbling the whole way about his clumsiness.

The warm scent of roasted coffee greeted him as he stepped inside. He barely glanced at the menu—he already knew his order.

But as he waited in line, something else caught his attention.

A scent.

It wasn’t the usual mix of espresso and baked goods that filled the shop. This was different—soft, warm, and familiar. A subtle floral and citrus blend that instantly sent his mind spiraling back to that night weeks ago.

His chest tightened as he tried to brush off the thought. There was no way. It was just a coincidence.

People wore similar perfumes all the time, right?

But then, someone brushed past him, murmuring a distracted “Sorry,” and the air shifted.

The scent grew stronger. He heard a laugh that was all too familiar.

Dominic froze. His head turned, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

You were at the counter, your back to him, rummaging through your bag as you spoke to the barista.

For a moment, all he could do was stare, his heart thudding in his chest.

Was it you? Could it actually be you?

His gaze lingered, tracing the curve of your profile as you turned slightly to hand the barista some cash. Recognition hit him like a jolt of electricity. It wasn’t just the perfume—it was the way you carried yourself, the tilt of your head, the cadence of your voice.

It was you.

He stepped forward instinctively, his heart pounding, but stopped short as doubt crept in.

What would he even say? He didn’t know your name, didn’t know anything about you beyond that one night.

For all he knew, you wouldn’t even remember him.

But he couldn’t walk away, not now.

Dominic stayed rooted in place, watching as you waited for your drink. The moment your name wasn’t called—only the number on your receipt—he realized the universe was playing a cruel joke.

Of course, the one thing he needed to know was the one thing you hadn’t shared.

You turned, drink in hand, and Dominic’s breath caught as your eyes swept the room, landing on him briefly before moving on.

For a split second, your expression shifted—just the faintest flicker of recognition. But you looked away just as quickly, heading toward a corner table with your phone in hand.

Dominic hesitated, his mind racing.

Should he say something? Could he?

The scent lingered in the air as you passed, tugging at his resolve. Without thinking, he followed, stopping a few feet away from your table.

“Hey,” he said, his voice tentative, his heart hammering in his chest.

You glanced up, startled, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow.

“It’s... you,” Dominic said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your brows knit together in confusion at first, but then your eyes widened slightly, your lips parting as the realization hit.

“It’s you,” you echoed, the words soft, almost disbelieving.

Dominic felt a rush of relief and something else—something warm and unsteady that he couldn’t quite name.

For weeks, he’d thought about you, about this moment, and now that it was here, he had no idea what to say.

The two of you found yourselves outside the coffee shop, sitting side by side on a worn wooden bench.

The world around you bustled with the usual midday energy—cars passing, the chatter of patrons walking in and out of the shop—but it felt oddly quiet between you and Dominic.

“This is insane,” you said, breaking the silence. You were still trying to wrap your head around the impossibility of the moment. “I mean, what are the odds of running into you again?”

Dominic let out a soft laugh, his fingers fidgeting with the seam of his jeans. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing since I saw you. Honestly, I thought I’d never see you again.”

There was something raw in his voice, a quiet vulnerability that made your stomach flip.

You turned to look at him, studying his face—the slightly messy hair, the faint scruff on his jaw, the way his eyes seemed to glimmer with something unreadable.

“Why?” you asked, your voice softer now. “Were you looking for me?”

His cheeks reddened instantly, and he rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “Maybe a little. Okay, a lot,” he admitted. “I… I don’t know. That night, it just stuck with me. You stuck with me. I don't know why.”

The confession made your chest feel both heavy and light at the same time, a strange and wonderful ache.

You weren’t sure what to say at first, so you looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

“It stuck with me too,” you admitted finally, the words barely above a whisper.

When you glanced back up, Dominic was watching you, his gaze steady and unguarded, like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face.

Relief flickered across his expression, mingling with something deeper, something you weren’t ready to name just yet.

You hesitated, a small, teasing smile tugging at your lips. “We don’t even know each other’s names,” you pointed out.

Dominic chuckled, the tension breaking slightly. “Then let’s start there,” he said, holding out his hand like this was some formal introduction. “I’m Dominic.”

You stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before slipping yours into it, feeling the warmth of his palm. “Nice to meet you, Dominic. I’m Y/N.”

The Next Few Weeks

After that chance encounter, it seemed like fate couldn’t keep the two of you apart. Everywhere you went, Dominic seemed to appear, like some cosmic joke you couldn’t escape.

The first time was at the grocery store. You’d been standing in the produce section, debating between two types of apples, when you caught sight of him a few aisles over, staring at a box of cereal like it held the secrets of the universe.

“Dominic?” you called, half-laughing.

He looked up, startled, before breaking into a grin. “We really have to stop meeting like this,” he joked as he strolled over.

"Lucky Charms?" You giggled, watching him toss the cereal box into his cart. "You're a child."

"Hey, what can I say? I've been feeling quite lucky, recently."

The second time was at your favorite bookstore. You’d been curled up in a corner, flipping through a novel, when a shadow loomed over you.

“Do you always hide back here?” You glanced up to find Dominic standing there, holding a coffee cup and smirking like he owned the place.

“Do you always stalk people in bookstores?” you shot back, unable to hide your smile.

By the third time—a random park you liked to walk through on weekends—you both gave up pretending it was just coincidence.

“I swear you’re following me,” you teased, bumping his shoulder as you walked side by side.

“Or maybe you’re following me,” he countered, his grin teasing as he offered you a bite of his ice cream cone.

What started as coincidence quickly turned into something deliberate. It wasn’t long before you both gave up pretending it was luck or fate.

Numbers were exchanged during one of those run-ins—a bookstore meet-cute where Dominic scribbled his digits on the back of your receipt, sliding it across the table with a lopsided grin.

“I figure it’s easier than hoping we bump into each other again,” he said, his voice warm with teasing, though his gaze held a flicker of uncertainty.

You’d smiled, tucking the receipt carefully into your bag, heart fluttering.

After that, the randomness became routine.

Dominic started showing up at your favorite coffee shop, timing his visits to when he knew you’d be there.

It wasn’t just that he came by—it was how effortlessly he fit into your day. He’d arrive unannounced but never empty-handed, always with your go-to drink in one hand and some thoughtful little snack in the other.

“I figured you might need this,” he’d say, sliding the cup across the table before settling into the seat across from you.

His presence never felt imposing; it felt like something you’d been missing without realizing it.

One evening, after yet another coincidental meetup at the park, you invited him over to watch a movie. It was a casual offer, born out of the ease you felt around him, but the night turned into something more.

You’d picked a lighthearted comedy, but neither of you really watched it.

The conversation flowed too naturally, each question peeling back another layer of who he was, who you were.

You’d started out on opposite ends of the couch, but by the time the credits rolled, you were leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he absently played with the edge of your sleeve.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in years,” you said, your voice hushed in the dim glow of the TV.

Dominic chuckled softly. “Well, you have a good laugh,” he replied, his words so sincere they made your cheeks warm.

He stayed long after the movie ended, the two of you talking well into the night.

There was a rare kind of comfort in it—like you’d known him far longer than a few weeks. It wasn’t just what he said; it was the way he listened.

The way he leaned in slightly when you spoke, how his gaze never wavered, how he made you feel like the most important person in the room.

But beneath the laughter, the shared stories, and the easy silences, there was an unspoken tension simmering between you—a question neither of you dared to voice.

The memories of your first night together lingered, casting a shadow that felt equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

You both knew how this had started, but neither of you seemed ready to admit how far it had come.

It was in the way his eyes lingered a second too long when you caught him staring. In the way your fingers brushed when he handed you your coffee, and neither of you pulled away. It was in the way your goodbyes felt heavier with each passing night, like neither of you really wanted to leave.

Every interaction felt charged, as if you were both waiting for something—some sign, some moment to push you over the edge.

But for now, you stayed in the in-between, caught in the delicate balance of something new and unspoken, something that already felt like it was changing everything.

—

It wasn’t until one night that everything finally came to a head. Dominic appeared at your door, a bottle of wine in one hand and his phone clutched in the other, his thumb nervously tapping against the screen.

His usual confidence was replaced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

“Dom,” you greeted, stepping aside to let him in. “What’s up? You look…” You paused, watching as he hesitated just inside the doorway, clearly working up the courage to say something. “Nervous.”

He let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh… you could say that.” His eyes darted around the room as though he were looking for an escape route before he set the wine on your counter. “I need to tell you something.”

You leaned against the arm of the couch, folding your arms across your chest. “Okay… now you’re starting to freak me out. What’s going on?”

Instead of answering, he began pacing your living room, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Not just tonight—like, for days. Maybe weeks. Ever since we ran into each other at the coffee shop, I—”

“Dominic,” you interrupted, stepping closer, your voice gentle but firm. “Take a breath and just say it.”

He stopped pacing abruptly and turned to face you. His hands fidgeted at his sides before he stuffed them into his pockets, as though trying to anchor himself.

“I wasn’t supposed to care about you,” he admitted finally, his voice low and unsteady. “That night, it was supposed to be nothing. Just a one-time thing. But now…” His gaze met yours, raw and earnest. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t been able to since the moment I left.”

The room felt suddenly too small, the air thick with unspoken tension. Your breath hitched, and all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“I didn’t even know your name,” he continued, a nervous laugh escaping him as he gestured aimlessly. “And still, you were in my head. And then, out of nowhere, you just… showed up again. Like some kind of sign. And I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

“Dom…” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but he held up a hand to stop you, his words spilling out in a rush.

“If this is too much, just tell me,” he said quickly, his eyes searching yours with a kind of desperation that made your chest ache. “But I had to say it. I can’t keep pretending like this is nothing when it’s not. Not to me.”

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the weight of his confession pressing down on you. Your mind raced, trying to process everything, but one thing was crystal clear: you felt the same.

“I’ve been falling for you too,” you said softly, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess them. And as soon as you said it, the tension in the room broke.

Relief washed over Dominic’s face like sunlight after a storm.

A small, almost disbelieving laugh escaped him, and before you could say anything else, he crossed the distance between you in a few long strides. His arms wrapped around you in a tight, almost desperate embrace, as though he was afraid you might slip away.

You melted against him, burying your face in his chest as the familiar warmth of his scent wrapped around you.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, content to just hold each other in the quiet.

“So,” he murmured after a while, his voice lighter now, laced with a teasing edge. “Dinner tomorrow? You know, a proper one this time. A date?”

You laughed against his chest, the sound bubbling up naturally as you pulled back just enough to look at him. “Dinner sounds perfect,” you said, your smile matching the brightness in his eyes. “It’s a date.”

For the first time in weeks—maybe months—you both felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

#dominic fike #dominic fike fan fiction #euphoria #dom fike #elliot euphoria #my writing #dominic fike imagines #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike x you #euphoria hbo #writing #writers on tumblr #fan fiction #fanfiction #requests #relationship #strangers to lovers

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amara-eilish · 8 months ago

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so sick of you (chapter 4)

series summary: you and natasha have ended your relationship due to her cheating on you. it's been 5 years now. what happens when you bump into her at a bar on your birthday?

warnings: some swearing, light make-out sessions but otherwise none

a/n: took me 4 months to write this, progress?

day one in italy. it was like you could smell the pizza in the air as you walked out of the plane.

“are you ready to get this party started” wanda exclaims.

crazy how this girl was dead asleep not even 10 minutes ago and now she has the most energy.

i didn’t answer her however, looking for the girl who was on the plane with me.

“bitch i know you did not just leave me on heard!”

“hm?” i say looking at her

she rolls her eyes and repeats “i saidddd, are you ready to get this party started”

i grin at her, trying to forget the thoughts of the girl on the plane. i still never got her name.

we start walking out of the airport with our bags in hand. we (or well wanda) had ordered a scheduled taxi before the flight so we didn’t need to wait to call one. we head into the car to our hotel. looking at the view from the car i could just cry from seeing the view. my thoughts about natasha had faded from my mind. my thoughts were all on the plane girl and italy. i mean what better thoughts could i have?

once we reached the hotel we spent some time just hanging out there before deciding to start getting ready for some dinner wanda planned.

“girl i dont know about you but i’m just hoping to get fucked, it’s been too long since i’ve done it. your girl has needs.”

i laugh at wanda, she’s always got some out of pocket thing to say.

“girl same”

“don’t lie to me, i’m your best friend i know someone caught your eye on that plane, what’s her name”

i give her a look

“so you were awake! omg i hate you!”

“i love to sleep but mate i needed some entertainment and you being a fumbling mess was the best.”

“i hate you”

“remember the person who planned this trip” wanda reminds.

i roll my eyes and continue to get ready. i end up wearing a mini skirt and a cropped baby tee that says “i love italy” because of course you need one.

after eating dinner we head to a bar. we decided to just get a couple drinks the two of us and talk.

“yeah, and you know what that asshole steve did—”

she gets cut off by my phone ringing

“sorry!” i say

checking my phone i see “unknown number” flashed on the screen. i pick up anyways

“hello?”

“hey! plane girl!”

“hey! how come you’re calling me?”

“turn around” she says through the phone

i turn and see the brunette. her hair down in waves. wearing a button up half open with a loosely done tie and a black mini skirt. her glasses substituted with most likely contacts.

“how come you’re here? did you miss me that much?” i say

“no silly, you told me on the plane you were coming here after eating”

wanda looks at me with a stinky eye

i look back apologetically (even though i wasn’t sorry one bit)

“but how come you came?” i say

“i mean why not. when you do come you’re gonna need a name to scream right? and i don’t think i want to hear you screaming plane girl as entertaining as it sounds”

i laugh.

“well this is wanda, and she’s awake now, we were just talking but i don’t think she’ll mind if we leave for a few mins” i say also asking wanda

wanda looks away for a second not meeting my gaze.

“yeah go ahead, have the sex before me i guess” she says grumpily, with a hint of sadness in her eyes

why was she sad?

“bye!” i shout

i see from the corner of my eye wanda walking up to the bar to talk to some other girl. go her i guess.

“so! plane girl, what is your actual name”

“madison, but people call me maddie most of the time”

“pretty name, it suits you,”

“thank you baby. do you wanna get a couple drinks”

“sure, margaritas for me please!”

“wow cute”

“i’ll take the same as her please” she says to the bartender as i order my drink.

from the corner of my eye i see wanda leaving but i don’t go not wanting to leave maddie in this moment.

we continue to talk before deciding that it was getting late. it was around 2am when maddie and i get into the car. there’s music playing the background.

i feel maddies arm brush my thigh and it sends shivers up my spine. my body starts to warm up. we are still talking until she realizes my shiver. she looks at me eyeing my lips and my eyes. before anything else could happen she kisses me. our lips intertwine and we kiss like theres no tomorrow. she leans towards my neck and leaves a couple kisses there. by the end of it we are both breathing heavily. we reach my hotel and i step out of the car, thanking the driver. i kiss maddie one more time before getting out of the car.

“thanks for tonight” i say

“goodnight baby” she says before having the taxi driver drive.

i walk up into the hotel and get in the elevator taking out my key. it was silent in the room. wanda already snuggled up into our bed. i go to take my makeup off and see lipstick marks all over my lips and neck. i take a photo before taking my make up off.

i change into my pjs and slip into our bed before sending a text to maddie

attachement one photo

nice art maybe you should frame it?

i send to her, along with the photo of the lipstick stains.

“haha, goodnight angel see u soon ;)” she texts back.

i switch my phone off putting it on charge slowly starting to fall asleep.

i heard a faint sigh from wanda but i didn’t think much of it before falling asleep.

a/n: chapter 4 donee (ops on maddie??)

taglist: @lakita-fisher @marvelogic @dark-hunter16 @marvelwomen-simp

(lmk if you want to be added to the taglist ( i am in the process of making a new one)

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uhhkpop · 15 days ago

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A Perfect Girl - Eric Sohn x (afab)NB!reader

—

Content/Warnings: College AU, Smut (18+ mdni), Fluff, Angst, they/them reader, discussion of pronouns, reader’s gender identity not specified- implied to be slightly female aligned but outside the gender binary, misgendering (accidental and deliberate), insecurity, reader has body hair, reader is taller than Eric, Eric’s ex is a bully, virgin!reader with no dating experience, big dick!Eric (iykyk 👀), tit sucking, unprotected piv sex (DONT DO THIS), oral (receiving), marking (giving and receiving), reader becomes a bit possessive but Eric thinks it’s hot, an “ily”, hurt-comfort, this is ridiculously long, lmk if I’ve missed something

DISCLAIMER: I write fan fiction for myself and myself only. If you feel excluded or underrepresented by the content, that is because it is specifically intended to represent me. If you like it, that’s great, and I’m hoping a few people might, but if you don’t, then you are free to read something else.

—

By itself, crushing on a boy sucks. It sucks even more when you dress kinda masculine, have a couple inches on him height-wise, and you worry that as a (presumably) heterosexual man, these qualities on a woman (or whatever it is you are, you’ve given up on figuring it out) will be a turn off for him.

You like to think that Eric isn’t full of toxic masculinity or anything of the sort, though you wouldn’t blame him if he was a bit insecure— most people are, in one way or another. But at the end of the day, cis-het men like femininity and that is not you. So, all you can do is look at him wistfully from across the classroom and fantasize about things that you’re sure will never happen. Sighing, you think about how the only girls you’ve seen him date have all been short and pretty with frilly outfits, flowing long hair, and foreheads never too high for him to kiss. You aren’t jealous of their height or how they dress, you wouldn’t want to look like them anyway, but you are jealous that they get to be considered desirable and you aren’t. Eric Sohn is too normal for you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

You’re so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you almost don’t hear the professor announce that partners for the group project will be posted tonight. You’re still sneaking glances at him even as class ends and people start filtering out when you see a girl jog in with a hopeful look on her face. She goes straight towards Eric and grabs his hand and although you can’t hear everything, the girl says something along the lines of, “Come onnnnn. We should spend time together again. I miss you, you know?”, in a coaxing tone. You watch Eric’s face harden as he speaks crossly,

“What did you think I meant when I said I didn’t want to see you anymore?” He fixes her with a glare. The girl just looks at him innocently.

“Well, I know you just wanted a few days to cool down, so I gave you a few days and now we can go back to our old routine!” She smiles at him, clearly ignoring the annoyed look on his face. You continue to pack up slowly because even though you know it’s not your business and you’re internally scolding yourself for being nosy, part of you feels compelled to find out where this is going. Because it’s Eric.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I’m not falling for this bullshit again,” Eric retorts. His voice is terse, almost angry. Your bag is all packed now and when you hear the girl start to speak again, an impulse takes over and you suddenly yell to him from across the room.

“Eric!” You call his name and wave at him. The face of the girl (who you now assume is a recent ex) twists into displeasure as you jog over. “Did you forget the reservation at that lunch place that we booked? I don’t want to be late.” Eric’s expression quickly goes from confusion to what seems to be relief.

“Lunch…” the ex scoffs, “with this ugly bitch? I see you’ve lowered your standards.” Well, ouch. That stung. She storms off before Eric can get another word in. Once she’s completely gone, you try to smile apologetically and offer,

“Sorry. You seemed a bit stuck there, so I wanted to help.” He laughs at this and shakes his head.

“No, you’re good! I’m actually glad she’s gone. I don’t think she’ll bother me again anytime soon.” He motions with his head for you to come along, so you follow him out of the classroom. “Exes, am I right?”, he quips jokingly. You shrug and stuff your hands in your pockets.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Wait, really?” Eric’s eyes widen a bit.

“Is it that weird that I haven’t dated yet?,” you ask curiously.

“No, no,” he backtracks, looking uncomfortable, suddenly aware of what he said, “that’s not exactly what I meant. I mean, it’s totally okay if you choose not to date, not everyone has to date if they don’t want to, I know that, yeah, I’ve just overheard you ranting to friends about being single before, so I figured…” Eric rambles and then trails off. You chuckle a bit in response as you walk across one of the wide courtyards on campus.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. But where are we going by the way?”, you ask.

“I don’t know, actually.” You look at him, puzzled about his response.

“But I’m just following you,” you say. He looks back, equally confused by your words and replies,

“I thought I was following you???” You stop in your tracks and burst out laughing and it isn’t long before Eric joins in. After a few minutes, you take a couple of deep breaths to settle down, a giggle or two still occasionally coming up. You can’t remember the last time you laughed that hard. It felt good, really good. “So,” Eric says, “do you want to actually get lunch? I’ll buy since I owe you for rescuing me back there.” You can’t keep the grin off your face.

“I’d love to.”

~~~

On the way there and at the cafe, Eric chatted nonstop about the ex who had bothered him (Gina, you think her name was) earlier as well as about anything and everything else that came to mind. You found that you actually enjoyed listening to him speak even more than you’d expected. It wasn’t often that you found someone who could both outtalk you and simultaneously entertain you enough that you genuinely enjoyed listening to them even when you didn’t get much of a word in.

The whole thing was like a dream and you roll around on your bed, covering your face with your hands and laughing as you reminisce about it. You thought he was cute before and now you’re pretty sure you might be obsessed, too. You don’t think your luck could get any better than it already is today but when you check the list of partners assigned by the professor, you’re proven wrong. The name next to yours on the chart is none other than Eric’s.

You had exchanged numbers at lunch, so you text him the news and set up a time to meet each week to work on it. You can’t believe you’re going to be seeing him outside of class and even though you’re a bit apprehensive (out of fear you might fuck something up), you’re mostly just excited to spend time with him.

You begin sitting together every class and as he’d predicted, Gina didn’t make another attempt at an after-lecture visit. Not only is the project coming along nicely, you now feel like you can say that Eric has become a good friend. You’ve even forgotten how self-conscious you used to feel whenever you were next to him. Or at least, you’ve mostly forgotten. He made you laugh often enough that you didn’t have much time to think about it, but now and then you still feel lingering doubts at the back of your mind. Doubts that hurtle towards the surface today when Gina suddenly marches towards you while you’re studying by yourself in the library, sits across from you, and affixes you with a glare, saying,

“I can’t believe he’s been spending so much time with such a poor excuse for a girl.” Her voice drips with venom and stuns you speechless, and she goes on, “I mean, look at you, what kind of girl dresses like that? What kind of girl lets herself have that much body hair? It’s kinda gross, not gonna lie.” When you open your mouth to ask why you would even have to be a ‘girl’ or dress in a certain way, she interjects again. “You aren’t pretty at all, and you seem pretty boring, too. Even if I can’t have him anymore, you should leave him alone for someone who’s actually in his league.”

At this point, you feel compelled to clarify that Eric isn’t dating you or even interested, but you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that, so you just tell her the harshest thing you can think of in that moment: “I’m sorry that conforming to binary gender stereotypes is so important to you. Hopefully one day you’ll get a hobby that doesn’t involve judging other people for how they dress.” You look at her nonchalantly and she looks like she wants nothing more than to cuss you out right now. But she doesn’t. Gina just stands up abruptly and walks away. Unfortunately, however, the pride you feel for reacting so calmly, is edged out by a feeling of discomfort. If anyone’s opinion should be taken seriously, it certainly shouldn’t be hers, but you can’t shake the nagging sense that she isn’t the only one who thinks the way she does.

In general, you’re happy with yourself. You’re okay with not being pretty. In the end, how you look doesn’t matter, right? …right? Except it kinda does, because you want Eric to think you’re pretty, but that seems far fetched, so you remind yourself not to get any hopes up.

You stretch and begin to pack up. After that confrontation, the thought of being here much longer makes you feel ill, so you head out the door feeling unsettled and just plain bad. Why did some people suck that much? All you want to do is go home, nap, and try not to think about it. It doesn’t even occur to you that today you have one of your weekly meetings with Eric to work on the project together. Once you get home, you plop face first into the couch and after a bit of rolling around, quickly fall asleep.

~~~

You’re rudely awakened by both the sound of your phone ringing and someone knocking on your door. “What the fuck?” You mutter and stand up. As soon as you open the door and see Eric’s face, it dawns on you. You’d completely forgotten what day it was. This had never happened before and frankly, you’re embarrassed. Letting him in, you feel yourself wither away even more on the inside. Eric should be mad, you think, but his expression remains neutral, confused even. It’s hard to speak, just seeing him right now makes you almost want to cry, but you open your mouth to try to say something to him anyway. You don’t even get the chance. Once the front door closes, Eric gently puts his hands on your arms and asks,

“Shit, you okay?” He has a concerned look on his face. You figure you must look pretty pathetic right now if he’s this worried just from looking at you. It isn’t long before the dam breaks and tears stream down your face. Eric rubs your arms and guides you to sit down on your sofa. “Hard day?” You gulp down sobs and nod. “Do… you want to talk about it?” You shake your head even though you do, actually, want to talk about it. But you can’t let him know because you don’t want him to pity you or even worse, confront his ex which might make her target you even more.

“We should…" you swallow, "get to work." You lean to grab your backpack to remind Eric of why he came over in the first place. He stops you though, holding each of your hands in his, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumbs.

"No," Eric insists, "we can always finish it up later. You aren't feeling good right now, so we probably wouldn’t get a ton of stuff done anyway," You look down at your lap, not sure how to reply. Eventually, you force out a weak ‘okay’. “Is there anything I can do to help?”, Eric asks and you shrug, still looking down, not wanting to talk. He lets go of your hands and returns them to his own lap. “Would… you like a hug?” You nod and you feel him wrap his arms around you, warm and strong, adjusting yourself in his arms so you can rest your forehead on his shoulder. Eric holds you like that for several minutes even though you aren’t crying anymore. You savor this moment because you’re pretty sure you’re a little bit in love with him and you don’t know if you’ll get chance to be this close to him ever again. It feels wrong, as if you’re taking advantage of his kindness to satisfy how utterly touch starved you feel, but right now, you don’t have the energy to think too deeply into it.

Eric releases you from his hold and pinches your arm, giving you a smile that is mischievous yet still sympathetic, an expression you didn’t even know existed before meeting him. “So,” Eric chuckles, “if you don’t wanna tell me what happened, could you at least tell me who made you feel this way, so I can go kick them in the ass?” You laugh dryly, but it lacks much humor.

“I don’t care about what happens to the other person, but one of the people is me, and I’d rather not have my ass kicked, thank you very much.” You fix him with a weary smile and his expression drops, the only sound out of his mouth is a concerned whisper of your name.

“You don’t deserve that from anyone, least of all yourself,” Eric insists.

“I know,” you say, “and usually it’s not an issue, but I have insecurities just like everyone else and sometimes I meet people who are really good at reminding me of them. And it’s not even that I compare myself to other people,” you go on, “but it’s not like I can stop other people from doing that or even from saying it straight to my face. It’s fucking bullshit.” You lean back against the couch and look at the ceiling.

You hear him sigh. “I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry man, that really sucks.” The both of you sit in silence for a few seconds before Eric blurts out, “They must have said something pretty bad to upset you that much, usually you seem so unbothered by things.”

“I mean, kinda, but it’s just a front a lot of the time. I’ve learned to just roll with it to avoid attracting even more attention. I’ve always stuck out a bit, you know? Especially since I started college.” You sit up straight and look at him again, but Eric’s expression is somewhat unreadable.

“What changed?”, he tentatively asks. You shrug casually, trying to play it cool.

“Just the way I dress and refer to myself, I guess. New town, new me. I finally started wearing the clothes I wanted instead of making myself look like a girl to feel normal… and…” you hesitate at this part. You know he’ll be accepting, you’re almost completely sure of it, but you know that there’s always a risk with this kind of thing. A risk of people pushing you away out of judgment or prejudice. You know that Eric most likely won’t push you away, and that if he does, you’re better off not having him in your life anyway. But none of that makes it any less scary.

You inhale, hoping for the best, bracing for the worst, and confess, “I also started using they/them pronouns. I didn’t change my name or anything but I don’t refer to myself as a girl or a woman as often as I used to. I don’t mind people using ‘she’ or describing me with those words, but it just feels better when people refer to me more neutrally.” Your legs are wiggling nervously and you pick at your fingernails as you wait for a response.

“Cool,” Eric says calmly then gives you a genuine smile, “Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me. I’ll do my best to keep it in mind.” The weight on your shoulders has disappeared and you feel like you can fully breathe again. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Eric laughs and reaches over to massage one of your shoulders. “Relax a bit, you’re fine,” he reassures, his expression still amused.

“Thanks.” You smile at Eric, truly grateful.

~~~

Since then, Eric has made a diligent effort to use the right language for you. You sometimes have to remind him that he doesn’t need to focus so hard on it; you feel like he sees you for who you are, and that’s the most important part. Still, he does his best, and it’s endearing, to say the very least. Part of you wishes you hadn’t told him— you already had feelings for him before and now that he’s putting in all this effort just to make you feel comfortable and seen, you’re falling for him even harder.

But despite all this, he clearly only sees you as a friend. It’s obvious, the way he’ll ask for an opinion about some girl’s profile on whatever dating app he’s using, how he’ll sometimes give you a fist bump as a greeting. You’re starting to wonder if he just sees you as another guy friend, and you really don’t want that.

Otherwise, everything is great between you two. The project went well and your professor commented on your chemistry when presenting together, saying that it would be nice if all of the teams worked together so well. Eric has started inviting you to hang out with his other friends who you’ve discovered are also really fun to be around. Everything is falling into place except your desire to be even physically and emotionally closer to him than you already are. But you’re a coward and you can’t tell him that. You don’t want to risk one of your best friendships. So you stay quiet and let things be.

The staying quiet part itself is easy enough but suppressing your feelings around Eric is not. Your urges to stare at him or giggle or grin like an idiot whenever he does something remotely cute or funny are overwhelming, so you wear a facade of ‘calm, cool, and collected’ as best you can. You think you’re succeeding, but you can’t be too sure, especially when Eric’s friends sometimes subtly nudge you, giving knowing smiles as if to tell you that they’ve caught onto your little secret. Now that you think of it, they definitely know. It’s not hard to tell when Eric asks you to come with him to a party they’ve all been invited to and Hyunjae looks at you with a gleam in his eye and suggests nonchalantly that it could be ‘a fun excuse to dress up, maybe try and catch someone’s eye,’ finally shutting up when Juyeon elbows him in the ribs and shoots him a pointed look. You’re slightly embarrassed that they’ve figured it out this fast but at the same time, you’re grateful that they haven’t seemed to have said anything to Eric yet.

Usually you’re not someone to go to parties. But for the sake of Eric, you agree quickly and begin to wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into.

~~~

As soon as you step into the party, you feel out of place. It’s uncomfortably loud, smells of smoke and booze, and whoever is DJ-ing is doing a very shitty job. Then again, most people here are probably too drunk to care anyway. If Eric hadn’t asked you to be here, you would’ve left already. A stranger comes up to you to offer a drink and gives you a rude side eye when you decline it and you know you’ve already lost popularity points that you didn’t have in the first place.

Your eyes scan the room for Eric, but it’s too crowded to tell if he’s even here. For all you know, he could be off wooing one of the many high heeled girls in their little black dresses and immaculate makeup, having completely forgotten about you. You don’t even remember the name of this other friend of his who’s having their birthday tonight. Maybe Eric just brought you along because he knew that you wouldn’t put up with his ex’s bullshit unlike the other ‘girls’ he could have asked. But what’s the point if he’s not even here? You text him again but get no response, he probably doesn’t notice the phone buzzing in his pocket anyway. You decide you’ll try one more time in a few minutes, but for now, all you can do is stare into space and wish you were somewhere else.

After a few minutes, you reach for your phone again, feeling ready to give up if you still don’t get a response but you’re interrupted by strong hands suddenly grabbing your arm. You startle, ready to punch someone if you have to, but upon seeing it’s only Eric, you let yourself relax.

“Hey, (Y/N)… you came!”, Eric says excitedly. He doesn’t seem super drunk yet but he’s certainly at least a bit tipsy.

“I did,” you sigh begrudgingly, fiddling with a loose thread on your pants.

“You look soooo cool, by the way,” he nods approvingly and even though you can tell he’s a bit more inebriated than you initially thought, for the first time tonight, you feel attractive, sexy even. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to wear ripped jeans and a suit vest as a top if Eric seems to like it. You mentally kick yourself for being so emotionally invested in a man’s opinion.

“Is there anything fun to do here that doesn’t involve drinking?” You ask, hoping that the response will be something other than no. However, you are not so fortunate.

“Not really,” Eric says, “unless you wanna dance?” His eyes light up mischievously but you shake your head at the suggestion. You do not want your chunky boots to make you look even taller than you already are in comparison to him. “Besides,” he adds, “I like having you here.” You aren’t sure whether to swoon or feel disappointed because that could mean plenty of things.

“Is it so I can tell your annoying ex to fuck off?” You inquire. He widens his eyes at your suggestion, looking almost offended you would assume such a thing.

“No, no, no… not at all! Well… maybe a little bit, but only a little bit. I invited you because I wanted to hang out,” he insists.

“There are better occasions for hanging out,” you grumble, but he doesn’t seem to hear.

“Let’s go sit!” Eric announces pulling you by your wrist to a couch near the edge of the room. Soon, you find yourself squeezed next to him on some piece of furniture that’s probably only meant for one person to comfortably stretch out on but not for two to sit next to each other. Eric goes on a tipsy ramble about something you don’t really understand but you nod along anyway. Your hands are resting on your lap and you wonder when he’ll realize that he’s mindlessly playing with your fingers. Not that you mind; it’s pretty cute, actually. This is nice, you think. You wouldn’t mind staying like this for the rest of the night, but the universe has other plans.

“You’re with her again? Don’t you know better?” Eric’s ever-lovely ex appears in front of you, wearing a scowl on her face. You’re not surprised that she’s talking about you as if you aren’t even there. Eric fixes her with a confused look.

“Why would I ‘know better’? As far as I’m concerned, being with them is better than dealing with your jealous ass.” Hearing this, Gina scoffs,

“You’re just doing this because you pity her and because you’re trying to piss me off by being with someone… who looks like that.” People are starting to watch the scene and you’re becoming self conscious.

“I think they look hot, so your opinion is irrelevant,” Eric snaps back at her. “Unlike what you seem to think, the reason I broke up with you wasn’t because I stopped finding you attractive, it’s because you act like this.” Eric pauses and you think he’s done with his rant until he suddenly adds, “also, you were shit in bed.” A scattering of whispers and murmurs goes through the group watching the confrontation and Gina looks like she’s going to cry. You immediately stand up and pull Eric with you,

“Alright, we’re gonna go now,” you announce, dragging him to the door with a cheeky smirk still plastered to his face. As much as you thought she deserved it, you figure she’s probably had enough humiliation for the night, so you wait outside the house with Eric and call a cab. Your head is spinning with thoughts and you have to know the details. You’re hot? His ex was bad in bed? But you don’t know where to start, so instead you just say, “you were pretty savage back there,” both surprise and admiration lacing your voice.

“I’m as savage as it gets,” Eric says proudly, barking and growling like a dog as he ends his statement. He grins at you and for some strange reason, you’re absolutely enamored with this weirdo.

“By the way, did you mean it?”, you ask. “Y’know, the thing you said?”

“Which one, the one where I said you looked hot or the one where I said she was bad at sex? Because both are technically true, in my opinion.” Eric shrugs and gives you a crooked, tipsy smile. Your heart is drumming. You know that his answer is going to either be the best news you’ve heard in years, or an absolute letdown.

“Can you clarify? Like, do you think I’m hot, or am I just hot in general?”

“Can’t it be both?” Eric looks at you quizzically.

“‘Cause, like, I have no doubt that you said that to annoy her which is totally valid to me, but I need to know if you just said it to annoy her or if you actually, personally, are attracted to me.”

“Look,” Eric says, “annoying her was not my plan when I said that, it just happened to be a nice bonus.” He giggles, swaying a bit and you wonder how much of this he’ll remember tomorrow. Eric purses his lips, “The thing I said about her being bad in bed, that one was to annoy her. It also happens to be true, but it was mostly for petty revenge.”

“Was she really that bad?”, you ask. Probably too personal of a question, but he brought it up, so you’re itching to know the story.

“Hmm, in a way, yeah. It was always very impersonal and she mostly just cared about herself. When I said I wanted her to be more attentive and caring towards me, she looked at me as if I was crazy. Like, can’t a guy just want some emotional intimacy?” He scoffs at the memory and you feel your heart squeeze. You think to yourself that you’ll store that information for later and then mentally scold yourself for being delusional.

“That’s stupid,” you finally reply. “She’s the weird one, not you.”

“Yeah! I know!”, Eric complains. Then he grabs your hand and leans into you. “See, this is why I like you. You get me.”

“Yeah?”, you murmur quietly, wrapped up in the moment.

“Yeah,” he repeats softly, and he looks at you so dreamily that it takes everything in you to not kiss him right then and there.

The arrival of the cab interrupts your moment and neither of you speak as the driver takes you to each of your respective destinations. When you finally get into your bedroom, you flop onto the bed without even getting undressed and scream into your pillow. You aren’t excited, you aren’t upset, you’re just… stuck. Overwhelmed by your feelings for a man you’re sure could never want you the way you want him. And it’s impossible to get rid of him now that he’s in more parts of your life than you can count. You couldn’t, anyway, no matter how much you wanted to. You know that even if you tried to cut him out, all it would take is a text from him and you’d come running without hesitation. Eric Sohn has you wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know it.

~~~

After meeting Eric the next day ‘to check on his hangover’ (aka gather info on how much he actually remembers from the previous night), you’ve discovered that he’s forgotten more than you expected him to. He remembers all of the events for the most part. Eric knows that he drank, talked with some friends, found you, got in an argument with his ex, and then was dragged out by you for saying something nasty. What he couldn’t recall is any of what he specifically said. Which left it up to you to decide how much to actually tell him.

It’s only fair that he knows, so you tell Eric everything. Well… everything except for your conversation outside. You aren’t sure why, but the idea of Eric finding out that he implied last night that he genuinely found you attractive and that he told you why he wasn’t satisfied with his ex in bed fills you with a sense of dread. Part of you is probably afraid that his explanation for the former has changed and as for the latter, you don’t want to embarrass him. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you don’t want to admit that you’re saving that information for the off chance you ever do get to sleep with him.

You fantasize that not only will you give him your body, but your heart, too, and that it will make him fall so deeply for you that none of those things you worry about will even matter. You’ll love him better than any of his exes did, so much that he won’t see anyone else but you. But those are dreams, not reality.

Straight men usually want girls who will complement their own sense masculinity, not challenge it. Straight men usually want girls. And unless you’ve misinterpreted something, he is one of the ‘straight men’ but you’ll never be one of the ‘girls’. And of course there are exceptions, it’s not like this is a rule, but how are you supposed to feel hopeful when you’ve never seen it happen in real life or even in fiction?

~~~

When Eric invites you to another party, this time at his apartment on a Friday night, you’re confused. After the events of last Friday, you’re wondering what made him think this was even remotely a good idea. But he promises it’ll be a small informal event and you’re weak when it comes to Eric, so of course you agree.

You decide to go a little more casual this time, just wearing your most comfortable jeans and a simple button up tee. Hopefully it won’t be too casual compared to everyone else there. When you get to his place, however, you don’t even see anyone whose outfit could be a potential gauge for the vibe of this party. It’s just you and Eric in the apartment. The lights are low and there’s music playing, so surely there has to be someone else here already, right?

“Am I early, or something?”, you ask as Eric lets you into his apartment.

“Nah,” he says, walking around aimlessly.

“Then why am I the only one here?”

“Uh… you’re kinda, like, the only person I invited,” he admits with a playful grin. You look at him incredulously and lightly slug him in the shoulder.

“What the fuck, man? You had me anxious for nothing!” You laugh in relief. “I was psyching myself up to get ready to endure several hours of being social, and now you’re telling me it was all for nothing?” Eric frowns facetiously.

“What do you expect me to do about it?”, he asks. You just snicker in response. Eric has you sit down at his small dining table while he gets you a drink and you watch his broad back as he opens the fridge and asks you what you want. You know you’re distracted by him, but you can’t help it. It’s even worse tonight because he obviously put some effort into his appearance and you think it certainly paid off. When he turns back around, you give him an awkward smile, hoping he couldn’t tell you’d literally been staring at his physique only moments ago.

Eric raises his eyebrows at you but doesn’t say anything and hands you your drink.

“So aside from, uhhh, chatting,�� you say, gesturing around, “what’s the plan?”

“We’re gonna make up for what we didn’t do last time we were at a party,” he explains. “We’re going to dance.”

Dance? You’re confused. Eric had told you he didn’t remember much of what he said that night. You yourself had almost forgotten he asked you to dance because compared to everything else that had happened, it was barely even notable. Eric then suddenly speaks up.

“I was kinda disappointed when you said 'no' that time. You can totally, like, say no again, but I wanted to make another chance. Is that weird?”

Oh my god. Is he flirting with you right now? You really can’t tell. And the idea of dancing seems even worse this time since it’s just him. It’s not like you’ll have a crowd of people to blend in with that likely would include some even worse dancers than you. But Eric can see the apprehension in your face.

“C’monnnnnn! It’ll be fun.”

He taps something on his phone and the volume of the music increases and the song switches to something more upbeat. Before you can protest, he makes his way to you and grabs onto your wrists, pulling you out of your chair to lead you to a more open area. Eric doesn’t let go, moving your arms to the beat with him. You laugh and let him but you still don’t do any moving of your own. When you still don’t join him, Eric gazes up at you and pouts, giving you the biggest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. “Please…?”, he whines, effortlessly making your resolve crumble.

“You know what? Ok, fine, whatever, you win,” you concede with a defeated smile. God only knows the things you would do for this man.

“Hell yeah!” he celebrates with a fist pump.

And so, you dance. You don’t really know what you’re doing. In fact, you’re trying not to even really think about it, and just focus on moving around to the beat of the music. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and messing around, Eric shrieking when you decide to chase him with a small throw pillow you grabbed from his couch.

“Die!”, you yell dramatically as you chuck the pillow at Eric who goes down with a long ‘nooooo!’ as he tries to dodge and fails. When he realizes that you’re out of ammo, an evil grin spreads on his face as he decides to turn the tables and begins chasing you instead. You giggle as Eric runs after you, almost tripping over your own feet. Eventually, you’re cornered and you can see the wheels turning in his head as he decides what sort of silly revenge he should take. But he doesn’t even get the chance to make a decision when a new song begins, slow and sensual, changing the atmosphere entirely.

Your breath falters and the look in Eric’s eyes has gone from mischievous to almost… vulnerable? You’re now very aware of the way he has you trapped in the corner of his living room, and he seems to be, too. And yet… neither of you attempt to move. Eric’s eyes are full of both hope and worry and he opens his mouth and in a tone that is more nervous than you have ever heard him speak in, he asks,

“Do you want to dance? For real this time?”

~~~

Unspilled tears line your eyes. You’re finally this close to what you want and now that it’s right in front of you, you’re panicking. Suddenly your emotions have overwhelmed you and you’re terrified. You aren’t even being rejected, it’s the exact opposite. Nothing Eric has done tonight has suggested anything other than that he wants you and yet you’re scared. Scared you’re reading it wrong, afraid that you’ve missed the signal that indicates that this is all just a big joke.

Eric has his arms around your waist and forehead against your neck as he slow dances with you. He can’t see the anxiety on your face and he doesn’t know you’re freaking out. You do everything in your power to keep your breaths steady and even, but you can’t and you watch in slow motion as Eric’s face falls when he looks up and witnesses your expression.

He immediately cups your face with one of his palms. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me… please,” Eric pleads. You sniffle but can’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, blinking back your tears. Eric’s face is a mixture of concern and confusion.

“No,” he insists. “Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong. I don’t know why you’re upset, but I promise, I’m not gonna get mad at you.”

“I’m just scared…” you choke out, “that none of this is real. That I’m misinterpreting everything. That… whatever it is you’re doing right now… doesn’t really mean anything to you and I missed the memo. I shouldn’t assume that I’m being tricked based on a few things that happened to me in the past but…” Tears are rolling down your face now and you’re barely holding together what little composure you have left. Eric wipes some of your tears away with his thumb and returns his hand towards your waist.

“Fuck,” he mutters, but there’s no anger in his tone. “I was trying to seduce you tonight, I never meant to bring up those feelings.” Your breath hitches and you’re so stunned you immediately stop crying. You stand there blinking at him, utterly bewildered. Eric chuckles awkwardly. “Why do you think I did my hair and dressed up tonight? I wanted to look good,” he smiles softly, “…for you.”

“Wh- why for me?” You stutter, unable to fully process the situation.

“Because I like you,” Eric replies, “Even if you’re a bit dense sometimes.”

Words fail you completely. The way he smiles at you, it’s like he has the stars in his eyes and you’re drowning in them, hoping you never have to surface. “You like me? Even though I’m…” You don’t have it in you to finish your sentence.

“I like you because you’re…” Eric says, imitating the way you left off the last few words. “I think you’re beautiful, you know,” he says running his hand through your hair. You want to trust him so badly but part of you still has a hard time believing it.

“So… you don’t care that I don’t look like a ‘girl’.”

“I don’t,” Eric confirms. “I think you’re attractive even when other people mistake you for a guy.”

You aren’t crying anymore, but you’re still overwhelmed and your breath shakes as you exhale. Before you even realize it, your hands are moving from Eric’s shoulders to wrap around the back of his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. You hear Eric sigh softly as he tilts his face up towards yours until your lips are mere inches apart. It’s as if you’re being pulled together by magnets the way you angle your face down ever so slightly towards his and he raises his heels off the ground to reach you. The feeling when Eric’s lips finally meet yours is euphoric. You don’t care that it’s awkward the way your noses or teeth sometimes clash because you have no idea what you’re doing right now. You’re just happy to finally be this close to him even though you’ve just made your lack of experience incredibly obvious.

Eric doesn’t seem to care too much either, the way his hands explore your face, back, and waist as if he’ll never be able to get enough of you. All it took was one taste and you know you’re already addicted to having his hands on your body and his lips against yours. Right as you’re thinking that you hope this will never end, Eric pulls away, leaving you feeling disoriented. “Fuck,” he gasps, gripping your waist. The two of you are panting, but with the way he stopped so abruptly, you feel like you’ve been deprived of oxygen, not afforded more of it.

You try to kiss Eric again but your heart sinks a bit when he stops you. “Wait,” he says breathlessly, “I want to take things slow with you. You deserve to have someone properly take their time with you and put you first. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything just because I’m a bit impatient.” Your cheeks feel hot.

“What if… you aren’t the only one who’s impatient?”, you suggest shyly. You feel Eric’s fingers dig into your sides and he moans slightly.

“Don’t- don’t tempt me like that,” he says shakily, clearly struggling to hold himself together. You’re struck with a sudden sense of boldness.

“I want you, Eric.” As soon as his name leaves your mouth, his lips are on yours again and then he’s spreading small kisses all over your face which quickly becomes wet, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You thread your fingers in his hair when he begins to drag his tongue up the skin of your throat. Eric moans against your skin when he hears you sighing his name.

His hands sneak under your shirt to caress the skin of your waist and the sensation of finally having his hands directly on you is so satisfying that you almost don’t start wondering if he can feel the obvious fuzz on your lower back underneath his finger tips. You choose to ignore that thought for now, instead focusing on the way Eric’s mouth is exploring every inch of skin he can access while you still have your shirt on. You’re self conscious still, but you undo the first few buttons of your shirt to let Eric roam further with his lips. He pulls you backwards into to his bedroom, lips never leaving your skin, until he falls back onto his bed, pulling you down with him. You let him roll you over onto your back so that now he’s on top and you’re underneath him.

“Fuck, I want to touch you,” Eric rasps, looking at you with sparkling eyes. You’re about to immediately say yes, then something stops you.

“I… have body hair…” you admit awkwardly. It’s a bit of an understatement, but you’re not sure what else to say. Saying, ‘I was called an animal by the other girls in the middle school locker room,’ would probably not help the mood.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little body hair,” Eric says reassuringly, but the gesture doesn’t help.

“That’s the problem,” you mumble. “It’s not just a little, it’s a lot.”

“Baby, it’s not gonna make me want you any less,” Eric says, leaning up to kiss your cheek. You sigh.

“Promise?”

“Promise. I still really wanna use my fingers on you or go down on you, if you’ll let me.” A shiver runs down your spine.

“Okay,” you acquiesce quietly. Eric runs his hands up and down your sides underneath your top and you allow him to unbutton it the rest of the way, letting it fall off your shoulders. He presses kisses over your sternum, smoothing his hands over your bra and trailing his lips along the path of hair running down your abdomen.

“You’re beautiful,” Eric whispers, his voice brimming with affection. He stops right above the waist of your pants and looks into your eyes, silently requesting to take them off. You nod shyly, and agonizingly slowly, he begins to unbutton them and pull down the zipper. As your pants are pulled down your legs, you become nervous again. You’re wearing underwear, of course, but they do little to hide the amount of hair you have.

“Can I touch you?”, Eric requests softly. You swallow your anxieties and say yes, trying to hide how worried you feel. You yelp in surprise as he pinches your outer thigh gently to get your attention. “Baby, I promise I want you,” he reassures, his calm eyes gazing into your apprehensive ones. “Give me your hand.” He rests his chin on your pubic bone and looks up at you. Eric may have a bit of a smirk on his face, but his eyes are full of sincerity. You allow him to reach up and lace his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small squeeze. “There you go, you’re so good for me,” he praises fondly, delicately trailing the fingers of his free hand over the damp patch that has formed in your underwear.

Eric presses a kiss over the fabric before he asks if he can take them off. Once you give him permission, he pulls them down your legs, tossing them aside, then instructs you to open your legs a bit and put them over his shoulders. You comply. This whole time, Eric still hasn’t let go of your hand. Your bottom half is completely bare now and one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen, one you’re head over heels for, has his face between your thighs.

Your insecurity doesn’t even get the chance to fully resurface because with every kiss he presses to your inner thighs, Eric gives you a compliment. The closer he gets to your core, the more he reminds you how much he wants you, needs you, thinks you’re beautiful. Eventually, he reaches his destination and uses his fingers to spread your folds to get an unobstructed view. You don’t even realize how wet you are right now until you feel Eric’s fingers dip shallowly into your entrance and then rub your slick all over your clit. A small whimper slips out at the unexpected sensation. You didn’t realize how different it would feel to be touched by someone else for once.

You’re even more surprised when he attaches his mouth and begins to alternate between sucking and little flicks with the tip of his tongue. You gasp and grip his hand tighter, your other hand shooting down to grab at Eric’s hair. It’s not until he starts moaning that you realize he’s begun to grind his hips into the mattress as he eats you out. The sight alone is almost enough to make you cum. You can barely believe that not only do you have a gorgeous man burying his face in your pussy, but he’s getting off on it too. Eric suddenly moans extra loudly and the combination of hearing such a dirty sound come from his mouth and feeling his voice’s vibrations in your clit finally pushes you over the edge.

Choking out a high pitched moan, your body trembles and your hips spasm and you don’t think you’ve ever orgasmed harder than this in your life. You’re gasping and panting as you come down and you let your body go slack. “Oh my god,” you say with a bit of a laugh, your chest still heaving. Eric has a self-satisfied look on his face and normally you might find that annoying, but after the way he made you cum just now, you think it’s absolutely warranted.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and moves up the bed to cage you between his arms and give you a peck on the corner of your mouth. “Good?” Eric asks, still smirking a bit.

“I feel kinda like I’m floating,” you sigh with a blissful smile.

“Do you wanna keep going or are you done for the night?”, Eric inquires.

“I can keep going,�� you insist, “just let me catch my breath first. Besides, it would feel awfully unfair if you got to see me naked tonight but I only got to see you fully dressed.”

“You’re still wearing a bra,” Eric points out cheekily. You roll your eyes good-naturedly.

“That’s not the point.”

“I know, I know, I’m messing with you,” he jokes, rolling off of you to sit up next to your reclining figure. “But I still would like to see you with your bra off,” Eric says cheekily.

“I suppose that could be arranged,” you say with a sly smile as you sit up. Reaching behind your back, you unhook it and let the garment slide down your shoulders. Eric looks intently at your breasts as you toss your bra on the floor.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he mutters under his breath, continuing to stare. Based on his facial expression you don’t think he’s even aware that he said anything. Eric reaches out a hand and stops only inches away from your chest before he asks, “can I?”

“As much as you like, Eric,” you confirm, obsessed with the way his mind seems to be almost crumbling just from looking at your tits. He finally closes the distance with his hand, grabbing and gently massaging the flesh and his mouth finds your nipple on the other side, running his flattened tongue over it then taking it into his mouth, beginning to suck.

Originally, you just agreed to let him do this for his own enjoyment. You didn’t expect to get so much more out of someone else touching your breasts than you did when it was just yourself. You’re unable to hold back a pleasured sigh due to how enthusiastic Eric is with his mouth and hands. He pulls his lips off of you with a slight ‘pop’ and before you can even register what’s happening, he’s biting down on the inside of your breast causing you to yelp in surprise.

Immediately, Eric apologizes, but there’s little remorse in his voice as he proudly watches the red mark bloom on your skin. He dives back in to kiss and lick the newly formed bruise. He goes up to kiss your mouth and he’s grinning widely, incredibly pleased with himself.

“Happy with your results?”, you ask, quirking an eyebrow.

“Extremely,” Eric says chuckling. You flick his forehead lightly.

“There’s something you need to fix, though,” you tell him.

“Fix?”

“Yeah. This whole situation still feels awfully unfair,” you complain jokingly. You almost can see the gears turning in his head and then a lightbulb turning on.

“Oh you mean this?” Eric raises his eyebrows with a smirk then gets off the bed to stand in front of it so you can watch him as he takes his shirt off.

“What a smart boy,” you praise sarcastically, watching him hungrily as he begins to remove his pants too. But when he’s finally down to just his underwear, your jaw drops a little bit. You hadn’t paid attention earlier but now that you’re looking, it’s impossible to deny that Eric is big. And this is only from what you can see while he’s still got a layer on. His smile is wolfish as he notices you staring.

“Got anything to say?”, Eric teases, crawling back on top of you and dragging his teeth down your neck with a chuckle. You just moan in response as he sucks another harsh mark onto your skin, this one directly at the base of your neck.

“No fair,” you whine, squirming underneath him. He bites you a couple more times, then you grab his chin. “Can’t I have a turn?” Eric simply hums in agreement then rolls onto his back and pulls you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. When you put your weight down, you can feel how hard he is within his underwear and you briefly wonder what it will be like once he’s inside you. Having him underneath you lights an unexpected fire in your belly and you’re suddenly consumed by the need to own him, have him as yours.

Which is exactly what you plan to do… as soon as you confirm one thing. “Eric,” you murmur, pecking him softly on the lips, “this isn’t just sex, right?” Eric smiles fondly at you.

“God, no. I want to be with you. Unless… that’s not what you want?” He looks at you hopefully.

“I want the same thing,” you agree and with a sudden rush of boldness, you lean down and mumble against his neck, “I needed to be sure that you were mine.” When you hear a shuddering breath escape Eric and feel his dick twitch in response, you know that you’ve had quite an effect on him. You roughly drag your front teeth down the side of his throat, pondering how to go about marking him. “Can I put marks where people can see? You’ll let me claim you, yeah?”, you beg softly, placing gentle kisses along his collarbone.

“Fuck… I didn’t realize you’d have a possessive streak,” Eric groans. “That’s really sexy.” He suddenly lets out a gasp of pain when you bite down. You move your lips to his jawline, right beneath his ear and pull a bit of skin between your teeth and start sucking hard. When you pull away and see the mark darkening on his skin, you feel yourself swell a little with pride at your success. You repeat this along his jaw and down his neck until Eric has a noticeable path of bruises reaching his shoulder.

With your full weight, you settle your hips back down on his, rubbing yourself along his clothed cock and relishing the way you can feel your arousal soaking through his underwear. Eric moans loudly but then grabs your hips to still your movements and sits up against the headboard. He emits a whine as you reposition yourself in his lap and run your hands over his chest.

“Can I fuck you now?” Eric’s eyes are desperate and ravenous. Nobody has ever looked at you like that before and it makes your insides burn with desire.

“…Yeah,” you choke out. You get off of him so he can finally uncover himself completely and you don’t expect your breath to hitch the way it does when erection springs free from its confines. “Holy shit,” you mumble, staring. How does it seem even larger up close? Is it even going to fit?

Without even really thinking about it, your hand reaches out hesitantly to touch him and you gasp in surprise when Eric takes your wrist and guides you the rest of the way. Experimentally, you pump him a few times before letting go to return to your original position in his lap.

It’s finally about to happen and you suddenly feel shy again, causing you to bite your lower lip and look into his eyes for reassurance. “We don’t have to go through with this if you aren’t comfortable,” Eric reminds you, but you shake your head.

“Please,” you beg.

“Anything for you,” Eric says, placing a quick kiss to your lips and then positions his cock right at your entrance as you kneel, hips hovering above his. You slowly sink down on him, barely enveloping him past the tip. It hurts more than you expected, but it almost feels good too, and you can’t help but let out a string of curses and broken moans as you try to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. Pushing past the burn, you lower yourself down more, Eric praising you, running his hands soothingly over your thighs.

You’re panting as you dig your fingernails into his shoulders and if you didn’t pause to look at his face, you would have missed the way Eric is gazing at you as if you hold the whole universe in your hands. Neither of you has said those words yet, but right now, you can’t deny that you feel deeply and utterly loved. Loved by this person who chose to see you instead of just looking at you. You don’t want to say anything for fear of ruining this moment by taking things too fast, so you cup his cheek with one palm and hope that the gesture is enough for him to understand your heart. And when Eric flutters his eyes closed and leans into your touch, you get the feeling that he does.

It takes one more final push before you can feel him bottoming out inside you. You let your head fall back as you gasp for breath. “Please move,” you whimper. “I don’t think I can do it myself.” Eric pulls you towards him to press your torso against his, which lifts your hips slightly in the process. He uses the new angle to slowly pull himself out a bit then plants his feet to thrust back in from underneath you causing you to yelp and whimper. His movements are slow but strong, and the friction you feel inside makes your legs tremble. And much to your satisfaction, Eric isn’t remotely hesitant to be vocal, his extended moans, deep breathing, and occasional whines turning you on more than you’d like to admit. You feel like your whole body is burning from the inside out and you’re crying out his name like it’s the only word you know.

Gradually, Eric increases his pace and pretty soon, both of you have become an absolute mess — sweaty and covered in new bite marks, moaning each other’s names during the occasional moments when you aren’t kissing feverishly. You’re sure that at this point, you’re disturbing the neighbors, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not with the way you’re intoxicated from all of your senses being flooded with nothing but him. Eric is still fucking you hard, doing all the work from underneath and you wonder how he has the stamina to keep going like this. Deep inside, you can feel a familiar pressure building up again. Your orgasm begins to approach and from the way his thrusts become frantic and start to lose their rhythm, you know Eric is getting close too.

“Please, please, please…” you chant breathlessly as your walls begin to clench and spasm around him.

“Cum for me, please,” Eric begs you in return and then starts rambling fervently. “Just let go, please, you’re so good for me, please… I love you…”

And then you cum. Your orgasm crashes over you more intensely than you’ve ever experienced before and as you cry out and tremble in his arms, Eric’s words play over and over in your head. I love you. I love you. I love you. You don’t have the mental space right now to wonder if he even meant it or if it was something he just said in the spur of the moment. To you it felt real.

With a low groan, you feel Eric spill inside you, his hips stuttering until they still as he rides out his own orgasm. When you feel a hot tear drip down your face, you finally realize that you’re crying. You aren’t sure why at first — you aren’t upset, you aren’t in pain, everything seems to be fine. But when you look at Eric and he sees your glassy eyes and he starts to apologize, asking if he used the word ‘love’ too soon, suddenly it makes sense. You’re just emotionally sensitive right now and with a sniffle and your arms wrapped around his neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Eric kisses away your tears and smooths over your hair with his hand. His length slips out of you and you can feel sticky cum drip down your inner thighs as he flips you over and gently lays you on your back. He wastes no time in cleaning you up and soon enough he’s pulling a blanket over you and crawling into bed next to your still panting figure. Eric wraps you in his arms, pressing a sweet peck to your cheek. “Let’s just get to sleep, yeah?” He says and you allow yourself to doze off, safe and warm within his embrace.

~~~

When Monday rolls around, you don’t know how to feel about going to school with a few too many hickies to realistically cover up. You’re proud of who you got them from, but at the same time, you’re a bit mortified. People have been giving you weird glances since you arrived this morning and you know it’s because your neck is covered in bite marks and bruises. As you walk into the classroom, you see one or two people whispering and while you doubt they’re saying anything mean, it’s still embarrassing knowing that they can’t help but to mention to their friends how obvious it is.

Not long after you sit down, you hear a familiar voice cheerfully announce “Hey, babe!” You turn to smile at Eric who’s making his way towards you, giving you a quick kiss on the lips before he settles in the chair next to you. Both the simultaneous feelings of pride and humiliation return when it occurs to you that his neck looks just as bad as yours and now everyone can tell that you got those marks from each other. Regardless, you can’t suppress the smile that surfaces at the sight of your new boyfriend sitting next to you.

When class ends and you’ve both packed up your belongings, Eric grabs your hand and walks with you out of the room, swinging your intertwined hands as you go. You giggle at his affectionate gesture. “Any plans for the day?”, Eric asks as you walk leisurely through one of the campus’ green spaces.

“Hm,” you consider. “Not really. I was just considering grabbing some snacks and sneaking them into the library so I can eat while I study. Wanna come with?” Eric nods and soon enough you find yourself sharing a sofa in a more secluded study area, discretely feeding each other chocolate covered pretzels and trying not to laugh too hard at stupid videos you’re watching on his phone, the original plan to study completely forgotten.

You’re so content right now that nothing could spoil this moment for you. Not even when Gina (who usually makes your blood boil) accidentally happens upon the scene while Eric is pressing a long kiss to your neck, not even aware she’s there. You smile a little and wave and you can tell she’s noticed the marks decorating both your and Eric’s necks when she subconsciously touches her own, facial expression brimming with disgust. As you let out a brief chuckle, Eric detaches his lips from your skin and looks at you questioningly. He raises his eyebrows but you just shake your head. “Nothing important,” you say and run your hand through his hair. Eric shrugs.

“Okay.” Then he leans his head against your shoulder as you both absentmindedly fidget with each other’s hands, just enjoying the peaceful moment together.

“Eric?”, you ask, getting his attention.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

That’s all you say. You give no context, no explanation, but that’s okay because when you look into his eyes, you see that he knows exactly what you mean.

——end——

Holy shit I’ve never written something so long before or even thought about writing something this long. I think I might be insane. But that’s okay. It resulted in this fic and I’m happy with it.

#tbz smut #tbz eric smut #eric sohn #the boyz smut

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randomsloredrops · 3 months ago

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Random's Lore Drops - Cnaonfell Papayas WOOOO-

i'm running out of shit to name these you gotta give me suggestions as to what I can name these lore drops. fish lady's next so literally ANYBODY who's reading this gimme a funny name to call undyne in her post. ANYWAYS, Howdy hey fellas, name's Ran- wait no, that's my intro in my soundcloud FUCK. Anyways, name's Random, you know this, you read the fucking title, let's get to the point. BRING OUT THE PICTURE OF THE... wait... just Papyrus? He doesn't have a canon nickname? Fuck... BRING OUT PAPYRUS!

(Design by THE one and only Vic The Fella/Underfella/Underfell.) You dont understand how long it took me to get the small amount of sans out and all of the information arrows, holy SHIT. anyways cue the uhhh read more

alright time to act formal now that the curtains are down or some shit idk. Papyrus T. Skeleton, also known as Papyrus, Pap, and also... bonehead? wait am i reading this right? damn,, alright, so basically fuck the formality. alright jackasses, let's get yapping. if you know papyrus, then you should be able to tell that, well... he's a skeleton. hence the last name "skeleton". but, unlike undertale's papyrus, canonfell papyrus... is a part of the fucking royal guard. IN FACT! he's second in command, which means he's actually pretty cool and... cool. yeah, that's it. anyways, you might have noticed the weird wonky armor that just looks like an evil papyrus armor, HOWEVER, he does have official "Royal Guard" armor that he despises wearing. Unless he's on official business, such as with Asgore or Undyne, he won't wear it. Design is HERE. You're prolly wondering where Papyrus got his scar from. Well, basically, to put a long story short, his brother was about to get killed by uhhhh Asgore because he couldn't break the barrier like Gaster said they would, and so Papyrus stopped Asgore. Guess what HE gets? A position in the Royal Guard, and his eye being stabbed in by Asgore's claw. Sans gets POWERS!, thas it. Unlike most Monsters in Underfell, he feels remorse- hold on, what's that word mean? what the fuck does remorse mean, google dot com... found it. so basically, he feels regret any time he HAS to kill, and he also swears the least out of everybody. Oh, right. CHECK OUT BROTHER RELATIONSHIP HERE FUCKHEADS! k, i dont have to explain. Oh yeah, Papyrus laughs really fucking weirdly, going "HAW HAW HAW" instead of "NYEH HEH HEH". According to fella, it is a "very powerful ugly laugh". It makes him hate when people try to make him laugh. According to my sources (canonfell wiki)... Ahem... "Papyrus likes evil puns, but will not get regular ones". I am going to kill somebod- Oh YEAAAH, papayas cooks lasagna instead of spaghetti. He also cooks chimichangas, which Sans sells, and he... wants to write his own cookbook? I mean, shit, I'd buy it. Also, in terms of, like, AUs meeting AUs, Underfell Papyrus is friends with Horrortale Papyrus and "Trades" recipes. He does not accept Horror Papyrus' recipe for... obvious reasons. Papyrus is an AMAZING actor, being able to pretend that he's this menacing Royal Guard, and pretend he does the killing he's forced to do for sport. Don't forget that his voice is canonically deeper, but he can LITERALLY just raise the pitch in his voice whenever he wants and shock people. Lastly (because it's almost 2 AM)... Papyrus is Asgore's number 1 hater, and he can't do shit about it (if Papyrus is weaker than Undyne, and Undyne's weaker than Asgore... Well, obviously he won't win). Anyways, fuck you, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your week!

#random's lore drops #undertale #papyrus undertale #underfell #canonfell oh how i missed working on your posts (no i didnt)#utdr #anyways fellas. like i said at the end of the post: “fuck you! i hope you have a wonderful rest of your week!”#(reference to “fuck you! i hope your family has a nice christmas!”)

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years ago

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I cannot tell 100% if ur ask box is open or not so if it is not feel free to ignore this please!!!

But if it is open! Could you write about luffy, shanks, and sanji reacting to their significant others stretchmarks on her upper thighs? I got like real bad ones RIGHT below my butt that go down a bit so now I don’t wear short skirts or short shorts :,)

Again feel free to ignore have a LOVELY day!!!

I always wanted stretch marks on my butt :(((( i have em on my inner thighs n chest. I FRIGGIN LOVE STRETCH MARKS. Especially on men😚😚 Dont be ashamed of them stripes babe theyre so beautiful:) anyways enjoy!

Them with a S/O That Has Stretch Marks (SFW-ISH)

Ft. Sanji, Luffy, Shanks

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Reader is insecure, Shanks needs a leash, Sanji’s is suggestive, Mentions of Sex, uhhh yeah

Luffy

Physical “flaws” isn’t something he even notices on you. Small/saggy breasts? Okay? He still wanna squeeze. Cellulite? Who gives af he likes ‘em. Stretch marks though? He still dont care.

He doesn’t pay mind to stuff like that let alone question it. Luffy…Luffy just dont gaf man if he likes you he likes all of you.

If he peeps you being out right “i hate my stretch marks” or whatever he just wouldn’t understand why.

“They’re like smaller versions of the scars i have! I like em!”

Bless his heart he will always make you feel so loved about your stripes. He traces them alot when you let him lay on you and trace them with his finger as he talks to you about his goal and dream.

(Slightly NSFW) For some reason you speaking on your stretch mark insecurity was something he just couldn’t forget. He has forgotten many things you’ve told him; anniversary, birthday, hell even your name once but he never forgets to lick and kiss your marks and blemishes in appreciation before going down on you. His kisses are so slow and soft giving each of your “flaws” the right attention you damn near cried when he first did it because it felt so out of character for him.

Sanji

Bold of you to assume this man would love you any less because of that.

Sanji doesn’t care if you have stretchmarks, pigmentation, hairy, cellulite. Doesn’t matter he loves you so just believe it and move on

He noticed almost immediately what your insecurities were by the way you act when they’re mentioned and his assumptions were correct when you and him were about to take a shower together for the first time, but you wasn’t sure he’d like what he seen

“I just…have stretch marks all over and—“

He didn’t say much, he simply begins to slowly strip down your towel kissing your lips tenderly mumbling praises in between about your body.

“Your stretch marks were never an issue.”

If anything Sanji does in fact love your stretch marks. They were one of the first things he noticed (AND WAS INFATUATED WITH) when he seen them. He wanted nothing more than to trace his tongue on each one and leave a kiss. They’re normal to have what’s problem with them?

“Everything about you is nothing less than perfect you know.”

You felt a tinge of embarrassment feeling Sanji’s soft hands glide over your marked breast, butt, and thighs in the shower, but his neck kisses gave you a form of calmness you just couldn’t explain. Which he was grateful for when you told him that night as he massaged your body.

Shanks

He doesn’t give af about your insecurities and i say that in the most respectful way.

“Stretch marks? Thats a dumb thing to be upset over? Here. Look.”

He doesn’t give a shit because he also has them on his shoulders.

“See? They’re just things you get when your body grows, dummy. Now come here.”

Yeah he teases you a bit, but only about being ashamed of something you can’t necessarily help.

He makes you sit on his lap in front of the mirror and begins to grope you like the caveman he was

“You know how hot your tiger stripes look when i cum on your ass? Or these great tits—”

“SHANKS!?”

He laughs at your shyness,kissing your cheek to then move your face to look at you both in the mirror.

He doesn’t know where the animosity you have against them began but he doesn’t really care to know. The most he wants to do right now is make you forget about it.

“How about i spoil you tonight.” His fingers dancing on your clothed cunt under your skirt, making your back arch a little at how delicate his index and middle finger swirled in your clit,“I want to see every stretch mark you have.”

Shanks reminds you that night that he is with you because of you not because of your stretch marks.

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wishing-on-a-staranise · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter 1: Three inches minimum.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Warnings: y/n might or might not be used; no pronouns used (gn!reader); flashbacks within a flashback; suggestivenes (no smut); trauma; might be canon divergent in future (cuz screw the canon) ; very questionable food choices on readers part (don't ask me I have no idea why I put it in)

word count: 9.5k

A/n: alright gang! we start all over again and imma do this right this time. i really am liking doing this rewrite/revamp of the old stuff now that i know where to take this story. so ive added new stuff that i really wanted to and got rid of some stuff as well.

i dont write smut but this is an 18+ blog mdni

promises series masterlist

...

Life in Hawkins was not a normal one. But then again, what did you know about the norm anyway?

You ran away from the Hawkins lab in 1980. Even after all these years, its memories still haunted you. You still got nightmares, they had never really stopped.

It was hard to forget, you in your dirty hospital gown, the cloth had still smelled of smoke. You had been lethargic, exhausted, but you had a goal in mind. Find Eight.

You didn't know where she was, but she was your best bet. In the lab, she was the closest thing you had had to a friend. she was your sister. She told you about what her life was like before she had been taken to the lab, she had remembered a lot from then, you on the other hand, didn't. she used tell you all she remembered from outside.

it had been so long since you had last seen her. two years. 1978.

“Come with me”, she had almost begged, holding your hands in her, “we’ll do all that we wanted to. We’ll be free”

You don't know why you couldn't do it then.

“Please. We’ll have names, we’ll find your real parents, we'll find mine, we’ll be together, we'll be free, that's what you wanted too, didnt you?” she swallowed, desperate, chest heaving. the alarms had been ringing through the halls. The clang of the heavy metal doors and boots stomping rang in the air— they were coming, Papa was coming. you were running out of time. you could run far far away. But you were stuck, your throat dry.

“I.. we can’t”, was all that came out. Your words betrayed you because Eight was right, it was all you wanted. It was all both of you wanted. More than anything. But in the heat of the moment, everything was scary, you were so damn scared.

Eight stared at you, she stepped back, your shaky hands slipping out of her own. The noise got louder, the stomps closer. The betrayal and confusion on her features quickly morphed into a stoic expression.

“Maybe he’s right.” she swallowed, shaking her head, “You are too weak”, she turned and started walking away. you wanted to call after her but nothing came out. she stopped– the guards were so close– she turned her head a little yet still not showing you her face.

“Goodbye, seven.”

You had to find her because despite what she had said, she was your only hope. two years later, it was a shot in the dark at best, but what other choice did you have?

you tried looking for her, but the void was nothing but emptiness, yet crowded as a maze. she wouldn't let you see her. She was hiding, or rather, just not letting you in. you just hoped she was okay.

You weren't sure how, but you managed to stay out of suspicion for a week before an old woman found you trying to ‘steal’ clothes– a jacket more specifically.

That's when you met Jim hopper.

“Ok, kid. How about you start by telling me your name?” a low gruff in the man’s voice. You stayed silent as you looked down to your hands in your lap, there was dirt beneath your nails. Water was hard to come across when you're on the run, especially in this cold.

“How about, where you're from, ‘cause I know you're not from around here” Hopper spoke up again. You pulled the sleeves of your full sleeved t-shirt further down, palms sweaty.

“Listen, kid”, he sighs, “ you’ve gotta give me something” you infact continued to give him nothing. you tuck your cold fingers under your thighs, trying your best to hold back the shivers. The ill-fitted t-shirt and joggers you'd found the day after you'd run away didn't do much in matters of protecting you from the cold. That was why you had tried to get that thick jacket. the very same you were caught ‘stealing’ that had brought you here.

“Mrs. Lauter wanted me to arrest you, y’know?” he tried to prompt you. you didn't look up from the tattered shoes you wore– they didn't fit you, they weren't yours.

“Hey!”, he raised his voice a little, your gaze snapped to his– eyes panicking. “look at me when I am talking to you!” he said sternly.

His gaze softened up along with his voice. “don't have to worry though. I got it under cover. Dumpster diving isn't much of an offense. But you gotta tell me where you came from so i can take you back home”

“No”, you finally speak up with a finality that he hadn't expected.

“Oh, so you do speak”, he leaned back in his chair, looking at you, analysing every detail about you. you avoided eye contact, your frame shivering, the dirt on your skin, your hair, “What's with the whole buzz cut, huh? Last time i checked, that wasn't what the kids were doing these days”

you wrapped your arms around your body, eyes still trained down. “C'mon kid you gotta give me something”, he huffed.

the only movement he got from you was you blinking down at your shoes. “Fine”, Frustrated, he got up, his chair pushed behind him, “then i guess you wouldn't mind being locked up in juvie then”

You looked up at him, eyes wide, brows knotted, not understanding what he said meant.

“That's little people jail”, realisation flashed across your face and he waited for you to say something but when you didn't say anything, he picked up his hat from the table with a deep sigh and moved to walk out.

Just when he was about to push the door to head outside his office, “I need to find my sister”, came a quivering voice behind him, your eyes finally looking at him.

There it is, he thought to himself.

“So”, he started, walking back to his chair, “this sister of yours. What's her name?”

“I– I don't know”, you stuttered, gaze moving back to your hands. You mentally berated yourself for letting it slip. you weren't even sure why you trusted him enough with that information, maybe that was just your 14 year old brain being stupid. you wondered what her name was now.

“You don't know? Your own sister's name?” he waited for an answer, leaning against the table, “what did I say about looking at me when I talk to you?”

You looked at him apprehensively, arms wrapping tighter around yourself, trying your best to not shiver.

He sighed again, voice low, “Listen kid, it's late. So I'd appreciate it if you gave some answers.”

No response.

You weren't sure why, but Jim was willing to help you. you lived under his roof for two weeks, during which he considered what to do with you.

Whenever he inquired about your past, he would be greeted with nothing but silence. He tried asking about the sister you mentioned– nothing.

He decided calling child protective services was the best choice but you knew that as soon as Hopper would make it that call, your Papa would be at his door– ready to take you back to the lab.

Just when he was about to do it, you had grabbed Hopper's hand before he could dial the number and made him forget all about it.

you needed time. you had to find your sister. and for some reason this man wanted to help you, for some reason you felt safe. you felt guilty, using him as just a means to your end. you promised yourself to not use your powers on him ever again.

Hopper didn't adopt you. He was aware that he was a drunk smoker and his place wasn't exactly the most child friendly place, filled with unprescribed medication that he popped like candy.

Hopper did find you the cheapest place in Hawkins, paid your rent until you could get a job, and even enrolled you into school.

Speaking of which– School was fun….. for the first five days– those five days you'd managed to stay invisible, making sure to not draw attention to yourself. But on the sixth day, you realised that you were behind, classes were hard, neither the students nor the teachers were kind.

So you'd get in fights, and the principal would tell you to call your parents and you would call over Hopper– him being the closest thing to it. Hopper would make you promise that you won't repeat your actions, but you would break that promise too.

Then the year 1983 came and Hopper came across the upside down. He instinctively hid the true story of the missing Byer's kid from you– adamant to keep you away from danger. not knowing that you had always been part of it.

You had taken up a job at a gift shop near melvalds. And were now finally making somewhat of an income to survive but now no longer in as much contact as before with Hopper. You were blissfully unaware of your troublesome past lurking only two steps behind you.

The following year, you somehow got roped into the madness of the upside down. When you found out about Eleven and her powers, and you couldn't lie anymore. You recounted your past with Hopper and the young girl who you shared a similar past with.

Hopper had forced you to stay with the kids at the Byer's house with a boy from your school year. Steve Harrington. You knew Steve, he was given titles like "the hair" or "king". Far more better than the titles you were given.

That night you both stood up against Billy, a rage-filled moron. When Steve was down, and he was closing in on the kids, you decided to step in between– shielding them. You had extended your hand, palm splayed across his chest. While pushing him away, you had tried to use your powers, control his mind, maybe just make him faint– you’d done it before. You had done much worse in the past.

Much to your horror, though– your powers didn't work, they were gone.

as soon as the realisation had hit, there had been a pause. Billy had looked at where your palm touched him and then back to your face. He had smirked.

The situation spiralled out of control. You then helped the kids with their plan sporting a broken left arm and dragging along a very concussed Steve.

At the snowball, hopper told you that he was planning on adopting both you and Eleven. Ecstatic, you dropped Eleven off to Mike so they could have their much earned time. Nancy, to whom you'd talked to once, was sharing a dance with Dustin. And Jonathan clicked everyone's pictures. You had decided it was better you wait outside with Hopper.

On your way out, you noticed a familiar car– looking in closely, you realised that it was Steve– his face no longer covered in scars and bruises. The sudden urge to go over, talk and maybe even thank him for helping you back there with the Billy situation. You looked over to Hopper, as if silently asking for permission to go over to him. After he had given a slight nod, you walked over to the car and knocked on the window. He cranked down the glass.

"Hey”, he smiled.

…

Eleven was out again with Mike. Hopper had left for the station and now you were all alone. No one to talk to. You found it ironic how you'd lived in loneliness almost all your life yet you still weren't used to it.

You didn't even want to bother calling anyone because literally everyone had gotten either a job or internship over the summer– Steve at scoops ahoy, Nancy and Jonathan at the Hawkins Post and- well you didn't have any other friends who were your age.

So here you were, in the quiet of Hopper's cabin– save for the chittering of the squirrel Eleven had named Mr. Fibbly. You were alone with nothing to do so might as well do some sort of chores. After racking your brain for what chore to settle on, you decided– Laundry, it is.

Your mind went on autopilot as you gathered the laundry from your adopted father's and sister's room. As you padded to the room with the washing machine, you felt a disturbance. Come to think of it, you had also felt something the night prior as well.

A headache, it was a much milder version of the headache you felt when you used to use your powers but you had lost your powers almost a year ago. So, you brushed it off as your mind playing tricks on you– which you found hilariously ironic, considering that it used to be you who used to play tricks on the mind.

As you unloaded the laundry basket, you felt something again. This time, it wasn't a headache but it felt as though there was a presence. Your actions stopped as the past year's memories came flooding back. The fear that those things could be back weighed heavily on you. Your heartbeat picked up its speed. You had almost been mauled by those demo-dogs, you were traumatised to say the least.

The whisper of wood creaking reached your ears and your throat went dry. Perhaps what's scarier than being alone is realising that you never were. but you're in the cabin, it's safe here. It's supposed to be safe here.

then you heard it again– another creak. You wanted to run and hide yet you also wanted to look at the intruder but your legs wouldn't budge, as if stuck to the floor.

When you finally managed to move your feet and turn around, you were suddenly engulfed in arms and a scent that you've grown all too familiar with.

"STEVE!", you let out a yelp as you turned around to face him, "YOU ASSHOLE! YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!", you smacked his shoulder as he laughed but then atleast he had the decency to give you a sheepish smile and breathe out a quiet "sorry".

Before you knew it, his lips caught yours, heart still beating loudly against your ribs and lips moving with a rhythm that you'd now gotten used to.

Kissing wasn't really your strongest suit as you'd never really done it before Steve stumbled into your life but you'd gotten a lot of practice in the last seven days.

A smile crept onto your face as he kissed you deeper, his hand held the back of your head. Your hands dropped the shirt that you were holding back in the laundry basket and instead held his jaw as your thumbs rubbed against his cheeks– the skin warm under your fingertips.

"Missed you so much", he mumbled between kisses. Heat crept up your neck as you giggled through the kisses, "you were here yesterday."

"Yeah, so?", he pulled away– not too far though, your noses still touching, "i just wanna be with my favourite person." He planted another small kiss on your lips as if to punctuate his sentence. Another giggle erupted from your throat as he pulled you impossibly closer.

"I thought Dustin was your favourite person"

"Let's not bring Henderson into this, he's barely a person. besides, I'm not interested in kissing him"

Your hands went up to Steve's hair, fingers mindlessly playing with the brown strands that fell on his forehead. "How exactly did you get in?", you asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Same as always– your bedroom window", he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“You didn't fall again did you?”

“What? No– no, I'm too agile for that”, he paused when you looked at him with raised eyebrows, "who am I kidding? I almost fell. again" he said as his head hung in embarrassment.

"you could've just used the main door– you know no one's home except me", you laughed.

"Where's El?"

"With Mike", you said with a slight scowl, "God, she's with him all the time and they're always swapping spit!"

"Bit like us, isn't it?", He wiggled his brows and you rolled your eyes, "just let her be– she's a kid. Y'know hormones 'n stuff"

"Yeah, I know– it's just– she's barely home and I'm just worried about her, y'know?"

"Yeah, and it's completely okay to be worried", Steve started drawing circles on your shoulder with his fingers perhaps to provide some semblance of comfort, "but you know that she can't always be here right?"

"But I am always here."

"you don't have to be", he frowned and slightly shook his head– looking right in your eyes. This wasn't the first time Steve had mentioned this. He would try to convince you to visit him at the mall, to which you'd mention Hopper's rules and that it was too many people. He would then ask you to come over at his house, since it was always empty, you would again say no– never elaborating.

"But it's like the only place I feel safe, since everything that happened…. Last year", that was only partially a lie. The truth was it was the only place where you had felt safe ever.

"Hey", he held your face in his hands, "those things are gone, okay? Your dad made sure of it." You nodded, choosing not to tell him about the apprehension you've felt in the last couple days– knowing full well that telling him of your anxieties would inadvertently lead to you having to tell him about your now non-existent powers and your past in the lab. The past that you've left behind and have decided to pass off as nothing but a bad dream.

You make a note to maybe tell Hopper or Eleven about all of that though.

A lazy smile adorned Steve's lips as his thumb swiped back and forth on your cheeks. "You look so cute when you're worried", he said with a smirk, as he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger. The smile on your lips grew wide, the corners of your mouth morphing into a suppressed smile. You wanted to say something, your lips even parted to tell him how much you think he's cute and handsome and pretty and how much you were glad that he was there with you but nothing came out. And he didn't need you to. He lifted your chin up to his and you were kissing again– this time more slower and softer than the last.

In that moment, when your bodies were pressed together, you felt like you were in one of those movies that you and Eleven would watch with Hopper on movie nights and then your father would leave around the 30 minute mark, saying that it was too 'awkward'. cheesy rom-coms, that's what he had called them.

Everytime felt better than the last with Steve. As your lips moved in tandem, his arms wrapped tighter than ever around your waist, slightly lifting you off the floor for a second. You gasped into the kiss and your hands slid down from his hair to his chest, laying flat above his heart.

"Steve-" you whispered in between kisses, "Steve I-", he just kept kissing you, "Steve- Harrington!-", you whisper-shouted. The boy let out a hum against your lips, the sound so warm that it was sure to melt you up into warm and happy goo. You almost wanted to give in to him, be engulfed in his scent and warmth while he kissed all your anxieties away. Yet you reluctantly nudged his chest away from yours. Your faces were merely inches away– his warm breath breezed against your cheeks and when your eyes met his, you saw his pupils dilated and lips swollen. His chest heaved a little as he steadied his breath– he was still staring at your lips.

"Steve, I have to do the laundry", you breathed out.

"C'mon you do that like every day", he huffed as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, well there's new laundry every day", you begrudgingly moved out of his arms.

"That's preposterous."

"I don't even know what that means", you said with a laugh.

"Neither do I, honestly–", he said with a chuckle, "Dustin used that word and I was like 'I have to use it', so I can fool you into thinking that you actually have a smart boyfriend."

"C'mon you are smart."

"Only to you." He sighed.

“You have to stop talking about yourself like that…. I mean it, Steve." you frowned with a sigh. “You are smart"

"Yeah, that's exactly why I'm scooping ice cream for a job"

"Smartness isn't all about school or marks or jobs or any of that bullshit." You ranted as Steve looked at you with enamoured eyes, "you are smart. You are strong. Last year when everything went to shit, you were the one who made sure of the kids even with a concussion. You looked after them and me. You took Billy Hargrove's beating to make sure the rest of us were okay-"

"That's not what smartness is–"

"-shut up! I don't wanna listen to you putting yourself down." You huffed in frustration, "you protected Dustin, Max and everyone else, you saved me! You make such a huge impact– if it wasn't for you, someone could've died, Steve. But you were there, you made sure that that didn't happen. You aren't weak. And you are a hero. D'you understand?"

Steve nodded, almost dumbfounded as it was probably the most you'd said in one sentence, ever. a faint smile painted itself on his face, his cheeks rosy.

You nodded, “good��, pecked the tip of his nose. you turned around, facing the washing machine– getting back to laundry.

You picked up Hopper’s shirts, checking the pockets in case there were any bills or coins hidden in them– your only form of income. Steve once again tightened his arms around your torso, resting his chin on your shoulder– nuzzling into your neck. His warm breath fanned against your collarbone. “Don’t mind me”, his chest rumbled as he spoke through a smile. You let out a playful sigh and continued your work.

Both of you stayed that way for a while. You checked the pockets of shirts and trousers, separating colours from white just like Hopper had taught you. All the while, Steve landed lazy kisses on your cheek, neck and collarbone. You'd wish you could stay that way forever– so warm, so comfortable, so nice. Maybe it was the fact that it was your first relationship ever and had only now felt safe enough to think of someone in a romantic way but you wanted it to last forever.

Feelings were weird and hard to talk about, and you weren't the best at conveying them. The past week you've wanted nothing more than to tell Hopper and Eleven about yourself and Steve. But your communication skills (or lack thereof) prevented you.

Steve loved watching you just doing normal everyday things, it reminded him of his mother– back when she was around more. So whenever he was not at work or being used as a valet driver by Dustin, he was sneaking over to your cabin. Before you both started dating, he would call you– making sure that Hopper wasn't home and then come barging in with a new cassette tape or to make you try some new ice cream flavour. It took him a couple months to realise that he was essentially looking for excuses to be around you– to feel that lovely and fuzzy feeling that he felt whenever he was with you.

So, eight days prior, he finally built up the courage.

Staring at the wood grain of the cabin door, your favourite ice cream and some flowers in hand, Steve was starting to consider backtracking a little. He really didn't want to mess things up between you two. And as he knocked on your cabin's door, he was contemplating the entire thing but before he could turn around and disappear, the door opened. And there you were, in a plaid shirt that probably belonged to Hopper at some point, hair sticking up in places.

"Steve?"

"H-hey", His cheeks turned pink when your eyes met his and then your gaze trailed down to the flowers and ice cream held out in front of him. The corners of your mouth curving into a smile. That smile– the one he'd couldn't get enough of. "You didn't call today, hopper could've been here”, you said, looking back up at him. he wondered if you could tell how nervous he was.

"Yeah, sorry, I uh- I bought this", he held up the ice cream cup and then the bouquet, "and- and these f- for you", he stuttered as he handed you both. God, whatever happened to the harrington charm?

You let out a giggle as you hugged the flowers close to your chest, "yeah, well duh", you joked, not truly understanding the meaning behind his gesture. It was pretty common for Steve to bring you ice cream anyway, the flowers didn't make sense but then again you weren't the greatest at grasping social cues.

You turned on your heel, socked feet moving toward the kitchen so you could grab a spoon for the ice cream. Steve was still stuck, standing at the doorway, face bright red.

You started rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen to try and find two spoons. When you found them, you held the pair up in the air, one for him to take, “Here,” looking back up at him, you saw that he was already looking at you as if about to say something.

say it.

“You okay?” you asked, brows pulled together.

okay, maybe don't say it.

“Steve? Why do you look so–”

fuck it.

"I like you", Steve blurted out– like he was ripping a bandaid. You stopped in your tracks and stared at him, the easy smile on your face fell. He fucked up, didn't he? He has ruined everything, and now he has lost another friend–

You burst into laughter, “yeah, I know Steve. I like you too." you playfully hit his upper arm before holding up the spoon again, "Here.”

the utensil still stayed in your hand, the deep furrow in his brow hadn't disappeared, only, it grew deeper.

"What?" you asked with an uneasy laugh.

“That not what I… meant”, he paused, "I- I like you."

You blinked, processing it, all that came out was, “oh.”

He calls out your name. He let out a deep breath, you however looked like you had forgotten how to breathe. Steve squeezed his eyes shut, mentally berating himself for being so nervous– it was a first for him.

you looked at him like a deer caught in headlights, he could almost see the cogs and gears turning in your head. after a few seconds you spoke up, “We’re… we’re best friends...” your voice barely a whisper.

Steve swallowed, trying his best not to show any disappointment on his features, nodding slowly before before turning to rush out of the door and get the hell out of there.

“Steve?” he heard behind him and despite his mind telling him to leave, his heart echoed. he swallowed, turning around hesitantly. and there you were, hair still messy, clothes wrinkled as always, hands fidgeting by your sides, you looked as if you were preparing yourself to say something.

You walked towards him and as you stood infront of him, you gulped. but you didn't say anything.

next thing he knew your lips were on his and the moment after it they were gone. it ended as quickly as he felt it.

You looked at him with doe eyes, Steve knew he probably had the stupidest grin on his face. a shy toothy smile grew on your face too. he extended his hand to you, you took it and he realised that you were trembling. He squeezed your hand. His gaze trailed down to your lips, you bit your lips before speaking up in barely above a whisper. "I think... that I like you too."

Steve let out another exacerbated breath as he smiled wider. His face was all red, and his stupid dopey smile that probably looked as though he'd won a lottery.

He murmured your name through bated breath. "Yeah, Steve?"

"Can I- uh- do that again?", His fingers intertwined with yours almost as if to make sure that this was actually happening.

You nodded quickly.

Your eyes fluttered close as he landed a chaste kiss on your lips. Steve made sure that the kiss was light and soft, almost as if dipping his toe to test the waters. And before you knew it, it was already over. He pulled back eyes wandering over your features, looking to make sure that you were okay with this. You looked back up at him with your lips slightly parted– in an unreadable expression.

"You okay?", He asked quietly. You nodded, "yeah, you okay?"

"never better."

...

That was the start of something big, Steve knew that. Although it had only been a week since the incident, he knew he didn't just like you– there was way more. There was care, there was understanding, there was trust and more.

Memories swirled in both your heads while your hands worked on their own accord, still doing the laundry. You picked up Hopper's dirty uniform pants, following the routine of checking the pockets. Then you reached for the shirt of the pair in the basket yet it was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Stevie", you piped up and he let out a small hum behind you. "Could you go and get Hopper's shirt from his room?"

"Sure can." He mumbled before pecking your cheek and then he went to Hopper's room to retrieve the shirt. He was back within mere seconds, "here ya go, your highness", he said, handing you the shirt that reeked of way too much sweat, cigarettes and beer.

You continued with the work, taking out the cigarettes from the pocket with a sigh. Hopper had promised that he'd quit smoking so much– guess he broke that promise.

Steve picked up the pack and took one in his mouth, searching for a lighter. You took the cigarette out from between his lips and the pack in his hand and threw it in the trash. "C'mon don't be like Hopper" you said with a frown, "he literally can't stay away from those."

“One smoke wont hurt. Besides I haven't smoked in more than a year now”, Steve said returning to his previous position of holding you, "don't wanna be a bad role model for the kids, I guess."

"Wow, now you really sound like a dad", you let out a chuckle.

"I'm not their dad", he groaned.

"So, mom, huh?"

"I wont kiss you if you keep calling me that", he mumbled behind your ear– a giggle erupting at the ticklish feeling and what was now an inside joke between you two. "Let's just stick with ‘role model’" you nodded.

"I'd say that they look up to you…. Especially Dustin"

".....Y' think so?"

You hummed in response. It didn't take a genius to notice the bond between Dustin and Steve. Sure, it was a bit out of normal to befriend someone five years younger than oneself but then again none of the circumstances they'd been through were normal. And ever since the previous year's events, Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson had developed a sort of brotherly bond.

"cool", he muttered nonchalantly.

Comfortable silence once again fell between the two of you. Steve drew circles on the exposed skin beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers leaving sparks along the surface. In all honesty, you wanted to drop all your laundry and just let him hold you, kiss you.

You and Steve had only been together for more than a week at this point– only going as far as kissing. You were still incredibly new to all relationship stuff, so Steve (despite being quite a horndog) had given you plenty of space. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe– and you were grateful for that. However, it was hard to ignore the attraction you both felt for each other. In ways both emotional and physical. Hopper hadn't ever truly given you the birds and bees talk, so you were a little clueless in the process of it all. Yet you knew that you felt something when it came to Steve Harrington. Something that you've never felt before.

You put in the last shirt in the machine, with the detergent and started it. You turned around in Steve's arms as you wrapped yours around his neck.

His hair was short of a mess, but it was still a pretty mess and stray strands bounced against his forehead. You both were so close that you could count all the moles and freckles on his face. Your gaze ran over all his features, taking it all in, engraving it to memory. Because you didn’t want to forget about the slight pinkish hue of his cheeks, the small bump on his nose that might’ve been the result of being hit a few times too many, or his lips. His soft, pink, warm, yet slightly chapped lips. The very same that had been on yours just a bit ago. Your proximity even allowed you to see the scars that the previous years had brought to him, they were small and barely noticeable now but they were there and you wanted to trace them and kiss them all.

“Y’know I would’ve called you creepy for staring so intently, if you weren’t so cute”, Steve smirked.

You tried to hide your face in his chest to hide your embarrassed features. He kissed the top of your head, mumbling a little, “you’re so cute”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking….”, your voice tapered off as you tried to look for the right words.

“Yeah, what were you thinking?”

“Y’know… Thinking about... us?”

His breath hitched as the worst case scenarios started racing through his mind. Did you want to break up? Did you not feel the same? Were you going to leave? Were you-

"And…. I think that–", you gestured vaguely with your hands, trying your best to convey what you were trying to say without really saying it but Steve's mind was running a million miles a second. You could almost see the gears turning in his brain, and perhaps he was starting to understand what you were saying but still wanted you to say it out loud, "I'm y'know– Ready?"

"Ready for?"

"Y'know! Ready for…", you fidgeted with his hair, your eyes not meeting his, "Sex?"

"Oh." Steve let out a breath of relief as his concerns drifted away.

"If u want to, obviously", you quickly added.

"Oh, I want to but are you sure? We don't have to rush, and we won't do anything unless you're sure of it, you know right?"

"Yeah, I– I know "

"So? Are you sure?"

"I think so, yeah", you mumbled in the most unconvincing way, you really weren’t sure if you were being honest. Steve frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"How 'bout you sit on this idea a bit more, ok? And if and when you're sure then and only then will we do it, ok?"

You nodded, shoulders relaxing. "Can I still get a kiss, though?"

"Of course your highness", he murmured with a smile as he leaned his head to kiss you. Your hands went to his hair again and his went to hold your cheeks. He held you so softly as if you'd break if you were to slip out of his hands. His palms helped in tilting your head sideways so he could kiss you deeper. But before you could continue, there was a knock at the door. You both immediately moved away as a reflex.

"I thought you were going to be alone", Steve ran his fingers through his hair to fix his brown locks.

"It's probably El", you reason while fixing your own hair, "Please hide in my room?"

"But–"

"Steve, if she finds out about us she'll tell Hopper, and I wanna tell him myself please?"

"Ok ok, Jesus."

"Thanks", you mutter before landing a quick kiss on his cheek and then jogging to the front door of the cabin. There you are met with the faces of your little sister and her boyfriend.

“Hey guys! You are–”

“We’re late, we know”, Mike huffed out, annoyed.

“Yeah, so late”, you hadn't even noticed that they were late.

“Are you mad at me?”, Eleven looked at you with such puppy-dog eyes that your heart immediately melted– you could never truly be angry at El. Mike however-

“No, El. I’m not mad, don’t worry”, Eleven grins at you and then hugs you tightly– squeezing you mercilessly. Suddenly, the young girl stills. When she pulled away, you noticed that her eyebrows were knitted together– her eyes were roaming around the cabin as if looking for something.

"What's wrong?"

"There's something– I felt something" she spoke with a cautious tone as she walked to the middle of the room– next to the coffee table– looking for any signs of the upside down, demogorgons or demo-dogs. You weren't the only one traumatized, Eleven perhaps more so than you– not that it was a competition. The girl had single-handedly fought interdimensional monsters multiple times already and she wasn't even fourteen yet. The hair on her hand arose in goosebumps, "there's something in here."

Your mind went back to the previous night and the uneasiness you'd felt. You'd chalked it up to your imagination and anxiety– there's no way they were back– but what if they were? Eleven sure as hell was feeling something and you felt it the night before too– it couldn't be a coincidence. Perhaps Steve Harrington was wrong. Perhaps those things are still out there, waiting for the correct moment to attack– ready to tear you apart, the moment you look away.

Eleven walked towards your rooms, Mike following behind her. The short-haired girl's steps stopped right in front of your room. The same room you'd felt that thing last night. The same room in which Steve was hiding. Steve.

Steve.

Uh oh.

"El– it's probably nothing–", you tried to stop her from discovering your scandalous affair but before you could complete your sentence, the superpowered girl used her powers to open the door wide open. Your gaze darted across the room– no Steve Harrington in sight. "See? told you", a sigh of relief left your lips, he had probably gone out the window, "its nothing."

But Eleven's posture was still stiff, she took careful and cautious steps towards your closet, eyeing the thing as if it was your poor hand-me-downs who she fought against the previous years.

"Eleven–"

Mike shushed you. Eleven moved closer to the closet, she braced her legs and held out her arm, ready to use her powers.

"El–"

Eleven yanked her hand and the doors to the closet flew open and from between your clothes emerged none other than Steve Harrington– in all his messy hair glory. "Woah, woah woah woah!--" His back slammed against the wall and he let out a pained grunt.

"Steve?!" Both Eleven and Mike questioned.

"hey", he whimpered.

"Oh god, are you okay?" You walked over to him, helping him stand up, checking for any bruises or signs of injury.

"What is Steve doing here?" Eleven inquired.

"He's here because.. Because I- I called him" he nodded along to you "I was kinda bored" you added

"And why was he hiding?" Mike interrogated with a cocked brow.

"Well—"

"I wasn't hiding—"

"El, you know how Hopper feels about people visiting the cabin", you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt, "he'd get mad."

Eleven knew. She knew how much convincing it took for Hopper to allow Mike to visit her at the cabin– it took him weeks. So she knew how you felt. "Okay", She nodded. She held Mike's arm and started pulling him to her room.

"Okay– uh— El, D'you need anything to eat or something?"

"Eggos!", she said over her shoulder.

"Soda f'me!", mike shouted back.

"Okay."

El closed the door behind her, let go of Mike's arm as she went to wipe the droplet of blood that was on her upper lip.

"So are (y/n) and Steve like, fucking?" Mike asked with a disgusted look.

"F–fucking?" She repeated, confused.

"Um— you know like…", Mike scratched the back of his neck, "are they dating? Like us?"

"I don't know."

"Cuz I'm pretty sure they are."

"Fucking?"

"uh..... Sure", he was going to regret teaching El that word, most definitely.

...

"I think Wheeler might be onto us."

Steve was sitting on the countertop as you loaded the toaster with eggos.

"Of course he is– of all people—"

"I swear that kid hates me."

"I mean— you are his sister's ex so it's a little bit weird"

"Yeah, I guess"

You walked over to the fridge, taking out the whipped cream, chocolate and candies.

"Oh, am I about to witness the triple decker eggo extravaganza?"

"No. The eggo extravaganza is made specifically by Hop for when El is mad at him. This is the eggo spectacular sandwich", you state while setting down the ingredients, "my recipe!" You added with a proud grin.

"Wow, so I guess eggo is to El, what ice cream is to you?", He suggested with a small smile.

"I suppose."

"I wanna know the secret recipe"

"You can't! It's a secret!"

You both let out a laugh. the radio from Eleven's room started blasting "good old-fashioned loverboy" by Queen. Steve then hopped down form the counter, running his hands through his hair. He stood right beside you on the counter, knocking his hips with your— you returned the action. Giggling at your antics. The brunette boy started singing along to the lyrics. He brought your hand up to his shoulder and held the other one with his. His right hand rested on your back as you danced goofily. He started kissing you.

You pull away when the eggos pop up from the toaster. You quickly assemble two eggo spectacular sandwiches and carry the two plates to Eleven's room. "Oh shit— Steve? Grab the soda for Mike please?"

Steve took out a can of coke from the refrigerator, kicking the door close behind him as he followed behind you.

"And here's your eggo sandwiches!", You announced with enthusiasm.

"Here's your coke, man", Steve muttered without an atom of enthusiasm while tossing the can in Mike's general direction— the black haired boy barely managed to catch it. The boy looked at you and then Steve with narrow eyes as he opened the tab, he maintained eye contact while he took the first couple sips of the fizzy drink. Both you and Steve tried your best to avert your gaze.

"Uh– okay I'll be in the TV room if you guys need me", you uttered awkwardly before pushing yourself and Steve out of the room's confinement.

"God, I swear if Wheeler figures out about us, he will tell Will, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. And that kid won't ever shut up about it", Steve said— rubbing his face in frustration. "And if Hopper finds out about this? I am screwed!"

"Please Hop wouldn't do that", you stated, "and I'm thinking of telling him and El today, anyway."

"Wait, seriously?"

You nodded.

"You think I should be there?"

"No no no, I wanna do it with just them around"

"Oh, okay", he fixed his hair— gaze falling on the wall clock, "Oh, shit I gotta go" he pecked your cheek, "or I'll be late…. Again "

"It wasn't my fault last time and it isn't my fault this time either ", you commented behind him as he picked his jacket up, slinging it over his shoulder. He muttered a quick "bye" before he was out the door— off to the mall, to his job.

You let out a deep sigh— reminiscent of your old deadbeat job you had at the gift shop near Melvald's when you lived in the camp next to the Munson's. Although Jim had gotten you a place to live you still needed money, so you'd gotten yourself a job— wrapping gifts and bouquets for people. It would always flutter your heart when people would tell you and ramble a bit about their lives, then you'd spend hours filling in the gaps— wondering how the day turned out for them. You reckoned it was one of the reasons why you were so infatuated by the idea of love. Up until recently it had been such a familiar yet alienating feeling.

But now here you were! Sure, you were unemployed now, but you had a father, a sister and an amazing and beautiful boyfriend and you weren't alone. But the more you thought about it the more you realised that you were— alone, that is.

You still locked yourself in the cabin, telling yourself that it could be still dangerous— and you weren't willing to take a risk.

It wasn't always like this, there was a time when you would actually go out with Steve— sometimes to his house, sometimes to Dustins, or the arcade or anywhere. But ever since you graduated with Steve, you'd made rules for yourself. You won't leave the house anymore, it was too dangerous anyway. You quit your job because it was shitty and you didn't want people seeing you. And although you'd made those decisions, you still wished for a job, missing all the stories you'd make up about the people who visited you.

You spent the next couple hours going through a cardboard box that was filled up with all things Steve and you. Whether it be the graduation hat you wore, or the beer cans from when you got drunk for the first time, or polaroids of you both, flowers he'd bought you, and everything else that tied you two together.

A couple hours passed by, Jim made his presence known with a knock at the front door. You went up to open the door. And as you looked up at Hopper you noticed the bags and dark circles under his eyes— he looked tired and smelled of beer and cigarettes. "Hey, kid", he muttered through his bushy moustache. You let out a sigh and went in to get him some water.

"El back yet?"

"Yeah", you said giving him the glass, "in her room with Mike", you pointed towards the door with your thumb.

"Wheeler's here?"

"When's he not?" You rolled your eyes. The man handed you the glass back and took off his shoes and went into his room. He emerged out within a few minutes.

"Movie night?", He offered

"But El is with Mike."

"What about just us two, huh? Haven't done that in a while"

You agreed and before you knew it you were Cozied up in a blanket while hopper was on the lazyboy. You both watched a random movie while sharing chips, candy and soda. After about thirty minutes into the movie, you noticed Hopper was distracted, the muffled music from Eleven's room was in fact breaking your immersion too. He shoved a handful of chips in his mouth while downing some beer from the can. You turned your gaze back to the TV screen.

"Hey!" Your eyes averted from the screen to him who was now looking at Eleven's now shut door with seething anger. He got up quickly, shouting, "HEY! Three inch minimum! Leave the door open three inches!" He went for the locked door handle, "El? Open this door", he said with gritted teeth, "Open. This. Door—"

The door opened but El and Mike weren't kissing, they were just reading magazines. "What's wrong?", You tried to hold in your laughter at noticing that Mike was holding his upside down. Hopper clearly noticed too.

"Thank God, you don't have a partner," he said pointing at you, "I can't imagine another stupid, undeserving boy hogging up my child." You bit your tongue at his anger. There went your chance to talk about Steve.

It was 12:30 a.m. and you really didn't feel like sleeping. You'd been feeling the headache, again. You went to the kitchen, heading straight to the fridge— taking out the peanut butter jar and pineapple can. Right when you put a spoonful of the mixture in your mouth the light of the kitchen switched on.

"Why in the hell are you up so late?", Hopper interrogated.

You let out a loud yelp, cringing at the sound— the volume sure to wake up neighbours, if you had any. Through the three inch opening of Eleven's room's door, you could see that the light also turned on.

"What are you doing?", The man asked, tucking his gun in his waist belt— surely he had thought of your midnight snack sounds for an interdimensional monster's sounds.

“Nofhing”, you said through a mouthful.

Hopper had known you since you were fourteen, he knew it might've had something to do with a nightmare. “Did you have another one?”

You stopped mid chew, avoiding his eyes– a tell.

“Same thing?”

Before you could say anything, the door to Eleven's room creaked and the short haired girl slowly stepped out, said hair sticking up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Everything okay?", She asked.

"Yeah, El shorry.", You apologised.

"Oh, it's okay," she said with a soft smile.

"It's not okay, what are you doing up so late?"

"I was Exshpanding my taste horizons", you stated, looking at Hopper like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"With peanut butter and pineapple at 12 in the morning?" He asked with narrow eyes.

"Please don't question my methods, Hop. I was hungry and wanted to try something new"

“How's that working out for you?”

“I... haven't decided yet.”

"I want to expand my taste ho- horizons too", Eleven imparted, struggling with the pronunciation of the new word.

"See? El gets me."

"Sure, whatever." Jim waved his hand off, "expand whatever, but you both better be asleep within thirty minutes", he ordered before going back to his room.

"Let's go to my room."

You and Eleven were lying on your bed now, covered in blankets. Much to your dismay Eleven wasn't a big fan of the food combo so you took her remaining portion too. Eleven looked around the room, eyes bouncing from one thing to another. It had dawned on you now that eleven had never been in your room for this long.

She got up from her place and picked up a brown teddy bear with a blue ribbon around its neck that was kept on top of your room's table.

"Oh, you found Mr. Arnold Bearenbearer"

"Arnold, w- what?"

"You can just call him Mr. Arnold", you laughed at the stupid name Hopper had given to the soft toy, "Hop gave it to me the first time I was here. I didn't have a place to live, so he took me in for a few"

"I remember being so scared that the bad men were going to get me or worse", you smile soon faded at the thought of the people from the lab and the amount of fear you had felt. "I'm sure Hop noticed and he gave me Mr. Arnold— I think he belonged to Sarah"

"Sarah? Hopper's daughter?"

You nodded with a hum.

"I don't know what it is about Mr. Arnold. It's like he has powers— just holding him makes you feel so safe"

"Mr. Arnold has powers? Like us?"

"Just like us— he uses his powers to help others who get a little scared or lonely, with a hug!"

Eleven gave the soft toy a tight squeezing hug and she visibly relaxed.

"He smells like you and Steve", she whispered into the fur of the bear.

"Yeah, well, don't tell this to anyone but Steve gets scared sometimes too."

"He does?", She asked with wide eyes as if what you'd told her was the most unbelievable thing.

You hummed "Everybody gets scared every once in a while, it's completely okay too." An image of Steve hugging Mr. Arnold tightly like a scared little boy flashed in your head. How he'd once visited you in the middle of the night with red eyes and disheveled hair-- saying he couldn't sleep because of the nightmares. You'd told Steve about Mr. Arnold and just an hour later he was asleep-- free from all the bad dreams.

Eleven came underneath the blanket with Mr. Arnold snug in her arms. She lied down on her side while you lied on your back. after a moment of settling in, she called out your name softly.

"Yeah?", You turned your head slightly towards her.

"Are…. Are you and Steve fucking?", She asked with the most earnest look.

"... what– what did you say?"

"Fucking?"

"D'you know what that word means?"

"Kissing and dating?"

"Who told you that?" trying your best to not laugh, El was a sensitive girl, you didn't want her to think that you were making fun of her– you could never.

"Mike told me."

"Of course he did", you mumbled to yourself before turning on your side— towards her. "Why don't you ask Mike what that means again tomorrow, huh?"

"Okay", she paused as if making a mental note to do so, "So are you and Steve….."

"Yeah, yeah we are."

"You're like me and Mike?"

"Yep."

"why did you not tell me or Hopper?"

"Steve and I have been together for like a week and I was planning on telling both you and Hopper today— but I don't think now's the right time y'know?"

"You will not tell Hop?"

"I will, I just need some time, okay? you know now, I'll tell hopper soon too, I promise", you really were tired of sneaking around, you wanted Hopper to know. tomorrow- you promise yourself. "Promise you won't tell Hopper till then?" its not like you didn't trust her but she isn't the best at hiding something.

"But friends don't lie."

"I'm not lying El, its keeping a secret. I'll tell him but I want to be the one who tells him. you know how I don't tell Hopper if you sneak off with mike without telling him or something like that–"

"So I don't tell Hopper?"

"Yeah", you looked at her with anticipation.

she looked at you, mulling over it before nodding and saying a whispered, "Okay."

silence settles over the two of you. you were almost asleep when eleven's voice saying your name brought you back to consciousness. "Does Steve kiss you?"

you cleared your throat, heat rushed to your cheeks, "uh, yeah, that's what boyfriends do."

"D'you like it?"

"Sure do."

"I like it too, when mike does it."

You hummed, you weren't really sure how to respond. Both you and Eleven fell silent for a bit. your eyes started drooping again.

you heard the girl say your name again, you hummed, "Yeah, El?"

"I think Steve's nice."

"You think so?", You smiled. she nodded in response, a smile of her own.

"... Do you think Mike is nice?"

"I don't really know him that well, but he seems nice, he really does care for you." you really didn't know how to feel about the boy. he seemed to really care about your sister, but you didn't know why, you didn't trust him. not in a he's-gonna-betray-my-sister kind of way but rather, i-don't-know-if he's-right-for her. but maybe you just needed to give both of them a break, they weren't even fourteen, for god's sake.

Your name was called again, you hummed.

“You're awake because you had a nightmare again, aren't you?” the sleepy smile on your face slipped, you looked at her. she looked at you expectantly.

friends don't lie, “...yeah", your voice came as all but a whisper, before the girl could say anything you quickly added, gaze back at the ceiling, "but i don't feel like talking about it right now.”

"Okay", she said, suppressing a yawn.

"Let's get you to bed okay?"

"Here", she wrapped an arm around your torso and mumbled into the pillow, "I wanna sleep here."

"Okay, 'night kiddo", You put your palm behind her head, playing with her hair, scratching her scalp lightly.

She let out a sleepy hum before breathing out a "'night" herself. You continued carding your fingers through her slightly tangled hair as her soft snores floated in the air— before drifting off to sleep yourself.

Hopper wanted to be resting but he also wanted his two kids to be fast asleep at a reasonable time. he was trying his hardest to be the best father he could be— emphasis on trying. So, thirty minutes after he'd found you in the kitchen, shoving pineapple covered in peanut butter in your mouth, he went to check both your rooms to make sure you both were back in bed.

When he saw Eleven's room empty, he felt the beginnings of anger rising in his head. He then looked through the three inch gap of your room's door and saw both you and Eleven cuddled up and sound asleep. Any amount of anger or worry simmered down as he noticed your calm and serene faces— both your gentle snores muffled by the quilt.

He felt a smile creeping onto his features. He then turned back towards his room— footsteps as quiet as possible and went back to slumber himself.

...

A/n: i hope the time jumps weren't too confusing. if they were let me know! i'll try to explain them <3

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