#AND THEY’D ONLY EVEN KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cleoluvrr · 6 months

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strawberry shortcake (rafe cameron x reader)

got sent home to change 'cause my skirt is too short.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, non!con, dub!con, spanking, use of belt, victim-blaming, manipulation, degradation, explicit language, depiction of explicit sexual acts

word count: 9.1k

masterlist

you and rafe were…complicated. you’d known him just as long as you’ve known his sister, and yet, you’d never had a particularly great relationship.

your father worked closely with the cameron family. he and ward met each other in college, but went their separate ways after graduation. ward returned to the outer banks after a few years of living on the mainland, slowly making a name for himself as a real estate developer. your own parents moved back to charlotte after graduating, meeting at school and getting married in their hometown. raised in the city, all of your family was there, and all your friends were there.

one fated day, your parents decided that your entire family was going to pack up and move to the outer banks. you were eight years old at the time, so of course it felt like your entire life was falling apart. everything you ever knew was going to be miles and miles away just because your parents said so.

it felt so sudden, so unexpected. as far as you were aware, there was no one you knew in the outer banks. your family had a beach house there that you would visit every other summer, but that was all. to you, they might as well have said that you were moving to a deserted island with zero human interaction.

the moment you arrived the summer before you started third grade, it was a complete culture shock. you were used to living in the city; busy streets, skyscrapers that kissed the clouds and lit up with the colors of the rainbow, and so many people that you’d never see them more than twice. kildare was the complete opposite. you could drive across the entire town and back in under two hours and the tallest building in town was a church. everybody knew everybody, and every person had their place.

you only found that after your parents were pulled over by a police officer while driving around figure-eight. it wasn’t too often people that looked like you drove around the “nice” side of town in a shiny, new car. not that they’d never seen it, but they knew all the people that did, and nobody in your family was one of them. you couldn’t count the number of times someone had asked if you were lost or ‘supposed to be here’ when playing around your front yard, taking a walk, or existing in any public place on figure-eight.

your parents allowed you a week to adjust before they threw you into the merciless waters of small town social politics.

the first time you were properly introduced to the cameron family was during sunday service. you didn’t grow up going to church despite being from the bible belt, mostly because big city life didn’t revolve around it as much as it did in kildare. your parents forced you out of bed early in the morning to get ready, your mother all but stuffing you into the best sunday dress you owned. like any eight-year-old, you complained about it. you hated blue, but your parents insisted on all of your outfits being color-coordinated. the mary janes and frilly socks made you feel like a little kid, but your mom wouldn’t budge on it.

begrudgingly, you sat through an hour long sermon in a church filled with flamboyantly dressed rich people. and then you sat through another hour of brunch with the camerons and their friends, even more annoyed than you were sitting through service in the hot, old chapel.

ward and your father had kept in contact over the years, and it was a couple years before the move that the two of them became business partners. your dad became the cameron family’s lawyer, and it was easier to actually be in the same place as them rather than hundreds of miles away. your mother didn’t mind the move; in fact, she was excited. she worked as an oncologist back home, and the lack of them on the island meant there was great demand for her work.

it was there where you met sarah cameron, the girl that became your friend at first sight. she was younger than you, but at that age it really made no difference. the little blonde girl was excited to meet someone new and declared that you two would be ‘best friends forever just like your dads. though it took some warming up on your part, ever since that day, the pair of you have been attached by the hip.

rafe, however, not so much.

“hey, sarah?” you called out to the girl standing across from you, her surprised eyes wide as they snapped towards yours after being pulled out of the conversation with her boyfriend.

“yeah?”

“could you tell your brother to fuck off?” a smile lit up your face as the question slipped from your gloss-covered lips. “please?”

you had come over to sarah’s house a few hours ago, the girl inviting you to attend a large party that her parents planned every summer for the fourth of july. at first, you weren’t too keen on coming, but the two of you hadn’t spent much time together this summer and you felt too guilty to turn her down. this was the summer before you left her for nine months to attend college, and even though you didn’t want to come, you did it to make her happy.

the moment you stepped foot onto the property, rafe buzzed around your ear like a common house fly with comment after comment on your appearance.

“what’s the matter, princess?” rafe speaks up from his spot just a few feet away. his head quirks to the side, a look of faux-concern covering his face. “stick up your ass a little too big today?”

topper and kelce chuckle at the comment, attempting to hide the sound by clearing their throats when they catch the dangerous cut of your eyes. your gaze meet rafe’s again and you watch as he raises the whiteclaw to his lips, the white can covering the smirk on his face as he takes a sip.

when you first met rafe, he was nice enough–very cordial. the boy was only older than you by a a year, but he acted as if the difference was so significant that he couldn’t be seen around you. he wasn’t necessarily shy, but every boy that age was concerned with catching cooties. it was impossible to keep his distance, though, especially since your dads worked together and you were constantly over their house. you and rafe maintained a somewhat friendly relationship with each other for years–never getting as close as you and sarah, but it was amiable.

that all changed when you got to the eighth grade.

the older boy had started his first year of high school, while you and sarah were still in middle school together.

the difference in maturity was beginning to have an affect on your relationship with both of them. you were turning fourteen and sarah was turning twelve; it felt like you were in totally different worlds. she was starting to become more of a little sister to you than a friend, but you loved her no less than before.

rafe was only fifteen, but he was in high school now. he hung out with guys older than him, and that meant doing whatever to impress them. he had completely brushed you off as a ‘little girl,’ and acted like you were a burden to have around if you were at tannyhill while his friends were there.

it hurt you at first. you knew the two of you weren’t close, but to be completely disregarded for people he barely knew didn’t make you feel great about yourself.

you were naive to believe it’d be any other way.

when it was your turn to enter high school, you felt alone. sarah was still in middle school, and rafe treated you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. it was like you had to start all over now that you didn’t have either of them to cling onto. it wasn’t hard for you to make friends, but you still felt alone without your best friend–and betrayed by her brother.

“rafe, stop! you’re being an ass.” sarah shoves her brother, eyebrows furrowed as she scolds her older silbing.

“what? it’s a joke, chill out.” rafe barely stumbles from the shove. his eyes remain on you, not even sparing his sister more than a second of a glance. “she can take a joke. right, y/n?”

“of course i can take a joke, rafe!” you tilted your head in the same manner as he did just a few moments ago. “remember that time you asked me out senior year? that was really funny.”

a smile grazed your lips softly as you watched him freeze in place for the briefest second before regaining composure. both his friends and sarah snorted at the quip, catching onto the implication. nobody noticed the look shared between you and the oldest cameron, nor the rise in tension.

it was the summer before your junior year and rafe’s senior–two weeks before midsummers, to be exact. rafe hadn’t let up on what was the borderline bullying he’d been subjecting you to since you started high school; in fact, it had only increased that summer. you were at the cameron’s house almost everyday with sarah, and her brother didn’t spare you a moment of peace when you happened to come across each other on the property–or off of it.

rafe spotted you alone by the dock, tossing rocks into the water as you stared into the dimming light of the july sky. you knew it was him approaching because his feet were heavy against the twigs lining the ground, not light and nimble like sarah’s.

“y/n,” he called out from behind you, towering presence warm at your back. he sounded nervous, which struck you as odd. when he spoke to you, his voice carried the weight of condescension or irritation–never the champagne bubbles of anxiety. it was obvious he was trying to disguise it, but you knew him too well for it to work. “can we talk?”

you responded with a disinterested hum, throwing the last rock into the water before turning to face him. you expected him to say something stupid, the sole purpose of him catching you there alone to bother you until you went back to your own house.

what you were not expecting, however, was for him to confess his feelings–feelings for you. you could hear your ears ringing when he asked if you would go with him to midsummers, brain sparking up with disbelief and agitation at the sound of the words leaving his mouth.

there were no second thoughts when he was met with firm rejection.

you weren’t sure why it caught him by surprise considering he’d been treating you like shit for three years, but he acted as if you shot him at point blank. though you never told anyone, you had a crush on him at one point as well. it began to feel more like hopeless pining after he began to treat you like an incessant fruit fly, which is why you got over it–for the most part, at least.

that’s when the mistreatment from him became a feud on both ends. you felt justified in your feelings towards him, and rafe having the audacity to be mad at you for turning him down only fueled the fire.

the oldest cameron sibling had his own issues, ones that made him quick to anger towards everything and everyone for no reason, especially you.

“you think you’re funny, huh?” the blonde looks displeased by his friends’ reactions, jaw clenching in annoyance. he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it.

“as if you know what that is.” you raised your brows at him, a smile still covering your face. you reached out a hand towards him, palm landing gently on his broad chest in a false gesture of comfort. “its okay, rafey, not everyone is made for being funny. stick to being useless, okay? you’re amazing at that!”

shoving past the blonde, you walked in the direction of the house after telling sarah you were going to sit inside for a moment to hide from the heat. the coastal carolina humidity was taking a toll on you, and rafe’s presence was only adding to the irritation.

you took your time walking around the house, the massive interior surrounding you on all sides. the sound of your shoes softly tapping against the ground was the only sound filling the air, the commotion of the party outside left behind the further you ventured. your feet carried you up the grand staircase gracefully, hips swaying with each step until you reached the top.

the mansion was not unfamiliar. you and sarah had run these halls together countless times over the years, no room left unexplored by the two of you–including rafe’s.

out of curiosity, your eyes drifted in the direction of the boy’s bedroom. the door had been left wide open for anyone to walk in, and there was an invisible force pushing you to enter. it’s been years since you’ve explored it, the last time resulting in being caught by its inhabitant. memories of you and sarah snooping around his drawers flashed through your mind, rafe coming in and cursing the two of you with colorful words you’d never heard in-person before.

this time, rafe wasn’t here to stop you. he was far too occupied outside with his friends to interrupt your impulsive decision to explore his room once more.

you shuffled towards the open door of his room, head peeking into the empty space before stepping inside. the room hadn’t changed much from the last time you saw it; it was still reminiscent of a teenage boy, just much cleaner. your feet softly padded across the floor to the window on the opposite side, staring out of the window at the crowd below.

the music was just barely audible through the thick glass, the little ants of people wandering around with cups in hand as they interacted with each other. eyes scanning the crowd, your brows furrowed together in confusion. kelce, sarah, and topper were right where you left them, but rafe was nowhere to be found the longer you searched over the attendees.

“maybe he left…” you said to yourself, shoulders raising in a weak shrugging motion.

“who?”

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the voice appearing in the background so suddenly, a scream bubbling in your throat before you turned around to meet it’s owner. the sight of rafe cameron standing in the doorway barely did anything to calm your nerves, his stern face and crossed arms only making you anxious.

“y’know–i could’ve sworn i told you to stay out of my room?” his blue eyes bored into yours, gaze unrelenting and intense as they awaited an answer for your presence.

“what are you doing in here?” you were tempted to pinch yourself as the question slipped from between your lips.

“this is my room,” he said pointedly. “what are you doing in here?”

you shrugged again, the nervousness that filled you moments ago dissipating the longer you faced him. the worst thing he could do is tell you to get out, there was no reason to feel anxious about his appearance. you pushed yourself off the window frame you were resting against to walk towards the door, ready to make your exit now that you’ve been caught.

“not going through your shit, if that’s what you’re worried about. i was bored–now i’m leaving.” you were at the halfway point of his room, eyes rolling nonchalantly as you brushed him off. “what are you doing?”

rafe entered the room fully, a look of mischief shining brightly from behind his eyes as your own flickered to the door that shut behind him with a soft ‘thud’. you could feel your brows pinch together ever so slightly at the sight before you met his face again.

you didn’t flinch when he began to approach you with slow, rhythmic steps. his legs were long and he could have easily made it to you in just a few but he deliberately took his time walking in your direction, each soft noise of his shoe hitting the ground spaced a second apart.

“what for? not like you have anywhere to be,” his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his shorts and his head tilted to the side in a feigned curiosity that was clearly heard through his voice. “actually–i think we need to talk…”

the blonde stopped barely a foot in front of you. he wasn’t quite invading your personal space, just pushing against the boundary lines of it. your eye twitches involuntarily, but you say nothing.

pushing the boundaries was something rafe had been doing for a while. mentally and physically. it was part of what further pulled the string of tension between you two.

maybe it’s because he’s a guy, but there wasn’t a day you could go seeing rafe without him making comments on your body or touching you without permission. your chest, your backside, your lips, your eyes–there was nothing spared from his overtly sexual thoughts. you weren’t sure if he was doing it solely to piss you off or make you uncomfortable, but being either one did nothing to discourage him.

in fact, it only served as motivation for him to continue.

it had been more times than you could count that rafe had groped you and claimed that his hand slipped–that you were overreacting. sometimes he wouldn’t even deny it; he’d blame you for wearing a too-short skirt or a top so small that ‘you had to have been wanting the attention or you wouldn’t have left the house like that.’ he had a habit of standing uncomfortably close to you, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back or the hair on his arms tickling your own.

you just brushed it off as him being obnoxious, slapping away wandering hands and giving quick-witted responses to the suggestive remarks. guys his age were assholes and because of how long you’d known him, you never let it bother you too much. or at least, you refused to let him know that it bothered you.

“i don’t think so, rafe.“ you eyed him suspiciously. “what could we possibly have to talk about?” your arms raised to fold across your chest, fingertips cold from the air-conditioning as they rested against your bare skin.

if it weren’t so hot and sticky outside you would have worn pants, but the frilly, pink skirt adorning your bottom half was far too tempting to pass up in this weather. you could feel the goosebumps rising over your entire body from the coolness of the house.

rafe just stared for a moment. you could see the synapses firing behind the blue of his irises, and the sight unsettled you. the feeling of his eyes raking over your frame did nothing to shake the discomfort either.

“your attention-seeking behavior. your disrespectful attitude.” his gaze flittered back up to meet yours and you could make out the ghost of a smirk wash over his features. “it's becoming a problem, don’t ya’ think?”

“what?” that was not on the list of things you were expecting him to say. you couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped your lips in a breath. “what the fuck are you talking about right now?”

“what am i talking about?” his dark blonde brows come together in an expression of concern–one you were sure he was faking.

rafe’s tanned arm reached out towards you, long fingers grabbing a braid from your head and twirling the end around the digits. not abnormal behavior, but you still squinted at him anyway.

“you must be the stupid one if you don’t know what i’m talking about.”

a scoff left your mouth and your hand lifted to smack his away from your hair. your eyes nearly strained out of their sockets from the amount of restraint it took not to roll them, lids blinking away the urge that fought against them.

“bye, rafe.” your path was blocked when you tried to move around him, the tall man following your step before you could even finish making it. “move!”

he caught the hand raised to push him out of the way with ease, the strength in his grip restrained but still felt as it surrounded your wrist. every attempt to take it back into your possession failed, your opponent unrelenting.

startled, a gasp left your mouth when you were pulled forward roughly, rafe’s body pressed tightly against yours as he brought his free hand to rest on your lower back. the ghost on his face was now living, a grin widespread over his lips that showed off the whites of his teeth as he stared down at you.

“stop touching me, you’re being a creep.” you didn’t raise your voice at him, but you were firm in your demand.

“oh, please,” he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were the one acting out of line. “i think you want me to touch you.”

the hand that rested on your back fell even lower, the entirety of his hand capturing your ass in its grasp. you inhale sharply, the roughness of his fingers squeezing down causing you to jerk forward in an attempt to escape. you were met with rafe’s warm chest trapping you between him and the hand gripping your backside through the fabric of the skirt keeping it covered.

“rafe!” you said loudly. “what the fuck is your problem?”

it’s not like he hadn’t touched you there before; he’d done it plenty. but those were only light brushes in passing or pinching you when you weren’t paying attention. things that he could pretend never happened, things that you could brush off as him being annoying.

this was not that.

“you walk around town in these itty, bitty skirts,” rafe’s smile was gone now, the mischief behind his eyes remained but it was mixed with something else–something you didn’t feel too keen about. “like you own the place–walking around my house like it’s yours. always acting like you’re better than everyone. like–like you’re above all of us. do you think you’re better than everyone, y/n?”

you shook your head at him, doing the best job you could muster at remaining calm despite the alarm bells ringing in your head. the free hand you were using to push his hand away from your ass was useless; he wasn’t budging. however, even with the little voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, you couldn’t help but to give a smart-assed reply.

“i don’t think i’m above everyone, rafe,” the corner of your lips twitched as you fought back the smile that wanted to appear. “just you.”

he chuckled at that, but not because he found it funny. it was obvious by the way his face darkened, which is what queued you into thinking that you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

relief filled you when he released the clothed flesh of your behind from his vices, but only momentarily. your feet stumbled over each other clumsily as rafe walked forward with purpose, forcing you backwards until your the crease of your knees hit the bed. you remained standing, but if he were to push you again you’d certainly lose your balance.

the oldest cameron sibling was much…larger than you remembered. you saw him practically every day, but you couldn’t recall his biceps ever being this big as your hands held onto them to stabilize yourself. you’ve never felt intimidated when standing near him, but as you craned your neck upward, all you could feel was the fear bubbling in your stomach. faced with his towering height, he could easily overpower you if that’s what he wanted to do–and you had a feeling he did.

a chill ran down your spine.

“you come over here every day wearing practically nothing, swinging that pretty ass in my face like a fucking tease, and then treat me like you don’t know who you’re talking to.” he shakes his head in faux-disappointment, the sound of his tongue tutting against his teeth filling your ears. “i told you to stop doing it, but you refuse. if you weren’t begging for attention, you wouldn’t act like that.”

“are you being serious right now?” you were in complete disbelief. the fear in your stomach remained, but a pang of vexation was thrown into the mix. “the last thing i want is your attention, rafe. i already turned you down once–stop being weird about it. just ‘cause you can’t keep your dick in your pants doesn’t make me the problem.”

the tall blond’s eye twitched, lips raising like hackles as he all but snarled at you.

both of his hands dropped suddenly, giving you zero time to react as he gripped the bottom of your skirt in his hands and yanked it upwards. a sound of surprise rolled out of your mouth and rafe took advantage of your shock to spin you around and push you face down onto the bed. your body barely bounced once before rafe was seated on the mattress next to you, strong arms reaching over to grab your legs and throw them over his lap haphazardly as he pinned your arms behind your back.

you felt him lean his upper body against you and apply force, preventing you from lifting yourself up off the bed and leaving you completely at his mercy.

“rafe!” you scolded as he hiked up your skirt even higher and exposed you further. his position under you left you unable to lie flat, back arched uncomfortably with your pelvis resting on his muscled thighs. panic was beginning to fill you. “rafe, stop! what are you doing?”

he doesn’t respond, a bump silence filling the tense air. you could feel the heat of his scrutinizing gaze, unable to control your squirming as the warmth of his hand palmed at your barely covered skin. he massaged at the soft flesh, squeezing it between his fingers like he was being entertained by putty.

“you look so pretty in pink.”

a yelp escaped your lips when he brought his hand down against your ass with a resounding smack. he repeated the action on the other side with the same amount of force before half-assing an attempt at massaging away the sting. you hissed from the pain, his rough groping doing nothing to ease the feeling.

he hums to himself, hand pulling away to deliver another blow. you cursed at him, leg kicking up out of anger but able to do any real damage.

“y’know,” rafe says and you couldn’t help but huff in anger. “you brought this on yourself. we wouldn’t have to do this if you were just a nice girl.” you could hear the disappointment dripping from his voice and it enraged you.

“maybe i’m not nice to you because you’re a fucking dick.” he smacked you again. “fuck! stop, rafe!”

“and you’re a loud-mouthed bitch who needs to learn that actions have consequences.”

if you thought he wasn’t holding back before, you were proven wrong.

he spared you no second to recover from the barrage of smacks that he bestowed upon you. each time his hand raised, it reconnected just as mercilessly as it did before. all you could hear was the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bedroom, mind completely encompassed by the fiery heat produced by his palm against your ass.

you wanted to scream out, cry for help from anyone that happened to be wandering the halls of the old manor. you didn’t though. not because you couldn’t, but because you were scared. scared that if someone did come to help, they would see you bent over rafe’s lap like a misbehaving child. scared that the someone who came to your rescue would be sarah–or ward.

the humiliation would kill you.

instead, you settled on continuing with your demands to stop. you swore at him, threatened him, kicked at him as hard as you could. you tried everything to get him to let up, but he refused. the sound of your voice was nearly drowned out by the deafening sound of your backside being brutalized.

you were sure if someone were to walk past, it could be heard on the other side.

“i’m going to fucking kill you, rafe!” you gritted out through teeth clenched so tight that you could pop a blood vessel. “you’re disgusting!”

the blue-eyed man tutted from above you, abruptly pausing his assault. unexpectedly he pushed your legs off his lap and rose to his feet, leaving you in a heap on the bed. you almost sung out a praise to whatever angel had been keeping an eye on you, finally taking pity on your bruised behind. it felt like you were on fire; face hot, skin sticky with the sweat from putting up a fight, and the site of rafe’s abuse burning from the phantom of his hand.

your eyes snapped in rafe’s direction, pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of metal. he’d taken off his expensive leather belt when he stood up, the accessory folded in half between his hands as his hardened, amused eyes stared down at you. your eyes flitted between his face and the belt in his hand nervously, throat bobbing as you swallowed dryly.

he predicted your movement before you could even make it, moving so fast that you thought he was transported to you. rafe caught your legs as you attempted to crawl away and pulled you back over the edge. your feet landed on the floor but your top half remained pinned to the mattress, a strong hand keeping you in place as you struggled against it.

“change of plans,” he whispered against your ear. you were sure he felt you shiver against his hold from the breath on your skin. “i tried being gentle–well, as gentle as i can be with you. clearly, that’s not teaching you anything. “

“haven’t you heard? corporal punishment is outdated and ineffective.” it was in your nature to argue with him, even when he had you pinned beneath him like a wolf would a rabbit. “i’m not learning anything except for how much of a pervert you really are–not that i didn't already know.”

rafe chuckled at this, very darkly. he pulled away from your ear and positioned himself behind you, the heat of his presence radiating in a way that was almost suffocating. the silence was so loud that you could barely hear the sound of the party outside, blood rushing past your ears thunderously.

you braced yourself, unsure of what his next move would be. however, he made no moves. the blond just stood there behind you ominously, keeping your hands pinned to your back as he watched you noiselessly. the temptation to look behind you was overwhelming, and it was then when he decided to act.

the belt made fierce contact with your sensitive skin the moment your head twitched, the stillness between you no longer.

it took all of your strength to contain the scream that itched to leave your throat, a pained groan coming out from your gritted teeth. this was worse than his bare hand by miles, the fury of the leather leaving you thrashing with a single lick.

“i think,” he landed another strike to your ass after he spoke. “corporal punishment is very effective. it just takes a little…more to break through girls like you. it’s okay, though, you’ll learn.”

the belt comes down again and you couldn’t hold back the scream this time.

he gave no time for you to recover, the viciousness of each swat intensifying each time it landed. it was loud, much louder than his hands and in your foggy mind you worried endlessly about what would happen if someone else were to hear.

you don’t move when he lets go of your wrists, body paralyzed from pain and fear. rafe takes hold of your barely there underwear and yanks them down, the fabric pooling around your ankles leaving you fully exposed and hot with embarrassment. he takes no time to look between your legs and quickly returns to delivering your punishment.

the comforter beneath you fell victim to the deathly grip of your now free hands, talon-like fingers digging into the fabric as you used it to brace yourself. tears ran down your face uncontrollably and every muscle in your body was tense from the torment.

“rafe, please!” you cried out, hardly able to form a complete sentence. “ow! stop, stop! i’m sorry!”

you weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn’t take the torture for much longer. you’d fix your mouth to say whatever it takes to get him off of you.

“how many times have i told you to stop dressing like a slut? huh?” you responded with a pained screech. he paired the question with another lashing, your cries for mercy doing nothing to garner any of his sympathy. “and yet, you still do what you please. so i’m going to do what ever the fuck pleases me.”

it felt like you’d been here for an eternity, but it’d probably been maybe twenty minutes. twenty minutes since you walked into his room like a dumbass instead of going to sarah’s like you planned on doing in the first place. twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and nobody would come looking for you any time soon.

a sob racked through your body at that. your hands reached back to grab at his weapon of choice in a desperate effort to stop the battery, and in response rafe put them right back where they were against your spine.

“you want everyone to see your ass so badly,” the leather slashed through the air and landed on you with a crack. “so i’m gonna give you something to show ‘em.”

you had been reduced to a pile of tears and tender flesh. rafe’s hands holding you down against the bed were hardly necessary; the both of you knew that you didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore. all you could do was scream, cry, and beg for him to end the attack against your poor ass. the welts on your flesh were beginning to form, you could feel it.

“stop crying.” he says from above you. you could practically hear the sound of his eyes rolling, but he paused the lashings anyways. “begging me to stop but–” he cuts himself off, his silence falling loudly on your ears.

the sound of the belt falling to the floor as he threw it into a random corner didn’t even register to you, the metal buckle thumping against the wall. all you could focus on was the hand between your quivering legs, and the throbbing sensation that you hadn’t noticed before. rafe’s fingers gliding against the wetness of your core made you flinch from being unprepared for his touch.

“you're leaking all over yourself…” shame washed over you in a tsunami-like wave, the feeling amplified by the wet sounds coming from where rafe’s hand meets the junction of your thighs. “i don’t think you want me to stop.”

“no!” you shouted. rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he watched you shake your head desperately against the mattress. “no more! please, i don’t want it...”

he hummed in response, fingers still toying with your dripping heat. they were just barely brushing over your clit, the bud swollen with need and twitching with every ghost-like touch. if you could scream, you would, but all you had the energy to do was whimper pathetically as he held you in place.

“hm, alright.” rafe’s agreeance made you release a shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. “i know what you do want, though.”

you felt his thick fingers grazing your entrance; just the pads of them. he was being a tease, letting you soak in the humiliation of being so adamant on him leaving you alone but having your body betray you.

he leaned down once again, the softness of his lips tickling the shell of your ear. you swallowed dryly as you struggled to focus on anything other than his torturous fingers sitting idly between your puffy lips.

“you want me to fuck this little hole open with my fingers,” he hummed again, the vibration of it sending a shockwave through your body. “wanna drool all over my hand with that messy cunt.”

you shook your head, squirming against his hold once again in an attempt to escape his curious fingers.

“no?” he asked and you shook your head again. “i don’t believe that.”

he only removed his hand from your long enough to flip you onto your back, barely exerting any strength to do so. instead of holding you down by your wrists, you were planted against the mattress by your neck with a firm hand. your own fingers moved to wrap around his arm while his returned to the heat building between your legs.

you gasped at the feeling of a long, thick digit pushing against the tight resistance as it coaxed you open enough to slip inside. with him between your legs you couldn’t close them–all you could do was lie there pathetically as he did what he wanted.

“aw, you feel that?” he cooed at you, eyes flickering up at your face briefly before dropping back to his hand. “it slipped right in…i think you can take two, don’t you?”

a whine slipped out at the feeling of a second finger slipping past the barrier of your hole to join the first one. his fingers were way bigger than yours, fitting inside of you more snugly than you were used to. he pulled them out at a snail’s pace, purposefully dragging against your spasming walls before pushing them right back in.

“yeah, you take it real good.” he grinned smugly, clearly enjoying the juxtaposition of the pained look on your face and the way you desperately latched onto his two fingers. “don’t want it, but your pussy’s sucking me in…why’s that?”

you couldn’t answer–not when you were panting like a bitch in heat, trying and failing at catching your breath as rafe stole it away from you. your arousal leaked out over his fingers and there was nothing you could do to stop it. his fingers felt too good, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

he continued with the bare minimum for what felt like forever, probably waiting on you to give in and beg him to fuck you. unfortunately for him, you would never do that. your will was much too strong to do something as desperate as that, and you were basking in enough humiliation as is; you’d never give up the single sliver of pride you had left.

it was rafe who broke first. he said nothing as the speed of his fingers increased, eyes focused on every scrunch of your nose and the whines that forced their way past your bitten lips. the heel of his hand kept making contact with your clit and it made you want to start crying again.

“such a pretty girl,” his eyes raked over your clothed body in satisfaction. something about you having to walk around in the same clothes that he turned you out in got him off, while it made you think about throwing them into a bonfire or burying them in the deepest part of your closet. “getting so wet and needy from me welting up her ass. i think you’re the pervert here, not me.”

“uh-uhn.” you protested the accusation immediately, reaching down the push rafe’s hand away weakly. he looked amused.

“you’re not?” the blonde moved back to stare at your cunt grooling all over his hand, fingers fucking the mess back inside over and over. “why are you so wet then?”

you didn’t have an answer to that. his fingers pulled out of you completely, using the wetness as more lubrication to spread over your swollen clit. the bucket of sparks in your stomach had long turned into a bubbling cauldron, and the attention to the needy button did nothing but make it burn hotter.

his fingers dipped back inside with much ease this time and you nearly died from the embarrassment. your brain was foggy yet defiant, but your body worked against you by welcoming everything rafe had to offer.

“no normal girl would get wet from shit like that. screaming and crying, beggin’ me to stop–but look,” rafe shook his head at you, eyes hot as he watched your frame twitch beneath his hands. “you’re squeezing down on my fingers like you want ‘em in there forever.“

he was right. you were screaming, you were crying, you were begging him to stop. now you’re letting him spread you open and getting wet when you should be screaming for him to get off of you.

what was wrong with you?

you had no time to think about that, not when he added a third finger without warning. a cry filled the air–yours–from the stretch. you were so full. he sped up again, too, treating you with little compassion as he watched ruined your sopping pussy with the thick appendages.

“so pathetic to be this wet for me,” he shook his head at you, lips pulled together in a pout. “you know it too. you should be ashamed.”

you were.

“you’re not even gonna stop me, look at your legs shaking.” he pointed out the way you couldn’t keep still.

he was right; you weren’t gonna stop him. you couldn’t.

the veins in his arms strained with each pump of his fingers, biceps bulging against the tight sleeves of his shirt. you could feel your juices dripping down your ass, your other hole fluttering in sync with the one being stuffed with three fingers. every part of your body was tingling and desperate to be touched, and you were rapidly losing control of yourself the closer rafe brought you to the edge.

he noticed it, too. the way you couldn’t stop clamping down around him, how you unconsciously ground into his palm, the dazed look in your eyes and the desperation in your voice as you lost the ability to hold back.

“look at you,” he said. his eyes were filled with lust, dark and glossed over as he observed your behavior. “ready to cum after putting up all that fight. dressed up in this tiny, little skirt; you were practically asking for this. so disgusting.”

your breath was uneven and you felt like you were going to pass out, mind dizzy and drunk with the forced pleasure. he showed no signs of letting up, digging you out with a fervor that you’d never experienced. the sound of your whining became higher pitched, tears pouring from your eyes as you tip-toed the cliff ahead of you.

“you’re about to cum, huh?” you nodded your head at him, eyes wide and wet with the lubrication. “yeah? you wanna cum?”

you screamed, but not for the reason you wanted to.

“no.” rafe pulled his fingers away right before you fell off the edge, leaving your hips bucking against the air as you were denied the release he was forcing upon you in the first place. “you’re not gonna cum unless i tell you to.”

you would have rolled your eyes and protested, but the feeling of his hand coming down against your bare pussy made you yelp. your clit jumped and your nipples were begging to be released from the constraints of your shirt, the pain giving you a kind of pleasure that you weren’t equipped to handle. he did it again, and again. he did it until you were fighting to push him away and close your legs.

“aw, does that hurt?” he pouted at you when you whimpered out some semblance of a ‘yes,’ which was rewarded with another slap. “good.”

it was agonizing; how deliciously painful it was. it was so much–too much. you were becoming dumb, all brain function replaced with the pulsing of your abused cunt. he continued to slap your clit, entranced by the way it twitched and your hole clenched around nothing.

“you want me to stop?” you couldn’t answer; you were too stunned to form a coherent sentence and it made you feel like an idiot. rafe took pleasure in that. “stupid girl, you can’t even say anything. so fucked out and easy for me.”

you were tempted to push him away and get yourself off, but even through your foggy brain you knew he’d never let you get the chance.

“need to taste this pussy…” he mumbled to himself, not caring if you heard or not.

he dropped to his knees with eyes still focused on you as he blew against your exposed clit, both thumbs spreading your lips open. he wasn’t worried about you trying to escape anymore; not really. it was clear you were too dazed to do much of anything but pant like a dog and take his abuse.

he finally gave you his tongue after waiting for you to whine for it, the wet muscle flattening against the whole of your sensitive core. the texture of the appendage on your clit had you writhing, legs trapped in his hold and prevented from clamping down around his head.

you trembled as he lapped up your wetness, grinding against his face as he buried himself deep into your wetness. he was like a man starved, licking up your arousal as it spilled out of you in an endless fountain. the plush pillows of his lips encapsulated your clit, sucking on it roughly as he brought his fingers back down to fuck you open.

your head fell back from the intensity, cries tumbling out of your mouth clumsily as he laved against your rosy bud.

everything was so wet.

“don’t you dare fucking cum.” rafe growled, pulling away from your pussy. his fingers kept going, but he kept his eyes on you now. it was impossible to ignore the way you pulsed around him. “i’m not gonna stop, so you better hold it.”

a broken wail left you and you wanted to curl into a ball. this was just as much of a punishment as being beaten with the belt in the corner, you were now discovering.

“please…” the rope in your stomach was being sawed in half by the second and you weren’t going to last much longer. “i can’t…”

he rose to his full height, staring down at your messy for; thighs covered in sticky precum with your skirt crumpled up at your waist. your skin was hot to the touch and covered in a thin layer of sweat, face wet with tears stains and eyes filled with lust fueled desperation. his fingers worked purposefully in the deepest parts of your pussy that you’d never been able to explore yourself.

“taking me so fuckin’ deep, princess.” he teased you with his words, his voice only adding difficulty to holding back from cumming all over his merciless fingers.

“rafe…” you couldn’t tell him off; not when you were getting so close, so fast.

“‘rafe…’” he mocked the pleading tone in your voice. ocean blue eyes flickered up towards your own, dark with arousal as he watched you squirm. “you sound so pathetic.”

you could feel your thighs tensing as you tried your best to hold back. you didn’t know what he would do if you came without permission, but it was getting hard to care. his fingers were hitting repeatedly against a spot that had you seeing white and holding your breath.

rafe let you stay like that for a while, desperately hanging on by a thread as he watched.

“okay,“ he said, head tilted to the side. “you can cum–but i’m not gonna give it to you.”

“rafe!” you yelped. he pulled his fingers out and delivered a final smack to your already abused clit, smirking at your reaction.

reaching up towards your face, rafe squished your cheeks together until your mouth was forced open. you audibly protested when he brought his wet fingers to your lips, the smell of your arousal invading all of your senses. your noises of defiance were ignored as he shoved the digits into your mouth. he coated your tongue with the wetness covering his fingers, fucking your mouth in the same way he used your other hole.

you couldn’t stop the saliva that fell from your mouth; it leaked down the sides of your face uncomfortably and you wanted to wipe it away.

“you can go home later, and rub that dirty little cunt to the memory of this.” you stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth stuffed and clit pulsating at the wanton actions being performed on you. “every time you pick out a skirt to wear, you’re gonna sit on that welted up ass and you’re gonna think about how wet you got from my belt tearing you up.”

he watched you shift uncomfortably on your bare, bruised behind, but showed you no pity.

the sting of it brought you back to reality, the weight of what just occurred finally coming to your clearer mind. rafe’s hand gripped your jaw and tilted it upwards to bring your attention back to him. the fear that you felt earlier bubbled back up.

your mouth was relieved from the violating digits grazing the back of your throat. wet fingers slapped against your cheek twice, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make you wince from the sting.

“still think you’re above me?” rafe asked, face lowering to just mere inches away from yours. you shook your head the best you could, jaw still under the steel grip of his hand. “you–you should be thanking me, really…i’m older than you, remember? your job is to respect your elders, and my job is to correct you.”

you say nothing; not that you could anyway. he lowered his hand, pulling it away from your jaw and resting it on the circumference of your exposed neck. the tall man hummed at you, head tilting to the side like a puppy as he observed your disheveled form beneath him.

“i did it so that nobody else has to, y/n. jus’ looking out for you like i’m supposed to–even though you don’t deserve it.“ you blinked at him, prompting the fingers lying limply at your neck to squeeze as a warning. “say ‘thank you, rafe.’ you can do that right? ‘thank you for looking out for stupid little girls like me.’”

you gulped away the part of you that wanted to spit out a curse at rafe, resistance vibrating deep in your bones. this had to be more humiliating than being spread out over his fingers, you thought.

“thank you, rafe.” the voice that came out sounded pained, and rafe could tell. he tutted at you, clearly dissatisfied.

“i don’t think you mean that…do you want the belt on your pussy this time?” his eyebrow quirked up at you, amused clear in his eyes as he watched your own widen in panic.

“no! no, i really mean it!”

his free hand landed between your legs again as it delivered the stinging punishment of his palm once more.

“then fucking act like it.” rafe snarled at you, the heat of your center against his taunting hand. “‘thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re so good to me.’ and you better fucking mean it.”

“thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re s’good to me!” you cried out weakly. rafe continued to slap at your achy clit with his flattened fingers, wordlessly telling you he wasn’t satisfied with your response. “i’m stupid ‘nd i don’t deserve–ah! i don’t deserve it. i’ll be nice, i promise!”

happy enough with your gratitude, he relented. he pulled his hand away from your quivering lower lips and stepped back, allowing your legs to fall shut and guard your crying, battered cunt from the cool air blowing against it from the ac.

“you’re welcome.”

you watch from your spot on the bed as rafe picks up your discarded underwear from the floor. he shoves the item in his pocket, leaving you bare with nothing to protect yourself. standing from your position on the mattress, your legs wobbled like a young doe before straightening themselves to their full length.

you’d never felt so violated, so defeated. what made it even worse was the way your body still tingled with need. the feeling was deep inside you, walls clamping down on the phantom of rafe’s manly fingers. he was right, and it brought a cloud of shame that rained down on you. the first thing you’d do when you got home is stuff yourself with your own and pretend they were his. every time you sat down and felt the sting of his punishment, you knew you’d leak just like you were right now.

how could you call him a creep, a pervert? how could you call him disgusting when you were the one making a mess all over him after being held down and beaten?

feelings of guilt weighed heavy on your chest. you could pretend that none of this ever happened, but rafe would never let you forget; there’s no way he’d ever let it go.

shaking away the thoughts plaguing your mind, you pulled yourself together the best you could. a hiss sounded out through the room as you pulled the skirt down from around your waist.

the last thing you wanted to know was how bad your ass and thighs looked, the raised skin evidence enough as it painfully rubbed against the fabric of your skirt. rafe opened the door of his bedroom in a swift motion to reveal an empty hallway, eyes staring pointedly at you. the sound of your swift feet echoed off the floor, legs carrying you the fastest that they possibly could without tripping over each other.

before you made it past the threshold, rafe snatched your arm up into his grip. he leaned down to meet you at eye level, closely examining the way your breathing hitched.

“and stay the fuck out of my room."

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #drew starkey #rafe imagine #obx fic #outer banks x reader #obx3 #cleoluvrr fics

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we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 11.9k warnings: heavy second base action (no tops, dry humping) but no smut, swearing, drinking but it’s legal summary: their friends think that if there’s tension between new roomates (y/n) and yuuta, then they should just act on it. more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommate!au, childhood friends, unrequited(?) love

part one: “face it, you want it, you crave it” ___

Having Yuuta as a roommate was never all that weird for (y/n). Things sort of just worked out that way, and honestly she was so relieved that she didn’t have to scramble to find a stranger to split the rent with- or face homelessness- that she hadn’t really given it much thought until a few days after he’d moved all of his things in and had settled into their now shared space.

On paper, he was the perfect candidate after all. They’d been friends for years, having known each other since childhood it was easy to trust him in her space. He already spent so much time in her dorm when she still lived on campus that having him in her living space didn’t seem like it’d be that much different anyways. Not to mention she knew him to be tidy and a pretty good cook, so as long as he was able to supply half the rent every month, she was content.

The day he’d moved in she’d been so happy that she’d hardly focused at all on helping him unpack. Most of her time was spent dancing around to the moving playlist she’d made, and she insisted they jam out while they- he- unpacked his things in the empty room adjacent to hers. When she wasn’t dancing, she was rambling on about how delighted she was that he agreed to move in with her. Looking back it was probably a little much, but Yuuta wasn’t overwhelmed by her excitement in the slightest.

As soon as she’d mentioned being on the hunt for a roommate he hadn’t thought twice about offering himself. They both just so happened to decide to move off campus to find cheaper, and steadier housing. The market wasn’t all that great so living alone wouldn’t have been possible even if either of them had interest in the roach infested studios in the area. Even the two bedroom apartment they shared was rather tiny, the living space and kitchen was essentially all one room, and there was only one bathroom, but they made it work. It was still more affordable than living on campus, and that’s all they cared about.

For the first two weeks it had been fun, even. It felt like a sleepover with their best friend, but every night. They spent most nights in cozy pajamas curled up on the couch sharing their favorite movies and swapping snacks. (y/n) couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him, and she was happy to tell him so every chance she got.

Yuuta couldn’t believe how lucky he was to get to spend all his free time with her. No longer did he have to coordinate around both of their schedules in order to have quality time with his favorite person. If she had to study for the evening and couldn’t hang out, he’d happily sit on her bed scrolling on his phone or reading. When their friends were free they’d come over unannounced, because either (y/n) or Yuuta were bound to be around to hang out with.

It was just so easy, it almost felt like a dream. The beginning of having their own space as young adults to do with as they please.

Yuuta bought a fish tank for their living room, a whole ten gallon aquarium for a pretty betta fish that (y/n) helped him pick out. They spoiled it with plants and cool rocks for decoration. They took turns feeding him every three days, and regularly sat in front of his tank to admire him. If one of them weren’t present, the other would spam their phone with photos and videos of it swimming around, doing next to nothing, with captions full of hearts and emojis to swoon for their pet.

(y/n) spent her freedom a little differently.

At first it was decorating her new room with a maximalist aesthetic. Posters, tapestries, string lights, and any strange pretty thing she’d taken a liking to covered her walls so thick that most of it began to overlap. It could be overstimulating to some- as Maki had remarked when she first visited the place- but she loved it that way. It took her a full three days to collage a whole wall full of her favorite photos. Ones from childhood, some from grade school, most from her most recent experiences and adventures through college. If she were to pull out her phone and snap a photo to make a proper memory of the day, it was likely getting printed out the next day and taped up to the wall. Soon, those too began to pile up and overlap, but again, she loved it that way. Even Yuuta began to take pictures for her, printing them out when he found the time and sticking them to the fridge to surprise her.

Once the project that was her room had been tackled and she was satisfied with the home she’d made for herself, her desire for freedom took the form of heavy drinking. It might have been concerning, Yuuta certainly panicked a little bit when he’d come home from a late study group session and find her dancing around the kitchen with her favorite handle in her clutch and the belting of her favorite song echoing in the small space. Eventually her time of drinking alone proved to be just a phase, one too many hangovers having taught her a lesson on time and place for drinking hard alcohol straight. But he did come to learn that she was quite comfortable as a social drinker. So if the Zen’in twins and Toge were coming over, it wasn’t odd to find a drink in her hand. At least she started taking his advice and ending the night with a full glass of water and an ibuprofen.

All in all, living together hadn’t been too strange of a milestone for them. It was fun, it was easy, and they really couldn’t have asked for more out of a roommate. Being best friends was an added perk that just made it all the more smooth.

Until recently. ___

“I’m tellin’ you,”

(y/n) huffed as she pulled the straw from her mouth as she spoke. A signature vodka cranberry mixed to perfection after months of honing the skill of a perfect pour. Her movements are a little delayed and awkward as she leaned back into the kitchen counter, her elbows coming to rest on it to hold herself up as she leaned her head back dramatically. Maki, who had only been semi listening to the girl’s ranting, remained silent as she raised a brow at the display.

“I think he’s doin’ it on purpose” (y/n) finished with a mumble.

It was difficult to hear her over the game of mariokart that Yuuta and Toge were currently playing in the living room- they got quite competitive when it came to that game in particular- but Maki caught enough of it to understand where she was going.

She looked over at her sister with only mild interest in her expression. Mai touched her fingertips to her mouth as she chuckled to herself, finding the situation far more amusing than Maki.

The situation began as simple as this: In order to save time in the mornings when both (y/n) and Yuuta had class, they’d been working on a bathroom schedule in order to optimize their time. For example, (y/n) had started doing her hair and makeup at a mirror in her room, where she’d sit on the floor and go through her skin care routine, and any other beautification and styling she’d felt inclined to for the day. That helped a lot with cutting back on hogging the shared bathroom.

Yuuta’s idea of helping to cut back on time, is to go back to his room directly after a shower to dry his hair and get dressed for the day. It was a great idea in theory, and would definitely save an extra five to ten minutes.

However twice now (y/n) had run into him in the short hall from the bathroom to his room. She shouldn’t have been so flustered. Realistically, she wasn’t seeing anything she hadn’t seen before. There had been plenty of times she’d seen him without a shirt. In the backyard of the home she’d grown up in they’d often set up a sprinkler to run through. In high school they’d gotten their volunteer hours in through lifeguarding together. In their freshman year of college they’d gone to just about every frat party, bonfire, and beach day that was thrown, just to be able to say they had taken on the party scene in their younger years. Seeing Yuuta shirtless was nothing new.

But twice now she’d practically run into him, with nothing but a towel held around his waist, damp hair sticking to his forehead and falling around his eyes, pale skin still littered with droplets of water, and had he started working out-?

Even thinking about it now she felt her face heating up. She shouldn’t have committed that image to memory- but it happened twice already so it couldn’t have been more than her mind staying sharp, right?

“If he’s doing it on purpose,” Mai’s voice had (y/n) snapping her head up as she crash landed back in reality. Her blush was obvious to the twins, but she hoped to play it off as the alcohol in her system.

Certainly not the thoughts that had started littering her mind, thoughts that you just don’t have about a best friend and roommate.

“Then why don’t you just do something about it?” Mai finished with a small smile on her face that suggests she has quite a few ideas in mind on how she could fix this problem.

(y/n’s) eyes widen, and she brings her drink back to her lips to ease her racing heart and spiraling thoughts.

“Like what?” She mumbles, as if there was a chance the guys could possibly hear their conversation.

Nothing could compete with the sound effect of a blue shell incoming, and Toge’s defeated screeches.

Maki scoffs before laughing, finally finding entertainment in this whole ordeal (y/n) had gotten herself so worked up about. The last ten minutes of their girl talk in the kitchen had been for nothing, it seemed, if she wasn’t going to act on her obvious infatuation.

“Just bone?” She suggests with a small laugh.

(y/n) swears her eyes were going to bulge right out of their sockets, and what was meant to be a small sip of her drink turned into a gulp as she sucked a little too harshly on her straw.

“Maki,” Mai hisses, smacking her sister’s arm, before turning back to (y/n). “She’s not wrong though, that would definitely solve everything”

“I can’t do that!” (y/n) squeaks. “I just- it’ll pass, it’s just a little crush, right? That’s normal, right?”

She looks between the twins for confirmation, validation in her silly feelings that were bound to pass with time. Mai winces. Maki rolls her eyes. This wasn’t looking promising. But perhaps they were just too eager to set up their friends and see some drama to unfold, so (y/n) decides that their advice might be a bit on the biased side.

“Just test the waters a little first,” Maki suggests, shooting Mai a look as she tries to telepathically tell her to reel it in. “Dip your toes in a little. No harm in that, right?”

“You live together, how have you not experimented a little already?” Mai mumbles, her brows furrowing together as her eyes glaze over, as though trying to process how it could be possible. The calculations simply weren’t adding up.

(y/n) gnaws on the inside of her cheek, and her fingers begin to tap on her glass.

“I guess…” She says, but her uncertainty is obvious. “Well… how much is a little?”

The twins burst into laughter, and they’re looking at each other like there’s an inside joke she’s not in on, and (y/n) pouts at them for teasing her in their silent twin way. This wasn’t the first time, she should be used to feeling like an odd man out when it came to hanging out with these two, but they were her last hope for guidance, so she took what she could.

For now, she determined that Maki and Mai weren’t going to be of much help as they snickered and muttered to one another. (y/n) couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly, but she gathered enough to realize they were slights against her, and she had enough of the bordering-on-friendly fire.

“I’m playing mariokart” She huffs, strutting out of the kitchen space and across the floor to the living room. In this small apartment it was an open floor so the couch was only ten feet away, but it was far enough that she couldn’t hear their laughter anymore, and for now that was enough.

Yuuta and Toge were sitting on the sofa, both heavily concentrating on the competitive game. Their wrists are flicking the switch controllers with precise movements as they steer, but when it comes to using items and drifting, their fingers are smashing buttons viciously. As she rounds the sofa she eyes the screen, seeing that the pair are battling it out for first place, with Yuuta currently claiming the spot.

That is, until (y/n) plops onto the cushioned armrest right beside him, and he glances up at her out of habit. The two seconds that he takes to smile up at her- even though she’s watching the screen- is all Toge needs to creep up Yuuta’s character and throw a green shell directly at his kart.

The remote tingles in his hands with a familiar vibration, his character having taken a hit. Yuuta’s head swivels back to the screen, as he desperately tries to make a comeback, but two other characters have already passed him, and now he’s in fourth place.

“What the hell!?” He groans as he realizes his demise is inevitable. It was the third lap of the game, and Toge’s Yoshi was about to cross the finish line. “That was so uncool!”

Toge’s cackling to himself, proud of his sneaky attack. He had a feeling it would work, all he needed was the perfect distraction. And nothing distracted Yuuta like (y/n).

As Yoshi crosses the finish line, Yuuta drops his controller to his lap with a defeated huff. He leans back into the sofa, head hitting the cushion as he glares at the screen displaying Yoshi’s victory dance, before he turns to (y/n), who gives him a sympathetic smile, before offering her drink to him.

“That was a dirty move,” She sides with him- typical, Toge rolls his eyes at the two of them, which goes unnoticed- “You’ll get him next time”

Yuuta takes the glass from her hand, sipping from the straw experimentally. There had been a period of time where her drinks were so strong he was about ready to cut her off from alcohol altogether. When a perfect mixture of vodka and cranberry juice hits his tongue, he’s pleasantly surprised that it’s not too bitter. His eyes light up at her before he swallows. She giggles at the obvious reaction.

“Yeah yeah” She mutters before he could even say anything. He didn’t have to for her to understand exactly what he was thinking.

Yuuta chuckles at her, before scooting over on the sofa, closer to Toge, so that there was some space for her to sit next to him.

“You want in?” He asks, holding his controller out to her.

She squeezes awkwardly into the small space, her legs still hanging over the armrest, and her back almost completely pressed into his side. Toge had shifted completely to one side of the couch, giving Yuuta more than enough space to also move so that (y/n) could sit properly. But neither of them seem to notice the blonde boy’s silent offer. Or, if they did, they didn’t pay any mind to it.

(y/n) takes the controller with a grin and a nod, and Toge starts up the next round. Yuuta had chosen Rosalina as his character, a favorite between them that they often fought over so much she was usually off limits when the two of them played.

Despite having a delayed start because Yuuta had finished the last race somewhere in the middle of the lineup, (y/n) makes a good comeback for the both of them. He cheers for her, leaning forward in his seat again as though he were still focused on the game for his own win. (y/n) remained in a relaxed position slumped back against him, her fingers moving with swift ease over the controller.

She giggled at the way Yuuta was on the edge of his seat, literally, sipping down the rest of her drink as he watched her play. He threw out advice when she picked up items, and winced for her when she took a hit.

“Use that! Throw it! Throw it at-!”

“Yuuta you’re being a backseat driver” (y/n) said calmly, keeping the red shell in her inventory despite his demands.

Toge barks out a laugh, still coasting in first place without much competition from the computers. But (y/n) was quickly gaining on him, drifting and gliding past the other spots with ease, and Yuuta began to realize her strategy. With a knowing grin on his face he leans back into the couch again, and puts his faith in her abilities.

She kicked his ass most of the time when they played one on one anyways.

Soon enough she was in second place and Yoshi was in sight. Yuuta’s hand happily tapped at her shoulder, giddy with his excitement. Toge had gone eerily silent as he put all of his focus in remaining in first. But his efforts were wasted, without an item to defend himself, (y/n) was able to take him out with one blow, stealing first place for herself and crossing the finish line on the final lap shortly after.

She raised her arms victoriously, but even more excited than her was Yuuta, who bragged in Toge’s face before wrapping his arms around his roommate and congratulating her on her win. She laughed, her head falling back on his shoulder as she laughed at his antics.

He beamed at her, and even though it was silly, there was no doubt in her mind that his pride in her was anything but authentic. Yuuta was just like that. He celebrated even the most minor of conquests.

Toge tossed the controller onto the coffee table with a string of curses muttered under his breath.

“Good timing,” Maki calls, dangling her keys in her hand and catching their attention. “Are you crashing here or are you leaving with us?”

(y/n) lifts her head up from Yuuta’s shoulder, peeking over the back of the couch at the twins who suddenly had their shoes on. She gives them a pout.

“Leaving so soon?”

“We’ve been here for eight hours” Mai giggles.

“It’s one in the morning you maniac” Maki rolls her eyes.

“You could just spend the night,” (y/n) offers, her features brightening up at the idea. “Sleepover-!”

“No,” Maki shakes her head firmly, despite Mai’s excited expression at the idea. “We have class in the morning, we’ll do it another time, okay?”

(y/n) nods, satisfied with that answer.

Toge shuffles off the couch, giving a bitter congratulations to the winning pair of mariokart, although he made it clear to Yuuta that he only won because (y/n) took over.

They bid their friends goodbye, promising to meet up again at some point soon, knowing fully well they wouldn’t make a plan, and someone was bound to show up on their doorstep without invitation tomorrow or the next day.

And then it was just (y/n) and Yuuta.

She was still tucked under his arm, he was still drinking the remnants of the drink she’d made for herself but had conveniently forgotten about so he could have the last of it.

“Are you going to bed, too?” She asks him, and he chuckles at her desire for staying up late.

They’d always been opposites in that aspect.

(y/n) was a night owl through and through, whether party mode was on or not. She was most productive when the sun went down. It wasn’t odd to find her studying or doing chores at odd hours of the night. He’d actually had to tell her she couldn’t vacuum in the middle of the night, claiming she was going to make their neighbors complain. But it was a treat for him to wake up and find the apartment spotless and organized.

Meanwhile Yuuta was an early to rise kind of guy. He had a decent morning routine for himself that involved an alarm going off at eight in the morning every morning, and it wasn’t often he broke that routine. He’d be up for a few hours before (y/n) would drag herself out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast- which was usually waiting for her on the counter.

“It is the middle of the night now,” He tells her, before checking his phone. “Actually it’s not technically night anymore, it’s Friday morning”

(y/n) frowned at him. He chuckles again.

“Fine, fine” (y/n) starts to sit up, but doesn’t go too far. She pulls her legs onto the cushion beneath her, and then turns to face him properly.

For some reason when she looks up at him again, she’s brought back to her conversation with the Zen’in twins, and she can’t help but wonder what they would have advised her to do if she’d stuck around for the rest of their conversation. She wondered if Yuuta had ever experienced this dilemma, or if she was the only one creating the tension in the apartment. She wondered if he even felt it.

“Som’thin’ on your mind?” Yuuta asks after a few beats of silence pass. His eyebrows furrow in the slightest, and (y/n’s) expression eases into something calmer. She must’ve been thinking too hard, she supposes.

“Not really, just had a weird talk with Maki and Mai” She tries to brush it off as not a big enough deal worth talking about, but for some reason, this seems to catch his interest.

“Oh yeah?” He muses curiously. “Don’t tell me they want to move in-”

“No!” (y/n) let out a burst of laughter as she shook her head. “Where did that come from? Where would they even stay?” She asks, gesturing to the small space around them. Yuuta laughs with her, shrugging his shoulders.

“My thoughts exactly,” He agrees quietly, as though they were keeping it a secret just between them. “But everyone hangs out here all the time, I don’t want them getting any ideas,” He says, half seriously. “This is our sweet deal,”

Yuuta laughs again, but this time when she laughs along with him it’s soft, almost unsure. Her heart flutters in her chest at the sentiment he shares for having this place with her. Even after all this time, she feels relief in waves of warmth when he voices his happiness here.

“What is it then?” He asks. He leans back into the couch cushion, but keeps his eyes on hers. She tilts her head and hums in question. “Your weird talk,” He reminds her, “What was it about?”

“Oh,” (y/n) drops her gaze from his, her face warming up at the idea of admitting to him what they’d been talking about.

I’ve just been thinking about you shirtless a lot lately, and sometimes I can’t sleep over it just doesn’t seem to be an appropriate thing to say to a long time best friend who she now lives with.

“They were just asking questions about what it’s like to live together” She settles on a half lie. They had been curious about the living situation. She didn’t necessarily have to disclose that Mai found it unthinkable that they were able to share a living space and not tear each other’s clothes off… right?

“For us to live together?” Yuuta raises a brow. (y/n) tucks her hands into her lap and nods.

She tries to get comfortable leaning her back against the arm rest, but everytime his gaze falls on her, it feels heavier than usual, and she struggles to sit still. Her hands fiddle in her lap, she squirms in her seat, and she can only hold his eye contact for a minute at a time. Did he always look at her like that? She wondered when she dared to meet those deep blue irises again. Was it the few drinks he’d had that made them look darker? Or was she seeing things?

“Why was that so interesting?” He asks. “I mean, it’s been six months,”

Again, her heart flutters at the thought of him knowing exactly how long they’d been living together. Or maybe she was being stupid and he was just keeping track of the rent.

“What’s so interesting about now?”

(y/n) shrugs, a small smile on her face that she can’t help. “I don’t know”

But he sees through the statement, especially with that smile on her face that tells him there was more she wasn’t telling him. Curiosity gets the best of him, and he raises a brow at her.

“Well,” He ponders, “What were they so curious about?”

(y/n) drags her bottom lip between her teeth as she narrows her eyes at him, proving that she could read him well, too, and she could tell that he was trying to pry even though she’d been repeatedly dismissing the subject.

“Nosy tonight,” She scolds him as she kicks her legs out to throw them over his, stretching the sore muscles from sitting on her feet for too long. “Were you eavesdropping, Okkotsu?”

“No,” He lets out a small laugh. “Though now I wish I had been, since you’re being unusually cryptic about it”

“Unusual?” She repeats the word in a drawl, tilting her head and pretending to think it over. “I wouldn’t say unusual,” She argues softly. “I don’t tell you everything”

“Yes you do” Yuuta replies matter of factly, his expression doesn’t even flicker. (y/n) blinks at him.

“No…”

“Oh yeah? Tell me something you haven’t told me then” He challenges, his lips curling into a smile.

She huffs, and quickly tries to rack her brain for something she’d kept from him. Secrets and embarrassing moments fly through her train of thought as she tries to latch onto a memory that she was sure she hadn’t shared with him.

Her eyes light up as she finally remembers something she’s sure he didn’t know.

“Oh!” She leans forward with eager anticipation to prove him wrong. “Remember my first boyfriend? In middle school?”

Yuuta raised a brow, but nodded in confirmation.

“On our first date, he took me out-”

“Mhm,” Yuuta hums, recalling the details of that date without much thought at all. “Bowling” He said calmly.

“Right,” (y/n) chuckles, flustering a bit that he already seemed to remember the event as easily as she had. “Well, at the end of the date, when we were waiting outside for his mom to pick us up, he’d asked if he could kiss me while we were alone, before she got there,” Her words are a little slurred, which she was quick to mentally blame on the few drinks she’d had. “But I told him n-”

“- you told him no because you ate chili fries while you were bowling and you didn’t want him to taste it and then he kissed you anyways and you slapped him on instinct and he was a little whiner about it and said you did taste like chili fries and you smacked him again” Yuuta filled in the rest of the story, his head rested back against the cushion again, as though he was bored just from retelling it.

(y/n) blinked, her lips parting into an ‘o’ shape as she realized maybe he did know everything about her already. Should it have been obvious to her from his confidence on that matter? Probably. Did she still feel a determination to find something, anything, that he didn’t know? Definitely.

At her lack of response, Yuuta rolled his head to the side, a lazy smirk tugging on his lips when he regarded her soft surprise. Her eyes narrow in the slightest at him, playful mockery of his know-it-all attitude.

“Well, then,” (y/n) scoffed as she took on a refreshed attitude when it came to rubbing in his face that she knew something he didn’t. “I suppose you already knew that the twins were curious about how you and I seem to manage living together without some kind of netflix-romcom-level sexual tension”

The teasing tone in her voice and eager gleam in her eye seem to disappear as soon as the words come out and she realizes what she’s just said. In slow motion, and as her face falls into one of regret, she realizes two things.

One, that by addressing the sexual tension, whether it existed or not, it instantly thickened in the air. All at once she’s aware of it. Suddenly the weight of her legs in his lap is so heavy she feels a desire to curl up into him completely. Yuuta has one arm draped over the back of the couch cushions in her direction, his hand hangs loosely just in front of her shoulder. If she were to lean forward in the slightest movement, his fingers would graze her sweater. His other hand lays on her knee, and sporadically he taps his index finger against it. Sometimes she thinks he’s playing a familiar beat that’s been stuck in his head, too, but then he pauses and she loses track of figuring out what song that is. Even her breathing is suddenly manual, and she’s afraid if she sucks in a breath too sharp, he’ll question it. So she takes slow, shallow breaths, barely filling her lungs with oxygen. Was that why she was getting so dizzy?

Two, now that she’s admitted what her and the twins had been talking about earlier, (y/n) fears that she’ll have to confess that the reason they were talking about the sexual tension was because she’d created the sexual tension- and yet she had gone to them to blame him for it.

Yuuta blinks, his brows furrowing at first, as though to process the information, but he just as quickly relaxed his face and pursed his lips, giving her a small nod.

(y/n) doesn’t dare utter a word. Instinct claws up her throat and begs her to take it back, make a joke and apologize to smooth it over and hopefully they’d never mention it again. The words die before she can utter them. She remains frozen beside him, focused on his every microexpression, hoping to figure out what he was thinking before he voiced it.

“I see,” He says, a small smile gracing his features that has her relaxing just a little bit.

Yuuta can feel her weight shifting as she sinks further into the couch cushion. He could sense her nerves from a mile away, so he spoke carefully, hoping not to spook her into retreating early.

Comfortingly, his hand smooths over her knee, long fingers grazing her thigh from the short caress.

“I don’t think I would’ve guessed that,” He admits with a chuckle through his nose. His eyes flicker over to hers, watching her closely. Her cheeks are pink, and her gaze shifts between his eyes at a faster rate than usual. She’s still anxious. “But I can’t say I’m surprised”

Her lips twitch with a curious emotion Yuuta can’t read as well as before. Her brows pinch and then relax. She’s reading him, he thinks. His mind is a little hazy from the few drinks he’s had, so he might be seeing things that aren’t there, but he’s equally intrigued by the conversation.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” She asks. Her voice is quiet, but he doesn’t mistake it for uncertainty. In fact, he can tell just how genuinely interested she is in obtaining his thoughts. Just as he is, she’s on the edge of her seat, and only pushing further to see where this new line of thought would lead them both. “Living together, I mean” She clarifies, unnecessarily.

The pad of his finger taps against her knee, once, and then twice. His lips purse and she watches the movement with her breath hitched in her throat. The room was getting hot from the thickening tension that she’d created. It was almost uncomfortable, her body screamed for her to get up from this couch, pull herself from where she was half draped over his lap and put as much distance between them while she still could. She was approaching a line between them that she’d never even tiptoed across before, and she wasn’t sure what lied on the other side, but god, she was just dying to find out.

“Weird? Not in the slightest” Yuuta murmurs honestly. She can tell from the way his eyes lock onto hers that he does mean it, and relief flooded her. Before it came back in the form of excitement, and now her skin was buzzing everywhere that their bodies were touching.

“You’re not just saying that?” She double checks, leaning forward off of the arm rest to study him up close.

They were already close enough, but there was a quiet desire in the back of her mind longing to push closer, until she could make out the individual swirls of blue in his irises. Her lips curve into a soft, lovely smile as she admires him, and Yuuta fights the way his own breath chokes up in his throat.

“You really don’t think it’s weird we’ve never…” She trails off, her head shaking in a small movement, just enough to make a few stray hairs fall into her eyes. “I dunno, like, even kissed or anything?”

His eyes grow rounder at the question, widening just a little bit, but enough for her to notice. She knew such a blunt question would make him nervous, Yuuta always grew nervous at any sort of romantic prospect. He’d been that way since they were kids. If he had a crush on someone it was obvious, but as soon as (y/n) would press about it, he’d get red in the face and begin to stutter. It had always been cute, if not a little silly. But now it had her curious as to why. They’d been friends for so long, and even now that they were older, it was like his initial response to such questioning would make him shut down.

‘You could bring girls here, you know,’ She’d told him once, shortly after they’d settled into the apartment. ‘I could even leave for the night. Stay with the twins, or somethin. That way it’s not weird’

He’d laughed, and given her a puzzled look, like the mere idea was ridiculous, like he didn’t even understand what she was suggesting. The pink in his cheeks told her he knew fully well what she was saying. She’d returned the confused look at the time. ‘Don’t you want to bring girls here?’ She’d asked point blank.

‘N-no, well, maybe,’ His response was immediate but he had no clue what he was saying. ‘I just haven’t thought about it’ He’d said instead.

She’d teased him for it, but dropped the subject. It might’ve been entertaining to watch him squirm, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. So she’d simply reminded him that it was alright with her. Followed by, ‘I mean, you wouldn’t mind if I brought someone here, would you?’

He’d stared at her for a minute, his answer not as instantaneous as the last. His heart lurched to his throat, or perhaps it had been bile, and he found himself biting down on his tongue to keep from speaking too quickly. His expression hadn’t flickered even for a moment, remaining neutral as she stared at him, awaiting his response.

Yuuta hadn’t said a word. He simply shook his head, and then left the conversation completely by returning to his studies, hoping that giving his attention back to his textbook would drop the topic. It had worked, she’d moved on right away, and it hadn’t been brought up since.

Neither one of them had brought a visitor to the apartment, besides their friends who frequented regularly. There were no dates, no lovers, no visitors of the night snuck in, or even mentioned. Pondering it now, Yuuta supposes there were very few things she didn’t tell him. Then again, he didn’t exactly have an interest in knowing those things. In fact, the mere idea of it had bile rising in his throat.

Yuuta arched a brow at her, silently questioning her train of thought. Since that conversation early on in their roommate-ship, (y/n) rarely brought up this sort of topic. Occasionally she had a date, but nothing seemed to last longer than a couple of weeks, and she didn’t talk much about those events in detail. Always beginning with a simple ‘I have a date tonight’ and later followed up with ‘it didn’t work out’ and a shrug as she’d cozy up to him on this very sofa. Yuuta never met any of the people she’d go out with. (y/n) never offered him to. They left it that way, unspoken, and simple.

Well, it wasn’t all that simple at all. The nights she’d spend out of the house on these mystery dates Yuuta found himself sitting frozen and staring off into space, letting time lapse slowly as he waited for her return. A part of him hoped no one ever lingered at the door, so he wouldn’t have to see who it was she spent her time with, who it was that was her type.

But another part of him, the part that he tried to bury deep down, longed to look one of these men in the eyes, just once. He wouldn’t even say anything, he was sure he wouldn’t need to. If he could get one good look at them, he was sure he could make it clear just how undeserving of her time they were. Because at the end of the day, she had him, and she had him in every way that mattered. Since they were children, he’d been there, showing her what true love really looked like, felt like. He was there for every important event and milestone. He was here now, sharing a living space with her. And he’d be there for everything that came next. Because he cared about her. Because he loved her.

And when she had him the way that she did, wrapped around a perfectly manicured finger, how could anyone else be remotely deserving of her?

The gears in Yuuta’s mind are operating as fast as they can, spinning and whirring as he tries to decipher where exactly she’s going with this. But the alcohol in his system has him under a haze, and he realizes he has yet to give her an answer to her question.

He clears his throat, and his lips twitch into an amused smile as he locks eyes with her.

“Is kissing the true evaluation of roommates?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice that has her blushing and rolling her eyes at him.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as the back of her hand smacks into his shoulder, the action soft, as though she were trying to be gentle with him, as though he were fragile, even with his broad shoulders and lean muscle built into his body.

He can’t help but tease again, for the sole purpose of seeing her continue to fluster before him. The idea of making her forget how to behave around him after all this time has his heart skipping a beat, and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes.

“What exactly are the Zen’ins feeding you, hm?” He asks, and she struggles to look him in the eye now.

“I wasn’t trying to suggest- they just- they got in my head…” She huffs defeatedly, her bottom lip sticking outwards in a small pout. Yuuta’s eyes catch the plump pink skin, and they linger there for a moment longer than they should’ve before meeting her gaze again. Her eyes have noticeably widened, proving he’d been caught, but he doesn’t feel as much anxiety about it as he should have.

“So what,” He speaks curiously. “Are you asking me to kiss you?”

A small laugh escapes her, a tinkly little sound that is exhaled with the breath she’d been holding. Yuuta’s lips quirk upwards at the nervous response, his excitement getting the best of him the longer he watches her shift her gaze and fluster. Why this had been on her mind, he didn’t quite understand, but in their current predicament, he didn’t care too much to peel it back layer by layer.

“I didn’t-” (y/n) starts to shake her head, but her uncertainty overcomes her and she tries to switch gears. “I don’t know… I guess they made me sort of… curious” She admits bashfully. Her eyes focus on her fiddling hands in her lap before turning the question onto him. “Is that weird?” Her voice is quiet again. “Have you ever… I dunno… thought about it?”

The hand that he had resting before her shoulder reached out then, fingertips barely grazing along the soft material of her cable knit sweater. His gaze followed the motion as his fingers twitched and moved further on their own accord, stopping at the hem of the neckline, just before skin could touch skin. He looks back at her, surprised to find her attention locked on him again.

All of the fucking time, his brain is so loud it almost overpowers the heartbeat pouding in his ears. I don’t think I’ve ever truly stopped thinking about you.

“I suppose you’ve got me thinking about it now” Is what he says, quiet and smooth, although the blush on his cheeks betrays him and makes him appear a little softer than he was going for. (y/n’s) lips twitch into a smile nonetheless, relieved again that he hadn’t made a fool out of her for admitting such a thing.

When she leans closer to him, his fingers finally graze against the side of her neck, and he wastes no time in sliding his large hand around the nape of her neck, not quite pulling her any closer than she’d already brought herself, but the presence of his hand is firm, making sure she won’t distance herself too soon.

“Do you want to?” She asks, her eyes lighting up with an excitement he’d sparked as soon as he’d validated her curiosities. Her voice holds the silly eagerness of a girl much younger than she is. A schoolgirl with a crush, Yuuta thinks to himself as he eyes her bright eyes and slowly growing grin.

The hand on her knee flexes with anticipation, giving her leg a slight squeeze. He wants to say all the right things, he wants to do all the right things, because jesus christ this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and Yuuta could not afford to waste even a second of it. He wanted to commit it all to memory, her soft voice, the smell of her perfume, the curve of her lips, the stars in her eyes- there was so much of her to take in, and not nearly enough time for him to adore it all properly. With hooded eyes he studied every feature as best he could, wishing he could slow down time, or even freeze it altogether.

“Yeah,” He mumbles, and the word drawls out of his mouth in a long sigh as his eyes move between hers and her lips with a longing she’d never seen on him before.

If she didn’t know any better, (y/n) might have thought that look was desperation.

“Yeah, I want to,” He repeats a little louder, and he moves closer to her then, invading her space and clouding all of her senses with him.

His eyes, dark from how blown out his pupils had grown, his low almost raspy voice, the lingering remains of his musky cologne, the way his tongue barely poked out of his mouth to wet his lips- her heartbeat was racing, and her hand trembled as she reached out to place it against his collarbone. Her touch was feather light, almost experimental despite having touched him on plenty of occasions before, just never quite like this.

Her long lashes flickered quickly as she too struggled with where to look. When their gaze caught in passing, Yuuta gave the back of her neck a gentle squeeze, silently instructing her to hold his stare.

“You’re sure?” He asks softly, and she almost laughs at how thoughtful the question is. How thoughtful he is. But she doesn’t. Instead, she gives him a sweet smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

“It’s just a kiss, right?” She murmurs, blissfully unaware of just how worked up Yuuta’s gotten himself over the prospect of just a kiss.

He doesn’t wait for further confirmation. He simply draws her closer by the back of her neck. Her eyes flutter shut and she tilts her chin forward in the most miniscule of movements, and yet he can read her anticipation with ease.

Her breath hitches in her throat, and Yuuta’s closing the rest of the distance as his lips touch hers.

For half a second they’re both frozen, paralyzed by the sudden fear that there was no taking this back, there was no going back from this. (y/n’s) blood ran cold in that brief moment, worried that Yuuta also realized this was a grave mistake.

But then his mouth moves over hers. His warm lips catch hers with a soft yet determined kiss, and she gives into every temptation that consumes her.

Her hand presses into his chest a little harder, before her fingers are curling into the soft cotton of his tee shirt. Her other hand falls against his shoulder when he tugs her closer in a moment of thoughtless desire. Yuuta pulls her by her knee, sliding her closer until her legs drape completely across his, the curve of her ass flush with his thigh. As soon as he does it he panics again that he’s made a mistake and taken this experiment of a kiss too far, but she responds so eagerly, with a quiet hum against his mouth and her hand curling around his neck as she deepens their kiss.

For a kiss on a whim between friends, (y/n) kisses him with the fervor of a woman starved, and Yuuta internally struggles on where the boundary between them currently lies. His hand twitches on her thigh, squeezing the plush of her leg and aching to move, to explore the rest of her warm and inviting body, to touch her everywhere he could reach. He has to hold her a little tighter just to fight the urge.

(y/n) is less worried about taking strides across the gray area of a boundary between them. The hand on his neck slides into his hair, scratching at his scalp before her fingers tangle into the dark tresses. She gives it a small tug, and his lips part against hers as he gasps, before chuckling quietly at her curiosity. He feels her smile against him before she’s pressing closer again. Her tongue darts over his swollen bottom lip, and she gives him no time to react to the hot and wet sensation before she’s capturing his lips again.

Yuuta wasn’t sure what he should’ve predicted when they’d drunkenly admitted to sharing a curiosity for kissing one another, but he hadn’t expected this. Her hands have a tight hold on him, on his shirt and in his hair, and her sweet, cranberry flavored lips feel relentless as she slots them into his again and again. He supposes he’s treating this little experiment the same, meeting each of her kisses with the same amount of heated excitement. He tries not to think about when he’s supposed to stop, when he’s supposed to pull away and say ‘well that answers that. Goodnight!’. So for now he pretends that moment won’t come.

On the other hand, (y/n) knows she should stop. She knows she should pull away from his addictive lips and release her shackles from him before she gets carried away.

But she’s already too far gone, isn’t she?

Shakily, she releases his shirt, and her hand blindly maps across his shoulder, then down his arm. Her touch is light but the tips of her fingers burn across his skin. His muscles are taut, and she wonders if he’s flexing to be impressive or if he’s filled with so much anticipation he’s fighting the urge to go further. When her hand reaches his it stills, and she presses her palm into the back of his hand where it lies on her leg.

A shudder escapes her and she pants softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss as she grabs his hand a little tighter, and moves it.

Yuuta breaks away instantly, wide eyes meeting hers and an apology on the tip of his tongue. But before she can pull his hand away from her, he realizes she’s holding it to place it somewhere else, not to pull it away.

She blinks her eyes open lazily as she sits up further, curving one of her legs across his lap, setting her knee down beside his hip. Yuuta follows her movements in a daze, his hooded eyes flitting across her body as he watches her straddle his lap and settle back into him carefully. She’s slow, agonizingly slow, giving him ample time to halt her, to say the word that he was done and his curiosity had been satiated.

He doesn’t.

Her hand pushes his again, guiding it up to her waist, and then down over her hip.

“This okay?” She mumbles, and his gaze moves from where she’s still lowering his hand. He tilts his head back as he looks up at her, and the look in his eyes has her melting right in his lap. Her free hand spreads out over his chest, fingers stretching as far as she can reach to feel as much of his heated skin through his tee shirt as she could.

He looks at her with his pupils so blown they almost eat up every last splash of blue in his irises. His lips are swollen and parted as he takes in quiet, heavy breaths. He nods at her lazily, drunkenly, and she wonders if it’s from the alcohol or from her.

When she pushes his hand under her ass, she doesn’t have to guide him any further. He squeezes into the supple flesh right away. She giggles quietly before his other hand is pulling her into him again and smashing her lips against his.

They’re much closer now, it had taken little to no effort for him to pull her into his chest, and their hips collided at the sudden movement.

All she thinks about as she tangles her hands in his hair and parts her lips for his tongue to lazily explore her mouth are those couple of times she’s caught him in a towel fresh out of the shower. How she’d scurried into her room and tried to ease her mind of the dark thoughts he’d made blossom. She thinks about how there hadn’t been anything to quite satisfy those thoughts. Ignoring them did nothing, acting on them in the safety of her room and her hand down her panties made them worse, and even now she feels tortured by the image, making her ache for more, more, more. Nothing was quite enough.

His teeth sink into her bottom lip and she whimpers, her brows pinching as her hips stutter against her will. She feels as though she should apologize for grinding on him so shamelessly, she could feel what this makeout session was doing to him after all, but he doesn’t seem to want an apology. His hands grip her hips and he pulls her down again, dragging her slowly over the growing hardness in his pants with a low groan.

The guttural sound reverberating from his chest only spurs her on, and she complies with the rhythm he sets on her hips, slow and painful. Their kiss breaks as she lets out a few soft pants, but she never fully catches her breath as she grinds into him.

She can’t help but peek her eyes open at him, falling in love with the way his eyes are screwed shut and his lips are parted as small moans fall from his mouth. The sight makes something spark send a jolt of pleasure down her tummy and to her core. She knew she should’ve given him a quick peck of the lips and called it a night, because she’s not sure she could muster the strength to stop where she so desperately wanted this to go.

As though annoyed that she’d stopped kissing him for too long, Yuuta pulls her in again, his hand curling around the back of her neck as his lips plant hot kisses down her throat. A high pitched gasp escapes her as his mouth drags along her skin between each kiss, and her hands are curled into his long hair again. Her hips stutter in their pace, but he has no issue with grabbing them tighter and guiding them back through his favorite rhythm.

His mouth lingers at what little of her collarbones are exposed, leaving wetter kisses there as he appreciates them as fully as he could, before traveling up the side of her neck. His teeth barely graze the sensitive skin, and he’s dying to mark up every inch of her, but he restrains himself from doing so, instead compromising for lingering nips and gentle sucks against her skin.

“So fucking beautiful,” He praises in a husky murmur, biting down on a particularly sensitive spot just under her jaw. He’s rewarded with a sudden rut of her hips and a pretty little moan as she angles her head further back to expose more of her neck to him. He soothes the spot with a painfully slow drag of his tongue before kissing it sweetly. “So perfect, so perfect f’me”

The praise sends her into a dizzy spell so strong she’s not sure she’s still on earth with him. This must be another universe, maybe heaven, maybe a dream. Her fingers fall from his hair, tugging at the collar of his shirt with an irritated whine.

When she tugs a few more times and he doesn’t get the hint, she throws her hands against his chest defeatedly.

“Yuu” She whines, and the sound of his name has his dick twitching in his pants, which he’s certain she could feel. His face flushes with embarrassment, but she just as quickly grinds into him with a roll of her hips.

He hums questioningly against the side of her neck, before tilting his head and kissing his way to the other side to give it attention too. She sighs, half irritated, half pleasured, as he sweeps her hair to the other shoulder with one brush of his hand. (y/n) continues to paw at his shirt, bunching up as much material at his shoulders as she could, her desperate attempts were weak, barely exposing the skin of his abdomen. When he still didn’t comply with her unspoken desire, she opted to reach for the skin that she could get her hands on.

Yuuta’s abs tensed and he shuddered as her fingers ghosted over the exposed skin. At first she barely trailed her fingertips over the muscle, but watching him twitch and shiver had her eager to slide her hands up his stomach, eagerly mapping their way up his chest, and pushing the rest of his shirt upwards on their mission.

His face is completely red as he watches her heavy gaze admiring his body. He wants to laugh and remind her that she’s seen him without a shirt many times before now, and he’s never seen her look at him like this, but her eyes are darkened with lust and his voice is stuck in his throat, so he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, when the hem of his tee shirt is bunched up at his chest, he leans forward off the couch cushion, and takes his hands off of her hips so he could grab his shirt from the back, lifting it over his head in one quick yank. (y/n) watches with her lip between her teeth as his hair falls back in his face, and he’s left shirtless before her.

The idea of slowing this down now is far from either of their minds. She hums with appreciation as her hands smooth along his collarbones, fingers drawing loopy shapes into his skin as they travel down his chest, slowly exploring the skin she’d been fantasizing about for weeks now. His blush runs down his neck and stops just short of his collarbones, and (y/n) admires every inch of it.

Eventually her stare is too intense and Yuuta begins to stir, wrapping his hands around her hips once more to pull her against his chest before his lips meet hers. It’s a slow kiss at first, and her tongue brushes over his in a way that almost feels sweet. He could still taste the vodka and cranberry juice in her mouth, and he swears it's enough to get him buzzed. But as his hands climbed her hips and dipped below the hem of her sweater, she picked up her pace, and he could feel quick puffs of air from her nse hitting his cheek.

She’s getting worked up again, and he’s eager to see just how far he could push her before she gives in completely.

He pulls her in close enough that her hands dart back into his hair, gripping at the back of his head tight enough that he couldn’t tear his lips from hers if he wanted to. Not that he’d want to, with how drunkenly she’s sucking at his lower lip and whimpering into his mouth with every roll of her hips.

Learning she’s so vocal when she’s turned on was a mistake on Yuuta’s part. Because now all he longed to do was find all the right things that made her tick and do it more. Every strained whine and whimper was music to his ears, wordless praise that he was doing something right, and he’d be damned before he found every spot that had her making those sweet noises for him.

Calloused hands roam over her abdomen, feeling it dip as she inhales sharply, and smirking against her mouth when he reaches higher, skimming the hem of her bra.

Unlike him, she wastes no time at all. Leaning back from their kiss abruptly, and grabbing her oversized sweater from the bottom and pulling it over her head with great urgency. Yuuta’s eyes fall to her chest instantly, wide and eager as they take in the simple red bra and how pretty the color makes her tits look. The thin lace on the edges complimenting the swell of her chest so beautifully he hopes he commits this image to memory.

Now it’s her turn to fluster and blush while he unabashedly stares. And she could tease him, remind him that he’s seen her in a bikini, that this was the same amount of skin he’s been gifted to see before, but she finds herself growing bashful under his heavy gaze. She can feel the way his eyes take a mental picture of her before he finally leans forward to enjoy the exposed skin further.

“Fuck,” He mumbles, lips brushing over her clavicle before kissing downwards, between the valley of her breasts. “You really are s’fucking beautiful, y’know that?” His words are slurred as his hands roam up her sides and hesitate just before reaching her chest. “Can I touch you, pretty girl?”

The praise and pet name swirl in her mind in a sweet haze that gets her high. She gives a soft mhm and a nod of her head before his hands gently cup over her chest, squeezing with a surprising softness into the warm flesh. Yuuta continues to kiss along the exposed skin he could reach, her collarbones, the swell of her tits, her shoulders, his lips dragged over every inch, making sure to disperse his attention diligently.

“So beautiful,” He sings praises between each kiss, noticing the way it has her squirming in his lap. “So perfect, every part of you”

He grabs her hands by the wrists, pulling them up to his shoulders, until her fingers twitch and reach for his hair again. Her hips roll over his with a quiet moan. He lifts his head at the noise, a lazy smirk on his lips as he gazes up at her. She furrows her brows at him as she moves her hips again, trying to get more friction between them.

His hands squeeze her tits simultaneously, before his left thumb drags over the thin material covering them, finding her hardened nipple with ease and rolling over it teasingly.

“Yuuta,” She sighs, tilting her head at him as her gaze drags slowly down his body, the desire in her eyes obvious.

It made the room thick with sexual tension, and they both only grew hotter in temperature the longer this was dragged out. When her eyes met his again it was undeniable what she was thinking. Her every want and desire was clear solely from her eyes focused on his, and how her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him close to her face, but not quite kissing him.

His hands slid up her chest, fingertips prodding at the lacy cups of her bra until it gave way and he could slide his hands over the soft skin beneath. Her bottom lip quivers with what she wants to say next.

“Yuu, I-”

A sharp rap of a fist against their door has them jolting back to reality with a harsh swivel of both heads turning towards the sound. Without thought Yuuta’s hands fall to her waist and he pulls her into him, instinctively covering her barely exposed body if someone was to let themselves into the apartment. But the door doesn’t move, and the knocking persists.

“What the- it’s two in the morning,” (y/n) mumbles with a brow furrowed in confusion. “Who could-?”

The pair lock eyes as realization floods over them at the same time. Oh.

“Shit” Yuuta curses, and (y/n) quickly scurries off of his lap as she begins searching for their discarded articles of clothing.

Yuuta’s faster, tossing her a shirt and pulling one on for himself as he gets up off the couch and quickly heads for the door. He glances down at his pants with a wince, trying to adjust the obvious hard on, but to no use. He tugs as far as he can at the hem of his sweater to cover it. It’s a half decent job, and as he approaches the door he hopes it’s enough to hide it. He gives (y/n) a quick look to make sure she was decent.

She’s still sitting on the couch, her head peeking over the cushions curiously as he goes to open the door. Her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are flushed, both obvious giveaways to what she’s been up to for the last fifteen minutes. Yuuta’s sure he doesn’t look any better, and his hands rush to his head to smooth his hair down before he finally grabs the door knob and swings it open.

“What?” He greets Toge with more annoyance than usual, and the blonde on the other side of the door raises a brow at the tone.

Lavender eyes sweep over Yuuta’s flushed face and messy hair. He points into the apartment, vaguely towards the living room. Yuuta steps aside, letting his friend in for whatever it was he’d forgotten.

Toge gives (y/n) a friendly smile and waves as he strides into the living room. She returns the smile with weak lips.

Their visitor grabs a hoodie off of the arm chair to the left of the couch, something neither (y/n) or Yuuta had noticed left behind. He shrugs it on and stuffs his hands into the cozy fleece-lined pocket with a satisfied smile before waving goodbye to (y/n) and walking out of the room just as quickly.

“Sorry I didn’t notice it sooner,” Yuuta says sheepishly as Toge passes. “I could’ve brought it to you tomorrow”

Toge waves a dismissive hand, before twirling his finger around and shrugging. He must’ve still been in the area, Yuuta realizes.

He’s about to step out the door and leave without a catch, but he hesitates just as he steps over the threshold, his eyes doing a double take as he notes the dark green cable knit sweater Yuuta’s wearing.

His eyes linger on the article of clothing, brows pinching with familiarity, before he lifts his gaze to Yuuta’s, who’s also suddenly aware of the shirt he was wearing.

Before he can stop himself, Yuuta’s head is swiveling to where (y/n) was still watching them both from the couch. She’s sporting a tee shirt too loose on her frame to be hers. Toge follows Yuuta’s gaze, his eyes widening with realization.

“Anyways!” Yuuta clears his throat as he turns back to Toge with a grin so forced his cheeks hurt. “I’ll see you later?”

Toge opens his mouth, a grin of his own forming and a small laugh coming from his throat, but before anything could be said, Yuuta was ushering him through the rest of the doorway, already trying to shut the door in his face.

“Yeah, later, goodnight, Toge!”

The door closes a little harsher than he meant it to, the frame shaking as the latch clicks into place. Yuuta locks it just as quickly, before groaning and hitting his head against the wood. It felt like his heart was beating in his throat. He worried he might throw up from the anxiety coursing through his veins.

“That was close,” (y/n) says quietly, just loud enough for him to hear.

He’s too anxious to look at her. He squeezes his eyes shut and stays put against the door. Distantly, he remembers his dick is still hard.

He can hear (y/n) stirring, getting up from the couch and padding closer to him. She pauses just before she reaches him.

“Do you think he noticed the shirts?” She asks quietly.

Yuuta sighs, finally lifting his head from the door only to throw it back and stare at the ceiling. He doesn’t want to see how worried he’s sure his expression looks. He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea about the regret pooling in his stomach.

“Probably” He admits in a quiet groan.

(y/n) shuts her eyes as she winces, covering her face with her hands.

The tension in the room is no longer due to sexual desire overtaking their inhibitions. It was awkward. Painfully awkward.

“I feel so stupid,” She mumbles into her hands.

Yuuta’s head snaps towards her, taking in the shame in her body language. His heart sinks towards his stomach. Had they made a massive mistake? (y/n) drags her hands down her face before looking up at him, her brows drawn together with a knot of worry between them. Had he made a massive mistake?

“I am so- I’m so sorry,” She tells him weakly. “I shouldn’t have- that was- I was-”

She can’t even finish a thought, much less an explanation on how ridiculously impulsive and embarrassing that was. Her face is growing pale and she feels sick to her stomach. She couldn’t believe she’d just ruined one of the greatest friendships she’s ever had over a silly conversation with the Zen’in twins about a silly crush. She couldn’t believe she’d just ruined the perfect living situation with the perfect roommate over a crush that probably would've gone away on it’s own had she just handled it maturely.

“It’s okay-” He starts to say, trying to find the right way to explain to her that he wasn’t upset in the slightest about what happened between them. He’d only been embarrassed about practically getting caught. He knew their friends well, and he was sure that Toge wasn’t the only one to notice the swap of shirts. Surely Maki and Mai had already been given an earful about the whole ordeal.

Before he can say anything else, (y/n’s) cutting him off.

“I should go to bed,” Her voice is too soft to overpower his, but he shuts up as soon as she speaks. “I’m… I’m really sorry, Yuuta,”

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in her sad, apologetic eyes. She really meant it. She really felt guilt over what had happened. His stomach twists with disturbance, and fear.

“Please forgive me, I… I hope you can forget about… that”

Forget? No…

But she’s turning away from him, running her hands through her hair in a stressful manner as she quickly darts for her room. Yuuta’s left standing at their door, wide eyed and open mouthed in his shock.

Did that all really just happen?

His palm comes up to cover his mouth, the realization settling into his bones and making his blood run cold.

God, it did, it really did.

He’s slow as he puts the switch remotes back on the console to charge, before turning off all the lights and going to his own room. He unzips his pants and kicks them off somewhere in his room before crawling into bed, not bothering to change into something proper to sleep in, or take off the sweater he’d accidentally stolen. He lays on his back, eyes focused on the blank ceiling of his bedroom as he replays it all over and over in his mind.

(y/n) also sits awake in her bedroom. But she’s far from frozen. She repeatedly kicks the covers off herself before tugging them back on, undecided on if she was hot or cold. She’d abandoned her pants and laid awake in Yuuta’s tee shirt, the scent of his cologne and something else that was distinctly him still clinging to the fabric. Tears welled in her eyes as she curled in on herself, hugging her pillow to her chest in a desperate attempt to seek comfort.

Neither one of them gets much sleep. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

I would love to see something from the beginning of poly!marauders relationship where they are figuring out that they all want to be together and learning how to make it work. I’ve always wondered how their relationship would start!

Thanks for requesting my love! It took me so long to get to it, I appreciate you being so patient with me <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Sirius is playing with Remus’ fingers, and you’re trying to figure out if the ache of longing in your chest is some relative of jealousy. You don’t want it to be. Remus and Sirius are your friends, and you’re happy that they make each other happy. And honestly, looking at them now, with Sirius’ leg slung over one of Remus’ and Remus’ long fingers in his grasp, you’re not sure which one of them you’d trade places with if you could.

Things have gotten…complicated, lately, though none of you are talking about it. Two weeks ago, James had kissed you, and you’d really, really liked it, but you’d felt obligated to confess your confusion to him. You do like James and want him to kiss you, but you can’t help feeling guilty for also harboring feelings for two other people at the same time. It wouldn’t feel fair to start something with James, who deserves all the best anyone has to offer, if you feel like you can’t be fully in it with him.

And of course you’d known he’d be cool about it, but you hadn’t expected him to truly understand. He’d told you that Remus had kissed him back before he and Sirius had gotten together, and James hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the other boy either. Neither of you had quite known how to move forward in light of your admissions, but you’d agreed to put things between the two of you on hold for the time being.

Then just yesterday, you’d been walking to class with Sirius, and he’d accidentally brushed your bum with his hand. The zing you’d felt was probably more a nervous response than anything else, but it had felt markedly different from the icky feeling you’d gotten when boys had touched you without your consent before. Sirius had been quick to apologize, and you’d waved it off, but you’d seen the look in his eyes. You aren’t usually one to flatter yourself by presuming anyone might have feelings for you, but the attraction in his gaze was unmistakable.

You’d said anything to anyone about that, but even now, when he’s half atop his boyfriend, Sirius’ eyes keep flitting to where you’re working on your homework.

“Anyone started on the potions essay?” Remus asks.

“No,” says James. “Have you?”

“No.”

You and Sirius both make quiet sounds of agreement.

It’s silent again, the only sound the gentle scratching of pen on parchment.

“Alright.” James sets his pen down with a thwap. “What’s going on with you guys?”

You look up, and he’s staring right at you.

“What, me?”

“Everyone!” James shakes his head. “No one is talking to each other. Did something happen?”

You press your lips together, but Sirius blurts, “I told Remus I was into Y/N.”

James blinks, looking about as shocked as you feel but without the added embarrassment. You wish, not for the first time, that you could apparate straight out of Hogwarts.

“It’s fine,” Remus says. “We’ve sorted it.” He gives you a kind look. “Don’t look so nervous, love, I wasn’t upset. It’s not like we don’t all have thoughts about other people sometimes.”

Sirius looks unsurprised, and you gather that was a part of the conversation they’d already had, but James nearly chokes on air.

“Do you?” he asks.

Remus flushes, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around Sirius’. “Sure. Sometimes.”

James and Remus’ gazes are locked, a sort of heaviness building in the air between them, and you hurry to dispel the tension. “I mean, you’re all very good-looking,” you laugh. “It’d be impossible not to notice each other.”

Sirius seems on board with your plan of levity, falling easily into his default flirtatiousness. “Yeah, gorgeous? Do you notice as well?”

For a second, your mouth works without sound, your thoughts flittering about your head like frenetic butterflies. You’re sure your face is turning a humiliating pink. “I—I mean, like I said, it’s hard not to.” You clear your throat. “You don’t get to be the golden boys of Gryffindor for nothing.”

“And here I thought it was our brains.” Sirius grins, letting you out the trap he’d unintentionally ensnared you in. “Well, if we’re known for our looks, then it makes sense why you’re part of the group too.”

It takes you a second to catch his meaning, but you don’t miss Remus’ tiny nod of agreement.

“Wait a minute,” James says, still looking between the lot of you like he’s refereeing a particularly perplexing tennis match. “So…Sirius and…who all here likes who?”

You go mute, as do the other boys.

James nods, and he’s sticking his tongue in his cheek like he does when he’s nervous, but the set of his brows is resolved. “Okay, I can go first. I fancy each of you.”

You look over at Remus and Sirius, but neither of them appear as shocked as you’d think the profession would warrant. Sirius opens his mouth like he has something to say, then shuts it again.

“Trust me, I feel very weird about it,” James goes on anxiously. “I just wasn’t sure—”

“No, it’s alright.” Remus leans forward slightly, looking like he would reach out and comfort James if he were close enough. “I’ve…I’ve had similar thoughts.”

Sirius has ceased his toying with Remus’ hand, but he doesn’t let it go, looking down at their joined fingers. “Me too,” he says, not quietly but noticeably lower than his normal half-shouting volume.

“I never…I don’t really understand it all the way,” you admit. “But I think I like each of you too.”

There’s another agonizing silence. Remus starts to brush his thumb gently over Sirius’ knuckles.

“It doesn’t make any sense to me,” you say finally. “I see you two together, and I’m not jealous at all. But I like you both.” You look over at James, and your face hasn’t cooled at all, but it gets a new wave of heat now. “And you, too.”

James gives you a little smile, and it’s like he can’t help himself, reaching over to give your shoulder a tiny squeeze.

“I don’t think,” Remus says carefully, “that there’s anything wrong with that. I mean, it’s not like any of us doesn’t like anyone else, apparently. Just…what do we do about it?”

You and James exchange a look, but this suddenly feels like something you shouldn’t intervene in. You’re both single, but Remus and Sirius aren’t.

“Well,” Sirius drawls with a nonchalance that’s definitely forced but so familiar that you’re grateful for it anyway, “if it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to date.”

“You are dating,” you point out.

Sirius shoots you a mocking look. “Date all of you, smart-ass.”

James lets out a little laugh, and you smile a bit at Sirius’ brashness. The both of you look to Remus.

Remus only shrugs as if you’ve asked him to comment on the weather. “S’alright with me.”

James really does laugh now, the loud, hooting sound you love so much. “It’s alright? You really do know how to make someone feel special, Moons.”

“Fuck off,” Remus laughs. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Um, that we’re the most attractive people you’ve ever seen and nothing would make you happier?”

“Well there you go, James. You’ve said it for me.”

The laughter dies out, the new awkwardness of more-than-friends settling over the four of you.

“Well shit,” Sirius says after a minute. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. “You’re the only ones who have been in a relationship, what do you guys do?”

Sirius looks at Remus, and Remus looks back.

“What do we do?” Sirius whispers to him. “Do we…we go on dates sometimes, yeah?”

Remus nods, one corner of his lips twitching amusedly.

Sirius turns back to you and James, nodding decisively. “A date,” he announces. “Pick you all up in, uh, our common room at eight?”

“Eight is good for me,” James says, grinning so hugely you can’t help but smile with him. “Now, if we’re all done being weird—Y/N, lovely, could you help me with this charms homework? I’m dying over here.”

You scooch closer to him, peering at his parchment and wondering if now you can stop cataloging all the places your bodies touch, your shoulder brushing his upper arm.

“It looks fine to me,” you say after a moment.

“I know, sorry” James replies, leaning into you so that the warmth of his arm seeps into your skin. “It was a charade.”

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scuderiahoney · 1 month

Text

Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion pt 2

hockey au part 2: a lil backstory, Max Verstappen’s Pizza Theory, breakfast for dinner, and the beginnings of a physics study club. 5.7k words

warnings: mentions of sports related injuries, alcohol, and a creepy guy at a party.

You met Lando your freshman year, in an intro level writing class. Lando Norris may be great at hockey, but he was and still is absolutely atrocious at writing, which you discovered quickly when you’d been paired up with him for a partner project. He was the most talkative person in the whole class, and also the most likely to fall asleep. You couldn't blame him. It was an 8 am class, and from what you could tell, he had early morning hockey practices nearly every day.

He’d noticed the Timberwolves Soccer sticker on your laptop case, the one you’d been picking at the edges of at any available moment, trying to peel it off. It wouldn’t budge. He’d tried to use that as a common interest, a way to make a connection. He hadn’t known how much of a touchy subject it was. How could he have? The two of you barely knew each other's names.

You’d been angry at the world, at the time. Fresh off a life changing injury, still dealing with the physical therapy afterwards and stuck feeling like it was all so painfully obvious due to the knee brace on your leg. You’d only come to the stupid school to play on the soccer team, anyways. A month into your freshman year, injured and off the roster, with your chances of ever playing again looking bleak, you’d had a hard time trying to find a new reason to be there.

Before you met Lando, the soccer team had been your main source of friends. When you got injured, it all went to shit. At first, you hadn’t blamed them for the distance. You were dealing with something none of them even wanted to think about. But when you had to have surgery and none of them even bothered to text and check in, you’d begun to feel bitter. It had felt so lonely, in a town where you knew nobody, and the few people you’d connected with had slipped away. Lando had helped change that. His team had helped change that.

By the time you had to have a second surgery during winter semester, you’d been fully adopted by the entire Timberwolves Hockey team. They’d sent cards and flowers that filled up the room. Lando had visited every day, at least one of his teammates in tow. Max hadn’t been team captain at the time, but he’d taken the lead on getting a schedule set up to have people help carry your things to class for you while you were on crutches. You’d found a family, a reason to stay at the school, even without your beloved sport. You’d never be able to thank them enough for it.

Now you’re in your junior year of college and sitting in the stands at a hockey game instead of on the field at a soccer game, but the people on the ice are all your best friends. They’re losing, quite terribly, if you’re being honest. The stands are half empty. They’re just… off, today, in the second game of the week. Not quite in sync. You can see the frustration on all of them even from all the way up in the stands. Charles and Carlos are bickering on the bench. Max is skating messily. Lando looks lost on the ice, like his skates have a mind of their own. Even Oscar is struggling.

When the buzzer sounds for the end of the game, you stand up from your seat and head outside. Lily’s not here tonight- she has to work- so you’re on your own as you head toward the house. You text Max and ask if you should order pizza. He replies with an enthusiastic yes, a list of requests, and $100 on Venmo.

You have the pizza waiting, along with paper plates and Gatorade, by the time the first one of them walks into the house. It’s Oscar. He shuffles into the kitchen and looks at the pizza boxes with a wrinkled nose.

“Are you guys having a party?” He asks.

You sort of hate the way he says it. You guys. Like it’s not his house. Like it’s not his team. You know the feeling, really, of sort of just drifting along with nothing to cling onto. You tilt your head at him and slide a bottle of Gatorade across the counter towards him.

“No,” you say, and his shoulders relax slightly. “Usually after a tough game, Max likes to do some sort of team bonding. So. Pizza. He didn’t tell you?”

Oscar shrugs. “He probably did. Dunno. I was kind of out of it, and I snuck out as soon as the coaches were done yelling.”

You wince and nod in understanding. “I used to be the same way after bad games.”

You don’t even realize what you’ve hinted at until his head jerks up from where he’s been staring at the bottle in front of him. “You play sports?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. You suppose he’ll hear the story eventually, but maybe now isn’t the best time. Maybe he doesn’t need your pity party while he’s trying to have his own. Maybe it’s nice that he doesn’t feel bad for you, just confused by you and your constant presence around the hockey team.

“Used to,” you say. When his face flickers with confusion, you hand him a paper plate. “Have some pizza. Captain’s orders.”

He stands there, staring, looking so unsure.

“You can take it up to your room if you really want, I won’t tattle” you say, and he twists his mouth. “Honestly, though? I hate to watch you guys lose, but sometimes these nights are some of the best. You should stick around.”

He pulls a piece of pepperoni pizza from the box and sets it on the plate. Then he takes a seat at one of the kitchen island barstools. You hope he doesn’t hear your sigh of relief.

An hour later, the kitchen, dining room, and back deck are full of people, and they’re all complaining about the game. Charles and Carlos are at the table, no longer angry with each other, instead complaining about a defenseman on the other team. Lando’s draped over Alex’s shoulder, loudly fake crying over god knows what. Oscar’s on Alex’s other side, laughing loudly at Lando’s dramatics.

You’re pouring drinks for the three of them- you’d offered when you noticed the empty cups. It’s not a party, but the alcohol helps numb the bitter feeling of a bad game. Max is standing nearby, looking proud. He elbows you.

“Pizza theory,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

You laugh. “Yeah, Max. Another one for the pizza theory.”

He’s had this running… experiment, of sorts, for a couple years now. It started after a string of bad games your freshman year, his sophomore year. He’d pointed out that when the team had pizza together after a loss, the next game was always a win. So he’d begun trying things out and writing down the results- you’ve seen the Google document, now co-organized by Charles. Pizza leads to wins almost 95% of the time. Chinese sits at a healthy 70%. They tried Subway one time and all got so sick off of it they nearly had to cancel the next game, so they never tried again.

You’ve told him before that you don’t think it’s really about the pizza- it’s about the time spent together, and the space to be just teammates again. It’s not like they’re apologizing or talking strategy, but put a bunch of greasy food in front of them and they’ll start to unwind. Mend bridges. Build new ones, even, you think, as you watch Oscar and Alex chat, heads leaned close together.

They win the next game by one point. It’s an away game, but you watch it from your apartment with Lily and a couple other friends, grinning the whole way through. You have pizza in honor of Max’s theory. Charles nearly tackles Oscar onto the ice when he scores. When the camera zooms in on the smiles on both of their faces, your heart melts. Lando howls like a wolf at the end of the game, which is simultaneously endearing and cringe inducing. When they get back to the hotel, he FaceTimes you from the elevator. It’s full of hockey boys with big grins on their faces. Max, hair still dripping wet from the shower, his arm slung around Lando, is smiling brightest of them all.

“Pizza theory!” he yells, and you can’t fight a grin in return.

“Pizza theory indeed,” you reply.

Oscar’s head pops up on the screen. You can only see his eyes and forehead, and he seems to know, because he wiggles his brows. It makes you laugh.

“What’s pizza theory?” He asks.

“You have much to learn, young grasshopper,” Lando quips.

“We’ll show you the Google doc later,” Charles promises. “Right now, we are going to the pool.”

…..

Oscar doesn’t join in the game afterparties for weeks. You don’t take it personally, but you do wonder why he doesn’t want to celebrate with his team. You even ask Lando to make sure he knows he’s invited. Your friend just looks at you like you’re crazy, which you suppose you are.

In the end, the party he does show up at isn’t even one after a game. It’s a bye week, and Seb gives them Saturday night off of practice, so they throw what starts out as a hangout and quickly morphs into a full on party. There are people spilling out into the lawn. Lando’s in charge of the music and taking it very seriously. And Oscar is in the kitchen, chatting with Alex over their red plastic cups. It’s an odd sight, but a welcome one. You’re trying not to stare.

Instead, you’re standing nearby, listening to Charles and Carlos argue. It’s over something stupid, you’re pretty sure- it almost always is. Max is standing next to you, hiding his amusement behind his own plastic cup. The three of them have a weird dynamic. Charles and Carlos have known each other for a while- they played together on a team before they started college. Max and Charles go farther back, though. They’re childhood rivals turned captain and alternate captain. They’re all oddly competitive over who likes who more or less. It’s entertaining, to say the least.

You’re really only half listening, using them to take appropriate breaks from watching Oscar. You’d tried to convince yourself you were just keeping an eye on him at first, that you were making sure he was okay and having fun. Now, two drinks deep, you’ve stopped making excuses in your own head. You just like the way he looks in the glow of Lando’s cheesy LED light strips. They’re purple tonight. Oscar’s cheekbones are painted purple because of it. You know there are freckles there, dotting his skin. You wish you were close enough to see them.

Eventually, you leave the guys to their arguing, tear your eyes from Oscar, and start to wander the party. There’s a lot going on, and there are a lot of people in the house that you’ve never met before. That happens, at these sort of events, you’ve found. The unplanned ones end up being an odd mix of people. So when you find yourself leaning against a wall and a guy you don’t recognize comes up to talk to you, you’re not exactly surprised. When he plants his hand next to your head on the wall, though, that does surprise you.

“I hear they call you Bunny,” he says, leering over you.

You hate the way he uses the nickname, the way it sounds on his lips. He leans close, caging you in. You swallow tightly, trying to peer over his shoulder and spot any one of your friends. It’s no use. He’s tall and broad and blocking your view. You say a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that one of your friends notices your absence.

“My friends do, yeah,” you say, hoping he takes the hint. “Actually, I have to go find-“

He cuts you off when he leans closer. You press yourself back against the wall. You can smell the cheap beer on his breath. Your heart pounds in your chest. Fight or flight or freeze, time to choose.

“Come on, sweetie,” the guy says. “Be a good bunny and-“

Someone’s hand clamps down on his shoulder. That’s all you see before he’s ripped away from you. It’s like you can breathe again, suddenly, relief flashing through your brain like the purple lights in the kitchen. It’s followed quickly by concern, though, when you catch sight of what’s going on.

Oscar has him pinned against the wall, one hand on his shoulder, his other fist cocked back, elbow bent, ready to throw a punch. There’s fury on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Oscar doesn’t really fight. Not now, not at his previous team, not before then, either. You know it because Lando mentioned it when talking about how levelheaded he was. Plus, there are no helmets or pads to protect him here. Just him and his apparent anger.

“Mate,” Max says, carefully, appearing almost out of thin air. “Cool down, yeah?”

Oscar grits his teeth and clenches his jaw. You blink widely at the sight in front of you. Max’s eyes flicker to you, to the way you’re huddled against the wall, and understanding washes over his face.

“Piastri,” Max says, which seems to clear a bit of the fog from Oscar's head. The younger teammate turns to look at his captain and falters slightly. “I think you’ve proved your point.”

Oscar takes it for what it is- a thinly veiled command. Fighting on the rink is one thing. Fighting at a party they’re definitely not supposed to be having is another. Once they’re in motion, fights are difficult to stop, even harder to control, really. It'll get out of hand, so, so quickly. Seb would have their heads on a silver platter, and Max is always responsible for the actions of the team- it comes with being captain. He drops his fist and backs away slightly. Max nods.

The guy sneers at you, then Oscar, and then he spits on the floor near your feet. “Dumb bitch-“

In the blink of an eye, he’s pinned back to the wall, this time by Max, both hands on each of his shoulders. He tosses a look over his shoulder at Oscar.

“Get her out of here?” He says, and Oscar nods frantically.

He takes your hand, gentle as ever. You follow along nearly blindly as tears begin to well up in your eyes. Oscar weaves through the crowd, a man on a mission, and heads for the stairs. You dodge a couple who are making out on the top step, and he makes his way to his bedroom. They keep the rooms locked during parties- he punches his code in and ushers you inside. You nearly laugh through your tears when you see number 44, Lewis Hamilton, staring down from the poster on the wall. You wonder if Oscar knows he and Lando have matching ones.

He sits you down on the bed, reaching to turn on the lamp. He moves around the room quickly, and he tosses you a hoodie from his drawer, which you pull over your head gratefully. You hadn’t noticed until then how you had your own arms wrapped around your body, like you were hiding. You shake your hands out, flexing your fingers, trying to get the feeling back in them.

He sighs and reaches for the door. “Okay. You’re okay. Just- I’ll close the door behind me and-“

“Where are you going?” You ask, suddenly feeling panicky. You think it’s clear just from the sound of your voice, too.

“To get Lando,” he says, freezing in place, hand on the doorknob as he looks at you.

You sniffle. “Max will find him. Could you- can you- I don’t want to be alone, really, so-“

“Fuck. Shit. Sorry,” Oscar says.

Then he does the last thing you’d have expected. He sits down on the bed next to you, close enough to touch, and then wraps an arm around your shoulders. You gasp at the feeling, but lean into it, feeling a bit of relief running down your spine. His hand covers your whole shoulder.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, and you nod. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s okay,” you answer, unsure what he’s even apologizing for- almost leaving or touching you. Either way, it’s fine.

The two of you sit there in the relative quiet for a minute or two. Downstairs, the music is loud as ever. Oscar’s hand is heavy on your shoulder, and you’re still a bit stuck in fight or flight mode. Maybe you’re just frozen, really. You can still smell the beer on the other guy’s breath, can still see the anger on Oscar’s face, can still feel the panic when he was about to leave you. Your chest is tight, fingertips still buzzing.

“Were you actually going to punch him?” You ask, breaking the silence in the room, trying to find something to distract yourself.

Oscar huffs. “The first time, probably not. But when he called you a…” he shrugs. “If Max hadn’t been there…”

You turn to look at him. “Why?”

He blinks, almost taken aback that you’d even ask. “You know. Take care of the team and all.”

You sniffle. “But I’m not on the team.”

“Might as well be, all the time you spend here.”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off. “You don’t… you don’t care about me. You- why would you get into a fight for me?”

He’s quiet for a moment. You’re waiting for the canned answer. Because nobody else was around. Because I knew it’d earn me brownie points with the rest of the team. Because-

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “For making you feel like I didn’t care.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. His hand squeezes your shoulder. Your heart squeezes in your chest. You hadn’t meant for this to go this direction, and now your face is hot and your throat hurts and there are tears welling up behind your closed eyelids.

“I just… I showed up here, and everyone already has their friend groups and buddies and-“ he huffs again, and realization starts to dawn on you. “And they all love you, and they’re super protective of you. And I’ve been so busy trying to find my place here and not step on any toes, I guess I forgot to try and make friends, too, you know?”

You sigh. “I don’t bite, you know. I’m very easy to be friends with. I can be low maintenance if that’s what you need. Or- what’s Lando call it? Low frequency?”

Oscar laughs. “I know.”

You turn to look up at him, and your breath hitches when he reaches up and wipes a couple tears from your cheeks. An hour ago, you thought he couldn’t care less about you. Now you’re sitting in his room, and he’s wiping away tears with a tender touch that makes your stomach ache. His eyes trace your face, like he’s looking for injury, for a source of the pain. It’s overwhelming.

“Okay. So stop ignoring me in class? And in general?” You say, trying to redirect things.

He groans, dropping his chin to his chest. “That was- it wasn’t even on purpose, I just didn’t notice and then when I did it felt too late to say anything, so-“

You break off into a fit of giggles. He drops his arm from around your shoulder, and you miss the warmth immediately. You try not to let it show as he drags his hands over his face and echoes your laughter with his own. When you lean against his shoulder, your side pressed to his, he stays steady and lets you do it.

“It’s okay,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “Fresh start, yeah?”

He nods. You stick your hand out to him. He laughs and wraps his own around yours, shaking firmly.

“Awesome. Because I have a feeling you’re smart,” you say. “And I’m seriously going to fail our physics class unless you help me.”

Oscar laughs, and the way it takes over his whole body makes you smile. His head bumps against yours, but you can’t even find it in you to mind. It’s enough that he’s laughing around you.

“Okay, but you have to help me, too,” he says, hand still wrapped with yours, and he squeezes it. “I wanna fit in here. I mean, I’m not even from this continent, you know. So trying to find my place has been…”

Your heart aches for him. Suddenly it all makes sense. You know the feeling of being an outsider all too well. So you smile and nod and shake his hand again. “Deal.”

Lando comes and finds the two of you only a few minutes later. He knocks on the door, and Oscar opens it just a crack before he lets his teammate in. He leaves the two of you with a quick nod, seeming to understand that his job here is done. Lando takes you back to his room a few minutes later, his arm around your waist and his head knocking against yours. You pass Max in the hallway, who exchanges a look with Lando and reaches out to squeeze your arm. You’re sure he’ll interrogate you tomorrow to make sure you’re feeling okay.

Lando doesn’t even question the fact that Oscar was the one to take care of you- you suppose to him, it just makes sense. Teammates looking out for teammates, or in this case, their teammate’s friend. He just checks in on you, cleans up the last few tears from your face, and then suggests you stay the night. You don’t exactly want to go back downstairs and through the party, so you agree. You change into a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, though you keep Oscar’s sweatshirt and put it back on, too. Lando gives you the bed and pulls out the air mattress that he keeps on hand for this, and the two of you fall asleep to the sound of the bass shaking the walls of the house.

…..

The family dinner the next day is loosely breakfast themed. The guys are all dead in the morning, so you take it upon yourself to go do the shopping. And for that, you drag along your trusty assistant, Logan Sargeant. He’s one of few people on the team with his driver’s license, since so many of them are international students and never bothered getting one, and he has a car. Besides that, he’s a rookie, and he’s contractually obligated -meaning Max has politely asked him- to help you whenever you ask. He picks you up in his tiny Toyota, and then you’re off to the grocery store.

He carries the list while you stroll the aisles. “I’ve never heard of literally half the stuff on this list,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “That’s because you’re uncultured.”

You reach up on one of the shelves, snagging a jar with a yellow lid and label. He checks it off the list, brow furrowed.

“I thought this was breakfast for dinner night,” he adds, scrunching his nose up.

You turn to him, giving him an exasperated sigh. “It is. There’s just… a secondary theme. Don’t worry, my American boy, you’ll get your omelette.”

“Omelettes are French!” He cries out, huffing as you start to walk down the aisle, away from him. “The word is literally French!”

“Whatever you say, Miami,” you tease. “What’s next on the list?”

You buy Logan a coffee from a local place on your way back as a thank you for his help. In return, he tells you he forgives you for your comments about him being American. When you pull up to the house, you can see Lando and Charles in the living room. They come outside quickly, ready to help carry the bags in.

You head for the kitchen, one very specific bag in hand. When you walk in, you find Oscar, perched on a barstool, head pressed against his fist as his elbow rests on the counter. Max is on the phone in the dining area, chatting away loudly in another language. You can tell Oscar has a headache, just from the look on his face.

“You’re just the guy I was looking for,” you say, brightly but not too loud.

He blinks a couple times, then points at himself. “I’m an awful cook, if that’s what you’re implying.

You laugh and shake your head. “No, no- not that. But it’s breakfast night, right? So-“ you pull a jar of Vegemite out of the bag and set it down on the counter. “I got this. And then I went a little crazy in the international aisle of the grocery store. Oh, and I got sprinkles? The internet said something about fairy bread and I’m intrigued-“

You pause when he reaches for the jar, and his fingers brush yours. When you look up, there’s a look on his face you don’t quite recognize. It’s almost unbearably soft. You pull your hand out from under his so he can take the jar.

“You got Australian snacks,” he says, so quietly and almost reverently. “You…”

You shrug. “We talked about finding your place. One of the best ways I’ve found to do that is to tell people a little bit about yourself. It doesn’t have to be deep, could just be…”

He leans up and peeks in the bag, and his eyes go wide as he gasps, “TimTams!”

You laugh. “Yeah, could just be TimTams.”

He grins up at you, big and wide and so, so endeared. It’s a whole different side of him. You feel unbelievably proud of yourself for the idea.

Lando comes into the kitchen, hands full of bags. “Yeah, thanks, guys, we don’t need help.”

Charles is right behind him. “It’s fine, actually- hey, you bought Oscar cookies?”

Oscar hugs the package to his chest, suddenly possessive. You laugh and reach into one of the bags Lando is holding. In your hand is another package of TimTams.

“I got two of everything,” you tell Oscar. “To share and to keep.”

He smiles again, and lets the TimTams fall from his chest. “You all have to try one.”

Max gets off the phone and helps unpack things, setting out the stuff he’ll need for dinner tonight. You watch on with a fond smile as Oscar introduces all the snacks to anyone who’s willing to listen. Lando, Logan, and Charles sit with rapt attention as Oscar tells them childhood stories about all the snacks. Meanwhile, Max starts making pancake batter, and you start prepping the other ingredients.

Max elbows you lightly as the other guys laugh together. “You did good.”

You smile at him, shrugging. “We had a nice talk last night.”

Max cocks his head, smiling softly. “Before or after he tried to punch a guy out for you?”

Your face heats up at the comment, and you look away from Max and back to the food in front of you. “Last I remember, you had that guy pinned to the wall.”

Max makes a noncommittal noise. “I should’ve let Oscar punch him.”

You want to argue. To tell him that you’re not worth the trouble of that, and that he was right to tell Oscar to back off and send both of you away. But when you look up at him, the look on his face is a mixture of concern and determination. You blink, and he nudges his shoulder against yours.

“He deserved to be punched,” Max says, and you shrug. “And if you ever see him again, you call one of us. And maybe at the next party, you-“

“I’m fine,” you insist, picking up a plate and heading for the dining table. “Promise.”

More and more teammates file in, and now Lando’s the one forcing them to try TimTams, and encouraging Oscar to tell a story about being 5 and eating them in a pool, or something along those lines. You listen, even with your back turned, and hope that this helps Oscar feel a little bit more at home.

Later, after dinner, while everyone else is cleaning up, Oscar finds you in the living room. He holds out a plate. On top of it, laid out perfectly and carefully, are three TimTams.

“You didn’t try any earlier,” he says. He shifts on his feet when you take the plate. “I wanted to say thank you. Again.”

You smile up at him, laying your book on your chest. “Not a problem, Piastri. It was the least I could do, after you helped me last night.”

He frowns slightly, nose wrinkling up in mild disgust. “You know you don’t owe me for that, right?”

You nod as you pick up a TimTam off the plate. “But I can still say thank you. So. Thank you, again.”

He nods, and his face goes soft when you take a bite of the cookie and look up at him. It’s like he’s waiting with bated breath, desperate to know if you like them or not. You break out into a wide grin at the taste and nod eagerly up at him.

“Yeah, okay,” you say, eyeing the cookies on the plate. “I get the obsession.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement. One of your arms is resting on the back of the couch, and as if on reflex, he brushes his hand against yours. His skin is warm and soft. Your breath catches in your chest.

He backs away to disappear upstairs, then, with a soft “Goodnight,” that you echo, but not before you catch the tinge of red on his cheeks.

…..

In physics class on Monday, you watch Oscar waver in the doorway. He takes a stilted step towards the seat he normally sits in, across the lecture hall, and then he stops. You blink in confusion, taking a sip of coffee from your travel mug. He seems to take a breath, and then he turns- you pretend you’re not watching as he walks towards you instead. You pretend your heart isn’t racing as he walks up next to you. It shouldn’t be racing. Why is your heart racing?

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, politely, quietly, like it’s the first day of class.

You bite back a laugh when you look up at him, because his cheeks are red and he looks so, so proud of himself. “It’s open,” you say, smiling up at him.

He nods, sets his bag down on the desk, and then collapses into the chair next to you. He stares at your travel mug enviously as he slips his laptop from his bag, and you do laugh at that, at the tight furrow in his brow, at the pout on his lips. He glares at you, then, and then it all dissolves into a yawn. Something about it makes your chest ache- maybe it’s the way he pulls his hands into his hoodie sleeves. He looks like he could curl up right there and fall asleep.

“Early practice?” You ask, smiling sympathetically.

“So early,” he says, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I hate Seb.” Then he frowns, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. But I do love sleep.”

You laugh and elbow him lightly. “I’ll bring you coffee on Wednesday. As long as you make good on your promise to help me study for this exam.”

His eyes light up, and he elbows you back, smiling brightly. “Easy trade. We’re going to get you an A+.”

You roll your eyes. Before you can respond, the professor calls the class to order, and you both open your laptops. But Oscar’s there, and he’s agreed to help you study, and when you lose your place in the notes halfway through the lecture he helps you get back on track with a sweet smile. It definitely doesn’t make butterflies swirl in your stomach.

Two days later, you walk into the kitchen, paper bag in hand, and you’re greeted with bright smiles and eager hands. Lando grabs for the bag, and Alex isn’t far behind him. Even Max, who’s cooking something on the stovetop, seems to perk up.

“Hey, hey,” you scold, snatching the bag out of their reach. “Not for you.”

Lando furrows his brows. “You’re my best friend, you show up at my house, and you have food that’s not for me?”

You shrug. “It’s for my study group,” you explain, holding the bag high above your head as you walk towards the dining room.

Oscar pops his head through the doorway and smiles at you. He takes the bag from your hand. “Hi. Ready?”

Lando blinks at the two of you in bewilderment. “Um?”

“We’re gonna get an A+ in physics,” Oscar says to Lando, drumming his free hand on the doorframe.

You scoff. “I’m unsure if that’s possible, at this point. But I’m hoping to at least pass.”

You head for the dining table and sit down. Oscar already has all his study materials spread out, so you do the same. When you look up, Lando is having some sort of almost silent conversation with Oscar, talking in hushed tones and facial expressions that do very little to tell you what’s going on. You see Oscar shake his head, then nod, then shake his head again. Max is watching them, too, in amusement. You exchange a glance with the team captain, and he shrugs. His food is burning on the stove- you can smell it. Alex’s far too calm announcement of that fact breaks up whatever was happening between Oscar and Lando.

Oscar turns back to you, brows raised. “Ready?”

Behind him, Max opens the kitchen window and waves smoke out of it.

You nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You unpack Chinese takeout containers and dish out food on plates. Oscar’s teammates wander through occasionally, sticking their heads into the dining areas to say hi and ask how things are going, but for a while, it’s just the two of you. You find that Oscar’s a great study partner. He’s kind when you ask questions, willing to explain things in a way that you understand. And, when you get bored, you have him to look at. The serious look on his face, the little furrow in his brow, the soft curve of his lips when you answer a question correctly. He’s nice to look at, that’s all.

You walk home later that night feeling better about your odds on the physics exam, and better about the whole situation with Oscar. You think you might finally be winning him over. Halfway to your apartment, you pause on the sidewalk, overlooking the campus park. It would be shorter to just cut through the park. Take the more direct route. You study it for a few moments in the hazy blue post sunset light. Then you turn down the sidewalk and continue on your original route home.

Read Part 3, Losing The Dream!

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sporadicbeans82 · 2 months

Text

Life Flowed By (Seamlessly) || Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: Freshly broken up with, you struggle to move on from someone you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with.

Warnings: Maybe mentions of poor mental health and a panic attack if you squint?

A/N: I just wrote a 15 page essay on law and threw this out in the stress-fueled angst left behind from that. Unedited and really just a little blurb that I'm not sure really makes any sense. Anyway, thank you for reading!

There was a certain kind of peace that had settled upon you as you laid rotting away in your bed.

Your head was a mess, your room was trashed, and tear treks had seemed to stain your cheeks. You felt broken, shattered even, and it was a feeling that far surpassed the uselessness you’d felt when you’d picked up your first injury and had been taken out of football for months. The feeling was harsh and stinging, like a wave slapping up against the shore and eroding away at your aching heart, little by little until there was nothing left.

Yet, the fact that life was flowing seamlessly without you was both painful and, well… peaceful. You yearned to be needed and to be loved. You wanted someone, anyone, to reach out and ask you if you were okay. As you picked up your phone, however, you were reminded of the fact that everybody was fine without you.

Better off without you, even.

The images which had caused you to throw your phone to the side anyway were blown up images that you’d discovered on “X”. Leah Williamson, the woman you loved– had loved, and the woman who had loved you back for years, with her arms wrapped around some dark-haired woman with a tattoo on her forearm. The pose was inherently friendly, but the look in their eyes was anything but.

Leah’s blue eyes, so bright and curious, excited and adorable in every way, were focused on the girl like they’d once been focused on you. Leah looked at the woman like she was her whole world, and you felt like everything you’d known had been a lie.

Leah's eyes, her smile, her posture screamed happiness. She looked happy without you, happier now that you weren't beside her, and you swore you could feel the crack in your chest literally expand.

Leah looked like she was in love. You’d only ever seen her look at you like that, and it was a sensation and gaze that you’d memorized like the back of your hand. Now, it felt wrong that something that used to be so personal to you was directed at another woman.

In fact, you’d loved Leah for longer than you could count back. She’d been the first person you’d ever been with, and the one who had taught you what love was. She’d been there for all of your firsts, accepting and reassuring.

You were each other’s person.

Until you weren’t anymore.

The split had been rather sudden, or so you thought. It had happened only a week ago, spurred forward by Leah grabbing both of your hands in hers over dinner. You were in London for the first time in a month, happy to be spending time beside Leah once more during the international break.

Honestly, you’d been foolish enough to think that she was going to propose to you and get down on one knee for you. Your heart had been erratically in your chest, suddenly nervously excited for what was to come.

Instead, she’d told you that she thought the two of you would be better off as friends. Your heart broke.

In the snap of a moment, you’d gone from having the woman you’d loved and lived beside for years in another woman’s arms, and the thought pained you like nothing else. You’d lost the life you’d built beside each other and had had no time to prepare for the loss. You had yet to get used to the feeling of sleeping alone, cooking for one, speaking up into the space of your bedroom and sitting, waiting for an answer that would never come because Leah was no longer there to answer you.

Sure, you were used to living on your own, but you’d always lived with the idea of Leah, at the very least. You felt empty without her there, knowing that if you texted her, or called her, she wouldn’t answer.

You had thought that Leah leaving you would be the worst, and the last, of the situation.

You couldn’t have been any more wrong.

There were parts of Leah still living in your home in Barcelona, separated by more than a thousand kilometers. You found her in the foods that were still sitting in your cabinets, the ones that she’d liked that you’d refused to eat. Leah, ever the picky eater, something which had once made you smile and giggle as you’d made fun of her but now made you cry ever harder. You couldn’t find it in yourself to donate them or throw them away quite yet, a part of you hoping she’d be back soon to come eat them.

You saw Leah in the decorations on the couch, in the candles on your kitchen counter, and in the hoodie that was drooped over one of your stools. They were all signs that Leah was coming back, that this was all just temporary.

The photo on your phone was a sign that all of your hopes that Leah would be coming back were just that, hopes.

There was more, however, in the form of the messages. Thousands of private messages over the forms of social media you had on your phone, speculating your relationship and split, calling you names, wishing death and torture upon you for “hurting Leah”. You weren’t sure where they’d all stemmed from, but the messages were thrown towards you like arrows out of a bow, slicing and stabbing and cutting at all of the parts of you which were still sensitive and more.

The comments picked at your insecurities– you weren’t enough for Leah, and you knew that, especially now. The comments, however, affirmed that, telling you everything you’d feared for years over and over again. Leah had had to reassure you a few times throughout your relationship that you were enough for her.

Apparently, she had been wrong. Or you had been wrong to have believed her, for even a split second.

A sob broke from your lips, one of many which had been consuming the silence of your home in the past week. You’d managed to avoid going to training, having told Jonatan that you were ill. You knew, however, that your excuses would not last.

You wondered when everything had gone wrong, when Leah had stopped feeling for you what you felt for her. You wondered if she’d ever loved you, and you wondered if you’d just created a false image in your head of the happy life you two were supposed to be living.

She’d moved on so fast, and yet you were still stuck in the restaurant where she’d first broken up with you. You replayed the moment on repeat, and heard the words that Leah had uttered, foreign-sounding and heavy on her tongue, meaningful in a way that you’d never thought would be directed towards you. You felt your heart dropping in your chest, again and again, cracking and shattering with every time it was dropped… and every time Leah failed to catch it.

Another cry burst from your lips, so loud that you didn’t hear the knocks that came from your door. Or, maybe, it was just your heart beating so harshly in your head that you failed to hear anything else. You blocked out the noises outside of your sad little bubble until it was rather suddenly burst.

“Oh, niña. It’s okay, shhhh.” The voice was soft, accented in a way that was familiar to you.

You didn’t know when Alexia had arrived, but you were oh-s0-glad for the feeling of her arms wrapping tightly around your shaking body. Another sob wracked through your body as you pressed your head into the space between Alexia’s shoulder and neck. Your captain’s hand rubbed reassuringly at your back as she continued to talk to you.

She spoke mostly in Spanish, which you only understood a part of. However, her voice was calming all the same.

“Shhh nena, está bien. Todo va a estar bien, shhh.” You understood that, and everything inside you screamed that nothing would ever be okay again.

Alexia’s heavy hand rested on your shoulder, now, as she sensed you calming down.

“Quieres- do you want t0 hablar de eso? Talk about it?” Alexia’s voice was so, so soft. She treated you like cracking glass, hands soothing and voice sweet. It was what you needed in the moment as you shook your head and curled further into the other woman once more, quiet.

Alexia took your silence as an answer, wrapping her arms around you once more. It was quiet, now.

It was true.

You didn’t think that anything would be okay ever again. In Alexia’s arms, however, you felt like things could be okay, maybe. You felt like, even though your life with Leah had ended, your life without her could continue to flow by just as seamlessly as everyone else’s seemed to.

Maybe, just maybe, you could be okay.

#Leah williamson x reader #Leah williamson #woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc #harper writes

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penny00dreadful · 6 months

Text

Before He Cheats

AO3

“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.

“Is that really how you answer the phone?”

Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”

“Suppose.”

“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”

“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”

“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”

The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after.

Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.

“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”

“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”

“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”

“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”

“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”

Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”

“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”

Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”

There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding.

“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”

“How long?”

Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there.

They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard.

Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’.

They’d never really felt all that funny.

Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months.

They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over.

More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.

Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while.

But that was no excuse to cheat.

At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail.

“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”

“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone.

If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.

Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.

Didn’t make him any less pissed.

“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed.

But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.

“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”

Eddie pursed his lips.

“Please hold.”

He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out.

Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying.

He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline.

“Still there?”

“Yes. Ow, by the way.”

Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood.

“Send it on.”

Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.

Well.

Shit.

There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine.

Ugh.

Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone.

@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair

Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.

It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.

God damn.

But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing.

“Steve, is it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.

Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”

“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”

Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.

Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back.

That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.

He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos.

He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms.

He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness.

It felt wrong.

Even though he was pretty much single now.

Even if Rick didn’t know it yet.

But fuck him.

He’d find out.

One way or the other.

And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.

But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.

No tonight he would just… hurt.

And smoke.

A lot.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”

Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence.

The screen had gone black.

“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”

Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”

“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”

Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”

“Oh-”

“How do you feel about a video call?”

A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.

“A video call is fine.”

“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away.

He just didn’t want to feel alone right now.

He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now.

Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.

Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together.

He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.

Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.

He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been.

Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.

He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows.

He looked so soft.

Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.

“Eddie?”

“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “I will be.”

“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”

Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.

“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”

“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”

“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”

“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”

“Suppose not.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”

Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.

“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”

“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head.

Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in.

“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.

“I am, I guess.”

Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?”

That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.

“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”

“So we can both be sad and angry together.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.

“We can be sad and angry together.”

Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.

“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”

Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“No.”

It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.

Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder.

“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.

Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”

“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”

Eddie nodded.

That he could understand.

“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”

“Woulda hurt me plenty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”

“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”

“Just his decisions are bad.”

“Exactly.”

“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”

“To us, Stevie. To us.”

“Right, so what’s the plan then?”

“When are you due to see him next?”

Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.

But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink.

He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.

Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.

Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.

They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.

They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.

It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.

After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.

Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.

He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags.

She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person.

She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him.

Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.

Again, adorable.

Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult.

The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.

Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.

He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time.

Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.

He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.

He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way.

They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.

Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together.

Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.

Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.

Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on.

He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.

When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.

Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.

With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.

At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.

Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain.

Rick knew fuck all about cars.

Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.

Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.

A second Shania song had started up.

He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time.

He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it.

He’d failed miserably.

Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.

With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.

Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”

Okay, only a few seconds left.

Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.

The bat was fucking stuck.

Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.

“What the fuck?!”

Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.

To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support.

But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge.

Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.

“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.

“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.

Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him.

Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.

With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free.

They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.

He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”

As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.

When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.

Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.

AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #before he cheats fic #anniversary #1 year posting anniversary challenge #pennys anniversary event #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #tw cheating

983 notes · View notes

imababblekat · 1 year

Text

A Rare Sight

Prompt: A silence has befallen the ninja turtle lair, and three brothers catch an unthinkable sight of their rugged sibling, Raphael!

~xXx~

Not a voice or sound of clanging weapons resounded within the lair, just the soft hum of technology echoing from an unoccupied lab and the whir of the sewers. In such strange quietness, the youngest of the ninja turtles who had just recently returned with a new box of pizza looked around inquisitively. Seeing two of his three brothers, Leo and Donnie, standing over the other behind one of the lair walls, he quickly walked over. “Hey! What are-mumph!” Mikey was quickly silence by two hands slapping over his mouth followed by aggressive shushing. Both brothers slowly lowered their hands, Mikey doing his best to talk in a quieted tone. “I know I’m the life of the party, but why are y’all being so quiet?!” Leo pointed toward his eyes and then out around the corner to where Donnie had returned his own intense gaze. Setting down the box of triple meat and cheese pizza on a nearby rail, Mikey crept forward and shoved himself under Leo who grunted slightly annoyed. It took all of the orange clad ninja turtle to keep himself from squealing at the sight that had his brothers so intrigued. In the common area of the lair, beneath the glow of warm fairy lights, sat Raphael and you huddled close together on the couch. Both were fast asleep, a stark contrast to how Mikey had seen you two before leaving to get pizza, each one in a loud banter about who was the best DC hero and why. The way you two were so close was absolutely adorable, your head rested on Raph’s shoulder, and the fierce turtles head rested atop yours. The boys were used to the serenity of your sleeping state, but to see their brother whose color matched his typical rage of character in such similarity was absolutely baffling. Not to mention the fact that he had even fallen asleep so close to another person! Raphael was not exactly known for outwardly expressing his closeness to others, that including his own brothers. “How long have they been like that?!”, Mikey all but excitedly shrieked, both his brothers shushing him once more. Turning his attention back to the two most likely unintentional snuggle bugs on the sofa, Donnie’s nose scrunched in thought. “Could not be for long. I stepped into the lab only a few minutes after you left, and I could still hear them arguing over the recent DC movies.”, he whispered out, much quieter than his ecstatic brother. Mikey sighed, resting his chin on a propped elbow and seemingly kicking back his feet like a high schooler in the mist of day dreaming. “Dudes, I bet they’re item. Yeah, they’re totally an item~.” Above the swooning turtle, Leo shook his head, the tails of his mask swaying ever so lightly. “I doubt it. Just last week I saw (y,n) adjust his bench seat to get back at him for mocking her height again. Raph couldn’t even squeeze his big head into the space between the seat and bar.” Before any of the trio could make another comment, a noise from the center of the room had them freeze in place. As soon as they realized it was just you yawning in your sleep, they had relaxed. Curious gazes watched as you shuffled in place, snuggling in closer to the outwardly brutish ninja turtle, who turn had adjusted as well for closer proximity. Seeing Raph be so soft with your smaller form as it cuddled closer into his side, was not a sight any of the brothers thought they’d witness. Even in his sleep, Raphael seemed know to be gentle with you beside him, and despite the foreign feeling of having someone so physically close, his subconscious had clearly wanted it. Regardless, the scene of seeing their typically short fused brother so at peace in the arms of someone they all held dear brought a warmth to their hearts. Knowing that someone as strong headed as Raph, someone who often threw up a tough guy front to hide the softness deep within, found and got to experience such a wonderous moment, was all that they could wish for. With a content smile for his the brother he often butted heads with, Leo stepped back from spot against the wall. “Come on. Let’s give them some-“ CLICK! The eyes of Leo and Donnie shot open in pure surprise and horror when they snapped their sharp gaze towards the loud noise, only to find Mikey holding a camera he seemingly pulled out of thin air. Cheeks heating up in embarrassment at not realizing how loud the device would be, Mikey awkwardly chuckled. “What, they’re sleeping! There’s no way they heard right? Right?!” As if to answer the mischievous youngsters question, a groggy and familiarly angry tone reverberated off the lairs wall. “MIKEY!!!” Said turtle yelped and turned to find his two other brothers having fled with haste, leaving him to deal with the furious approaching sounds of a now awakened Raphael, all the while you sat in the background still half asleep and very confused about all the kerfuffle.

~xXx~

#this was short but hope y'all enjoyed!#i love soft raph moments <3 #bayverse raphael x reader #raphael x reader #bayverse raphael #bayverse tmnt x reader #aged up tmnt #fluff #human reader #imababblekat’s writing

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metalhoops · 1 year

Text

Steve was going to die crouched behind a picnic table in an unfamiliar town. That’s how he saw it, anyway.

He’d been looking for Robin. That’s where it all went wrong. She hadn’t shown up for work at the video store that Saturday morning. It wasn’t like her. The two had just started at their new job and it was a goddamn Saturday. Steve had been run off his feet all day.

At the end of his shift, he couldn’t help but look for her. Since the incident with the Russians, both he and Robin had their days where they would disappear, but they’d always let the other know they were safe.

Steve never used to be a worst-case-scenario kind of guy until everything with The Upside Down. All day he’d felt panic rising in his stomach. What if she’d been taken by demogorgons or kidnapped by secret government operatives?

He drove the BMW past all of Robin’s familiar haunts. She wasn’t at home or at Steve’s place. The school was closed, so she couldn’t be at band and she’d have asked him to drive her to the movies.

That’s when he started to check the places he didn’t want to find her. The Junkyard, Lover’s Lake, and the remains of the Hawkins lab. She wasn’t there. It was then he recalled a conversation they’d had last Sunday.

“All right, I’ve got some more evidence,” Robin had exclaimed days before, and Steve had known exactly what she was talking about.

“Well don’t hold out on me, Rob,” Steve pushed, pulling out a notebook he should’ve been using to keep track of people’s late rental returns.

Instead, it harboured two columns and a series of tallies, an ode to their Scoops Days Steve was secretly proud of thinking up. ‘Vicky likes boobies’, proclaimed one column while the other argued, ‘Vicky doesn’t like boobies’. He’d never said he was mature. Plus Steve got a kick out of watching Robin squirm. They’d been trying to work out if Vicky was a viable crush. Steve thought she was but so far the columns were an even split.

“Last night I saw her car parked outside the fairgrounds in the next town over. Any other day of the week and I wouldn’t think it was weird, but Saturday night, it’s a spot, you know?” Steve didn’t know.

“A spot?” He echoed.

“Yeah, you know? Like how skull rock is ‘a spot’ but it’s only for certain kinds of people.” Steve’s brow pinched together and he nodded.

He could imagine what Robin was implying. He’d added another tally to his favourite side and thought nothing more of it until he’d run out of places to look for Robin in Hawkins. It was a Saturday night. It was a long shot, but he’d take it.

Steve drove to the next town over and was surprised to see a smattering of cars at the fairground. There were a handful of boys in their twenties sitting on picnic benches around a boombox playing music Steve was vaguely familiar with. Then there were a couple of girls sipping beer and passing the bottle around.

If you didn’t know, it’d seem like any other half-assed party but if you knew what to look for, you’d know you were in the right place. Steve didn’t know when he’d become the kind of person who knew what to look for.

One of the guys had his hand tucked into the back pocket of another’s jeans. Then, of course, he saw his fair share of coloured hankies, carabineers and key rings. Sometimes, Steve actually listened when Robin talked to him about that kind of stuff. He figured it must get lonely, not having anyone to talk to about those things. He wanted to be a good friend even if he couldn’t relate to Robin. Steve liked girls. That was the beginning and end of it.

He studied each of the partygoers' faces and felt his throat begin to constrict. Robin wasn’t there. Where the hell was she? This had been the last stone left unturned. Now what?

Steve’s heartbeat was a kick drum, threatening to crack his ribs in two as it burst from his chest cavity. His vision began to tunnel and a ringing in his ears swelled to a crescendo as he crouched behind an abandoned picnic table.

What if something happened to her? How the hell was he meant to find her?

Steve felt a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up with a start, almost leaping out of his skin when he saw one of the boy’s faces inches from his. The space was dark, illuminated only by the moon and the intermittent flickering of car headlights.

“Hey. You’re okay. Just breathe with me for a second, alright?” The boy instructed.

His voice was vaguely familiar, but Steve couldn’t string together a coherent set of thoughts. His body was focused on not keeling over. He tried to copy the overdramatised rise and fall of the boy’s chest.

“There you go,” the boy soothed as Steve’s breathing evened out.

“Guessing, it’s your first time here. Don’t worry too much about it. The first time I went to a gay bar in Indy I had a panic attack in the bathroom.” Munson. The voice belonged to Eddie Munson, Steve’s brain supplied at last.

They’d gone to high school together. Though Steve wasn’t sure if the guy had graduated. He vaguely recalled Eddie hating all jocks on principal and Steve had tried to give the boy a wide berth because of it. Turned out he was the type to hang out at gay bars. Okay.

There was no way Eddie recognised Steve. He was being way too nice to him. Maybe Munson was a good guy. Steve hadn’t taken the time to find out back then. Steve hadn’t really been a good person. He was trying hard to be better.

“No one’s tried to push you into anything, right? Because that’s not what this place is about. I might not be able to kick anyone’s ass, but I know a guy who could,” Eddie commented, confirming Steve’s suspicions. He was a good guy.

“No. I’m good... I’m looking for someone,” Steve breathed, hoping maybe Munson would’ve seen Robin.

Then again, if Eddie hadn’t seen her, he’d be outing Robin, which Steve knew was a shitty thing to do. Eddie spoke before Steve had the chance to decide what he was going to say.

“You see him around?” Eddie asked, moving to sit beside Steve on the grass, scanning the crowd.

Oh. Eddie assumed Steve was... That was fair. He was at ‘a spot’. He guessed he could work with that.

“I think he stood me up,” Steve covered, looking for an excuse to get out of there.

“His loss,” Eddie mused, placing a hand on Steve’s knee. Oh, no. Flirting.

“I should get out of here,” Steve stuttered, jerking upwards.

“Right, shit. Sorry. Too strong,” Eddie spoke half to Steve, half to himself as he stood up and dusted grass from his jeans.

“Don’t let me spook you. Seriously. You look like you need a night out. I can sit all the way over there and we can pretend this never happened,” Eddie proposed.

Steve was dreading the ride back to Hawkins, knowing if he went home now, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Steve surprised himself by shaking his head.

“No, I don’t want you to... just... don’t go. This isn’t something I do. I could use the company.” Steve was surprised at the words as they left his mouth. In what world did Steve Harrington want to hang out with Eddie Munson?

“Alright, no funny business, I promise. I’ve got some beer in a cooler. We could keep things all PG-13,” Eddie proposed, leading Steve to where the aforementioned cooler was stashed on a free picnic bench.

“I’ve got to drive back home, but I could stay for a bit,” Steve remarked, sitting down beside Eddie’s cooler on the tabletop.

He tried to focus on the distant music and the sound of passing cars. His thoughts kept returning to Robin. He dug his thumbnail into the table, scratching at the splintering wood as he tried to stop his mind from reeling.

“Is your place far from here?” Eddie questioned, sitting beside Steve and lounging back on his elbows, glancing up at the night sky.

“That wasn’t a preposition, by the way,” Eddie clarified quickly.

“I was just trying to make conversation. Christ, man. I’m shit at this.”

“Shit at what?” Steve questioned absentmindedly, glad to have a distraction.

Eddie grabbed a strand of hair and coyly hid a smile behind it.

“You know. Talking to pretty guys.’

It wasn’t like no one had called Steve ‘pretty’ before. They had. But they’d always done it as an insult. He’d heard the word, ‘pretty boy’, spat through gritted teeth a handful of times, but no one had ever made it sound like a good thing, like something Steve wanted to be.

It was strange. Steve hadn’t been lying when he said this wasn’t something he usually did. He wasn’t gay. He didn’t hang out with men in a way that walked the tightrope between platonic and flirtatious, but he’d gone on a lot of dates with girls, some that’d been far worse than the way his night was panning out. Steve was surprised at just how comfortable and familiar the setting felt.

“I’m from Hawkins,” Steve admitted, feeling Eddie’s keen eyes on his profile.

“Small world. Me too.” Everyone knew everyone in Hawkin’s. It’d only be a matter of time before Eddie placed him. Then what? He couldn’t imagine Eddie would want to hang out with him for long after that.

“I came here with a buddy but I’m pretty sure he’s screwed off by now, you mind giving me a lift? Think we could both use the company.”

Steve was always driving the kids around, that’s what he was good at, and it’d be a distraction. Steve nodded before he could think any better of it.

“I can do that. You say the word,” Steve muttered and followed Eddie’s eyes to the stars.

“Soon, give me a few minutes to enjoy the view”.

That was the one good thing about small towns in the dead of night. The stars could really shine, painting their way across the sky, all milk and moonbeams. For once, Steve wasn’t thinking of the things lurking in the shadows.

He could hardly make out the features of Eddie’s face, but he couldn’t help but think, if this was like the dates he’d been on with girls, this was the point where he’d kiss them. It’d be romantic. At heart, Steve had always been a romantic.

A car pulled up close to the two boys, bathing them in yellowed light. Eddie’s face turned to look at Steve. His eyes swelled wide with recognition. He’d expected Eddie to be shocked, this was the last place Steve would expect to find himself on an ordinary day. What he didn’t anticipate was Eddie jerking back as though Steve had physically hit him, his body tumbling backwards off the bench and onto the grassy lot.

“Holy Hell, Harrington,” Eddie choked out, as he tried to pull himself back to his feet, staggering. Right. Steve should’ve known this wasn’t going to end well. He should just leave now.

“I thought your voice sounded familiar. Christ. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. Here? Holy shit.”

Steve stood, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, trying to eyeball the best path to the Beamer, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but there.

“I’m going to go...” Steve began but was cut off by a wild flailing of limbs and Eddie’s hand encircling his wrist.

“Sorry. Shit. Sorry. Steve, Stevie. Wait. You surprised me.” Eddie placated, his eyes swollen wide as he looked at his fingers around Steve’s limb. It was as though his body had grabbed Steve of its own volition.

Steve couldn’t help but notice the muffled conversations from the surrounding tables had quietened.

“I get it if you don’t want to take me home, but I won’t tell anyone... you know. Cross my heart, dude.”

Steve hadn’t been worried about that until now. His heart rate sped up again. He wasn’t queer but if rumour got around. His dad would kill him. Steve wasn’t sure that the statement was hyperbolic. Eddie must have seen something in Steve’s face, because his grip on his wrist tightened.

“Promise I won’t. Look, somehow I’ve managed to collect your little flock of ducklings into my D&D club at school. They think you’re a good dude. That’s good enough for me.”

Steve trusted Eddie. He shouldn’t. He told himself he was dumb for doing so, but his instincts won out.

“Well, come on then, if you still want a ride,” Steve grumbled, pulling Eddie along with him to the BMW.

The two talked on the ride back to Hawkins, but all of it was inconsequential. It was just what Steve needed. Eddie rambled about the kids, something he and Steve had in common. It was the only thing Steve knew they had in common besides the fact Eddie thought they were gay, or at least that they both liked men.

It should’ve been awkward talking to Eddie, knowing the guy would’ve slept with him if given the chance, but surprisingly it wasn’t. Maybe that’s how Robin had felt about him at the beginning of their friendship. No. Don’t think about Robin. She was safe. She had to be. Steve would know if she wasn’t.

“What happened to you, Steve?” He heard Eddie ask out of the blue and realised his fingers had been gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned bone white.

Steve didn’t know how to answer the question in a way that wouldn’t spur on deeper probing, so he said, “Nothing”. The reply seemed to tell Eddie everything he needed to know.

“I guess I grew up,” Steve supplied lamely.

“I wasn’t talking about how you don’t hang out with the same dicks from school. You stopped doing that before you graduated. Don’t ask me how I know that. Don’t make me say it. You’ve always been pretty, is all I’ll say. This is different. You never used to look so... haunted.”

What was Steve supposed to say to that? He didn’t say anything, just turned the radio up and wondered how Eddie Munson, of all people, saw right through him.

When they pulled up out front of the Munson’s trailer, Eddie paused, looking Steve over.

“Hey, Harrington? You still all on your lonesome in that big old mansion of yours?” Steve rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Well, would you look at that? Me too. I mean, minus the mansion. Want to not be alone, together?”

“I’ve got work in the morning,” Steve deflected as he found himself switching off the car and following Eddie up to the front door.

“Won’t bother me. I sleep like the dead.”

Steve was a horrible sleeper, not that it would matter. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping that night. Maybe in the morning if he couldn’t find Robin he should call Nancy. She knew everything about missing friends, about knowing something was wrong and yet feeling like you had no one to turn to. He wished he’d been that person for Nancy years before but he hadn’t and there was nothing he could do about that now.

Steve found himself tucked into the corner of Eddie’s bed. The two boys had stripped off their jeans but kept their shirts on. He kept comparing the night to dates he’d had in the past. He kept thinking how easy it felt to do the same with a man. Steve liked women, he knew that, but he was beginning to entertain the idea he might be able to like men. Couple that crisis with his worries that Robin was somewhere alone and hurting and you had one messy knot of emotions Steve didn’t know how to unpick.

“Night, Stevie,” Eddie muttered, as his hand made its way to rest on his inner thigh. His breath smelled of alcohol.

“This okay?” He clarified. Yes, Eddie was a good guy and Steve wished he’d known that sooner.

“Yeah,” Steve admitted because it was okay, much to his surprise.

When Eddie did eventually fall asleep, he rolled over, keeping one hand on Steve’s thigh and slinging the other over Steve’s chest, somehow ending face down in the crook of Steve’s neck. He smelled of beer and smoke. It was the longest night of Steve’s life.

True to his word, Eddie remained sound asleep as Steve extracted himself from under him come morning. He paused to jot his number down on a notebook beside Eddie’s bed, surprising himself once again. He hadn’t gotten or wanted a second date with anyone in months. He wasn’t sure this was classified as a first date, but it had him wanting more of whatever it was.

Steve parked outside Robin’s place, surprised to find her waiting for him in the driveway, unharmed and applying her makeup with the help of a compact mirror as though it were any other day.

“You look like crap,” Robin noted as she slid into the passenger seat.

Steve could cry. Steve would’ve cried if it hadn’t been for years worth of emotional repression.

“You weren’t at work yesterday,” Steve said by way of explanation.

“Yeah. I went to Indianapolis for my aunt’s birthday. I told you I was going last week.”

Oh. Steve had forgotten. He nodded, then sniffed pathetically, pretty sure he was about to cry. Robin was fine. She’d never been in danger. She placed her hand over his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Dingus, were you worried about me?” She teased, trying to lighten the mood. He shook his head, a blatant lie.

“So worried you didn’t go on one of your crappy Saturday night dates or do you have another story to tell me about how you stuck out with a smoking hot babe... again.” That brought Steve to his second crisis.

“Kind of.” Robin raised a brow.

“Kind of? Steve Harrington, since when are you coy about the people you date? Dude, when it comes to me you have no boundaries.” She was right.

“I think I went on a date with a guy,” Steve admitted, not meeting Robin’s eye as she let out an inhuman squeak.

“I was gone for one goddamn day and that’s the day you decide to date a guy?” She gasped, smacking his arm.

In retrospect, it was pretty funny. Steve’s urge to cry was suddenly stifled as his body rocked with laughter.

“I think I owe you one, actually,” Steve admitted, knowing he wasn’t going to hear the end of it.

Read Part 2 Here

#steddie #steddie Drabble #drabble #ficlet #steddie ficlet #first meeting #pre season 4 #au #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #robin buckley #bi steve harrington #fluff and angst #steve x eddie #Metalhoops writes

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lumosinlove · 16 days

Text

Vaincre

June part v

You and me Sunday driving

Not arriving, on our way back home

Finn couldn’t remember the last time it had been just him and Logan for more than a couple hours.

Leo had seemed content if not exhausted when he’d let them drive him to the airport to meet his parents. The fact that he had only packed his weekend bag made something settle in Finn. He still felt guilty about the way he had reacted. He was better than that now. He knew he was.

While they were saying goodbye in departures, Logan and Leo wrapped up in each other, Eloise had pulled Finn aside.

“Finn, honey,” she’d said. “We’ll take good care of him. He’ll be back to you in no time at all.”

Finn had smiled. “Don’t I know it.”

Eloise had just put a hand on his cheek. Those blue eyes saw right through him, just like her son’s. “I know my Leo. I know him better than anything or anyone in this world. And I know Logan’s going to be busy, but you give him a week at home with me, you let me take care of him, and then I swear, on my most secret sauce, he’s going to want you.”

Finn hadn’t known just what to say.

Finn opened his eyes in Logan’s New York bedroom. His realized that his head didn’t hurt. His shoulder ached a little but with none of the sharpness. Usually when he woke up he had to clear all the pain away with gentle blinks, water, and small rolls of his shoulder and neck.

Finn had taken Logan out to dinner last night and watched him laugh at his jokes and sip red wine. There was just something about Logan with a delicate wine glass in his hand. They’d curled up in bed and they had talked until they were too tired for complete sentences.He felt clear.

He felt good.

It only got better when he turned his head to look at the source of the soft, even breathing beside him.

Logan was beautiful in sleep. He always had been. His head, as usual, had migrated off of his own pillow and onto Finn’s good arm. Finn slept with two barnacles, and maybe sometimes he woke up sweating, way overheated, but he wouldn’t move them for the world. Careful not to shift his arm too much, Finn turned on his side and settled a hand over the dip of Logan’s waist. He was at the height of his strength right now, the season had done all of its work on him. Finn drew a thumb along the cut of muscles that slanted down from his hip bone, disappearing below his pajama pants.

Almost immediately, Logan stirred, thick eyelashes moving as he began to wake up.

“You know what I remember?” Finn whispered.

“Mm,” Logan said, still half-asleep. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

“Every morning when I would wake up early for my run. You know, back at school. I would keep my eyes closed for a second. Because some of my mornings were good, but some of them were great.” He reached out for a perfect curl of Logan’s hair and gently pinched the end of it between his fingers. “Guess what the difference was?”

Logan turned his face so that his mouth brushed Finn’s skin. Eyes still closed. Face still the picture of peace.

“I’d look over across the room at your bed. Sometimes you’d have your back towards me…Those were good mornings, don’t get me wrong. You have a very nice back.”

A small smile overtook Logan’s face, even though he was still lulled with closed eyes—Finn knew his voice did that to him.

“But sometimes,” Finn said quietly. “You would be facing me. And I’d get to just lay there and look at you for as long as I wanted. Sleepyhead.”

Logan inhaled slowly and opened his eyes.

Green.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Finn whispered. “It’s you and me today.”

Logan shuffled closer to him, freeing Finn’s arm as his head shifted to his chest. Finn curled his arm low on Logan’s back, dipping his fingers below the band of his pajama pants—Leo’s. They had pooled around his feet as he walked around the apartment last night.

“Take you on a date,” Logan said, voice deeper from sleep—Finn didn’t know why that happened but he hoped it never stopped. “Show you the city.”

Finn laughed. “You show me New York City.”

“Ouais.”

“Hm.” He traced a finger down Logan’s spine and felt him move into the touch. “Whatever you say.”

“I know it better now. Than you.”

Finn smacked him on his hip. Logan just smiled and pushed his face into Finn’s neck. He said something unintelligible in French.

“Par-don?”

Logan pulled back to look at him. “I say I love you in my bed.”

“Oh. Well, I fucking adore you, you know, wherever.”

Logan pressed a kiss to Finn’s mouth and then nestled back down against his chest, close to the thump of his heart.

Finn smiled.

“Are you smiling?” Logan asked from his nook.

“Yeah.”

“What?”

Finn didn’t answer right away. He slid his fingers through Logan’s hair. “Because I got you.”

Logan looked up at him, his chin propped on Finn’s chest.

“Nice not having the sling in the way,” Finn said, rubbing his thumb over the high of Logan’s cheek. “What’s that look you’re giving me?”

Logan just kept looking at him.

“What?” Finn laughed. “Hold still.” He brought his thumb up to ever so gently touch Logan’s eyelashes. When he pulled it away, there was a single, dark lash on the pad. “Make a wish.”

Logan looked down at the eyelash, then reached out and took it from him. With it balanced carefully on his own fingertip, he let it fall against Finn’s own cheek, a small, dark line among all the freckles.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Finn said, but his heart had picked up.

“Ouais.” Logan pushed forward, settling his weight on Finn’s chest but keeping it off his shoulder, and kissed him again. “Good morning, Rouge.”

“Morning.”

Logan pushed forward more to kiss Finn again, hand appearing from beneath the warm comforter to tangle in Finn’s hair. “Stay here for now.”

“Hm?”

“We stay here for a little longer.”

“Good,” Finn said, following it with a playful bite to Logan’s lower lip.

Logan made a slightly disgruntled sound. “My back hurts a little.”

Finn frowned. “Oh?”

“Not bad, but can you…” Logan gave Finn’s foot a little kick and Finn laughed.

“Yes, sir.” Finn reached down to dig his fingers into the hard muscle of Logan’s lower back. Logan groaned and dropped his forehead down against Finn’s chest. Finn smiled. “There?”

“How did you know? Fuck, that hurts—non, non, it’s good, keep, keep…”

“I know everything about you,” Finn whispered—his best attempt at creepy. Logan just went limp against his chest and let him ease the tight knot. “Jesus, Lo. Put some heat on that.”

“Ouais,” Logan said. He lifted his head again. “You do know everything about me, don’t you.”

Finn smiled. “Yeah. Now, what else can I do?”

Logan’s eyes brightened up a little. “I want to kiss you.”

“Oh, you’re looking for a little make out sesh?”

Logan wrinkled his nose. “Sesh.”

“Little college action.”

“Action?”

“As though we were in our old dorm,” Finn said, giving the mattress a thump with his good hand. “This bed’s bigger than that one.”

“Hm,” Logan laughed softly, looking over at the spare mattress. “Leo.”

“He’ll be home soon.”

Logan nodded. “Imagine how much time we would have spent just…in one of our beds. Back then.”

“Maybe we would have pushed the two of them together,” Finn said.

They could have. It sent a little thrill up Finn’s spine just thinking about it. Anyone who would have walked in their room would have known they were each others.

Finn tucked a curl behind Logan’s ear. “And we’re just all settled in. There’s no practice tomorrow…First day of summer. No homework.”

Logan rolled his eyes but he was grinning. “Percy’s gonna knock on our door and ask if we want to go to the bars, and we’re gonna ignore him…” He dragged his lips over Finn’s jaw to find his mouth again. “Because you’re such a good kisser. And I can’t stop.”

“Huh.” Finn’s hand smoothed over Logan’s hip, pushing the elastic band down closer to the swell of his ass. Smooth, tan skin.

“I never want to stop,” Logan said. “And Perc finally leaves us alone, and we get food delivered and we watch that show you love—what…I don’t know but we’re not watching anyway because I can’t stop kissing you…” His kisses were hard and relentless and Finn was on fire. The most perfect burn, whiskey-like. “You’ve been mine since the first day.”

Finn felt his brows draw together as he kissed Logan. He loved him talking like this. Everything in him loved it.

“I didn’t really expect you to play along,” Finn said.

“Not playing,” Logan said. “This is our life now.”

“Oh,” Finn whispered. “Oh, Lo…”

“Go to a bagel shop this morning?” Logan mumbled.

“I love the way you say bagel.”

Logan bit his lower lip and pulled gently.

“Bah-g-elle,” Finn whispered and hitched Logan’s leg up further over his hips. He knew it would stretch out his back nicely—and he knew he was right when Logan hummed happily. He moved his hand from Logan’s ass and dug two knuckles against the knot in his lower back.

“Yeah,” Logan breathed. “B-ay-gal.”

“No, don’t say it like me, say it like you.”

Logan bent to mouth over Finn’s mending shoulder. “Bagel.”

“Hm, yeah.” Finn snorted. “I really want Le to call and we’re just like, bah-gel, bay-gal, bah-bay.”

Logan laughed probably too hard at that, but Finn could tell they were both a little giddy. Logan was filling his chest up with happiness that was going to spill right out of him. Once he started laughing, he found that he couldn’t stop. Logan was shaking against him, hiding his grin in his neck. It got Finn going all over again.

Logan leaned back, smile wide. “Bah-bay.”

Finn put a hand over his eyes. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. Bah-bay.”

“It’s not even funny,” Logan said, which sent them both into silent laughter again.

They quieted slowly, temples leaning together. Breathing in sync. This. This had never been in question—this part of them. Even in the times when Logan had taken Finn apart, told him no, told him nothing…Finn had never felt like they’d lose this part of them. Maybe that didn’t make sense, but it was true.

“You gonna win a Cup for me?” Finn whispered. He traced patterns on Logan’s back. A one and a zero. An L, E, O.

Logan nodded. “Mhm. Wr—r…” He sighed when Finn smiled. Finn felt kiss-stupid. “Rather win it with you.”

“Oo-wa-rather,” Finn whispered, and then took Logan’s chin between his fingers and melted Logan’s protests right out of his mouth. He kept Logan in place, kept the kiss gentle, tracing his tongue along Logan’s bottom lip. “I love everything you say.”

“How ‘bout them apples,” Logan mumbled and then cracked himself up.

Finn pressed his smile right into Logan’s cheek, making him turn his head to be caught in another kiss. “Mfh—okay, you’re just sticking your tongue in my mouth now.” Logan got back at him by licking a strip up his neck. Finn’s voice cracked when he said, “Weirdo.”

The bagel shop was one Finn hadn’t been to before. Logan had found it. He’d known Finn would love the black and white tiled floor and he had been right. Finn had scored them a table outside while Logan waited for their orders. Finn watched him through the window. He had taken two Advil and was stretching out his back when their order number was called. Finn caught the way the girl who handed him the bags looked at him. She and her friend had been watching the flex and stretch of his arms, too. Finn smiled to himself. Ha-ha-ha.

“Extra capers. Crazy.” Logan said when he sat down. He had two iced coffees as well. Finn’s was black, Logan’s was a light, light brown with milk. There were three sugar packets on the table and Finn watched as Logan ripped them open, popped the lid on his cup, and shook them in. Logan’s hair was still wet and he wasn’t wearing a hat. He had a sort of rust colored shirt, almost pink, and Finn couldn’t really stop looking at him. It was so different from his dark grays and greens. The breeze ruffled his curling hair.

“You look…” Finn said, then bit his straw between his teeth.

Logan arched a brow, unwrapping his bagel. He stuck a finger in his mouth when he got cream cheese on it. “Quoi.”

“Is that shirt new?”

“Ouais…” Logan looked down at it. “What’s wrong?”

Finn shook his head quickly. “No, no…You look good, baby.”

Logan didn’t look convinced and Finn laughed.

“No, I just never see you wear that color. I thought it was Leo’s. It surprised me. And—yeah, I just think you look good.”

Logan looked down at his bagel, his cheeks going a little pink to Finn’s delight.

“I went shopping,” Logan said grudgingly.

Finn’s eyebrows rose. Logan didn’t like clothes shopping. At all. Any other type, fine, but the kind where someone looks at you and tries to help you? No way. “Really.”

“Yes.”

“Really.”

“Yes.”

“Really…”

Logan huffed. “Finn.”

“With who? Alex?”

Logan took a big bite. He chewed. He took a sip of his coffee.

Finn gasped and slapped the table with his hands. The metal thrummed beneath his touch. “Oh. So Luke Deveaux gets to take you shopping but when I try—I see. Okay. I see.”

Logan was biting back a smile and Finn turned his chair sideways, away from Logan. Logan laughed and reached across the table to catch his hand.

“Non. You can take me shopping if you want.”

“Well, I don’t see a purpose to it now.” Finn was having fun with this. He angled his chin completely away from Logan and yanked his hand away with a flourish to pick up his coffee. “I see how it is.”

Logan groaned through his laugh. “Fi-i-nn.”

“He takes you shopping, he takes you running…”

With a scoff, Logan scooted his chair back. He stood over Finn. Finn put his sunglasses on.

“When Luke and I go shopping, we buy clothes,” Logan said. He leaned down, one hand braced on the back of Finn’s chair. Those green eyes didn’t let Finn look away from him. Not when he was this close. “We try on our different outfits and we’re in and out within the hour.”

“Good for you two. Very efficient.”

To Finn’s surprise, Logan turned to the side a little and sat himself right in Finn’s lap, all the warm, heavy strength of him. His arm went around Finn’s shoulders, the other flat-palmed against his chest. He could probably feel the way Finn’s heart picked up when he leaned in close and brushed his lips over Finn’s jaw. God, Finn hoped those girls were watching. Ha-ha.

“When you take me shopping…I want to pull you into the dressing room.” A soft kiss pressed to Finn’s neck. “I want to lock the door behind us and I want you to fuck me right there…” Another kiss. “In front of the mirror…” A gentle bite and, behind Finn’s glasses, his eyes slipped closed. “Where I can see how good you look when you’re about to make me come. When you’re trying to keep me quiet…”

Finn’s hand snapped to Logan’s hip. Logan smiled—Finn felt it. “You’d be so good at keeping your voice steady when someone knocks on the door…” Logan put on a slightly higher voice. “‘You finding everything okay?’” Logan pressed his mouth harder against Finn’s throat. “You’d be so good at it. ‘Oh, thanks so much…We’re fantastic.’”

“Logan.” Finn was starting to get hard in his shorts, pressing up against Logan’s thighs. He eased his palm over those strong thighs, fingers creeping up the inner seam of Logan’s shorts. Logan was sporting a semi and he knew Finn could see.

“So, please,” Logan said. “Take me shopping.”

And just like that, Logan was off of his lap. Finn swung his chair back inwards with a groan, shuffling his legs underneath the table. He took a sip of his iced coffee then held the cup to his cheek. “What the fuck.”

Logan returned to his own chair much more smoothly. God, if he had looked good in the dark pink a second ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked with that color flushing his cheeks. Finn needed a second. He picked up his food and tried to get his insides to stop throbbing.

“If it was one of those doors,” he said around a bite, “that don’t go all the way to the floor—”

“That would be so embarrassing,” Logan said, then grinned. “For the person who caught us, I mean.”

Finn just shook his head. “You liar. You’d be so nervous.”

“Try me.” Logan took another bite of his bagel and Finn swore, he swore, Logan made a show of licking the cream cheese. Logan looked at him all the while, green eyes playful. Finn didn’t know what unimaginably hot thing was going to come out of his mouth next. Did he want to go to the bathroom right now? Did he want to go home? Did he want to go shopping? Because Finn would. He would.

“Bah-bay,” Logan said.

Finn laughed so hard he dropped his coffee.

They had cleaned out their lockers. They had said see you at the lake to Remus’ parents. They had had one last dinner with as much of the team as they could—minus any New York stragglers—Kasey, Finn, Leo… They closed up their Gryffindor House. Sirius’ eyes had followed Remus around as he filled out his checklist. They had a final breakfast at their diner spot before hitting the road. Julian had been standing on the wrap-around porch, waving both of his hands as they pulled into the driveway. The grill had been going, his father raising the tongs in salute.

“Mm,” Sirius said, turning off the engine. “I’d kill for your dad’s steak.”

Remus laughed as he popped the door. “You know, I think he’ll just give it to you easily enough.”

After everything, those first two days felt like a fever dream. Afternoon swims. Sirius’ smile in the campfire light, laughing at something his mother had said. Sirius, wrapped up in the old-as-time blankets, snug in the bed Remus had been sleeping in since he was a child. Julian and Sirius tossing a football on the beach. Playing street hockey in the driveway. Watching people recognize Sirius in the little harbor breakfast spot—and, Remus had to keep realizing, watching them recognize him. Sirius’ big hands around a sharpie as he knelt to sign a little kid’s shirt.

Remus was now in the kitchen mashing up avocados for guacamole while his mom mixed a pitcher of margaritas. The dining room table was covered with place cards, flower combinations, and menus from the restaurant down the road. In just over a month, they’d bring their grills to the house for pulled-pork. They’d mix huge bowls of coleslaw, they’d chop up watermelon and make it into ice cream during dinner. Remus hadn’t had any time to worry about these things, and then suddenly he’d had nothing but time. Thank God for Hope Lupin.

“So, Lily and James are arriving in a week, right?” Hope said. “And Harry of course.”

“Yeah,” Remus said. “Sirius thought Harry would love the beach.”

“Lakes are good for babies,” Hope said. “Nice shallow water. Easy to watch. I always loved bringing you and Jules here. It’ll be sweet to see little Harry again.”

The back door slammed and Remus looked up at the sound of Julian’s laugh. He saw his mom smile.

“Shoes off!” she called. “No sand in the house, please! Or you’re doing the sweeping!”

There was a scuffle of shoes coming off and hockey sticks being leaned against walls, and then Julian bounded into the kitchen. Sirius followed a moment later.

Remus didn’t even think Sirius was making a show of how he leaned back against the refrigerator, sweating. “Jesus, Lupin.”

“Yes?” Remus said.

“Non,” Sirius panted. He jerked his chin at Julian. “That one.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Julian Lupin? Did you beat up my boyfriend?”

Julian swallowed a long drink of water and raised his eyebrows right back. “You mean your fiancé?”

Sirius laughed, using his t-shirt to wipe his face. Remus let his eyes catch on his stomach for a moment.

“Yes,” Remus said. “I mean my fiancé.”

“Then yeah,” Julian said. “I did.”

“He did,” Sirius agreed. When Julian wasn’t looking, Remus raised an eyebrow, and Sirius’ grin gave him away.

Sweetest boy on Earth.

“I’m going to take a shower if I have time?” Sirius said, eyes on Hope.

“You certainly do,” Hope said. “We’re on lake time, honey! Woo!”

“D’accord.” Sirius paused as he passed by Remus and settled a hand on his hip. “Salut, mon amor.”

“Hi,” Remus said.

“Be back soon.” Sirius pressed a kiss to his neck and disappeared towards the stairs.

“Re, will you take the clothes in from the line and bring them upstairs? I think it might rain a little tonight. Julian, finish up that guacamole, hon.”

“Kay,” Julian said. “Can I have a sip of a margarita?”

“You can have a baby one because you’re my baby,” Hope said.

Julian rolled his eyes, but he kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mama.”

On his way out, Remus kissed her other cheek.

Outside, the breeze did smell a little like rain, but the sun over the lake felt like summer. The wind was warm. The small nets were still set up for Sirius and Julian’s game of hockey. Remus walked around the side of the house towards the lake and found the clothes swaying in the breeze. A few of Sirius’ t-shirts hung together. Worn Lions ones from seasons past. Remus took one down and held it. He remembered this from Sirius’ second season. He brought it to his nose. It smelled like Sirius and like the cottage. Like the lake air and the detergent his mom used here.

Remus could have wrapped himself entirely in that smell.

He heard the shower cut off right as he reached the top creaky step. He set Julian’s clothes on his bed, his parents’ on theirs, and brought the basket into their own bedroom. He set Sirius’ shirts on the bed to fold. He was laying out a sweatshirt that hadn’t quite dried when the Sirius came in with a towel wrapped around his waist. Like always, he stubbed his toe on the frog-shaped metal doorstop.

“Merde,” Sirius cursed.

“You think you would have learned by now.”

Sirius nudged the heavy metal frog a little under the old dresser. “Me too.”

Sirius stole a shirt off of the pile Remus was folding. Remus watched quietly as he dropped his towel and shook it through his wet hair a few times. He’d gotten it cut before they left. He had a bit of a tan line, the part of his neck which his hair had covered was pale, but the sun would change that soon. The summer would change change many things. Sirius’ body still held every ounce of muscle built up throughout the season. Remus knew what each ridge and valley felt like. His shoulders and back looked like heaven in the light coming through their bedroom window. That would soften over the next months.

Sirius turned once he’d pulled his shorts on and laughed. “You keep staring.”

Remus looked down and smiled. “Oh, I just like your haircut, that’s all.”

“That’s all?”

Remus eyed the way the t-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders. “You’ve got play-off shoulders going on.”

Sirius stepped towards him. He tossed the sweatshirt Remus was holding away and settled his hands on Remus’ hips. “So do you.”

Sirius’ kiss was heavy and slow. They hardly broke before a new one sent Remus’ head spinning.

“Remus!” Julian’s voice called up the stairs.

Remus didn’t reply. He wrapped Sirius up tighter against him. The bed creaked as Sirius pressed him against one of the posts. The wooden carved flower dug into the small of Remus’ back but Remus didn’t care. He felt like they hadn’t been alone in decades. Regulus in Gryffindor, his family here…

“I wish…” Remus panted as Sirius leaned down to kiss his neck. “You’re so…” His eyes slipped closed.

“Re-mus,” Julian called. “Mom won’t let me have a margarita and chips until everyone’s here.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Remus whispered, sounding almost forlorn to himself. With all his strength, he gave Sirius’ chest a little push. Sirius barely moved and Remus caught a flash of his smile when he dragged his mouth along Remus’ jaw to kiss him again.

“Remus!”

“Yeah—one second!” Remus called down, hoping he sounded at least a little normal.

“It’s been like fifty seconds!”

“On our way, Jules!” Sirius called—then he went right back to kissing Remus. Long, deadly-good kisses that made Remus feel like he was about to lose his footing. That was a good move, though. Julian never talked back to Sirius.

“Okay, cool!” Julian called back, much more happily.

Sirius laughed softly. Remus pushed his hands under Sirius’ shirt and rested his forehead against his shoulder. He spread his palms over Sirius’ stomach before sliding them around his hips to his back.

“Is this helping you?” Sirius asked. He was standing there almost patiently, dark eyes amused.

“Not even a little, but it’s nice anyway.”

Sirius took Remus’ hands in his and kissed his knuckles. “Allez. We’re holding up dinner.”

“What took you so long?” Julian dug his chip into the guacamole and sighed happily as he chewed. At least someone was satisfied.

“Sorry, I was getting dressed,” Sirius said. “Re was just putting away the laundry.”

“Jules,” Lyall laughed. He’d come in from the garden. “Leave them alone.”

Julian seemed to think this over. “Do you guys want to play another hockey game after dinner?”

“Sorry, Jules, Sirius is all mine after dinner.” When Julian stuck his tongue out at Remus, Remus did it right back. Beneath the table, Sirius took his hand.

#Vaincre lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #remus lupin #sirius black #sports au #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #finnlo

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sorchathered · 3 months

Text

Pride, Prejudice, and Flyboys

Pairing- Bob Floyd x reader

Warnings- Smut, minors dni, language, drinking.

Summary- Bob can’t stand Siren, she’s been the bane of his existence since he met her…but maybe it’s more?

My second post for ibffm 😈 enjoy! Thank you @attapullman for making January all about our favorite WSO!

————————————————————————

He’s pretty sure he actually hates her. His mama always taught him to never say that about anyone but right now he can’t be bothered to be gentlemanly. Siren is by far the most annoyingly perfect person he’s ever met, effortlessly funny, excellent at her job, beloved by everyone she meets; the list goes on and on and Bob wishes someone had at least one bad thing to say about her. She’s even a morning person for god sakes, bouncing into the training room most mornings with coffees for the whole squad, oozing sunshine as she greets everyone.

No one gets it, Bob has always been such a kind soul but ever since Siren joined the squad as Hangman’s WSO Bob’s attitude has been abysmal. They went to Top Gun together and the naval academy, most everyone knew they’d had some sort of love/hate relationship but couldn’t ever seem to figure out just what it was that caused such a rift. She had always been so nice to him but Bob just couldn’t reciprocate. She was perfect. At everything. It all came easy to her, and it brought out something inside Robert Floyd, jealousy? envy? He couldn’t put his finger on it he just knew it was unfair, to her and himself. Comparing himself to someone else was something he’d always done, whether it be someone’s good looks or ability to handle social situations but not once since he’d come back to Fightertown had he questioned his abilities in his job. He’d been slowly becoming more sure of himself here, letting his guard down and integrating himself with the squad, finally feeling like he belonged. Then he stepped into work two weeks ago and there you were, perched on top of a table laughing with Phoenix and Hangman like you were old friends. Phoenix had called him over excitedly, something in your demeanor had caused her to think you two would be fast friends but it didn’t take much to realize that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

He walked up to them anyway, feet feeling like lead and nausea rising up in his throat as you whipped your head towards him. “Bob! Come on over and meet Bagman’s new back seater!”

“Oh we already know each other” you’d replied coolly, and the shift in energy was palpable.

“Siren” he said curtly, nodding in your direction but refusing to look you in the eye.

“I feel like I’m missing something here? You guys date or something baby on board?” Hangman’s gaze was curious, clearly enjoying the drama.

You both sputtered in shock, Bob simply flipping Hangman the bird and turning on his heel to find his seat with what could only be described as disgust on his features.

“Absolutely not! We just uh, we knew each other during the academy and top gun the first time, I don’t really know what it is, he just never really seemed to like me.” You looked down at your feet now, wishing the floor would swallow you up.

Drills went well the following week, you and Hangman seemed to make a perfect team, it had been suggested you become his WSO after the uranium mission, Maverick had been impressed with his flying from the beginning but knew Hangman needed to learn to be a team player. That’s where you came in, and to say the two of you were thick as thieves was an understatement. It was like you and Jake had known each other all your life, and almost sibling like camaraderie between you.

———————————————————————

Friday finally comes and everyone gathers at the Hard Deck, celebrating your joining the team and the end of a long week of training. You are the life of the party, playing pool and laughing over whatever show you and Fanboy have been binging, seamlessly fitting into the group like you’d been there all along.

Bob is beyond annoyed. He tries to fix his face but the permanent scowl that resides there won’t budge; he’s never had much of a poker face and if he’s honest he doesn’t really give a shit if he’s hiding his disdain. Do you just get along with everyone? Everyone seems to constantly be singing your praises and it’s like nails on a chalkboard having to constantly hear your name as the topic of conversation. Phoenix startles him from his thoughts as she sits down next to him with a beer, following his eye-line to confirm he is in fact staring at you.

“Ok Bobby what the hell is the problem? I’ve never seen you like this, Siren enters the room and it’s like someone shit in your cereal. She seems super nice to me so tell me what I’m not seeing?” She and Bob have come so far the past few months, gone from teammates to best friends and she is thrown for a loop seeing him in such a state.

“Do you really not see it? I mean come on she’s annoying as hell.” Phoenix doesn’t buy it, giving Bob a chastising glare and he finally folds. He knows better than to fight with her like this, she always wins anyways.

“I- ugh fine. She’s just always rubbed me the wrong way. I’m sure she’s fine truly, but she was constantly talked about in our academy days, she set the standard and no one was ever as perfect according to our instructors. It just feels like I’ve been competing with her all of my navy career and to have her here when things have been going so well felt like the rug yanked out from under me. I don’t want to hate her, but every time I see her I’m reminded of all the things I’m not and it drives me insane.” He slumps down in his chair clearly embarrassed and Phoenix feels an overwhelming amount of sympathy for her friend.

“I think if you actually tried to get to know her you’d be surprised to find that she thinks the exact same thing about you.”

Bob looks at her like she’s slapped him, shock written all over his features. What the fuck did she mean? You felt like you were in constant competition with him as well? He rolled his eyes at her after looking at you across the pool table, there was no way in hell he was feeling an ounce of sympathy for you tonight. You were a top gun nepo baby, your father’s name synonymous with the likes of Maverick and Iceman. Everything had come easy to you so why the hell Nat would think anything different was beyond his reasoning.

“I appreciate the need to keep the peace Nat, but I can’t say I buy it.”

She just shook her head and let it be, she’d truly never seen Bob like this before and it looked like it would take a miracle to get the two of you to sort out your issues.

As the night begins to wind down you make your way over to Bob’s table, a little liquid courage had you deciding it was now or never; time to find out why the soft spoken man everyone loved seemed to hate everything about you.

You plop down into the seat next to him, bringing him to the present as he looks up with a groan when he realizes it’s you.

“Can I help you Siren?”

Eyes the size of saucers at the tone in his voice you suddenly wish you could evaporate into thin air, why did he always have to be so damn mean? You’ve never been anything but kind to everyone, it just didn’t make any sense for him to treat you with so much vitriol.

“I need to know what I did.”

“Pardon?” He looks up with a grimace trying to process the situation at hand.

“What did I do Floyd? Seriously, I have never been anything less than friendly to you all these years and you treat me like I’m shit on the bottom of your shoe. What gives?! Just tell me what the hell I did so I can apologize and maybe we can get past this.” You’re shaking a little and your voice had carried more than you’d planned, noticing that your group behind you seems to have taken an active interest in what’s happening between you two.

“I’m not doing this.” Bob lets out a dark chuckle, eyes full of poison sliding from his seat, making his way to the door.

You look around behind you at your squad, beet red with embarrassment and frustration. How dare he?! God Robert Floyd was such a prick and you weren’t giving him the opportunity to treat you like this for one more minute. Slamming your beer down on the table you stalked after him towards the door, following him out into the parking lot.

“You don’t get to just walk away from me like that asshole! I asked you a question and I want a damn answer.”

He stops short in his tracks, was busying himself with unlocking his truck when he spins around to face you.

“God you really can’t just let this shit go can you? You really want to know why?”

“Yeah I really do”

He runs his hand over his face now, malice clearly etched in his features.

And then he pulls you forward and slams his lips to yours.

You were pretty sure you were dreaming…or maybe you’d died because this certainly couldn’t be happening in real life right? Robert Floyd, bane of your existence for almost a decade had you pressed up against the side of his old GMC Sierra, thigh wedged between your legs while you ground down on him and let him lick into your mouth.

You couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to, he felt so so good and the noises and moans the two of you were making were bordering on obscene. You thanked whatever diety was watching out for you that he had parked in a dark corner in the lot, crashing waves muffling most of the noises coming from you both. You arched your back to press closer to him and he began his descent from your jaw sucking a mark onto your neck as your hands threaded through his soft brown hair and tugged. God he was so hot, how had you never noticed he was so hot? He smelled amazing and he was an insanely good kisser, but of course you’d always thought he was perfect at everything; part of the reason he frustrates you so much if you’re honest.

He pulls back to look at you, has the gall to look smug at the fact that he’s worked you up like this and you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Your foreheads are pressed together, and you feel him whisper against your lips

“Y/N you need to stop me now if you don’t want this, otherwise get your ass in the truck, we’re going back to my place.”

You feel so dumb right now, he’s rendered you speechless and all you can do is nod at him and slide into the bench seat of the truck. Shit, you really are about to go home and let Bob Floyd fuck you senseless.

———————————————————————

The drive isn’t long, maybe ten minutes but you can barely focus on anything but his hand on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into you, just close enough to tease but not enough to give you what you want. He pulls into the drive roughly, slamming the truck in park and yanking you out of the door, hands roaming everywhere as he tries to herd you into his little townhouse.

Once he has the door closed it’s a frenzy of teeth and tongue, pawing at each other to try and get the other naked as quickly as possible, you barely make it to his bedroom, self control non existent. He drops you down onto his mattress and you pull him forward, rubbing your body all over the length of his, desperate for any kind of relief for your aching core. He slides a hand up to press into the column of your throat as he spreads hot filthy kisses up your chest towards your mouth.

“You drive me absolutely insane, can’t even sit in the same room with you without wanting to fuck the attitude out of you, s’that what you need pretty girl? You need me to fuck you stupid?”

You can’t help but let out a pitiful moan and buck up into him, you never thought for a minute you’d be in this situation with him but now that you have him like this you know you’ll never want to do anything else.

“Tell me what you want Y/N, you’ve always got so much to say but now you can’t even string together a sentence? You poor little thing you need this so bad don’t you? All you gotta do is ask baby I’ll give it to ya.”

You close the gap between the two of you, slotting your lips against his and sliding your tongue into his mouth, rubbing your needy wet pussy all over his thigh and whining at the feeling, so good but not quite what you need.

He presses your hips down into the mattress stopping your ministrations and reaching up to catch your chin between his fingers.

“I know you heard me if you want it sugar you ask for it, I’m a patient man we can sit right here all night and I won’t touch you again until you’re begging for it.”

Chest heaving, pupils blown out full of lust and hair splayed out across his pillows he thinks you may be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, but he’s just fine teasing you until you give him what he wants.

You look up at him ready to be defiant but fail miserably, his perfect hair is a mess, glasses askew and his body feels like heaven on top of yours.

You refused to fold so easily, he’d been mouthing off at you all night so it was time he got some of it back, sliding your feet to the mattress over his thighs you flipped him onto his back on the mattress, your manicured fingers gripping his chin, forcing him to look at you.

“You’re so bossy Bobby, maybe you’re the one who needs to be fucked stupid hmm? I wonder if any of those little tag chasers you’ve brought home have ever taken control of you like I can? Think you can keep your pretty mouth shut and follow orders? Lay still like a good boy and let me ride your cock?”

He blinks up at you now, he had a smart ass remark all ready to go but the second you ground your pussy down on him he was putty in your hands, couldn’t begin to articulate how hot is was to let you take the reigns, so he simply put his hands behind his head and grinned up at you.

“Go ahead baby, use me. I’ll be good for you.”

That’s all you needed, sliding him between your folds and teasing him by grinding your clit against him. He was big, and your thoughts scattered thinking about how next time you wanted him in your mouth, God you hoped there was a next time.

He had said he’d be good for you but he didn’t account for just how good it would feel, attempting to stay quiet by balling his hands into fists and biting his lip until it felt like it would break the skin.

He might go insane from this, he’s used to relinquishing control in the air, but in his intimate life he’s always demanded the upper hand, the need to be in charge overpowering the ability to submit. But here you are, stripped completely bare for him and riding him so slowly damnit he’s never been more turned on in his life. He’s not blind, you’re absolutely gorgeous; he’s seen the way guys check you out but the rivalry between you both was always so palpable it never occurred to him to want you like this.

You’re playing with your nipples and grinding into him slowly, moans spilling from your lips and Bob knows he can’t take much more of this, needs you splayed out so he can fuck you like he wants. He watches you close eyes, throwing your head back and he takes the shot, gripping you by your hips and flipping you both again. You cry out as he snaps his hips harshly into yours, grabbing at both your wrists with one of his big hands to pin them above your head, leaning in to catch your lips with his, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. He planned to make this quick and dirty, a one time thing to get you out of his system but the more he hears your little moans and whines and kisses you while your pussy pulses around him, he lets his mind wander to how it might be to have you like this whenever he wanted, lets the domesticity of having you in his bed and his arms make him impossibly harder. Why didn’t you two get along again? He couldn’t find himself coming up with one reason that made sense as you let him abuse your pussy with his deep thrusts. You couldn’t hold a coherent thought anymore, clenching down on him after he hit that spot that had you seeing stars you suddenly gushed on his cock, surprising the two of you as he slowed his movements, slack jawed and in awe of the fact that you’d just squirted all over him.

“Jesus Christ such a good girl, pussy’s fucking drenching me” he ground out, yanking you up by your throat to suck on your tongue as you moan and gasp into his mouth, you’d never done that before for anyone; not even when you were getting yourself off and you wanted it to happen again and again. “Oh Bob” your cried out, pushing yourself down on him to meet his hips, the two of you working in tandem to please each other, somehow the situation evolving from a one night stand to something more. You knew now that you’d had a taste of him like this you’d be addicted, how could you ever be satisfied with anyone else when he was fucking you like his life depended on your pleasure?

You wrap your legs around his waist and begin to grind into him, neither of you caring much about control anymore. It feels too good and the need is so strong to chase your release. He’s pulling you close to him now, pressing your chests together and sucking a mark at the spot behind your ear, whispering praises about how good you feel, and you can’t think of anything but how beautiful he is and how badly you want him to cum for you.

You’re close again, so close to the edge and he can feel it, leans in to kiss you once more, lightly wrapping his hand around your throat. You hold his gaze as he tells you he wants to come with you, the pressure from his slender fingers restricting your airway so deliciously euphoric. You can’t say anything, too scared of the implications and the intimacy of it all so you just nod as he runs his hand between your sweat slicked bodies to rub tight circles against your clit. Black spots cloud your vision as you arch into him, calling out his name in pleasure like a prayer until you begin to go hoarse; he groans as you clench down on him and he thrusts one more time with a shout as he comes for you.

You both lay wrapped in each other, lost in thought trying to catch your breaths. All too soon he pulls out but before he heads for the bathroom he stops to push a sweaty lock back from your forehead, and you can’t help but catch his hand and kiss his wrist. He grins that stupid crooked smile at you as he makes his way to the bathroom and you collapse back into the sheets.

“Oh my fucking God” you think to yourself with a jolt; “I’m in love with Robert Floyd.”

———————————————————————-

While you come to that startling realization, Bob is having his own meltdown once he gets the bathroom closed. What the hell had he gotten himself into here?! He’d had it all planned out on the drive over, the both of you would just fuck the tension out and try your best to get along for the duration of the time you had here. He hasn’t accounted for just how good it would be, how when the time came for you to separate all he’d wanted was to wrap you in his arms and let you snuggle into him. He didn’t think he’d catch feelings.

Stepping out of the bathroom he catches you trying to shrug yourself back into your clothes, digging around for your phone in the bottom of your purse and you startle a little, straightening up and giving him a little smile.

“I uh, sorry I don’t want to be in the way so I’m just gonna grab an Uber and head home.” You look lost, not like your typical bubbly persona and his heart clenches in his chest knowing you are worried he wants you to go.

“You- you don’t have to go honey, ‘sides I think we might need to sit down and talk about all this.”

He sticks his hand out for you to take and leads you back to his bed to sit down and you take a shaky breath, trying to look anywhere but at him. He hears you whisper something, and turns your face to his hoping you’ll say it again.

“I asked you uh… what does this mean, what are we doing?” you said quietly, nervous energy radiating from you now, you’ve never felt off your axis quite like this but then you’ve also never realized you were in love with your enemy before. Was he really your enemy though? Or had he always just been out of reach? You knew you’d admired him, wished you could be friends but now- now it was something else entirely.

His expression was soft, something truly beautiful in the openness he was emanating as opposed to the wall he always put up when you were around. Taking both your hands in his he sighed, he still couldn’t quite find the words but anything was better than continuing to pretend he didn’t want this.

“I think I’ve had this all wrong y/n. I had it in my head that I hated you, that you were someone to compete against and I set myself up to be a complete asshole to you so I didn’t have to admit what it really was. Some of it was jealousy I’ll admit it but it really was so much more. I want you, more than just one night and I know, I know I have been an absolute piece of shit but if you’ll let me I’ll spend as long as you’ll let me trying to make it up you.”

You feel lightheaded, heat sending tingles up your spine and your body moves of its own volition, surging forward to kiss him. The clarity of it all is blinding, how could the two of you gone this long and not seen it? You were perfect for each other, wasted so much time riling each other up when you could have been doing this. You feel a giggle bubble up from your chest as you pull away from him now, the corners of your eyes pricking with tears as he quickly presses kisses to wipe them away.

You spend the weekend wrapped up in each other, ordering food and watching movies, letting Bob fuck you on every surface of his house and covering you in what feels like love.

————————————————————————

Monday morning he drives you back to your apartment to shower and change before work, which results in the two of you nearly being late because you can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other. Stepping into the hangar to take your seat you’re greeted to a sea of shocked faces, rather than making snide comments or cutting eyes at each other the two of you are in great spirits, even going so far as to let Bob pass you a granola bar from his pocket because he’d been two busy railing you earlier to eat breakfast.

Hangman is the first to open his mouth, because of course he can’t leave anything alone for too long. “What the hell is going on here? Is it Opposite Day or some shit? You two are being way too nice to each other and it’s freaking everyone out.”

You just grin at him and pat him on the arm, “We talked out our issues Jakey, it’s all gonna be smooth sailing from here.”

Phoenix doesn’t buy it for a second, pulling Bob over by his ear, deciding that she’ll force it out of him.

“What kind of twilight zone level bs is going on? Friday night you two were at each others throats and we didn’t see you again after that…oh my god. OH MY GOD!” She shrieks out and Bob clamps a hand over her mouth, begging God to suddenly make his best friend mute for the rest of the day, ears and cheeks turning bright red as he shushes her.

“Nat goddamnit I’ll tell you everything but I swear to God you have got to keep your shit together.”

He makes her wait until lunch, wants to be away from prying eyes and ears knowing it would spread like wildfire if the wrong person found out.

“I fucking knew it! I knew it wasn’t just some rivalry bullshit, oh my God are you guys together now? Do you love her? Ahhh this is so amazing!” She squeals as she digs into her salad, bouncing in her chair like a little kid.

“First of all I don’t know. It feels like we are, but I’m leaving that in her court. I’ll do whatever makes her happy. Second of all that’s none of your business woman let me figure this out on my own time, it’s still new. When I need a wedding planner I’ll let you know” he says with an eye roll and affectionate shove to her shoulder, he truly does love having her in his life, even if she is a serial meddler.

He catches you from across the mess hall, you were stealing fries off Jake’s plate and laughing over one of his stupid jokes. Feeling his gaze on you made you feel warm all over, you looked up at him and winked in his direction and just like that he was a goner. How had he missed out on this for so long? He’d had you on every surface in his home and he was still so insatiable, could barely hold it together when you texted asking if he could come over after work to have dinner.

———————————————————————

Pulling into your driveway after what felt like the longest day of training so far, you began to peel off your flight suit and top leaving you in just your bra and underwear, scrolling through the delivery app for something to eat when you heard him knock at the door.

You swung it open to let him in, turning on your heel to check what time the food would be in.

“I ordered from that Thai place we had lunch at a few weeks ago, got a little bit of everything so I just figured we could share.”

“That sounds like heaven baby but I think I need a snack before it gets here.”

And that’s how you ended up spread out on your kitchen island, Bob’s face buried between your thighs as he ate at you like his life depended on it. You had come undone more than once and he refused to let you go, you tasted so sweet he couldn’t get enough; lapping at you nearly had him getting off just knowing he was pleasing you. You felt too sensitive, every nerve in your body on fire but unable to stop bucking up into his face begging for him but not knowing what exactly you were asking for. He pulls back to grin up at you, beautiful blue eyes full of mischief as he lets out a chuckle at how far gone you are from just his mouth.

“Come on baby girl, give me one more, you sound so pretty I know you’ve got one more in ya. Taste so good sweetheart, I need you to cum one more time.”

He dives back in and the damn breaks as you felt your third orgasm wash over you, release soaking his face and he finally lets you up, helping you off the counter and into his arms. You felt boneless, legs trembling and barely able to stand as he kissed you, running his hands all over your body and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You grazed your hand along the inside of his flight suit tied at his waist and he groaned deliciously into your mouth.

“Hold on baby, let’s feed you some dinner and then I’ll let you ride me ok? We’ve got lots of time to make up for but I want you to have enough energy to handle it”

He was such a cocky son of a bitch but you knew now he could back it up. You’d sat in his lap on the couch while you shared dinner, taking turns feeding each other and watching a movie. He didn’t know if he could ever let this go now, everything about you had him obsessed and despite manhandling you not even an hour ago he was nervous as hell to seek out the answers he needed. What if this was just a friends with benefits situation? He knew he’d been an absolute ass to you and couldn’t blame you if you just wanted to fuck around but he so desperately wanted more.

You’d noticed how quiet he had gotten, movie forgotten as he was spaced out lost in thought. Nudging him with your elbow you laugh at the mock annoyance on his face, he was so beautiful and you still couldn’t believe the two of you were really here now.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours Floyd? You seem like you’ve got some heavy thoughts you’re struggling with.”

“Ah- it’s nothing sugar, I just spaced I promise I’m here it’s ok.”

You don’t believe him for a second, so you decide to prod him a little more. You pull his face in with both hands and kiss his cheeks, then nose, then press a soft peck to his lips.

“I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be baby, pretty please tell me what’s wrong? You bat your eyelashes at him and he melts into a puddle. You’ve got him totally wrapped now and he’s pretty sure he’d burn the world down to keep you looking at him with that sweet look on your face.

“I know we haven’t talked much about what this is and I don’t want to pressure you but I don’t know that I can be as casual about this as I’d hoped. I’m pretty sure I’m hooked on you y/n.”

Oh shit, you were definitely swooning. Like old timey love story swooning. How had he not realized you were crazy about him too?! You wound your arms around his neck and giggled as you pressed kisses all over him.

“I’m completely and totally yours Robert Floyd, now make love to me all night. Let’s catch up on all that time we wasted being idiots when we could have been together all along.”

He had to laugh at that, the two of you really had been complete fools, he’d been an arrogant ass, too prideful to admit that you were everything he’d ever wanted. Later he’d take you apart all night if you’d let him and then bring you coffee in bed before work the next morning. Fill your car up with gas, make sure you drank enough water and love you like you’d never dreamed you could be loved. It hadn’t started as some fairytale love story but it was turning out to be something even better, something lasting. Something more.

Tagging-

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@pinkdaisies1106

@angelbabyyy99

@nouis-bum

@nervousnerdwitch

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@floydsglasses

@floydsmuse

@sailor-aviator

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

#top gun maverick #bob floyd #international bob floyd fucks month #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun bob #bob floyd smut #bob floyd fan fic #robert bob floyd x reader #bob fucks #pride and prejudice

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

you can write a fic where wednesday misses the reader? i love your writing and story

It was almost laughable, if not, pathetic for Wednesday as she witnesses co-dependency happen in real time before her eyes whenever she joined you and Enid in the quad. The way that the students would quickly manoeuvre their way around each other to their respective groups, as though in attempts to evades chance encounter with the inevitable solitude they’d all one day face upon their death beds. They feared the innermost voices of their consciousness and it’s council that it almost made Wednesday smile. Almost.

Wednesday was known to be anything other then obsessively needy and clingy, however as of recent she had found herself developing symptoms of co-dependency; How tragic. She would find her eyes actively search the swarm of students for you, her soul would sing falsetto unprovoked when she did meet your eyes, feeling the warmth as it rushed through her and her entirety at the implication of being within your presence once more, physical contact included or just sitting in comfortable silence. She would brood within the dark crevices of her room until the day she would hear the knock on her door, followed by the meticulous melody that was your voice calling out to greet her.

Enid and Thing watched from the vibrant and colourful spectrum of the shared dorm as Wednesday would stare longingly out of the wide window as rain splattered against it’s pane like translucent blood. “Is…is she moping or just being her usual self, I can never tell.” Enid said to the disembodied hand who did the equivalent of a shoulder shrug with his fingers. “You don’t know? Aren’t you like her relative or something?” Enid received a series of frantic tapping and another shrug. “Well your useful.” Enid sighed as Thing gave her a thumbs up.

Enid knew what was up with Wednesday but just didn’t want to say it so openly, knowing it was only going to get shut down by the Addams. You had been away for awhile now running a tutoring class on behalf of the teachers for those students who were behind on lessons or finding certain subjects difficult to grasp. This unfortunately meant that your time with Wednesday were cut short throughout the duration of the week except for the weekends; Today was Friday. Enid did herself and Wednesday a solid and looked at the time and saw that by this time you would’ve finished the session and were most probably on your journey here.

“What time is it?” Wednesday asked, not once taking her eyes off of the massive widow in front of her. “4:30pm.” Enid replied and Wednesday sighed, closing her eyes before opening them again to discreetly look over her shoulder and at the door for a good couple of seconds before returning to look out the window solemnly. Time was an accursed entity to Wednesday, it forced you both part for longitudes periods throughout the duration of the week; only to bring you back together for two measly days? Pathetic.

If Wednesday had it her way she’d be sitting next to you during these tutoring sessions, running a stricter regime in making sure that the necessary information would stay stuck in their thick skulls, instead of coming back daily to waste even more of your time that could’ve easily been spent with her! However the teachers asked you personally to see to that, not her and for that Wednesday damned those teachers for their conspicuous plan in separating you apart from one another. Their misery shall be slow and torturous, Wednesday would make sure of that.

Whilst Wednesday was contemplating her gratuitous revenge plans, a knock sounded from the front door and Enid got up to answer it; knowingly of who was on the other side as a smile was brought up by to her lips as she turned to look at her dorm mate. “Wednesday,” she sang, catching her attention as she raised her brows unamused at her, “guess who.” Enid then opened the door to reveal you stood in the doorway. “Heya my poison powder.” You said as you entered the dorm, crossing the room to hold Wednesday in your arms tightly as you felt her stiffen in your hold before melting.

“What kept you so long, you left me waiting. Again.” Wednesday said bluntly but you could tell that she was happy to have you with her once again that you didn’t her seemingly cold words to heart. “Would you believe me if I said that Ajax stoned himself again but in the hallway this time, so I had to move him to safety elsewhere?” You inquired playfully whilst gauging her unimpressed stare. “Didn’t think so.” You say softly as you pressed a kiss between her brows, taking note of how she seemingly pressed herself further into your touch, burning her head under your chin and into your neck as though she were a cat.

#wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday imagine #Wednesday x you #Wednesday fic #Wednesday fanfic #wednesday x reader

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roosteraloha · 4 months

Text

for worse

jake seresin x reader

wc - 5.5k

warnings - ANGST !! blood, injuries to reader, mentions cleaning up said injuries, arguments + discussions of chronic pain

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

a/n - this is pure angst. i have no clue where this came from but I was so inspired and this just wrote itself.

reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated!!

It’s been a long few weeks for the both of you, not having much time to spend with each other. Having two very busy schedules often meant that one of you missed the other, and heartbreakingly, it was commonly by just a few minutes. Jake’s schedule was vastly more complicated than your own, with the possibility of receiving deployment papers or new missions, occasionally with almost no advance notice. Thankfully, the pair of you hadn’t had to worry about working through the complexities that came with being in a relationship during deployments yet, something that Jake was especially grateful for. He saw himself spending the rest of his life with you, if you let him, but knew a poorly timed deployment had the potential to ruin the longevity of your relationship. That is something that nags at the back of Jake’s mind each and every time he climbs into his plane.

Jake was deeply relieved to be heading home. The entire week had dragged, countless new training exercises and protocols had made for a physically and emotionally draining week. Heading home to spend the weekend with you was exactly what he needed. Still a relatively new relationship, Jake was uncharacteristically nervous, he was eager to take the next step, moving in together, but was keenly aware of just how flighty and generally anxious you were. Moving too fast with you would be heartbreaking, simply because he knew he could lose you, far easier than he gained you.

Pulling into his driveway, the dark house is highly concerning to Jake. Frowning, he checks his watch, and then his phone, acutely aware that he could’ve taken longer on base than he planned, only to find it was 6pm, the agreed upon time. He had text during his lunch break, a quick conversation that informed you that he’d be a bit later than anticipated, and your immediate response reassuring him that you’d be there anyway. What had happened in those six hours that you couldn’t let him know you wouldn’t be here to greet him.

A quick sweep of his house, and no sign of you. No keys, no shoes kicked off by the door, every room empty. Alarm bells start ringing, Jake knows you. You’re not one to not follow through on plans, you’d always text, call or anything you could to get the message through, that’s one of the first things Jake loved about you.

A rather rapid drive over to your apartment is not the calming result Jake was expecting. Actually, it’s far more alarming to have no response at the door, finding it void of you, not even tucked up in bed for an after work nap, like you had been known to do. Jake was half expecting to find you asleep in your apartment, but it being empty, that was far more concerning. It wasn’t like you to just disappear.

On the way back to his house, Jake swung by the café, wondering if you’d picked up an extra shift, and had just forgotten to let him know. His heart clenched when you weren’t there. Your colleagues told him they’d seen you leave at 4pm, your usual finishing time on Fridays, so you could spend extra time with Jake over the weekend. They too were concerned, the usually confident aviator, someone they’d grown to love having around, now having cracks in his carefree persona, his worry for you nearing panic.

Jake’s shoulders felt heavier when he returned home to no signs of you. The worry of not knowing where you were, weighing down on his heart, and his mind.

It was now 7PM.

Jake was still alone in his house, with no communication from you, and all he wanted was to know if you were okay or not.

With still no word from you, Jake decided to head to bed. While he was deeply concerned for you, he also knew he couldn’t stay up all night, he needed to sleep if he was going to look for you.

Trudging up the stairs, Jake’s heart grew heavier and heavier. His concern for you was growing with every hour that passed without any news from you. Exhaling deeply, Jake turned to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway to look at his bed, the side where you should be sleeping.

Brows furrowed, Jake’s eyes scanned the room again. Something was off, something was different from usual, a fact he knew due to his military level of attention to detail.

The right-hand bedside table. Your side.

A slight glisten caught Jake’s eye.

Cautiously approaching to get a better look, only to trip over something, stumbling and grabbing the bed to stay upright. Muttering grumbles under his breath, Jake looked down to see what he tripped over. A pair of boots. More specifically, your boots. His eyes widened at the realisation, eyes darting to the bedside table. Your keys. He knew they were yours from the cowboy hat keychain, the one he bought you from his last trip to Texas, something to remind you of him always.

Heart pounding in his chest, Jake rushes around the end of the bed, calling out for you, turning on countless lights, searching anywhere for you in the diminishing daylight.

The panic in Jake was rising, you weren’t downstairs, and he only had a few rooms left upstairs to check. A slight thud from his en-suite bathroom had him rushing back to his room, nudging the bathroom door open with caution, unsure of what he would find.

From the warm glow of the bedroom lights, Jake can see the outline of your body, curled up on the cold bathroom tiles, knees pulled tight to your chest, head resting against them. That relief he felt was short-lived.

Something was wrong.

Blinded by the immense relief of finding you, Jake pushes the door open further, a forceful shove which causes the door to slam into the wall, making you flinch at the sudden noise. "How long have you been home?! I’ve been looking around for you like crazy! I went to your place and you weren’t there, I even went to the café looking for you!” Jake’s tone is demanding, laced with anger and frustration that you must have been here all along and just never bothered to let him know.

Jake scoffed at your silence, you didn’t even look up at him, instead having remained staring at the ground like had been doing for who knows how long. There’s a quiet mumble that fills the otherwise silent bathroom, almost going unheard by an exasperated Jake. Spinning on his heels, he crosses the short distance between you both, and crouches down directly in front of you, taking a softer approach this time.

“Hey, darlin’. Look at me. Say that again.”

You swallow thickly, looking up, but not at Jake, instead straight past him, fixating on a tile in the shower wall.

“I uh- I can’t- We need to break up Jake.”

Blindsided by this, Jake mentally runs through the past few months, ensuring he didn’t miss any important dates, but your birthday and anniversary were still months away. Things were going well in your relationship, Jake was ready to ask you to move in next month, he’d even cleared a section of his wardrobe for you.

He’d clearly misread the situation.

Now deeply hurting, Jake’s heart dropped, he never wanted to hear those words from your mouth. Not ever. “So you just made that decision for me? You’re not even going to dignify me with that information while looking at me?” The hurt is clear in his voice, his southern drawl seeping through with the intensity of emotion.

You simply shrug, knowing if you look at him, you’d break down. Jake is- was the best relationship you ever had, and that’s why it needs to end now.

Clearing his throat that was thick with emotion, Jake tried to hide just how blindsided you’d made him, choosing to fight for you “Whether you like it or not, I'm not giving up on us. I’m not giving up on you.” Sighing deeply, eyes darting across your face, seeking to catch your eye line, searching for any hint of your emotion. “You gonna tell me where this is coming from? I can’t fix this if you don’t talk to me darlin’.”

Another half-hearted shrug.

Jake nudges you gently, getting rapidly more frustrated when you don’t respond to him at all, but still mindful of your body, and any sensitive areas he was aware of, that was always his priority. You, making sure you were safe and well.

One rather loud clear of his throat has your eyes on him, still refusing to meet his eyes, but this was progress and Jake could work with this. “Darlin’… I can’t fix this, I can’t fix us, if you don’t start talking to me.” At your continued silence, Jake raises an eyebrow expectantly, aware of how emotionally fragile you could be right now, and not wanting to push you much more if he could help it. “Cry, yell, whatever - I'm not gonna leave your side. Especially not until you talk to me.”

Uncharacteristically, you lash out, emotions bubbling over, this conversation not going the way you’d planned it in your head. You should’ve known better. Jake was always one to fight for what he loved. One to fight for you. “Why do you always think there is something to fix?! Am I that big of a burden to you? Hell, what if this is something you cant fix, huh? What then?”

Eyes widened in pure shock at your outburst, Jake shifts to sit in front of you, back pressed against the shower door mirroring you, his feet either side of yours. “You wanna try that again darlin’? Don’t think I didn’t catch that but about calling yourself a burden.” Jake shakes his head in disbelief, it seemed that no matter how many times he reassured you that you were never a burden to him, it never got through to you, you would always view yourself that way.

Now you just shook your head and shrugged weakly, the fight going out of you. Another alarming thing to Jake. “I'm here and I'm not leaving or letting you change the subject. Now talk to me.”

Your eyes dart away from Jake’s face, back to the same tile on the shower wall. Another shrug, to which Jake nudges your knee with his own, clearing his throat again, this time to try and coax you to start talking to him, to go back to being open with him, instead of closing yourself off to him and your relationship.

“You don't deserve someone like me. You deserve someone better.” You breathe out shakily, tears brimming in your eyes, as you finally make direct eye contact with Jake. “Someone like you, shouldn’t be stuck and burdened with someone like me. You deserve so much better than me Jake. I’m sorry I can’t be that for you, but I can’t keep doing this. We need to break up. It’s what’s best for you.”

Now you’d given Jake an idea of where your head was at, what your thought process was, and how he could try and fix this. Even if it meant he’d lose your relationship, the one thing Jake would not lose was you. He just couldn’t.

Attempting a different approach, Jake exhaled slowly, resting a hand on your knee, taking note of you still in your work uniform. You had to have been sitting here alone, in the dark, for hours. "Hey darlin’, look at me properly. I’m here, I'm listening. You can tell me anything. You know that.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, watching you carefully, slowly coaxing you to answer him in any way he knew, “I uh-…” Stopping and trailing off several times in quick succession is only adding to Jake’s concern for your wellbeing, but giving him a better idea of how to get through to you.

Squeezing your knee gently, Jake gained your eyes dart back on his, wide and fearful, a change from the closed off and disassociated look you’d had before. “You don't have to pretend to be fine with me.”

“I feel like the pain is all I am anymore.”

That was not what Jake was expecting at all. Sighing heavily at the idea that you felt like your pain has taken over your entire life, Jake squeezed your knee again, trying to give you as much comfort as you’d let him. With no verbal response from Jake, you carry on, “I know it's selfish, but sometimes I wish someone would just take care of me. So I can just shut off, and not have to deal with everything else for once, y’know?” Sniffling, the first tears spill down your cheeks, “No one ever helped me when I needed it. so, I just try to do my best to keep all that to myself. I don’t want to be a burden Jake. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t… I can't continue this relationship based on half-truths and hiding my feelings. You deserve better than that Jake, and it breaks my heart that I can’t be that person for you.”

Jake’s eyes burn with emotion at your words, you were constantly putting others before your own well-being, even if it meant leaving your relationship. Leaving him. And it breaks his heart that someone has made you feel like your pain is too big a burden to share, even with those you love. “I know you feel like you're alone and I'm not going to invalidate that. But I can tell you that I'm here. and I know there are other people who want to help if you'll let them.”

Sniffling and nodding reluctantly, you blink back more tears, looking properly at Jake for the first time in this conversation, finding his eyes glassy, with nothing but love and care for you in his green eyes. Nodding himself at finally getting through to you, Jake smiles softly, “Darlin’, I can't promise you that you aren't going to have any more hardship or pain. But what I can promise you, is that I'm always going to be right here to get you through it. Always.”

Bottom lip trembling, you shakily reach a hand out to Jake, seeking his comfort, resigning from your fight to break up, craving him to hold you. He always does know the right thing to say. Assessing your body language, Jake takes your outstretched hand, moving to sit next to you, a strong arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his body, “It’s okay darlin’. Just let it all out.”

A sob gets stuck in your throat, choking on it as you try and fail to take a deep breath. Jake’s thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles across the bare skin of your arm is all it takes for the sobs to start. Finally releasing all of your pent up emotions, but majoritively of relief. Relief that Jake would never give up on you or your relationship without a fight, and luckily for you, he always knew the right thing to say, the right way to say it, and always, always had plenty of fight in him when it came down to you.

As your heavy sobs continue, your breathing becomes more erratic, something which Jake seems to instinctively pick up on, soft muttering of reassurances, and pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, stroking your hair softly, “It's okay, deep breaths. That's it, in and out.” Helping to get your breathing back under control, and your sobs to ease into an occasional sniffle, Jake continues to pepper soft kisses across your cheeks and forehead, “There you go, that’s better darlin’. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Your fist is clenched tightly into Jake’s shirt, tears silently streaming down your cheeks, a soft whine leaving your lips when Jake tries to coax you away from his neck, to get a proper look at you. He smiles softly, brushing the last tears from your cheeks gently with his thumbs, “I know darlin’, but you gotta let me up. You need something to eat and then some sleep, okay?”

Another soft whine pulls a chuckle from Jake, who gently moves you off his lap, allowing him to stand. Moving to turn on the bathroom light, a glinting fragment catches his eye. Scanning the rest of the bathroom, there’s several more fragments glistening by you on the tiled floor, and a few scattered across the counter.

Jake quickly flips the light switch, illuminating the bathroom in a soft glow. The bathroom counter is bare, various objects scattered across the far side of the bathroom. The glistening Jake saw was in fact various sized fragments of the countertop mirror.

Upon closer inspection, several fragments were covered in small amounts of blood. Panic stricken that you could be hurt, Jake is immediately back by your side, eyes darting over you, scanning your body for any signs of injuries. Clearing your throat softly, you try to surreptitiously slip your left hand behind your back, not wanting Jake to be alarmed if he noticed you were injured.

Ever the eagle-eyed observer, Jake’s concerned gaze is instantly back on you, stepping closer to you slowly, cautious as to not spook you. Kneeling down in front of you, Jake reaches out for your hand, brows furrowed and eyes full of concern. While an emotional person, you weren’t one to lash out and act recklessly, which is why Jake’s concern and worry for your wellbeing is evergrowing today.

Having slightly zoned out again, you flinch suddenly as Jake’s hand comes into your eye line, head hitting the bathroom under-sink cabinet with a dull thud, one that has Jake visibly wincing. Once again reaching out for you, his heart drops when you scramble away from him, hands getting caught on the loose mirror fragments behind you.

Your eyes are wide and full of distress, a look Jake hates to see in you. Your bottom lip is wobbling again as you look from your hands to Jake and back again several times, as if you didn’t know what to do, and Jake would. Sighing softly, Jake crouches before you, speaking quietly and calmly, “I can't clean you up if you keep flinching away from me so that I can't touch you. Will you give me your hand?” One hand slowly outstretched, palm side up as a gentle reminder he’d always be there for you, “C’mon darlin’. Please?”

A shaky and rather hesitant nod from you has Jake shifting ever so slightly closer to you, trying to get a better look at your hands. This time you don’t flinch, instead looking up at Jake with sorrowful eyes, the intensity of pain that you’re feeling almost becoming too much to hide like you normally would.

Grabbing you firmly by the elbows, Jake gently encourages you to stand, keeping you close to his body as you away on your unsteady feet. Having cleared the counter of any remaining shards, Jake’s hands mode to your waist, lifting you to sit on the countertop, a better hand for him to work on cleaning up your wounds.

“Be honest, how bad is this pain?”

A shrug, “Like a four out of ten? I’ve had worse pain.”

“When you say your pain's 'a four out of ten’, that's a normal person's ‘eight out of ten'.” Jake frowns, slightly frustrated that you are still downplaying your pain levels. “If it hurts, it hurts darlin’. Simple as that.”

A shy nod from you is rewarded with a soft kiss on your forehead, “I can sort out my hand, it’s my own fault. You don’t need to do it for me.” Jake routes through his medicine cabinet for some antiseptics and bandages to properly clean and dress your wounds. "This isn't up for discussion. I know you're used to looking out for yourself, but I need you to understand that you don't have to live like that anymore. I'm here. Just let me take care of you.” Another shy nod from you and a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, happy to have won this fight.

Gentle shushing from Jake is an attempt to soothe any incoming whimpers from the sting of the antiseptic, only to be cut off by a wince upon finding a sliver of glass embedded in your left hand. Blankly, you just look up at Jake and shake your head, as if to say, ‘please don’t do what I think you’re going to do’, but with the resignation that you knew Jake always put your wellbeing first, and he’d do exactly that.

Jake has to grit his teeth as he removes the sliver, pressing kissing of praise when you only whine once, an improvement on the last time Jake had to patch you up. Eying the antiseptic bottle warily, you try to slip off the counter, a strong desire to avoid anymore pain, but a firm hand on your waist tells you Jake isn’t having any of it.

A few swipes into Jake clearing your wound has you hissing in pain, kicking your feet out, trying to push him away, the burning sting of pain almost becoming all-consuming. "I know it hurts, I know. We're almost done darlin’, you’re doing so well.” Next is a dressing and a loose bandage, Jake all too aware of how much you fiddle with tight bandages, there being no point applying on properly when you’re going to sleep soon.

Your eyes light up in relief when Jake tidied up the first aid supplies, “All done?” A terse nod from Jake has you smiling softly, tugging on the bottom of Jake’s shirt, pulling him back towards you, arms circling his waist as you hug him tightly, “Thank you.” A small smile flickers on Jake’s lips, kissing the crown of your head several times, returning your loving embrace, “Always.”

Having scooped you up carefully off his bathroom counter, Jake carries you back downstairs, sitting on an empty section of kitchen worktop. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Now, you just sit there and I'm gonna make you something to eat. We're gonna talk this out more tomorrow. We both need some food and sleep first.” His jaw is clenched tightly, expecting you to argue back and fight him on this, but is pleasantly surprised and relieved when you pull him closer, nuzzling your head into his chest as you nod.

“But first, one important thing, that I’m not arguing with you over. We’re not breaking up. I won’t let that happen.”

Opening your mouth to speak your mind, you pause, Jake raising a challenging eyebrow, almost daring you to fight him on this again. Deciding that Jake was perhaps right, as much as you’d rather not admit it to his face, he usually was right when it came to you and your relationship. Opting to shut your mouth and let Jake take care of you, you nod curtly, watching him step away and busy himself around the kitchen.

It’s fascinating to watch the man you love, so dedicated to taking care of you, work in the kitchen, soon noticing the ingredients he’s picking out, registering that Jake is making your favourite comfort food. Tears burn the back of your eyes, you’ve never had someone so content and determined to take extra time from their day to make you feel better.

Jake immediately is back at your side, hand gently cupping your cheeks, when he notices your expression, searching your eyes for any dog of what had caused your sudden emotion, “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong darlin’?” Eyes darting down you hand, his fingers gently running over the fresh bandage on your hand, looking for any sign of rebleeding, “Is it your hand? Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need your painkillers? I can get them for you?” Jake pulls away from you, moving to get any painkillers you might need, ever the attentive boyfriend you’d grown to love with your whole heart.

You smile sweetly up at Jake, reaching out for him with glassy eyes, pulling him back to stand between your legs, hand framing his face, stroking gently against the day old stubble. “Jake. Just stop for a second. I’m okay, I promise you. I’m just thinking about how grateful I am to have you to take care of me.” Relieved, Jake kisses you gently, “Even when you fight me when I try and take care of you?” He’s teasing now, you can tell, shaking your head and smiling, you pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, kissing him lovingly, “Of course. I will always be grateful for you Jake, even when I don’t always want your help.”

Kissing you gently again, Jake steps away, lifting you off the counter and leading you into the dining room, setting a portion of food in front of you first, then moving to the adjacent chair and setting down his own. Watching you take the first few bites, Jake only starts eating when he’s entirely sure that your food is okay for your taste.

Finishing your plate, you're surprised at how hungry you actually were. Smiling softly, Jake slides his half empty plate in front of you, content to sacrifice his meal to ensure you don't go hungry. You beam over at him, offering him the occasional forkful.

You’d always take care of each other.

Back in his bedroom, Jake pulls an old t-shirt from his closet, one that he knew you had a not-so-secret favouritism for. Setting the shirt down on the edge of the bed, Jake tenderly starts to help you out of your work uniform. Cautious of how tired you are now seeming, he takes great care to do most of the complicated things for you.

Pulling his shirt over your head, Jake smooths your hair out, combing it out of your tight work hairstyle with gentle fingers, helping to pull your arms through the sleeves, smiling to himself when you can feel the tension of the day leaving your body.

A tired whine leaves your lips when Jake tries to coax back to stand, trying to lead you into the bathroom to fully get ready for bed. Your protests are cut off by a yawn, Jake chuckles, “C’mon darlin’, I know you’re tired, but you’ve got to. You’ll feel better.” A disgruntled grunt from you has Jake laughing, successfully managing to coax you into his bathroom.

Lifting you back onto the counter, Jake pulls out your toothbrush, then his own. He watches you carefully, wiping your mouth with a fresh washcloth when you're finished. Reaching for the hairbrush he bought for you at his place, Jake parts your hair, brushing each section carefully, not wanting to tug on any knots. You giggle at Jake’s attempts to try and tie your hair back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he surrenders the brush to you and letting you pull your hair out of your face properly.

Jake sets a glass of iced water on your bedside table, having carried you the short distance from his bathroom to the bed, tucking the covers over you carefully. He even brought an extra blanket from downstairs to ensure you’d be warm enough, or to at least comfort you a bit more, aware enough of your sleeping habits, to not tuck you in too tightly, and wait until he was next to you to try and help you sleep soundly.

Propping you up against his chest, Jake hands you an anti-nausea tablet, one you occasionally took on your bad days, one that Jake had noticed you’d need through your body language. Staring at it in your hand for a few seconds, you work up the mental courage to swallow, gulping some of the water down to discourage the bitter taste from lingering. He hands you a small blister packet of them, all too aware that you could wake up and need more, but would be too anxious to wake Jake up. It was little things, the basic gestures and actions that made you fall more in love with Jake each and every day that you spend in a relationship together.

Resting your head gently on Jake’s chest, with one arm carefully resting over his torso, you inhale deeply, cut off by a big yawn. Jake secured his arm around your body, pulling the blanket around your exposed arms, his hand coming to rest at the base of your neck, fingers occasionally tracing soft circles onto your scalp, easing the tension there.

The house is quiet, which is not unusual for being so close to a base at this time of night, every for the quiet, yet reassuring mumblings from Jake, reminding you that he’s always going to be there for you, there to take care of you, and most importantly, how much he loves you.

“Next time it gets this bad, you call me okay?” He looks down at you, there’s nothing but love and concern for you in his eyes, and you nod shyly, slightly embarrassed of how your choice to hide away from Jake had in fact caused him more worry, which was what you had been trying to avoid all along.

“You can't keep hiding this stuff.” He lifts your chin up gently with his other hand, trying to get you to look at him again, “I need to be able to trust you to tell me when you're hurting. Whether that’s physically or mentally, okay?”

Gaze dropping down from his green eyes, Jake is quick to whisper more reassurances to you, pushing stray hairs behind your ear, “You are so much stronger and braver than you think you are.” There’s more on the tip of his tongue if you even look like you’re going to dispute his words, yet to his surprise, you nod shyly, eyes flickering back to his loving gaze, “I think I’m starting to get that.” It was a rather shy and quiet admission, yet Jake’s face lit up with pride at your words, and his smile only grew and you continued, “I know that I used to disagree with you rather strongly, but thank you for helping me see clearly. I’m a better person with you in my life Jake. You make me better.”

Jake hums in agreement, it wasn’t exactly hard to see how much better you two were together, how much you bettered the other. This was a first was both you and Jake, and a joy that you both got to discover this kind of loving relationship with each other.

“We’ll talk more about this tomorrow when we’re both properly rested, but I hope you realise that I’ll always fight for this - for us.” Your eyes are fixated on his and you listen intently to what he has to say, majorly aware that the way you went about bringing this topic up to Jake, was the complete wrong thing. Jake wouldn’t give you up without a fight.

Exhaling deeply, Jake offers a different perspective, “Look at it this way - would you love me still if I was the one in so much pain? Would you stay with me for the rest of our lives, like I will for you?”

Your response is instant, “Of course. You know I would.” Jake’s mouth twitches into a soft smile, easing an eyebrow and waiting for you to realise. Your eyes widen as it clicks, looking down at your lap shyly, “Oh… Thanks Jake.” Nodding, he kisses the top of your head, pulling you tightly back to his side.

You can’t help the soft laughter that bubbles up as Jake peppers your face with kisses, there’s not an inch of your face that doesn’t get covered in multiple kisses. Jake can’t fight his own laughter at your infectious one, continuing to kiss you all over, moving to pepper kisses on your hair and neck.

Jake only let up on his over the top display of his affection for you, when it’s clear that you’re struggling to catch your breath because you’re laughing so much at his antics. Grinning, he pulls you close to him, a projective arm around your shoulders while you rest half on his chest, covering you both with the blanket, pressing a final sweet kiss to your forehead, “I love you so much darlin’.”

Smiling tiredly up at him, “I love you too Jake. More than you know.”

While the pair of you had a serious conversation ahead of you, Jake and yourself knew that as long as you had each other, you’d make it through, no matter what life threw at you.

You’d get the chance to spend the rest of your lives with each other.

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@sky2nd @els-marvelvsp

#allina writes #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick fic #tgm fanfiction #hangman fic

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just-jordie-things · 3 months

Text

cherry blossom - inumaki toge

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 9.3k warnings: shibuya mentions, toge says some words bc i'm not god ok, drinking summary: you've always had all the time in the world to figure out what you were to each other. falling in love is meant to be slow and sweet, after all. more info: friends to lovers, fluff without plot really (yeah i'm making that a thing)

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[ what you don’t tell no one, you can tell me // little ghost, tall, tan like milk and honey // you’re very brave, and very free ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Inumaki Toge was very close with all of his friends. He cherished them in ways he could only dream of vocalizing. Instead, with his cursed speech, he was limited to smaller forms of appreciation to show them how he cared. Remembering Yuuta’s favorite drink, punching Maki on the shoulder to tell her she did a great job, passing notes with Panda to pull off a silly prank- his love language was an odd one for sure, but it never went unnoticed. His friends cared for him just as much.

(y/n) was different, though.

It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one- even without the ability to voice it, it would have been useless to try. There was no denying the way that he treated her, the way he looked at her, it was unlike all the others. If she was speaking, his attention was on her, even in a crowded room, even if someone was talking over her, Toge listened to every word, actively engaged in whatever the topic was.

He always sat next to her, always picked her as a training partner, always reached out to her first when making a plan, she lived on the front of his mind rent free, and Toge was more than content to let her.

“Funny, or sad?” She asks him now, drawing him out of his dreamy thoughts and bringing him back to reality. She’s perched at the end of his bed, two dvd cases in either hand presented to him. His gaze shifts between the two as he mulls it over.

If he chooses funny, then he’ll get to hear her giggles for the next two hours, followed by her pretty voice repeating all her favorite lines to send her into fits of laughter again. He likes that option.

But the other movie in her hand is a favorite of hers. He wouldn’t describe it as sad as she had, but the uplifting message did tug at the heartstrings, and he’s caught her crying over it multiple times in the few years he’s known her. So he gestures to that one, reveling in the way she lights up before she’s getting off the bed in order to get his dvd player setup.

It was actually her dvd player, Toge was more of a Netflix guy, but with her collection of movies and the frequency at which she hauled it all over to his room, they’d silently decided to just leave it in his room. Sure, it might have been easier for them to have movie nights in her room where she didn’t have to unplug the Xbox every time to watch a movie, but Toge would never suggest such a thing, and she’s never brought it up either. He likes having some of her things in his room.

For a little while, it could help him feel like they were living a more domestic, normalized life. Sometimes, he would set up her movies from that week on his shelf in alphabetical order, or fold up the blanket she’d left behind, and he could pretend that things were… different.

“I’ll have to add a box of tissues to the pile” She says, eyeing the plastic bag of snacks that the two of them had just gone out for.

It was routine at this point, rush out to the convenience store, buy more snacks than they agreed on, and then rush back to campus to get the movie started before it was too late. These were his favorite days.

With her back turned as she got the dvd player plugged in, Toge clicked his tongue to get her attention. She glances back at him right away, her curious look blooming into a full, beautiful smile as he raises a little plastic package of tissues, wiggling it in the air happily.

“You’re perfect!” She laughs to herself before going back to the console, placing the disk inside with an eager little dance.

Toge thinks it’s adorable that she’s so excited to watch a movie that will make her cry. He could be biased though- he thinks everything she does is adorable.

Once the movie starts, she’s quick to jump back onto the bed, crawling up into the space beside him, snatching up the back of treats on the way. Toge watches her, it’s only the opening credits playing anyways, it’s not like he was missing anything yet. (y/n) catches his eye, raising a brow as she tilts the bag towards him.

There’s not exactly a way for him to tell her that his staring was just because he liked when she didn’t tuck her hair back and it fell in that messy way it did, not because he was waiting for his turn with the snack bag. So he gives her a lopsided smile and takes the offering.

“If you open the chips I want some” (y/n) hums, her eyes already back on the screen as the movie begins. Toge chuckles, pulling out the green bag of sour cream and onion flavored chips, even though he’d been eyeing the package of chocolate chip cookies.

(y/n) turns to him again, this time with a mock pout on her lips.

“Are you laughing at me?”

It makes him laugh a little more, even as he’s shaking his head to convince her otherwise. He opens the bag of chips and tilts it towards her as a peace offering. She gladly accepts it, her frown melting back into her syrupy smile as she snatches a few chips and settles in again to watch the movie.

As expected, she’s tearing up before anything’s really happened yet. Toge knows she’s already thinking about the real tear-jerking moments later on. Her emotions sometimes overwhelmed her- not just when watching heartwarming movies, but with handling the everyday things that came with the life of a jujutsu sorcerer. It was hard when one of her closest friends was sent away on long assignments overseas, it was hard when there were casualties on assignments, it was hard training every day and trying to be better, all the while doubting herself and her abilities.

There were some times that she’d come by and they wouldn’t lounge around watching movies. Sometimes she’d visit him just to sit quietly and take in the comfort of his presence. Toge never minded these days. He was just relieved that there was some way he could help her feel better- although he didn’t always understand what it was that worked. It’s not like he could talk her down from the bad feelings, all he really did was sit there, maybe hold her hand if she needed, often listening to whatever was on her mind.

“He’s the one that makes me think of you” (y/n) points to the screen when a new character pops up. A teenager, with shaggy, jet black hair, and a perpetual frown on his face as he’s on screen.

Toge mirrors the frown, turning to (y/n) with furrowed brows as he awaited a proper explanation. She only giggles to herself as she continues munching on her snack, not bothering to explain how a character who looks and behaves nothing like him could possibly have her making a connection between the two.

He started to wonder if it was time to change his hair again, but as the movie progressed, he began to understand. The kid had taken a vow of silence, and hadn’t spoken a word the entire movie. Yet somehow, his thoughts and feelings were portrayed perfectly. As the viewer, Toge was never left wondering what was going through his head. Admittedly, he grew attached to this character quickly, and he found his focus latching onto the plot now with fervor.

Noticing this, (y/n) smiled to herself as she tucked herself further into the pile of pillows behind her. It always warmed her heart to see him take interest in the things she liked. Maybe even too much.

It’s mostly quiet between them as the movie continues, they don’t like to talk too much during movies, only comments deemed important enough to share before the end, or the ask to pass the snacks. They usually would have a discussion at the end anyways, sharing all of their thoughts and favorite parts with one another.

Soon enough the couple hours passed, the snacks were mostly deplenished, and (y/n) was half asleep, eagerly asking him how he liked the movie despite the tears in her eyes that she was still wiping away with the half-used supply of tissues.

He nods back at her, chuckling softly at the sight of her still being so teary eyed when the movie had ended ten minutes ago. Her lip is still wobbly and even as she folds and re-folds the tissue to keep wiping away the trail of tears.

Toge maneuvers onto his side, facing her with a small smile before taking the tissue from her hands.

“Mustard leaf” He says quietly, before reaching back out and drying up the trail of tears that she’d missed, down her cheek, and then along her jaw. She sniffles between a watery giggle.

“Thank you,” Her voice cracks, and she laughs quietly again. “That movie is just too much sometimes,” She explains, and Toge hums in understanding. This wasn’t nearly as bad when they watched Wall-E. “But I love it, what did you think?”

“Salmon roe” He replies with a larger beam, which she mirrors right away, before her head feels a little heavier on his pillow.

“Okay, good,” She murmurs before a yawn overtakes her, and Toge’s eyes widen in realization when she tucks the blanket over her shoulders. She’s going to fall asleep. He starts to move to shake her awake, one hand curling around her shoulder and tugging slightly, but she doesn’t respond to his silent pleas telling her to get up. “I’m really glad you liked it, you can pick the movie next time though”

Toge huffs when she shuts her eyes and nuzzles into the pillow again. It’s no use. She’s already drifting off right in front of him.

“Bonito flakes” He mutters.

“It’s alright,” (y/n) yawns again. “Just wake me up in, like, twenty minutes and I’ll go back to my room so we don’t get in trouble”

Toge already knows how that’s going to go, but she’s out like a light mere seconds later. He hasn’t seen anyone fall asleep so quickly.

With another sigh, he turns off the tv and places the remainder of the tissue package on his nightstand along with the remote. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep on his back beside her, even when his brain is working overtime trying not to hyperfixate on her leg pressed against his, or her soft breaths fanning over his shoulder as she sleeps.

His dreams are pleasant, with soft swirls of warm colors, sweet sensations of gentle touches and the lingering scent of cherries and vanilla, melodious giggles and whispers made of but sugar coated words. The kind of dreams that you wake up from and wish there were just a few more minutes to latch onto the remnants of the hazy feeling.

As expected, (y/n’s) still there when he wakes up the following morning- not that he’d tried all too hard to send her back to her own room last night. He just couldn’t bear to disrupt her peaceful sleep beyond a few whispers of her name and pokes to her forehead.

She’s awake not long after him, but she settles back into the covers, murmuring a raspy good morning to him. SHe doesn’t seem startled by the surprise sleepover in the slightest, and the nerves Toge had let fester the last ten minutes of sitting awake and waiting for her to wake up.

There were still a few minutes of her being in and out of sleep, but after a while she’s stretching and getting herself out of bed with the promise of grabbing them both pop tarts before they had to start training for the day.

Toge perks up at the prospect of pop tarts, and she giggles at his obvious change in demeanor, before telling him she’ll be quick, and taking off from his room.

He knows he should be rushing around to get ready for the day, but he can’t bring himself to get up from the bed just yet. It’s too warm, too comfortable, too alluring with the lingering scent of cherry vanilla still clinging to the sheets.

His heart feels full as he settles back in for just a few more minutes.

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(y/n) felt love for all of her friends. She always sort of had, it developed not long after meeting each and every one of them. She loved Maki’s ambition, Panda’s humor, Yuuta’s passion, each and every one of them were simultaneously the greatest person she’s ever known. Her friends were her livelihood, her reason for fighting, her reason for trying, she doesn’t think she’d ever be able to repay them for what they’ve done for her. The love she held for them was the purest kind there was.

The love she held for Inumaki Toge was different, though.

She loved Toge the way she loved late spring, with the way the pretty pink cherry blossoms begin to bloom, and the cool breeze turns warm, and suddenly everything doesn’t seem so gloomy and bitter all the time. The sun seems to shine a little brighter and everyone seems to feel a little brighter, too. It was exactly how loving Toge felt.

It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one, seeing as she could barely unglue herself from his side at any time. If he entered a room, she would rush towards him. If he came back from an assignment with an injury- no matter if it was life threatening or just a paper thin slice, she was patching him up with the utmost care Shoko’s infirmary could offer. If Toge wasn’t around, she was texting him everything that was going on to keep him in touch.

There was nothing that brought her peace and joy quite like being around Toge.

She giggles as she tips her cup against her lips, sipping at the remnants of the drink she’d made only fifteen minutes ago. Yuuta was sure to scold her when she wandered her way into the kitchen for the third time in an hour.

Toge’s laughter follows shortly after hers, although he’s not sure what exactly they’re giggling about, he just can’t help himself once she gets going.

His brows pinch together when he shakes his head, trying to ask her what it is that made her giggle fit erupt in the first place. Once she’s calmed down enough to realize this, she grabs him by the shoulder.

At first his expression morphs into surprise, his eyes wide as he stares at her closely, before she’s swiveling him suddenly, guiding his eyes to the sight that was cracking her up.

Panda was in the common room, clearly feeling himself as he danced about, all slow twirls and raised arms. He looks positively ethereal- in that loaded sort of way.

He’s quick to pull out his phone, setting his cup down to use both hands to steady the camera on Panda’s drunken ballet- or, attempt at ballet. (y/n’s) giggling from beside him would definitely be caught in the video later, but neither of them minded, it only added to the humor of it all.

Maki must’ve noticed what they were up to, as she sneakily made her way over to the pill-shaped speaker, where she turned the volume up a few more notches. This only excited Panda, who picked up the pace in his dancing. (y/n) has to smack a hand over her mouth to stifle the cackle that erupts from her throat, but Toge doesn’t match her haste, and his laughter is almost louder than the music itself.

With a gentle smack to his shoulder, (y/n) shoots him a warning look, silently telling him to quiet down before Panda notices their recording.

Of course, Panda’s already noticed, his paws on his hips as he gawks at his so-called friends who were just making fun of him with their less than subtle camera pointed in his direction.

“Laugh it up, at least I’m having fun!” He points an accusatory finger at the two before turning his chin up with a dramatic flair. Toge rolls his eyes, and just as he’s about to end the video, (y/n’s) face pops up on the camera.

“He’s right!” She says, a bit too loudly for standing right in front of him, but drinking always raised her volume. She’s setting her cup down then, before reaching her free hand out to Toge, tugging on his wrist and disrupting the video that was still being recorded. “We should dance!”

“Mustard leaf!?” He replies, and she laughs, knowing it was his way of repeating ‘dance!?’ With uncertainty and surprise.

Her cheeks are pink, and he can’t make out if it’s because of the alcohol in her system, or if it was the brazen invitation of asking him to dance. He’s not given much time to decipher it’s cause before she’s pulling harder at his wrist, and without another moment’s hesitation, Toge pockets his phone and follows her silent plea. Distantly, he realizes she’s never had to work too hard to convince him of anything.

Maybe that was why they were all up far too late drinking together and dancing when they knew damn well that they had training bright and early tomorrow.

Panda’s cheering when (y/n’s) managed to drag Toge all the way into the common room where the music is playing the loudest. He’s already resumed his twirling as if Fleetwood Mac is playing and not Joan Jett, but he’s enjoying himself, and no one is about to ruin his fun… again.

Toge’s never really danced before, besides the occasional sway from side to side, or a head bop. So as soon as she starts swinging her hips and dragging his arm back and forth where she’s still got a grip on his wrist, he goes as stiff as a board.

It doesn’t take long before it dawns on her that he hasn’t been dancing, and she frowns at him, pulling at his arm to get him to come closer so she could talk to him.

“Why won’t you dance with me?” She asks, and it breaks his heart so completely that he can’t hide the way his face falls at her question. (y/n) brightens up immediately, a string of bubbly laughter falling from her lips as she shakes her head. “It’s not hard, just, move,” She says, shuffling her feet from side to side, her hips following in a languid motion. “See?”

He rolls his eyes at her, and she smacks his shoulder with her free hand, her semi-aggressive way of telling him he was making it a bigger deal than necessary, before both of her hands grab at his, and she guides him through the motions more properly.

The song that’s playing is upbeat, so she finds it easy to wave their arms together to the melody, while her hips keep the beat of the bass line. After a few jolty movements on his part, he eventually begins to mirror, and just as she thought, he gets the hang of it and doesn’t look so awkward dancing with her.

(y/n) can’t wipe her grin off her face as she continues to move their hands about in sporadic motions, sometimes to the beat, sometimes at random. Toge just latches his hands onto hers and lets her do whatever she pleases.

She’s never had to talk him into doing anything, he was always following her, whatever she was doing.

“See? It’s fun!” She’s the image of gleeful, twirling herself under one of his arms before prompting him to do the same.

Toge manages a few ‘salmon’s between her antics, before she starts to get more energetic with the beginning of the next song. She claims it’s a classic 2000’s dance beat, and that it would be criminal if they didn’t dance through it, too.

Of course that turned into a third dance, then a fourth, and along with them a few more drinks. They lose track of time, and eventually the rest of the world seems to fall away, too. It’s a Wednesday night- well, early Thursday morning now- but all responsibilities that the day will hold is far from their minds. It’s hard to notice that their friends have even started to wind down. Panda had collapsed on the floor with a pile of empty water bottles surrounding him, currently chugging down another one. Maki was scrolling through her phone nursing her own water, physically present, but too tired to engage in any more activities tonight.

And (y/n) and Toge were dancing around, jumping on their feet and twirling each other about like the night was still young and they had all the energy in the world. Until eventually, Maki had given up on adding anything to the queue, and random songs they’d never heard of were playing, (y/n) still insisted that he stay up with her and keep dancing until they couldn’t anymore.

That was, until Maki retreated to her room for the night, and with her went the music. (y/n) tried her best to plead with her to stay, but unfortunately Maki wasn’t as suggestable to her puppy dog eyes as Toge was.

“(y/n), listen to me closely,” Maki said in an uncharacteristically sweet voice, even going so far as to run a hand through her drunk friend’s hair. Thinking that she was going to stay at the ‘party’- if it could still be called that- (y/n) gleamed up at her with a syrupy smile and heavy eyelids. “Get some water, and get to bed”

(y/n) deflated immediately.

“Makiiii~” She whined, and made another noise of dissatisfaction when she lost the physical affection, too.

“No buts!” Maki quips as she walks away with her phone and powered down speaker in hand. “Toge, if you keep her up, then you’re dealing with the consequences tomorrow!” Maki barks at the other culprit to (y/n’s) deluded party-mode state.

“Salmon!” He hollers back, bringing his hand to his forehead in an all too serious salute. It brings out a load of giggles from (y/n) that has Maki sending one last warning glare at the two before she finally leaves.

Yeah, she absolutely wasn’t dealing with that mess in the mornings.

“She doesn’t hate us,” (y/n) sighs out to Toge, unprovoked, but he can tell she’s completely serious by the way she stares up at him. “She’s just grumpy she has to get up in the morning”

Toge raises his eyebrows with slight concern, before twirling his finger around in a short circle between them.

(y/n’s) jaw drops as she gapes at him.

“I know we do too,” She argues. “But it’ll be fine, I’m used to waking up early”

He gives her a look, but she doesn’t relent in her stare. So he pulls his phone out to show her the time.

2:48 A.M.

But her eyes barely register the hour, instead she’s glued to the wallpaper on his lockscreen, and she’s lighting back up with energy as she reaches for his phone and snatches it before he could react.

It was ridiculous how she maintained her speed and strength even when intoxicated. Toge wondered if it was safe for jujutsu sorcerers to drink this heavily.

“Is this us?” She asks, even though she was currently admiring the photo of the two of them on his lockscreen.

Toge’s quick to zip up his collar in order to hide the heat flushing his cheeks.

“This is so cute!” She delights in the image, cradling his phone in both hands as though to preserve it with great care.

The picture isn’t even new to her, and she’d been the one to take it. A few months ago she’d tried her hand at baking, and had been quite eager to bring a cinnamon cake to a hangout with the rest of their friends. She might’ve promised it before she was certain of her baking abilities, and had required Toge’s help not long into the process. As happy as he was to aid her in her new hobby, he couldn’t help but find humor in just how helpless she seemed to be in the kitchen at first. She hardly even knew her way around the cabinets. Hours later the cake had turned out just fine- their friends had even gone for seconds- but not without it’s difficulties.

Toge had snapped the photo when the cake had just been put into the oven, before they began the tedious cleanup process. She had flour in her hair and some stuck to her cheek. It was a good thing she’d chosen to wear an apron because it was covered in the various ingredients they’d used. But despite the messy state of herself and the kitchen in the background, she was grinning from ear to ear, clearly excited to see the results of her cake soon. Toge’s mirroring the smile, although there’s not a speck on him. After the whole process, he’d managed to keep himself completely clean.

“I didn’t know you made this your wallpaper, that’s really sweet,” She’s handing him his phone back after the torturous few seconds are over, and Toge slips it into his pocket quickly. His blush might’ve been hidden by the collar of his jacket, but it was still made obvious by his shifting eyes that couldn’t quite meet hers.

“That was a really fun day actually, we should bake something together again sometime!” She lights up, and he can tell that she’s already trying to think of something to go make right now. It’s clear she’s already forgotten the time- or maybe she just didn’t care that much. “We could-”

“Tuna tuna” Toge gives her a look, before tapping the back of his wrist a few times, hoping to remind her of the task at hand.

It was no wonder Maki rushed off to her own dorm.

(y/n) huffed in annoyance, but ultimately followed alongside him as he tried ushering her out of the common room and towards the dorms. She stumbled along and tried to slow him down, came up with a few more mumbled excuses to stay up later, all of which were met by quiet chuckles and reminders of ‘tuna’.

It took some ping-ponging down the halls, but eventually he got her to her room, and even though the night was over, she seemed rather pleased to be back in her own room.

“Spicy cod roe” Toge barely mumbles the words out as he’s gesturing about her room to her, before raising his hand to his mouth to mimic drinking a cup of water.

She smiles back at him in perfect understanding before she gives him a nod of her head.

Her movements are lazy as she strolls about the room to get changed into something she can sleep in. Her coordination was less than subpar compared to her usual level of functioning, but that wouldn’t be a problem for another few hours.

It’s not long before there’s a knock on her door, and she’s opening it with the brightness of a christmas tree when Toge is on the other side with two bottles of water.

Wordlessly, she invites him in by stepping aside and pulling the door open further. Toge passes off one of the bottles to her as he does so.

“Are you staying?” She asked, nodding to the bottle still in his hand. “We can watch a movie?” She offers hopefully.

It’s a little past three in the morning now. He tries to give her a look to reminder of this, but she doesn’t seem to care when she sticks her bottom lip out and folds her hands together in a pleading motion.

He sighs, and she brightens up again. It’s almost comical how small but sweet of a smile could have him agreeing to anything. It’s almost as if she’s the one with a cursed technique designed to compel, and not him.

While glancing through the array of dvds on her shelves, Toge wonders what things would be like if the roles had been reversed. If he was the one able to tell her his every thought and feeling as they pass. He wonders if she would have known how he felt about her a long, long time ago.

He’d dealt with his cursed speech in the best way that he could. Of course he didn’t love it, of course things would be easier if he could talk like anyone else, he could gamble a good ninety percent of his life would’ve gone smoother. No more stupid rice ball ingredients, and no more hoping that just a look would be enough to communicate to the girl he loves that he loves her. That he purely, wholly, desperately loves her.

He picks out a dvd and pops it into her player- she’d dragged it back into her room last week after waking him up in the middle of the night because she was in the mood to watch one of her favorites. Once the opening credit scenes start to roll, he finds that she’s already cozied up on one side of the bed, her blanket tucked to her chin, and her water bottle cradled in both of her hands. She smiles when he turns to her, and then pats the space beside her, waiting patiently for him to sit with her.

He lets out a sigh as he sinks into the mattress beside her. He taps his wrist twice before raising his hand and pinching his thumb and forefinger together, an easy way to gesture just for a little bit.

“Okay,” (y/n) nods, then takes the edge of her blanket to throw it over his lap too. “Just for a little bit” Her voice is merely a hum, words slurred together just a little bit, but there’s not a flicker of uncertainty in her features when she gazes upon him.

It’s only a few minutes into the movie when she slumps against him, the entire side of her body pressed into his, from their shoulders to their legs. Toge chuckles as she begins to give in to her exhaustion, and as sweet as it was that she got cuddly when she was drunk and sleepy, he prayed she’d pass out soon so that the morning wouldn’t be so rough. They were well past getting a full eight hours before training tomorrow, and dealing with Gojo alone would be a burden. Not because he would go rough on them- but because as soon as he sniffed out a little bit of a hangover, he’d be relentless with his teasing.

(And he might tack on a few extra laps on the track as minor punishment. Normally no big deal. But when you’re fighting off puking your guts out?)

Toge makes a mental note to have aspirin and a heavy meal ready first thing in the mornings so she could get it all out of her system as quickly as possible. One measly water bottle tonight just wouldn’t cut it.

When her head hits his shoulder in a soft thump, he looks down at her, checking to see if she’s finally fallen asleep. To his surprise, she tilts her head back in order to meet his gaze. Pink dusts over her cheeks and the corners of her mouth tilt upwards, no doubt a reaction from the alcohol in her system and their close proximity.

“You think I could get out of training with a sick day tomorrow?” She murmurs, earning a wince from Toge. She didn’t need words to understand what that meant. “You’re right,” She sighs, briefly turning her attention back to the movie. “Gojo’s gonna fry me”

This time he chuckles, and she glances back at him again.

“Mustard leaf…”

A small giggle escapes her as well, her eyes crinkling despite knowing the fate she would face come tomorrow.

“Maybe I’ll just fess up straight away,” She thinks aloud. “If I cry a bit, he might take pity on me, I dunno,”

Toge struggles to hold eye contact with her, not because the movie was just so enticing he could barely pay attention to her, but quite the opposite. With her cuddled up against his side and whispering so softly right into his ear he could hardly focus on anything other than her. To his knowledge, the rest of the world was completely wiped away. It was an ability she’d somehow mastered unknowingly, making him forget that there was anything else going on around them when the two of them were together.

His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she must notice, with how close she is, she could probably feel it, but if she does, she doesn’t say a thing.

“Or you could tell him I died,” She adds suddenly, and Toge snorts out a laugh, making her giggle again.

His eyes finally hold contact with hers for longer than a passing second, and she seems to melt further against him. She doesn’t feel heavy against his shoulder, but she might as well be an anchor keeping him trapped in place.

Yeah, there’s not a chance he’ll only be here for a little bit.

“You’d cover for me, right?” She asks, and it’s only meant to be a tease, but Toge raises his free arm that wasn’t being leaned on by hers, and crosses his finger over his heart. “Wow,” (y/n) gushes in her surprise, eyebrows raised and lips curling into a wider smile. She’s so beautiful to him at this moment that he now hopes he’ll be the one to pass out before he does something stupid. “Cross your heart and hope to die, huh?” She muses. “That’s pretty serious”

He scoffs again, barely rolling his eyes, but his attention is drawn back to her again when she shifts around to lay on her side. She’s still very much cuddled up to him, and he can tell she makes an effort to stay that way as she gets comfortable in a new position. She even hooks her ankle over his, a silent ask for him to stay longer. Her cheek leans back into his shoulder soon enough, and he knows he should be leaving when she starts to bat her eyelashes, but even as a Grade Two sorcerer he doesn’t have the strength to do so.

“Can I ask you a real question?”

Everyone’s least favorite question of all time.

Toge affirms with a nod of his head, barely managing a smile to assure her.

“Does it get old?” Her voice grows even softer. “Listening to me talk all the time?”

He shakes his head just as quickly, the smile disappearing as a knot forms between his pinched brows. She gives him a wobbly smile, feeling a bit endeared by how quickly he tried to tell her otherwise.

“Really?” She asks, still a bit unsure. “Sometimes I try to shut my mouth, I… I don’t want to make you feel like you’re stuck listening to me all the time, but, uh, I can’t help it sometimes. I… really like talking to you” She’s rambling before she knows it- and then blushing at the irony of it all.

His smile returned then, stretching wide until his teeth were showing, and he was laughing quietly at her. Not to be malicious, of course, he was simply amused and absolutely lovestruck by the sweet admission. Toge reached out, affectionately touching the pad of his thumb to her chin, before he shifted around to get his phone out of his pocket.

This didn’t call for rice ball ingredients, or small gestures to convey what he was thinking. He’d need to communicate properly to her with how much he’d have to say.

(y/n) watched on as he opened his notes app and began to type.

it could never get old. i like listening to you talk :)

It makes her heart stutter in her chest, but she can’t help the giggle that escapes her when he adds a little emoji, too. Toge spaces down to a new line before typing more.

does it get old that i can’t talk with you the same way?

He watches as her eyes scan over the screen quickly, before she turns to him and shakes her head.

“Of course not,” She tells him right away. “I- I think we understand each other just fine… don’t we?”

It dawns on her that they’ve never really talked about this before. Even when they first met, it was like she was told he had cursed speech and she took it upon herself to learn how he communicated as quickly as possible. Perhaps all that time she spent around him those first few months after her enrollment were what led to their closeness now. Saying she was headstrong in being able to understand him would have been an understatement. She had constantly been picking up on the subtleties between his rice ball ingredients, or paying attention to every hand movement or direction of his gaze to know what he was talking about.

And it was a very, very rare case when she couldn’t understand him. Toge could hardly recall a time it had happened.

He sets his phone down on his lap, nodding his head back at her as his eyes shifted between hers. Her lashes hung heavy, eyelids almost falling shut with every blink, but she wasn’t giving into sleep just yet.

She mirrors his nod with a short one of her own, her eyes filled with an emotion he can’t say he’s ever seen in her before. He studies it curiously, forgetting any sense of embarrassment from staring at her so blatantly… but then again, she wasn’t exactly shying away either. Was it the alcohol?

“Toge,” His name falls from her lips in a mere breath, so small her mouth hardly moves, so quiet it almost doesn’t grace his ears. “I… I hope you know you can tell me anything… anytime…”

It’s such a sweet admission that he can’t help but reach out to her again, his thumb touching her chin in the way he usually does when he’s teasing her, but now it feels… different. His touch lingers, and the look in his eyes feels heavier than she’s used to. She’s flustering suddenly, her heartbeat picking up in pace, her face feeling even hotter the longer she holds his stare. After another prolonged minute of his touch to her face, she finds herself reaching up for his hand, cupping the back of it and holding it there for just a few moments longer.

And then comes a delicate, carefully worded whisper on his part.

“I know”

He pauses for a few seconds after he says it, just to be sure there were no lasting effects left on her. Just as he expected, those words didn’t seem to hold any cursed energy, and she didn’t seem paralyzed or compelled in the slightest. She simply smiles back at him, her eyelashes batting a few more times.

“Okay, good,” She murmurs, before tucking herself closer to him, nuzzling her head into his chest to get comfortable.

She’s long forgotten the movie that was playing, and honestly, so had he. Toge knows now it’s only a matter of minutes before she’s finally knocked out. With a yawn, she finally drops her hand from his, but Toge opts to leave it in it’s place, carefully cradled under her jaw, his thumb swiping over her cheekbone in slow and lazy movements.

“Just stay the night, ‘kay?” She mumbles into his shirt, throwing her free arm over his waist. “If someone notices, I’ll take the blame,” She says, and then quickly adds, “But no one will”

His chest vibrates beneath her when he chuckles, and she merely smiled to herself as sleep finally overcomes her.

Toge hesitates on moving to turn off the tv. Any one wrong move and he’d risk waking her, and he certainly didn’t want to do that. So with drawn out movements, he carefully gets the tv turned off, and places the remote on the nightstand.

(y/n) doesn’t wake up, to his luck, she doesn’t even stir. She’s sound asleep, dead weight like a rock on top of him. But a welcome rock she was.

He didn’t even mind having to sleep in a half seated position, or the fact that the arm she’s laying on is starting to prickle with pins and needles. None of it matters when he can faintly feel her heart beating against his chest, right beside his.

Toge only got a hair of sleep that night, but even during the rough training session the following morning, all he could think about was how soft her hair felt when he’d run his hand through it.

If what came after falling in love was a crash landing, he was definitely nearing the ground.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When he first comes to, all Toge can barely make out is the dim light above him. His mind is hazy, a swarm of disconnected thoughts like ‘where am I?’ and ‘why are the lights so dim in Shoko’s infirmary?’. Nothing really makes sense until the haze begins to clear.

The next sense to come back was his hearing, and he wished it had taken a little longer because it wasn’t pleasant.

At first it’s just a sharp ringing, distant at first, like someone blowing a whistle far away from here. But it didn’t take long for it to grow nearer and nearer, until eventually it was right in front of him, breaking through to let him take in the other sounds around him.

Whimpering. Soft weeping, maybe. Quiet, like the owner of the quiet cries, was trying not to wake him.

Then it was sniffling, also quiet and contained. So faint he could just barely make it out, but paired with the cries, it wasn’t hard to understand what was going on.

He has to squeeze his eyes shut after the short exposure to the yellow light, but soon enough he’s forcing them open again. This time he’s greeted with the blurry silhouette of the crier.

“(y/n)-”

It’s no surprise his throat is so dry and raw that he feels blood pool on his tongue as soon as he rasps out her name, but it was enough to capture her attention, so he tries to ignore the pain for now.

A hushed “Ohmygod” is whispered under her breath so fast her lips barely move, before she’s a blurry mess of movements above him. His eyes can’t track everything, but he thinks her hands are shaking around his face from the tapping over her fingertips on his cheeks. “You’re- you’re awake?” She mumbles out, a hint of a whimper still trembling in her voice.

Just as he parts his lips to give her an affirmative response, her eyes widen, and her fingertips press further into his cheeks until he can feel the full length of her fingers against his skin. They’re still shaking, but her touch is warm.

“Wait, don’t say anything, I’m sure your throat’s a mess right now,” Even when she’s not sniffling over her words, they’re watery, just a little bit stuck in her throat. “But you’re- you’re awake,” She repeats, a smile briefly stretching on her lips, before it quickly falls back into that wobbly frown. His vision begins to focus when he settles it there, hoping it’ll disappear into another smile again.

Why was she such a wreck? She’d never cried over him before, and he’s been injured plenty of times, Toge couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It was making it harder to fight past the hazy state of waking up.

There were small, wet splashes against his face that startled him enough to change his focus, eyes suddenly moving his line of sight upwards, finding her eyes were in fact full of tears, and most of them were streaming down her face. He can’t say or do much, but concern is evident on his face.

“Are you in pain? Does anything hurt?” She wipes uselessly at the tears on her face when she speaks. The dry patches were just as quickly replaced by more streaks of tears.

Toge shakes his head, although it’s not a complete truth. His head is still spinning, the metallic taste of blood was burning the scratches in his throat, but most peculiar was the dull ache of his left arm. It wasn’t a sharp pain, or even enough to bring a tear to his eye, and yet the throbbing of it captured all of his attention. He couldn’t not think about it. Was it broken? Why hadn’t Shoko healed it? It never feels like this after her Reverse Cursed Technique…

“Okay,” (y/n) whimpers, sniffling before she speaks again. “Okay, that- that’s good, that’s good…” Her voice grows quiet, and Toge’s shaking his head at her again, trying to voice his confusion with this whole ordeal, trying to ask her what was wrong.

All he can do is twitch his right hand until she notices, and as soon as she turns her head, she picks his hand up in both of hers. She’s swift but gentle, cradling it as if his bones would shatter from a movement too rough. He tries to curl his fingers around hers, but it takes too much effort, so he goes to bring his other hand around hers as well.

A strained gasp escapes him when he lifts his left arm, his eyes shooting open from the pain and difficulty of the action, neck swiveling to see what was so wrong that he couldn’t do something so simple as to hold her hand and comfort her.

They’re both frozen when he finally looks at his left arm. Or, lack thereof.

(y/n’s) crying seems to cease completely as she holds her breath, and Toge’s chest is moving rapidly, but his inhales and exhales are nearly silent.

When he looks up at her again, she brings a hand to her mouth, stifling the sob that shakes her entire body as she begins to cry again, just as hard as she had when she’d found him.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Is what she says first, it’s all that really comes to mind at first, she doesn’t know where to begin, how she’s supposed to explain it to him, what the gentle way of proceeding was.

She almost wished someone was here now, but there wasn’t. There was no one. Everyone was either missing, or had died in the aftermath, there was only the two of them. The world had shrunk down to leave just the two of them it seemed- and they weren’t allowed their peace.

“Shibuya- it’s- when I found you-” She tries, she really does, but so many words flood her mind at once that they get lodged in her throat, and she’s never really learned how to navigate this sort of thing before. This was always Gojo’s job, or Nanami’s…

With a deep breath, (y/n) straightens her posture as she’s kneeled beside Toge on the ground, and she gives his hand a small squeeze.

“Without a Reversed Curse Technique, I did the best that I could,” She says, a little bit more clearly, but not without a few hiccups. “The runes on the wrappings should keep it from getting infected, at the very least,”

Toge looks back at his left side again, taking in a long, good look at the missing space where the rest of his arm used to be. Then his gaze shifts upwards, where what’s left of his bicep is wrapped in perfect bindings. It appears every inch of the gauze is covered in neatly drawn runes.

How long had this taken her? How long had he been out?

“It’s been a couple of days,” She sighs, pushing a hand through her hair and slouching again. “It’s not… great, as you can see,” She adds, gesturing around them.

It’s only then that Toge’s really taken in their surroundings. They’re in a tent, that’s just big enough for the two of them. The shitty light his eyes had adjusted to was just a lantern tied around the center post.

“But it’s worked for now… I’ve been out a few times, there’s water, um, some food…” She trails off as she’s glancing around, already losing pace and barely keeping up with what she’s saying. What was she supposed to say? “I… I haven’t crossed paths with anyone else yet”

Toge’s hand twitches in hers, fingers flexing for a moment before he pulls it out of her hold. It’s slow and shaky when he brings his hand to her face, but he is able to make the reach. She leans closer to him so he wouldn’t have to stretch too much. Toge presses the entirety of his palm into her cheek, fingertips prodding at her hairline, thumb tracing against her cheekbone.

That wobbly smile returns when she presses her palm against the back of his hand. She’s still crying, but it seems a little more under control. He wonders if she’s even aware of the never ending tears, or if she’s grown used to it.

“Thank you”

A watery scoff of a laugh escapes her, and then she shakes her head at him.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” She mumbles, and his thumb begins to drag lower, across the hollow of her cheek, coming to the corner of her mouth.

He nods his head to make his argument, a furrow in his brows that tells her he’s serious, but she doesn’t seem to take him as such.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” She sniffles. “There’s barely any food, I’ve been in this ruined uniform for days, all of our friends are missing and the strongest sorcerer in the world is in the prison realm, you’re hurt, and it very well may be the end of the world-”

He has to drop his hand from her face in order to have the strength to push himself into a sitting position, but once he does he’s just as quick to bring it back.

She’s crying too much to keep adding to her list of everything that’s gone wrong in the last few days, but this time Toge tries to wipe the tears away as he shushes her softly. It takes a few minutes, but eventually the tears come to a stop, and Toge drops his hand again.

This time he makes a gesture to her. It’s drawn out, despite it being a simple one. He points his finger out, touching it to her collarbone, then his eyes meet hers again, and they’re tearing up again. He frowns. Then taps her shirt a few more times, trying to make his point clearer.

You’re still here.

He can only hope that more taps will make sense to her.

The corner of (y/n’s) lips tilt upwards, and he thinks with the amount of emotions flickering behind her eyes, that understanding is amongst them.

“I’m glad you’re here… with me,” She mumbles out. “I don’t know what I would’ve done….” The thought trails off with her words, and she turns her head away, chewing on the inside of her cheek. The exhale she lets out instead is slow, and shaky.

Toge lifts his hand to turn her chin back towards him, a frown on his face as his eyes meet hers.

Again, he points at her, but this time he presses the pad of his finger square against her chin, and then turns it towards himself, mirroring the touch to his own chin. A crease forms between her brows, and he repeats it- tapping her chin twice with a featherlight touch, and then his own.

We’re both still here.

Weakly, another smile graced her lips. She understood.

“Whatever is next, we take on together… yeah?” She asks him, her voice hushed, a certain anxiety filling her chest with a crawling feeling, but Toge’s response couldn’t have eased it away faster.

He nods, leaning in closer, bringing his hand back to her cheek so he could tilt her head downward just the slightest, enough for him to brush his lips over her forehead in a light kiss. So light if she wasn’t staring at him with wide eyes, she might’ve missed it altogether.

Like a deer caught in headlights, she holds her stare even once Toge’s pulled away. Her parted lips holding no definitive emotion, he’s not exactly sure what she’s thinking when she stares at him like that, but he doesn’t feel any regret from the action. They were all they had now, and there might not be any amount of comfort to delude them into thinking things were going to turn out perfectly fine, but they could certainly try. Perhaps they could go just a few minutes at a time feeling some relief.

They weren’t alone. And despite it all, they were alive. At this moment anyways, Toge couldn’t ask for more.

With the backs of her hands, (y/n) roughly wipes away the lingering tears on her face, before she reaches out to him. Just as her hands cradle around his face, he’s meeting her halfway, eyes shut before their lips even touch.

As hasty as it is, it’s a tender kiss. Neither one of them wanted to move too fast at the risk of bumping an injury, but the years of pent up emotions came pouring out of it nonetheless. Her calloused and bruised hands somehow feel silky smooth when they glide over his jaw. Any fears or pains melt away under the gift of her soft kiss. Toge could almost forget all of it, just for that moment.

When she pulls away, quietly panting to catch her breath after holding it the entirety of the kiss, the unreadable look on her face fades away into something else. Bittersweet relief.

Her eyes shift between his, finding the same emotion in them that she’s currently feeling. Affectionately, her thumbs trace over the markings on either side of his mouth. There’s a moment of silence between them as they bask in the first pleasant moment they’d had in a while. It’s no surprise that it’s only come when they’re together.

“We’ll find the others,” (y/n) murmurs assuredly after a minute. “We’ll figure it out,” And as she says it, she starts to believe it, slowly but surely she pulls herself out of her cynicism, hope and certainty replacing it when she looks at him. “Together”

His own hand slides across her cheek and wraps comfortably at the nape of her neck, holding her delicately but closely. Toge nods, smiling back at her with as much conviction as he could.

“Together”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s a cruel, cruel world, but we don’t care // cause what we’ve got, we’ve got to share ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie a/n: for anyone who got the little miss sunshine edit mwah mwah mwah bc it's a comfort movie of mine <3

#inumaki toge x reader #toge x reader #inumaki x reader #toge inumaki x reader #toge inumaki #inumaki toge #inumaki toge imagine #toge inumaki imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #inumaki toge x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

Text

Steve was probably Dustin’s favorite person in the entire world, not that he would ever admit it out loud. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but it was a little embarrassing for his role model to be a dorky babysitter who worked for minimum wage with his chick-repeller best friend. And when he wasn’t with her, then he was with his brand new favorite metalhead. Neither were particularly helpful in the dating department.

Now if he was just allowed to add the bit where Steve was a fearless monster fighter with a heart of gold, then things would be a bit better, but certain government NDAs made that impossible. Dustin admired Steve just as much as he judged him, more so really. But all that admiration didn’t stop him from worrying.

There was something obviously wrong with Steve lately, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was. At first, Dustin thought it was just Steve worrying over Eddie’s recovery, because he was a massive worrywart who still looked like he’d faint when Eddie did anything even slightly strenous. Though in his defense, Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down and got to witness firsthand just how close to death he was. He barely left his side for those first few horrible days in the hospital, always touch and go, doctors constantly warning them to not expect him to wake up.

But Eddie recovered, has been recovered, for months now. He was back to his theatrical self, slipping into their friend group with ease. Especially when it came to Steve. Apparently having your life saved by someone fast tracked relationships by years. The two acted like they’d known each other since childhood, constantly together.

Steve went to pick him up? Eddie was already in the front seat. He went into the Family Video to bother him? Eddie was already chatting him up at the front counter. Showing up to bother Steve at his house after school? Half the time it was Eddie who answered the door, and the other half he was sprawled on the couch when Steve let him in.

Now Dustin wasn’t necessarily jealous of Eddie, but their relationship just confused him. At first, he was actually pretty happy about Steve having a new side kick, especially when Robin decided to drop the bomb that she was gay as hell and dating Vicky, effectively cutting the time she spent with Steve in half. Dustin knew that Steve got lonely easily, so he half expected that to restart his attempts at getting a girlfriend, but instead he just spent more and more time with Eddie. Which was fine. Weird, but fine. Or at least, it was.

But for the past week or so whatever was going on with Steve, shifted. Sure he was acting different before, he was striking out with almost any girl who talked to him and hadn’t been out on a date since forever , but Dustin wasn’t too worried about it, not when he knew he was happy.

Like, weirdly happy for someone who had the life Steve had. But now, Dustin could just tell something was bothering him, something that he refused to acknowledge. Steve had never been a good actor, ever since whatever happened, he’s just had this air of loneliness around him, just an aura of sadness that he was hiding behind the world’s fakest smile.

But Dustin couldn't figure out what it was. Nothing had changed! No fights with Robin that he knew of, and definitely none with Eddie. Steve’s face still lit up whenever he saw him, and Eddie wasn’t shy about draping himself all over Steve whenever he could. No one was that touchy feely if they were fighting with someone, so that was out.

Whatever it was, Dustin needed to get to the bottom of it, and he wasn’t the only one.

Besides El and Lucas, Steve was also Max’s favorite person. Somehow, a random twenty-year old with a beehive for hair became the closest thing she had to a functioning parent in her life. He was always looking out for her, whether it be taking her to and from physical therapy, dropping off groceries at the trailer on his way to Eddie’s, or even taking her freaking mom to AA, Steve was there.

So of course she noticed immediately when he was upset. At first she thought he got into it with Eddie or something. The two were basically attached at the hip nowadays, so if someone was going to piss him off, then it would probably be him. But they were acting the same as always, sickeningly sweet and bizarrely close for only being friends for half a year. Though on second thought, Max didn’t have much room to judge, considering how she considered Steve like a dad in under two.

Steve just drew people to him, with his stupid handsome face and good nature. He was always too busy worrying about other people, he never acknowledged when he needed support, so of course he just denied anything was wrong when Max asked.

“I’m fine, scout’s honor,” he had said the last time she tried, with the saddest puppy dog eyes ever. His face only ever brightened fully when Eddie was around, though Max had a feeling that was also an act, just a more curated one for Eddie’s watchful eyes. The guy was obsessed with Steve, but since he was always so nice, Max didn’t think to worry about it. Steve deserved someone who cared too much around.

Robin, obviously, knew what was wrong, but she was a steel trap when it came to Steve secrets. That was something Max actually loved about Robin, just not when it was used against her.

She had thought about asking Eddie, but decided against it. If her initial theory was right, then he was hiding something from him too, and hiding it harder. Or if she was wrong, she doubted he’d betray Steve’s trust for her. Not unless she caught him alone and really, really high.

That could stay as a back-up plan.

But for now, Dustin was going to be her best bet. Steve could pretty easily say no to them separately, but when they formed a unified front he always caved.

They were working with a hundred percent success rate when they got him alone, a power they didn’t take lightly. The two had agreed to save that tactic for only dire circumstances, they weren’t monsters afterall, but Max was going to count this as dire.

Dustin was pretty easy to convince, he was just as tired of Steve avoiding talking about it as she was. The two of them set up a plan in no time, Operation: What the fuck was wrong with Steve?

The immediate hurdle was separating Steve from his cronies, which left them with the single option of Friday night. Eddie had a drug deal, courtesy of Max’s admittingly, inappropriate eavesdropping, from the last time they took her to the doctor, pretending to listen to Kate Bush as Eddie promised him to be careful.

Robin was a different story, and there was a fifty percent chance she’d be there. And Robin was always on Steve’s side, even when he was obviously lying. But they had a plan for that too, one would distract her at the front door and the other would sneak in and coax Steve outside, feigning some kind of emotional emergency that required privacy, where they would then corner him in the woods.

Max had to admit that plans like this made her think Steve may have had a point to his “personal boundaries lectures”, but if he wasn’t so damn stubborn, then they wouldn't have to be so weird. They pulled up to his house on their bikes, no cars but Steve’s in the driveway.

“I’ll sneak through the back door, he usually doesn’t lock it.” Max said, hopping off her bike, “You deal with Robin, and if she’s not there just yell.”

“And if she is?”

“If she is, distract her for as long as possible, I’ll walkie you when I get him alone.”

Dustin nodded. Robin was easy enough to distract, and who knows, maybe they would get lucky and she wouldn't be there. He rang the front door bell, watching Max sneak off to the back in the corner of his eye.

Of course Robin was the one to answer the door, frowning immediately at the sight of Dustin, “Jeez kid, every hear of calling?”

Rude. But whatever. “Where’s Ste-”

“If you’re looking for Steve he isn’t here right now, okay?” she lied immeadlilty, obviously going with the first dumb thing that popped into her head. She looked angry and tired, which was mildly alarming. And super rude.

“If he isn’t here then why is his car? I know he wouldn’t let you drive it.” Dustin said, crossing his arms, “You gotta get better at lying Robin.”

She rolled her eyes, “He would so let me drive. I have a license now, remember? What do you even want, Henderson?”

“Well now I want to know why you’re lying.”

She sighed, pinching her nose in frustration, “Dustin, now just isn’t a good time okay? Come back tomorrow, he’s off in the afternoon anyway.”

“If something’s wrong with Steve then I should know about it! You realize I was his best friend before you, right?”

“Oh, as if!”

Getting into an argument over who was Steve’s true best friend was as good of a distraction as Max could ask for. Robin didn’t even notice her slink into the house, making her way into the living room with none the wiser.

She peered over the couch, heart immediately sinking at the sight of Steve laying down, red-eyed and sniffling. Her well curated plans flew out the window at the sight, and the question was out before she could even remember she was trying to be sneaky here, “Why are you crying?”

Steve nearly jumped ten feet in the air at the question, flailing off the couch at the sight of Max suddenly standing over him.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Steve gasped, pulling himself up from the floor.

She shrugged, casually moving to sit next to him, too concerned to be embarrassed over being caught, “You left the back door unlocked. Why are you crying?”

“I wasn’t crying!”

She rolled her eyes, “Then why were you crying? Was it Nancy again?” Max asked, lowering her voice, “Because I wouldn’t mind putting her in her place if she’s messing with you-”

Steve gave a shaky laugh at the barely veiled threat, oddly endeared despite the fact that she broke into his house, “It’s not Nancy. Jesus calm down.”

Steve turned to the entryway, calling after Robin, “Just let him in, Robs, the other one already snuck past you anyway.”

That was all the invitation Dustin needed to push past her, immediately frowning when he saw Steve. He turned to Robin, “Did you make him cry?”

“No, she didn’t-”

“Maybe a little.” Robin mumbled, interrupting him. She plopped next to Steve, dropping a comforting hand to his shoulder, “But my harshness is for his own good.”

Max sat on his other side, leaving Dustin to sit on the floor in front of him, “Can you just tell us what’s been going on with you already?” he sighed, playing with the carpet fibers, “You might be able to trick everyone else but not us. Right Max?”

“Right.” she agreed, “And if you tell us maybe we can help. Without making you cry.” she emphasized, giving Robin a mean look.

Steve groaned, rubbing at his face, “I’m fine, I swear! It’s just some dumb shit on my end.”

“Not really dumb…” Robin mumbled next to him, huffing when he elbowed her in the ribs to shut her up, “Babe, they’ve already resorted to breaking and entering, they’re gonna find out eventually anyway.”

Steve groaned, throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling. This is not where he expected this night to go, but now his two favorite children were staring at him, all wide-eyed and concerned, he didn’t know how to say no to that. The little shits.

“Fine. I’ll tell you,” Steve sighed, completely giving in, again. He was really going to need a better boundaries speech soon, “But I'm telling you with the full expectation that you'll keep it to yourselves okay? And you won't freak out."

“We won’t freak out.” Both kids said in unison, despite the fact that they were very much internally freaking out over what he was about to say.

"Like seriously, I mean it.” he emphasized, “Remember how many times I've gotten the shit beat out of me for you before you pass judgment."

“And remember that I’m not afraid to hurt children if you cross him either,” Robin added, looking surprisingly threatening, enough to make them double down on the promise to be cool.

Satisfied, Steve went on, "Well…I'm like Robin, understand? Like…preference wise."

Dustin cocked his head at him, confused, “You mean you like girls? But we knew that?”

"He's gay dingus." Max answered for him, immediately catching on.

"Bi!" Robin piped up beside him, “He’s playing for both teams.”

Now that was unexpected, at least for Dustin. He stared at him, the shock evident on his face. He was only able to shake it off when he realized Steve was shrinking in on himself, anxiously waiting for him to say something.

“We love you anyway," Dustin blurted out, just knowing that Max felt the same way, "That’s like nothing. I was worried you were dying or something!"

Max nodded with him, “He’s right, like we won’t tell anyone but I know Lucas wouldn't care either. Or Eddie for that matter.”

Steve only flinched a tiny bit at that, which he was proud of. And honestly, the relief he was feeling was bigger than how bummed out he was about his other problem.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, a grin slowly growing on his face, “Like seriously, that’s a massive load off.”

"And what else?" Max pressed.

Steve ran a hand over his face, he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy to get them off his back, "What do you mean, what else?"

“There’s obviously something else, because you liking guys wouldn’t warrant a harsh lecture.”

Robin huffed, crossing her arms, "He just has bad taste in guys-”

“Dude!” Steve hissed. His face was going red from how hard he was rubbing at it, or maybe he was just that embarrassed.

“We won’t stop until we find out,” Dustin warned, “We’ll break in again if need be.”

Steve loved these kids, loved them enough to die for them, but god were they annoyingly persistent.

“Fine! Yes, there’s something else. Just don't be weird about it,” he insisted, “Like this is a me problem, a Steve only problem, so I don't need you two rugrats trying to go full vigilante for me or some shit, got it?"

They nodded, both knowing that they didn’t mean it.

“I…I kinda have a thing for Eddie. A very, very uninterested Eddie. Who did nothing wrong by the way,” he said, glaring at Robin hard enough to shut her mouth, swallowing whatever comment she was going to add, “It’s a really stupid crush that I need to get over, and that’s all. I swear.”

Max turned to Robin, “Is that true?”

She shrugged, “In essence, technically it’s true.”

That…that kinda made sense. Max was suddenly reminded of just how often the two of them were together, let alone how touchy feely. Now that it was pointed out to her, she felt kinda dumb for not realizing before. Those two were all over each other.

Dustin was even more surprised. At least now it made sense why Steve suddenly had an interest in DnD, but he was having a hard time seeing Steve the “Hair” Harrington, be thirsting after his nerdy Dungeon Master.

Or worse yet, why was his nerdy Dungeon Master not thirsting after Steve?

“Is he straight?” Dustin blurted out. He hadn’t ever thought about it before, but in hindsight Eddie almost never talked about dating, and when he did it was vague with no actual women being mentioned.

Robin cough-laughed next to Steve, “Oh ya, he’s real heterosexual. Straight boys are just known for calling their friends sweetheart-ow!”

Steve threw a pillow at her face, shutting her up before she could get going, “What he is or isn’t into is no one’s business but his own. I just know I’m not in the ‘is into’ category.”

“How do you know?” Max asked. Eddie could surely do a lot worse than Steve. And if Robin is right and he isn’t straight, who is he to think he could do better? Better than the man who literally saved his life. If anything Steve was out of Eddie’s league, not the other way around.

“I just do. And I really, really don’t want to talk about it anymore. So now you know. Now promise you won't be weird, alright? I’ll get over it. Like soon , I promise.”

He wrapped an arm around Max, and reached down to ruffle Dustin’s hair, a real smile on his face, the kind they both had really missed, “And besides, you two not giving a shit that I’m a fruit matters way more than any crush.”

“That’s such a lame way to put it.” Dustin whined, even though they were both preening internally. Of course, Steve could trust them. They’d love him no matter what, and at least now he knew that.

“Okay! Well now that you know, you can go now,” Robin stood, gesturing towards the door, “We have a conversation to finish over here.”

Steve groaned behind her, “Do we have to?”

“Yes we have to!”

“Well can I have a break at least?” Steve leaned over, grabbing his keys off the side table, “Drive them home for me and then I’ll suffer through your lecture in the morning.”

“But-”

He tossed her the keys, consequences be damned. If she crashed, she crashed, at least it will be legal now, “But if you have my car I won’t be able to avoid you that well will I?”

That appeased Robin enough to get her walking towards the door, “Then I’ll be back in the morning, Nine a.m. Sharp. ”

She turned to them, sticking her tongue out at Dustin, “Told you he’d let me drive it. Now let’s go.”

Dustin and Max exchanged looks, reluctant to leave when they were obviously missing a massive part of this story, but Steve was already shooing them out the door.

He waved at them from the stoop, a tired but sincere smile on his face as he watched them pile into the car. Even if his friends were beyond overbearing, it did feel better to talk about it. He just wished he didn’t have to put his petty problems on literal children.

He laid back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

He wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable, and honestly deserved, speech Robin was going to finish tomorrow, but at least he got her out in time before she had even more material to work with. He had never seen her turn so fast and so vindiciatavly against another person before. It made him feel like shit honestly, that Eddie was losing Robin as a friend for his own stupid ego. If she just knew him a little better, then she’d get it. Probably.

Maybe.

Eddie didn’t have a mean bone in his body, he would never fuck with Steve’s feelings on purpose. All of his jokes, all of the touching and nicknames were just how he showed affection. It isn’t his fault Steve read way too much into it, like a moron.

And okay, maybe two male best friends don’t call each other baby or sweetheart, but Robin called him babe, so it wasn’t that weird. And so what if they slept in the same bed together almost everyday? It was just helping each other out with nightmares, even if Eddie kissed the top of his head every night, it didn’t mean anything.

Or at least, now it didn’t.

“Seriously Nance? I’d rather die.”

He groaned, burying his face into the couch cushions at the thought. He was not going to cry again, he refused, but it was still so harsh. From someone who actually almost died, it was quite the fucking statement to make, and maybe Steve should just take it as the obvious no it was. He should be grateful he found out, and didn’t humiliate himself by declaring his everlasting love or some shit.

If he could go back in time and just not ask , then he wouldn't be here right now. He’d still be in ignorant bliss. But no, he just had to get Nancy Wheeler involved, the queen of reality. Though technically she had wanted to get involved, if nothing but to stop Steve from lamenting about it over the phone. Weirdly enough, distance had been great for their relationship, and now they were closer than ever, talking for hours whenever either needed to vent, Nancy about school or her failed relationship with Johnathan that she still wasn't over, and Steve, consistently, about his almost boyfriend, Eddie.

It had taken months for it to finally happen, but she was so sick of his pining, she had cracked, “I’m just going to ask him when I’m home next Steve, I swear to God.”

“No you will not. Nancy, that is so freaking highschool it isn’t even funny.”

“He was just in highschool, so it’s fitting. And then you can stop wasting your time whining about him and just make-out with him. Next weekend, I’m doing it, like it or not.”

He should have insisted on the no, but instead he went full highschool girl and went along with it. They met at her place, under the pretense of a small get-together while her parents were out of town. He left Eddie with her in the basement, pretending to go to the bathroom when he really stopped at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping as Nancy casually asked the questions he was too chicken-shit to do himself, “So, are you seeing anyone?��

Eddie had almost choked on his drink at that, “No? Why Wheeler, you interested? Because I doubt Johnathan or Steve would be too keen on that.”

Nancy rolled her eyes, “No offense Eddie, but you’re definitely not my type. And I don’t think I’m yours either . I don’t think any girl in Hawkins is.”

Eddie stared at her, gnawing on his lower lip, “Good guess. And if you happened to be right, then you can probably understand why I keep that part of my life on the down low.”

She nodded, “I’m not going to tell anyone, believe me. I was just curious if anyone had caught your eye.”

“In this town? No one. There are literally zero options.”

“Oh come on, Steve’s cute, there’s an option.”

He had laughed at that, loud and mean as he shook his head, “Me and Steve? Seriously Nance? I’d rather die .”

Steve wasn’t sure what he had expected to hear, but it definitely wasn’t that. It hurt, it hurt bad, which was stupid considering they were never together, or even close to it, outside of the wild leaps Steve had made in his head. The logic hadn’t stopped the tears from gathering in his eyes though.

Robin, in all of her ill-timed glory, decided that was the best moment for her to bust through the front door, calling loudly into the house. Steve scrambled to meet her, just in time to avoid Eddie seeing him spying like a creep. It had been a terrible fucking night, but at least Nancy was kind enough to lie about her parents coming home early so Steve could sulk at home in peace. She had apologized to him at least ten times since then, and had jumped straight onto the Eddie hate-train with Robin pretty soon after. They had both been so sure that he felt the same way, they channeled all their disappointment into rage, at someone who really didn’t deserve it.

Steve shouldn’t have told Robin what happened, wouldn’t have if he’d known she’d be so insane about the whole thing. Even if she had some good points. Was it healthy to pretend like nothing was wrong and let Eddie hang all over him with no future of an actual relationship? No. Was it stopping Steve from doing it? Also no.

Steve jumped when he heard the doorbell ring, too lost in his own thoughts to realize it was past midnight. There was only one person it could be. He scrambled to get the door, always stupidly excited to see him, already grinning when he came face to face with the source of all of his shitty feelings, and the only person who even slightly made him feel better about it.

“Y’know, I gave you a key so you could use it,” he teased as Eddie stepped past him, right at home, “I don’t know why you always make me answer the door.”

“Maybe I just want to see your pretty face, is that such a crime?” Eddie was doing that thing again, that sweet way of talking that made Steve feel like he was about to melt. That thing that Robin insisted Steve put a stop to if he had any sense of self-worth.

Lucky for him, he didn’t.

Steve rolled his eyes, grabbing for Eddie’s hand to lead him upstairs, “No, but making me lose sleep is. My pretty face is exhausted from waiting for your ass. We’re going to bed.”

Eddie was laughing behind him, with his stupidly pretty voice. The voice that haunted Steve’s dreams at night, “Whatever you say princess.”

Steve should have been thinking about what Robin said as he curled up against Eddie’s chest in his bed. This was bad for him, no matter how good it felt in the moment. The nights of Eddie wrapping his arms around him, kissing his head, whispering sweet dreams, in his ear, had an expiration date, he knew that now.

But that wouldn’t stop him from hanging onto it for as long as he could.

Part 2!

#steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #there's a part 2 to this!#you'll pry my insanely long posts out of my cold dead hands #eddie's a big dumbass #and robin's thirty seconds from killing him for it #stranger things #max mayfield #steve and dustin #dustin henderson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #she's trying to be a good friend damn it

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