#I know this is bad but like I have this voice inside me that’s like you should get

[hoshifighting]

i’m not even going anon for this because i have NO SHAME for what i am about to ask

i can’t stop thinking about gamer woo… and better yet i can’t stop thinking about what sucking him off under his desk would be like while he’s playing.. 🫠

so lyla i am asking you to PLSSSS write something smutty about gamer!woo if you would be so kind 🥲☝🏻 just sumn about getting him hot and bothered and distracted while he’s gaming (& trying not to stutter and moan into his mic) has me going absolutely bonkers

i know i can trust u with this

giving gamer!wonwoo blowjob as he plays WARNINGS: smut, semi-public sex, blowjob, cum eating, mentions of body fluids (spit/cum)

you’re crouched under wonwoo’s desk, back pressed awkwardly against the leg of his chair, knees scraping the hard floor as you breathe out a quiet laugh. the low hum of his voice drifts from above, a steady stream of half-bored conversation with his teammates. there’s something about the way he talks when he’s gaming—always little impatient. his fingers click furiously over the keys, and his jaw clenches when something doesn’t go his way. it makes him feel untouchable.

and you’ve made it your personal mission to fuck with that.

“fuckin’ idiots, just push left,” he mutters, eyes fixed on the screen, completely oblivious to the fact that your hands are already sneaking up his thighs, fingers teasing at the waistband of his joggers. you feel him tense, the sudden shift of his body as your nails drag lightly against his skin, just under the fabric. his focus doesn’t break, though, not yet.

you grin.

“yah—keep up with the heals, come on,” he snaps, trying to maintain some kind of composure, but you hear the slight hitch in his breath when your fingers dip lower.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he mutters breathless, but the mic isn’t muted, and the noise from his teammates drowns it out.

you don’t answer. instead, you tug his joggers down just enough to free him, your fingers wrapping around his half-hard cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. it’s satisfying, the way his body reacts before his mind even catches up. you hear his breath stutter, like he’s trying to keep the sounds inside, trying to keep some shred of control.

“mmph—yeah, yeah, just push, we can still win this,” he’s saying to the team, voice tight, and you almost feel bad for him. almost.

but then you lean in, let your tongue drag along his length, slow and wet, and you feel him jolt in his chair, his hand gripping the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“fuck,” he whispers, quieter this time, more for you than the game.

you smile against his skin, lips brushing over the sensitive head, and then you take him into your mouth, slowly, savoring the way his thighs tremble under your hands, the way his breath catches in his throat.

“w-wait—shit,” he stammers, and you hear the faint confusion from his teammates on the other end of the mic. you’d laugh if your mouth wasn’t full, if you weren’t so focused on making him lose his mind.

his hands are gripping the desk so hard now, knuckles white, his hips twitching involuntarily as you work your tongue along his length, hollowing your cheeks, sucking just hard enough to make him curse under his breath.

“wonwoo, you... good? you’re like…really quiet, man.”

he doesn’t respond right away, too busy biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to keep it together. it’s almost pathetic how hard he’s trying not to break.

“yeah,” he finally grits out, voice strained, “i’m fine. just—focus on the game.”

you chuckle around his cock, the vibrations making him hiss through his teeth, his hips bucking up slightly into your mouth. you let him, taking him deeper, tongue swirling around the head every time you pull back, slow, teasing, like you’ve got all the time in the world to make him come inside your mouth.

“i swear to god, if you don’t stop—” he starts, but the threat dies in his throat when you hum again, pressing him deeper into your mouth, watching his hand fly to his headset, muting his mic with a shaky breath.

he sets the headset aside with a hasty clatter, both of his hands moving down to grab fistfuls of your hair. you feel the shift immediately—the control he’s trying to take back, the dominance that flares up when you push him too far. his fingers are rough as they tangle at the roots, pulling you just enough to make your scalp tingle, but not enough to hurt. you groan at the pressure, letting him guide your head, and that seems to light something inside him. his hips roll up into your mouth, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him.

the chair squeaks under his shifting weight, the soft creak of it barely audible over the wet sounds of your mouth working him over. you’re drooling now, the spit gathering at the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin, resting on his crotch, but you don’t care—you know how much it gets to him when you make it

you glance up at him, eyes rolling back, letting your expression go slack and fucked out—just like he loves it, and that’s when you hear it—his sharp intake of breath, the way he swears under it. it’s like he’s trying so hard to be a strong soldier, but you know him, know that look in his eyes.

“fuck—” he groans, his hips bucking up harder into your mouth, his fingers twisting tighter in your hair, practically holding you in place as he starts moving faster, forcing you to take him deeper.

your hands grip his thighs for balance, feeling the tense muscles under your fingers, the way his body is so close to snapping. every move unraveling as his thrusts get more desperate, more reckless. the squeak of the chair is constant now, a chaotic rhythm that matches the way he’s fucking your mouth, the sound punctuated by his shaky breaths and low curses.

“shit—you’re too fucking good at this,” he pants, eyes wwild as he stares down at you, his voice almost whiny, “look at you, drooling all over me…fuckin’ filthy.”

you moan around him, the sound muffled but still loud enough to vibrate through him, and he jerks, hips stuttering as he struggles to hold back. his grip on your hair tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to let go, let himself come in your mouth—but he doesn’t.

instead, he pulls you off him suddenly, your lips slick with spit and precum, and your breath comes in short gasps. before you can even question it, his hand wraps around his own cock, slick with everything you’ve left behind, and he starts stroking himself fast, the way he likes it.

his other hand grips the back of your head, holding you close, forcing you to watch as he jerks himself off right in front of you, his breath coming out in rough pants, the muscles in his arm flexing with every stroke. you can’t help but let your tongue dart out, licking at the head every time his hand moves down, teasing him.

“gonna cum, fuck—gonna cum all over your pretty fucking face,” he growls, his voice desperate. you open your mouth wide, tongue out, eyes locked on his, and the sight of you like that, so eager for him, makes him roll your eyes.

he groans loudly, his whole body shaking as he spills across your face, thick ropes of cum splattering over your lips, your tongue, your chin. you swallow what you can, but the rest drips down, mixing with the mess already on your skin. his hand keeps stroking, milking out every last drop, until he’s twitching from oversensitivity, his breathing ragged.

he watches you for a moment, panting, chest heaving, and then—without a word—he leans down, his thumb swiping across your chin, gathering the cum that dripped there, and pushes it back into your mouth.

“swallow it all, baby,” he says, and you do, your tongue curling around his thumb as you swallow everything he’s given u.

he smirks, pulling you up by the hair and pressing a lazy, messy kiss to your lips, his cum still lingering on both your tongues. when he finally pulls back, he looks at you like you’ve just become his favorite fucking person in the world.

“next time,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear, “i’m fucking you on the chair.”

you grin, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb.

[stevie-petey]

episode three: the monster and the superhero

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.” You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?” Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?” “You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Summary: you and steve can never have a normal conversation, dustin threatens nasa, eddie sadly eats his cereal because youre mean to him, youre once again nancys biggest fan, dustin and steve have an awkward heart to heart, and you and max become felons together and trauma bond (again) !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k

Before you swing in: hi hi hi !! so so so sorry for the wait. this chapter was a pain to write and i was so busy with school and work :( promise updates will become more regular soon. i was just simply in the trenches for a hot few weeks. things in the story are heatin up, so get ready gamers. anyways, enjoy !!

–

It’s quiet in Steve’s car. 

Streetlights glow faintly, lighting the way home. The windows are down; the thick late spring air fills the car with the bittersweet scent of honeysuckles in bloom. In the dim of the car lies Steve’s faint outline as he drives. His hands rest against the steering wheel, his chest rises slowly as he inhales all the fear that settles inside the car. 

No one speaks. The tension is suffocating you. 

In the backseat resides Robin with Dustin and Max. The oldest sits in the middle, her fingers drum nervously against the head of your seat. Dustin stares out the window, he hasn’t looked at you ever since promising Eddie you’d be back for him tomorrow. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, he begged you to let him stay in the boathouse, but you wouldn’t let him. 

Max stares out the other window. Her eyes are closed, she’s pretending to be asleep. You’ve come to learn what she looks like when she pretends. Her nose pinches slightly, her eyes can never stay still enough to convince you she’s asleep. It’s what she does whenever she doesn’t want to face your questions, your concerns and your fears. 

Tension builds in the back of your skull, a dull throb rings within your ears. Exhaustion washes over you, fear pierces her nails into your skin. You can’t get Eddie’s terrified eyes out of your head. The way his voice trembled, the sticky blood on his fingernails from the skin he picked at. 

If they’re back again, we need to know.

Vecna’s curse.

The static Eddie felt, Chrissy’s trance-like state. Her bones, the morbid angles they snapped. Barbara Holland, daughter and best friend. Bob Newby, superhero. Billy Hargrove, dearly missed son. Jim Hopper, renown chief and beloved father. 

You’re the best of them, kid.

If the gate really has opened once again… Thick molasses grief coats your tongue and fills your mouth with remorse. There has been so much loss, so many funerals you’ve had to attend. Too many bodies buried without answers, without closure. 

Over and over again. 

“We’re here, Robin.” The gravel of Steve’s voice cuts through the endless dread. He parks the car in front of her driveway, the lights are off inside and you know that Robin is afraid of the dark.

“Need me to walk you in?” You ask her, quiet, but unyielding with all the love you have for her. 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m brave, aren't I always brave?”

“The bravest,” Steve smiles at her, soft and unbroken. “Get some sleep, yeah?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.” Her facade slips, the fear that grips everyone tightens its hold. How could anyone sleep at a time like this? She shakes her head again, her smile returns, albeit forced, tired. Then she messily crawls over Dustin to exit the car, ignoring his cries of annoyance and pain when her elbow catches his ribs. “Sorry, little Henderson!”

“I don’t even let Steve call me that–”

“Too late, I’ve already decided to call you little Henderson,” Robin climbs out the car, lands with a soft thud on the pavement. She shuts the door with a glint in her eyes before poking her head through your passenger window. “Hey, uh. Y/N?” Her voice drops low, her eyes skirt to Steve, whose cool gaze meets her weary one. Robin clears her throat, you nod your head at her with slight concern. You know that she knows about your argument with Steve. He adores her, what he doesn’t confide in you, he confides in her. Knowing that Robin means well, you soften your voice. “Yeah?”

Robin hesitates, caught between her two favorite people in the entire world. Steve sees her hesitancy and sighs, turning away to provide some semblance of privacy. Relieved, Robin ducks her head down and whispers into your ear, “Talk to him.”

She’s gone before you can exhale. 

Steve starts the car again after Robin has safely made it inside her home. Max and Dustin are quiet in the backseat. As Steve drives, his fingers absentmindedly play with the frayed edges of his leather bracelet. It had been a gift from you, the word constants etched into the material. 

Constants. You were Steve’s constant, he was yours. Through everything you’ve been through together, all the heartbreak suffered in order to fall into one another, he’s the constant within your life. 

Now you’re afraid that you’re losing him. 

There’s still so much Steve doesn’t know. There are stories about your father that you still need to tell him about. Words Jonathan told you last night, the dangerous what if he brought into your life. You’re terrified of how Steve will react, he’s always been so trusting of you and Jonathan even after knowing the history you share. 

And yet Steve also doesn’t know that the future you see involves him, that he’s in it with as much certainty as the sky is blue; you just don’t know how to tell him this, how to articulate the abandonment that sits heavy within your chest that prohibits you from getting what you want in the end.

You have to talk to him. Steve deserves to know everything, all he’s ever asked of you is to be honest with him. 

The broken lamppost in front of Max’s trailer greets you. Steve slows the car, puts it into park. His eyes find hers in the rearview mirror. “This is you, Mayfield.”

“Thanks,” Max responds quietly. She goes to open the car door, but you turn in your seat and stop her. 

“Hey, look at me.” Your tone leaves no room for arguments. She listens, her blue eyes meeting your gaze. For a moment you see Billy’s eyes reflecting within hers. It’s only for a brief second, it ends before you can even realize what’s happened. Startled, you momentarily choke on your words. “I–”

Max raises an eyebrow at you. You’ve been acting strange all night, she doesn’t understand why. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her words couldn’t be more ironic, more painful to hear. “I-I’m sorry.” Billy is dead, he’s gone. You shake your head, try to get his eyes out of your head. “Just… promise me you’ll call if anything happens, please?”

You know that Max isn’t in any danger, she’s safe at home with her mother, but across the street resides yellow caution tape and boarded up windows. Eddie’s trailer is across from Max’s, the proximity makes you uncomfortable. It’s an eerie feeling, Chrissy died here last night. 

Max seems to understand your concern, and she allows herself to nod. She doesn’t want to fight you, not tonight. “I will, promise.”

Squeezing her hand, you leave Max with a soft reminder to get some sleep. She smiles, a hidden joke between the two of you. Both of you know that there will be no sleeping tonight. 

Once she’s gone, it’s just you, Steve, and Dustin remaining in the car. Tension creeps slowly upon the three of you. Dustin’s never ending annoyance towards you clashes with all the unspoken words left floating between you and Steve. 

Dustin coughs awkwardly. Steve’s fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. You keep your head down, your fingers pick at the skin between your nails. The ten minute drive from Max’s house to yours is unbearably long. Stuck at one of Hawkins’ only stop lights, Dustin can’t take the silence any longer.

“Well, this is awkward.” He says to no one in particular. “Lots of tension tonight, huh?”

Neither you nor Steve laugh, and Dustin rests his head against the seat in defeat. He understands why you and him aren’t talking, he’s still angry with you for holding a knife to Eddie’s neck. What he doesn’t understand, however, is why there seems to be so much distance between you and Steve tonight.

Normally you’d be all over one another by now. The two of you can never keep your hands off of each other. As much as Dustin hates it, he’s grown used to the way your hands are always intertwined with Steve’s. Whenever he’s in the car with you guys, your hand always rests against Steve’s arm as he drives. At red lights Steve will always turn to you, pulled in by your smile. 

Except tonight Dustin doesn’t think he’s seen Steve look at you once during the drive home. Your hand rests softly at your side, balled into a small fist. There’s a coldness between the two of you, one Dustin is ashamed to admit that he hadn’t noticed before. 

Then he remembers last night. He’d been too lost in his anger towards you to recognize the tears in your voice. He hadn’t even stopped to consider that you wanted a code blue for any other reason besides lecturing him. His stomach twists with guilt at his own selfish actions. 

Something happened between you and Steve, and you had needed your brother last night. But he had abandoned you, denied the code blue you’d needed so desperately. 

When Steve’s car pulls into your driveway, Dustin runs out as soon as the vehicle stops. He’s frantic to escape his guilt, to escape the chasm that surrounds you and Steve. Slamming the door, he shouts, “Talk to each other!” Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Good luck, Steve!”

The slam of the door echoes into the night. 

It’s just you and Steve, now. 

The air stills between you, reminiscent of the night you drove him home from the Halloween party. A year has passed since then, it’s been so long since Steve’s presence made you feel anything other than peace. The strings that have always followed you constrict against your throat. 

“We need to talk,” Steve says, but at the same time you say, “We need to talk about Jonathan.”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth, slipping through the grooves of your teeth before you can stop them. They’d been building within you all day, fizzling to the surface. And now they spill out into the silence of Steve’s car. 

His head turns to you, the street lights illuminate the shock and confusion on his handsome face. It pinches with bewilderment, he doesn’t understand. He had been ready to apologize to you, despite still not being able to comprehend how you don’t see a future with him. Steve doesn’t want to fight with you anymore, he was ready to just forgive and forget and hold your hand without the weight of guilt behind it.

Steve had been ready to salvage your relationship, and now you want to talk about Jonathan?

“Jonathan?” Shamefully, his voice cracks. He feels like a helpless little kid again, his stomach twists with the foreboding nausea that something bad is about to happen. “Why… why do you want to talk about him?”

The raw frailty on Steve’s face almost kills you. He’s drawing into himself again, preparing for the final blow that will decimate him and everything he knows.

You take a deep breath. This won’t be easy, nothing you’ve ever had to do has been easy. But Steve deserves to know. To hide something from him feels foreign, to lie to him feels like a betrayal. 

“Jonathan, he–” Your voice shakes almost as violently as your hands do. Steve is looking at you but you can’t bear to face him just yet. “He called me last night, after our… after our fight.”

“What did he say, Y/N?” Steve knows, even before you tell him, where this is going. The light in your eyes whenever you talk about Jonathan is gone. His name doesn’t grace your face with a smile. Instead, the grimace of guilt replaces it. Steve’s stomach twists into tighter knots. It’s happening again.

Inhaling, you close your eyes and try to commit to memory the before. How Steve looked at you with such adoration before tonight. How his soft hands, laced with trust, felt against your skin before tonight. His open gaze, one filled with vulnerability, stared into you before tonight. 

Opening your eyes, you exhale. Nothing will ever be the same again. “Jonathan asked me if I ever wondered if… if we made a mistake. Him and I.”

“A mistake?” Steve’s jaw tightens. 

“I think-I think he was asking me if I ever… thought about what could’ve happened between us. If somehow,” you swallow, the words cement in your mouth. “If-if somehow we made a mistake, choosing you and Nancy.”

Steve is quiet. The muscles in his body pull tightly together. He fills with venom, anger and jealousy and hurt; so much hurt. “And you think he’s right.”

It isn’t phrased as a question. 

Immediately your body turns to his. “No! God, no,” your hands search for any expanse of his skin you can find. Steve doesn’t lean into you, he doesn’t react to your touch. Panic overwhelms you, suddenly all you can do is talk and plead and beg. “Steve, I don’t think Jonathan even knew what he was saying, okay? H-he was high, and he’s been so lonely and-and he kept saying things were easy between me and him but-but that’s not how love is supposed to work and I know he’s just scared. He’s scared and he’s never been so alone before and I think-he’s just lost, okay? He’s lost and–” 

“Why are you telling me this, Y/N?” The hardness in Steve’s voice cuts into you, stings your skin. He isn’t screaming, not like he did last night, but you almost wish he were. The way his voice is leveled, cold and hard, scares you even more. 

“Would you rather I didn’t?” You’re helpless against his anger, you know he has every right to be, but you don’t know how to fix this.

Steve laughs bitterly. “I’d rather you not make shitty excuses for the asshole.”

“I’m not making excuses for him, I just wanted you to understand–”

“You are!” His voice raises slightly, almost imperceptibly so, but you hear it anyways. Steve’s chest rises and falls quickly. His hands fly wildly everywhere, he doesn’t know what to do, either. Then, almost as quickly as the anger surfaced, insecurity replaces it. “Is… Jonathan why you don’t see a future with me?”

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, almost as if you’re afraid he’ll slip between your fingers any second now. “I do see a future with you–”

“Pretty fucking hard to believe when you’re wearing the goddamn necklace he got you.” The words drip with acid. They’re hissed out with a jaw clenched so tightly you’re afraid he’ll somehow hurt himself.

The words startle you, catch you off guard. Your hand slips from Steve’s wrist. He’s never once insinuated any jealousy regarding you and Jonathan. He’s always been so trusting of you two together, he’s always been kind towards him. He always knew that he could never touch what you guys have, and yet his gaze now flickers cruelly to the bee pendant that rests against your neck. 

What Steve has said hurts you, deeper than he ever intended to. He knows how you love, how deeply you care for others. It’s who you are. Regardless of the hurt he may be feeling right now, it doesn’t give him the right to throw this crucial part of you back in your face. 

“I’m made of pieces of everyone I’ve ever loved, Steve. You know this.” The bee pendant rests against your skin as heavily as the charm bracelet does. 

And Steve does know that you’re made of pieces of everyone in your life. It’s what he loves the most about you. His eyes follow where your fingers reside, skimming the silver chain that encases your wrist. He hadn’t meant to say what he did, the words had slipped out before he could stop them. 

“Y/N…” Your name is spoken as an apology, it’s all Steve can manage in his shame. 

But the moment is ruined, you’re exhausted and all you want to do is go home. 

You shake your head at Steve, try to hide the tears in your eyes. He sees them anyways. “Can I leave, please?”

The way you ask so delicately to escape breaks Steve. Something in his chest shatters, his mouth fills with the taste of a broken promise. You don’t need his permission, he hates that you feel that you do. 

“Yeah,” his voice is softer than it’s been all night, but it’s too late. He knows this. Swallowing, all Steve can do is be gentle with you. “Yeah, of course you can leave, angel.”

Angel.

You nod at him; if you try to speak you’re afraid you’ll break before him. 

No other words are spoken between you. Steve watches as you leave. 

– 

The next morning you sit hunched over a mug of coffee, more exhausted than ever before. You haven’t slept properly in days now. Dustin finds you with dark circles under your eyes and a pathetic bowl of cereal before you. From the dazed look in your eyes, he knows you haven’t noticed his arrival, and he awkwardly clears his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh.” He scratches the back of his neck, your eyes are slow to look up at him. Pointing to your coffee, Dustin raises his eyebrows. “Rough night, I take it?”

You nod, too tired to say anything else. The cereal goes uneaten. Dustin doesn’t think your coffee is even warm anymore, he hadn’t heard you wake up this morning. He’s worried that you never even went to bed last night. You’re pale, sickly so, and Dustin hates that he hadn’t noticed the signs sooner. 

“Hey,” he pulls a chair beside you, sits down with a playful shove to your shoulder. He’s your brother, it’s his job to take care of you just as much as it’s yours to take care of him. It’s how the two of you have always been. 

For Dustin’s entire life you’ve looked after him, kissing his scraped knees and warding off monsters hidden underneath his bed. When your father left, the depression your mother fell into afterwards left Dustin clinging onto you. You were all he had left. 

Dustin leans against you, he used to do this when he was a little kid and could still fit between your arms. Resting his head against yours, shoulders pressed together, the angle is awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s safe. “Is it too late to have that code blue?”

It’s a peace offering, an extension of an apology, and you can’t help but smile at your brother. Hand finding his mess of curls, you ruffle his hair and laugh softly. “Yeah, guess we can have a code blue now.”

“Good, you know I always love to shit talk Steve.” Dustin says with humor. You both know he admires the boy.

“Language,” you remind him as you always do. Dustin knocks his head against yours in response and the two of you break into laughter; laughing with your brother again feels good.

In between sips of cold coffee and bites of soggy cereal, you tell Dustin about Steve. You explain the original argument a few nights ago, how he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want him to follow you to New York. 

“It’s what mom did with dad,” Dustin says, looking down at the table. 

You nod at him, you knew he’d understand better than anyone. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Does he know what happened with dad?”

“No, and I know I should explain what he did, but there’s–” You cut yourself off. Dustin would kill Jonathan with his bare hands if he found out about the phone call. Even though it technically goes against the rules of a code blue, you can’t tell Dustin about Jonathan. Not yet, at least. Clearing your throat, you continue. “There’s… other things that have prevented me from explaining dad to Steve.”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Other things?”

“Other things,” you look pointedly at him, standing your ground about not elaborating. He denied your original code blue. You’re allowed to lie this one time. “And now Steve thinks that I don’t see a future with him.”

“Well then he’s an idiot.” Your brother scoffs. Anyone with eyes can see how much you fawn over Steve. Dustin has watched you fall for him for years now. “You’re practically ready to marry the guy.”

Taking a bite of cereal, you grimace slightly. “Okay, marriage is a little much–”

“Tell that to mom, she’s already started planning the wedding.” 

Of course she has. She wouldn’t be Claudia Henderson if she wasn’t already planning the names of her grandchildren from Steve. 

The bite of cereal turns into cement, your heartbeat pounds against your throat. With everything going on with Steve, the hurt the two of you have brought down upon the other, you’re not even sure there will be a wedding at the rate things are going. 

As the days go on, you can feel Steve slipping away from you more and more.

Dustin must sense that the subject is hurting you, so he stands from his seat and claps his hands together. “Alright, I feel like we’ve covered our bases for a code blue. Checked all the boxes, felt the feelings needed to be felt.”

“I don’t like the feelings being felt,” you mumble, shoving your bowl away. You’re still drawn into yourself, pale and frail and unlike the lively girl your brother has come to miss. He knows things have been difficult between the two of you, a strain that can’t quite be loosened. 

Dustin falters, his bravado fades. He sighs again and his hand settles against your shoulder. He looks at you with sincerity, his expression softens. “Look, you and Steve will figure things out. You guys always do.”

And he truly believes this. Steve loves you with such a ferocity that rivals your love for him. Dustin can’t imagine a world in which you’re no longer with Steve, where he’s let go of you and allowed you to walk away. 

Except Dustin doesn’t know how to express this to you, but you can understand him anyways. Placing your hand over his, you squeeze it. “Thanks, Dustin.”

He smiles back at you and the code blue is over. The moment lingers for only a second longer before he frowns and sits back down next to you. “Do you think Eddie will be okay?”

And there it is. Eddie fucking Munson again. 

Shoving down your annoyance, you force yourself to focus on the situation from last night. As hurt as you are that Dustin wants to talk about Eddie right now, you can understand why he would. Chrissy died in front of him, he’s being accused of murder. 

You’re just being childish, easily irritated from lack of sleep and the stress of it all. 

“I don’t know, I mean…the cops will be looking for him.” With ease you fall back into strategizing, putting the situation above your own thoughts and feelings. Your mind spins with everything you need to do, trying to come up with whatever you can do to help. “If we have any shot of protecting him, we need to figure out what they know.”

Dustin nods, following along. “Cerebro can tap into the Hawkins PD system, we can easily get intel from there.”

“It terrifies me that Cerebro can hack into our town’s police system.”

“Be grateful I stopped there, Suzie wouldn’t let me use it to tap into NASA.”

You learn two things after using Cerebro to gather information. 

One, the radio is far too powerful to reside in your fourteen year old brother’s hands. He’s able to access the PD system with incredible ease, almost as if he’s done so before. It’d be impressive if you didn’t know the horrors that went on inside the kid’s head.

Two, Eddie is well and truly fucked. 

He’s the main suspect. They think he’s killed Chrissy and have every man in the force scouring Hawkins to find him. Her death was gruesome, you understand the manhunt that unfolds. Dustin, however, nearly loses his mind when he hears chief Powell instructing his men to search Eddie’s neighborhood for the teen. 

“We have to go warn him,” Dustin scrambles to his feet, the chair almost toppling over in his haste. “We need to leave, now.”

There isn’t time to argue, Dustin is already ringing Steve’s number. Either he’s already forgotten about your argument with the teen, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Regardless, the thought of seeing Steve again so soon after last night makes your stomach churn. You want to stop Dustin, make up some excuse to him about why you can’t help Eddie, but you know it wouldn’t matter. Your brother would only beg you to come, your worry for him would force you to listen. 

All you can do is drop your head into your hands and sigh.

– 

It was your idea to stop and get Eddie food. 

Steve had arrived at your house within minutes. Dustin immediately went for the passenger seat, which was more than okay with you, and Steve had mumbled a soft “hello” to the two of you. His greeting went ignored by you, still trying to find your breath around him, and Dustin, who promptly demanded that Steve pick up Robin and Max before returning to the boathouse. 

Halfway to Max’s, the silence in the car was thickening rapidly, so you offhandedly suggested stopping at the local grocery store to get Eddie some food and water. You figured he would appreciate the small act of kindness, especially considering the grime news you’d be delivering to him soon. That, and it’d give you an excuse to leave Steve’s car for a few moments and steady your breathing. 

The boathouse isn’t nearly as creepy in the daylight, but still you make sure your knives are in your pocket before approaching it. Robin walks beside you, helping you and Dustin carry the groceries, while Max and Steve walk silently behind. 

“Think we got him enough?” Robin asks, holding up one of the grocery bags. “I mean, don’t stoners eat a lot? Munchies or whatever?”

Rolling your eyes, you undo one of the buttons on your sweater, allowing the crisp spring air to soak your body. The sun is too warm to be worrying about whatever stoners eat. “If he complains, then he can starve.” 

“Cat’s got claws today,” Robin nudges you with her arm. Turning to make sure Steve is far enough away so he doesn’t overhear, she lowers her voice. “Guessing the talk didn’t go well last night?”

“Oh, it was just peachy,” you grit out through a forced smile. “But we have to focus on harboring a murder suspect right now.” Because nothing in your life can ever be simple. If you aren’t hunting monsters, you’re protecting the town. If you aren’t protecting the town, you’re fighting alternate dimensions.

Robin opens her mouth to say something, but Dustin shoulders past her and bursts through the boathouse doors, ending your conversation. “Delivery service!” 

Eddie nearly has a heart attack at the abrupt entrance. He jumps out of his skin and clutches at his chest after letting out a very unmanly yelp. The reaction is almost enough to brighten your foul mood, momentarily forgetting that Steve stands behind you. 

“Someone’s jumpy,” you sidestep your brother and walk over towards the table. Setting the groceries down, you begin to unload them. “We got you some food, but please don’t eat it all at once. I really don’t want to spend any more money on you.”

“Thanks…?” Eddie slowly approaches you, both relieved for the food and offended you seem so begrudged to have gotten it for him in the first place. From his few interactions with you since last night, he’s coming to learn that you’re far from the girl who showed him such selfless kindness all those years ago.

Eddie doesn’t think you even remember what you did for him. He had been at such a low point in his life, one failed exam away from dropping out of high school and disappointing his uncle, until you appeared. It’d been your sophomore year, Eddie’s failed one, and you had given him your pencil.

The action had been small, meniscal, yet it saved Eddie’s life. He hadn’t brought his own pencil for some stupid English exam. He’d been too nervous for it that he had forgotten his, and Mrs. Greer, the teacher who couldn’t have cared less whether or not Eddie died, threatened to fail him. 

The threat sank deep into his bones, freezing his intestines with dread. Eddie had promised his uncle he’d try harder in school, that he’d graduate, and yet he couldn't do something as simple as bringing a pencil to an exam. Close to tears, embarrassed and overwhelmed, Eddie almost hadn’t registered your softly whispered voice.

“Here,” you tapped his shoulder. Eddie remembers turning around, surprised you were even talking to him, and he remembers the immediate relief that sagged his bones when he saw the pencil extended in offering. He had nodded curtly at you before frantically rushing to begin the exam. He’d already wasted five minutes, he couldn’t afford any more. 

It would only be later that Eddie learned you willingly failed the exam because you’d given him your only pencil, just so he wouldn’t fail. In the end, he passed. It was the first exam Eddie had passed in a long, long time; his uncle had been so proud of him that he bought him his electric guitar.

Eddie never thanked you for that. 

And now you stand in front of him, once again extending your arm out to him with yet another offering, but your eyes are cold. Your body is tense around Eddie’s, he doesn’t miss the wide berth you seem to always give him. 

“Thanks,” he says to you again, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He accepts the box of cereal you offer him and he wills himself to smile. “I, uh. Appreciate it. I’d offer to pay you back, but…”

“You’re wanted for murder.” You finish for Eddie. 

He drops his head. “Yeah, it kinda ruins a person’s life, ya know?”

“I don’t, actually. Never been accused of killing someone.”

Eddie blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to do with the disdain you display towards him. “Right.” He looks at Dustin for help, silently begging the kid to step in before you gut him with your knives.

“Okay, why don’t you crack open that box of honey combs while we all gather around for a fun story time!” Dustin sets down the remaining groceries and ushers everyone to spread around the boathouse. 

“‘Storytime’?” Eddie asks him, looking around in confusion. 

“Y/N and Dustin did some detective work,” Robin offers him, trying to make her voice sound as cheery as possible. “They-uh. Well they found-I mean,” she doesn’t know how to break the news to Eddie, she feels awful for the guy. Deflating, she mumbles, “They’re definitely good detectives.”

Eddie only looks more confused by this, and Dustin sits down awkwardly on a stool next to you. “So, we got, uh. Some good news and some bad news.”

You snort at your brother. Steve stands next to you, his body angled away from you so that your skin doesn’t touch. The distance is small enough to go unnoticed by anyone, yet it’s a chasm that your stomach drops into. “That’s really how you’re gonna break it to him?” 

“What are you guys breaking to me?” Eddie asks, eyes wide.

Dustin hits your leg and gets the teen’s attention. “Ignore her, look at me, alright? Now, how do you prefer it? Good or bad first?”

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie doesn’t even think about his answer, he responds immediately while shoving cereal into his mouth. 

“The bad news is that you’re pretty fucked.” You inform him, arms crossed over your chest. There’s no easy way to lessen the blow of what you overhead from Hawkins PD. The news is bad, it’s all bad. 

Dustin snaps his head towards you, “Y/N!”

“I’m not going to lie to the guy or sugarcoat things!” 

“Would you just let me handle it–”

“Dustin,” Eddie hasn’t moved from his seat. His hand remains in the cereal box, his voice jagged and defeated. He’s tired. He just wants to go home. “Just say it.”

Your brother’s shoulders drop, the anger in his eyes extinguished. “We… We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.”

“Chief Powell thinks you killed Chrissy.” Unable to look at Eddie, your eyes trace the ground. As much as you hate him, you can’t help but feel awful for the hand he’s been dealt. No one will possibly believe he’s innocent. “He ordered all his men to track you down before word gets out that you’re the prime suspect.”

“Which leads us to the good news: your name hasn’t gone public yet.” Robin continues for you, her own expression pitying. “But if Y/N and Dustin could find out about you during breakfast, then it’s a matter of time before others do, too.”

“And once that gets out,” you shake your head, you know how cruel a small town like Hawkins can be. “There’s going to be a lot of angry people who know your name.”

Eddie clenches his jaw. You can see tears forming in his eyes; you’re not sure if they’re from frustration or fear. He inhales sharply, licks his lips in disdain. “Hunt the freak, right?”

It’s the way he says it, with so much despair and venom in his voice. The look of resignation on Eddie’s face breaks your heart. He knows his odds, he’s been tormented and abused his entire life by the people in Hawkins. You’ve heard all the stories. The exile he faced because of how he looked, who he would hang out with, the music he listened to and the drugs he smoked. 

Eddie Munson, the freak. The moment the town finds out he’s wanted for murder, you’re afraid he’ll never come out of it alive. 

The ice-hot contempt you feel for him begins to melt. He’s only a year or two older than you, still just a scared kid with no place to call home anymore. Despite the protests of your body, you step towards Eddie and place a hand on his shoulder. Your hand is tense, your fingers scratch on the rough material of his denim jacket, but he seems to calm at the touch. 

“Hey, we’ll protect the freak, alright?” You mean what you tell him, your hand warms his skin. Whatever history you have with Eddie, good or bad, it doesn’t matter right now. He needs you, he’s lost and alone. 

Eddie looks up at you, your kindness startles him slightly, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his eyes find yours. They’re brown, almost doe-eyed, with a vulnerability within them so intense that it leaves a lump in your throat. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Eddie.” Dustin’s voice cuts through, reminding you of where you are. Stumbling slightly, you remove your hand and walk back over to Steve, who gives you an odd, confused look. You ignore him. “We have to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.” 

“That’s all, Dustin?” Eddie mocks, he doesn’t stand a chance and he knows it.

Dustin draws into himself, uncertain, before letting out a feeble response. You allow yourself to smile, enjoying his wallowing. You understand where Eddie is coming from. “It is a lot that we have to do in order to clear his name.”

“Okay, I know that everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before.” Robin tries to reassure him. She’s leaning against a doorframe, she’s trying her best not to let her own uncertainty show. 

“We’ve been here before,” you say with slight bitterness. “You’d be surprised how many times we’ve almost died.”

Robin laughs nervously. “Well, mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related. I didn’t necessarily almost die, but Y/N has some pretty sick scars on her body and Steve has been concussed more times than he’s had girlfriends–”

“Get to the point, Robin.” Steve finally speaks up, no hint of amusement in his voice. His hand rests besides yours, his fingers ache to curl against your skin. You’re wearing a soft blue sweater, tucked into your skirt, and your eyes shine against the spring cold. He doesn’t want to be here right now.

“Right. The bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.”

Unable to bear the itch in his skin to touch you, Steve brings his hand to his face and rubs at his jaw to distract himself. “Except we usually rely on this girl who has superpowers, but-uh. Those went bye-bye, so–”

“And she’s in California, hundreds of miles from here.” You add on, picking at your nails. The topic makes you uncomfortable. With California comes the reminder of Jonathan.

Robin points at you and Steve. “Both good points, so I guess you could say we’re more in the-in the…?”

“Brainstorming phase.” Max supplies, which Steve snaps his fingers in agreement and Dustin hums thoughtfully. 

“There’s-uh. There’s nothing to worry about!” Your brother says unconvincingly, voice high pitched and full of lies. 

Eddie stares at everyone around him, studying the collective mess that he somehow must place all his trust in. None of you can give him a straight answer about what will happen next, and as you listen to Steve and Dustin try again to make sense of what’s going on, you recognize how hopeless it all sounds. 

“We may not sound like much,” you interrupt the boys, trying again to ease the hopelessness Eddie must be feeling. “But we’re kind of your only option right now–”

The distant wailing of sirens drown out your words, loud and piercing. The sound sets everyone into a panic. Robin instructs Dustin to cover Eddie with a tarp while you, Max, and Steve run towards the window. Squished together, you watch as multiple cop cars fly down the street with an ambulance following them; your breath catches. 

The last time you saw this many cop cars speeding through Hawkins, they had been a dead body in the quarry. It had been Will’s body, lifeless and pale. You had watched as his body was pulled from the water, you held Lucas and Dustin as they cried.

Only this time Will is in California, far away from danger. The onslaught of cars can only mean one thing. 

“I think…” Your mouth fills with syrupy dread, coating your tongue with grief. Breathing becomes difficult. You hope, more than anything, that you’re wrong. “I think someone else died.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Steve grabs his keys and instructs everyone to get into his car. He doesn't ask any questions, he doesn’t question how you know. Dustin quickly tells Eddie to stay in the boathouse while you leave. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as Steve drives, your hand clutches the seat in terror. Every second that passes, your body becomes heavier and heavier from dread. Steve’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel. Robin can’t look at you, Max and Dustin don’t say a word.

The white blanket draped over a body is what you see first. A horde of police surround it, there are lights flashing everywhere. People crowd behind a barricade, necks straining to get a look at the body on the ground. 

Then you see who the cops are talking to, and your heart drops. 

“Nancy,” you breathe out, already opening Steve’s door before he can even park the car. Something terrible has happened. Nancy stands in front of the officers, her arms crossed against her chest as if to calm herself down. She’s never looked so weak, she needs you.

Standing outside the car, the others join you. Steve has parked as close as he can to the crime scene, no one moves. Nancy releases a shaky breath when her eyes find yours. Raising her hand, she waves at you, unsure, and you wave back. She smiles, timid but genuine, and a pit forms in your stomach.

You haven’t told Nancy about Jonathan. 

Steve looks away from her, gaze turning towards you, and he’s thinking the same thing. 

– 

Nancy guides everyone to a park bench at the trailer park. She doesn’t say anything as you all walk, her eyes are exhausted. The police hadn’t wanted her to leave just yet, they had more questions for her, but you’d quickly spoke with the men to let her go. 

Sitting around the table, a bitter cold creeps into the air. The sun is out yet winter still lingers. Nancy sits across from you with Robin and Max next to her. You’re with the boys, Steve pushes his weight against you while Dustin sits stiffly beside you. 

Seeing Nancy’s sunken cheeks and glass eyes, you reach across the table and grab her hand. “What happened, Nance?”

Tears well in her eyes and for once she doesn’t wipe them away. Nancy’s hand twitches in yours, she doesn’t hold onto you like you do her. She’s grieving, you’ve come to learn all the signs of someone who has lost a friend. “It-it’s Fred.”

She explains what they’d been doing, investigating Chrissy’s death at the trailer park. Guilt laces her words, she didn’t think anything would happen to Fred. He’s always been sweet to her, his crush obvious to you but unknown to her. A shiver runs through you; Fred was smart, he was nice to you whenever you spent your days in the yearbook room. 

He didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Chrissy. 

“That makes two deaths in two days,” you say out loud, voicing what everyone else is thinking. Death is common in Hawkins, an inevitability of what lies underneath it, but there’s never been such gruesome deaths so close together. “It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening again?” Nancy shakes her head. “I-I don’t understand, you guys already know what’s causing all of this?”

“We have a working theory, but it’s… not great.” Dustin slouches down, he isn’t sure how much he can explain to the girl with all that he still doesn’t know. “We think it’s connected to Chrissy’s death, something killed her in Eddie’s trailer. He told us she had gone into some sort of trance before her bones snapped and her eyes exploded..”

Nancy grimaces at the gory imagery and you squeeze her hand again. “I’m sorry about Fred.”

She gives you a tight smile before turning to your brother. “A trance? Like El? You aren’t… do you really think this has something to do with–”

“The Upside Down.” You and Max say at the same time.

“‘It’s happening again’,” Nancy echoes your words from moments ago. She understands, now. “So this-this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy is from the Upside Down?”

Steve nods at her and Dustin sighs heavily. “We think he attacks with a spell, or maybe even a curse.”

“But we don’t know if he’s under the Mind Flayer’s control,” you point out. “For all we know, he could just be someone with El’s powers. We know the lab tested on other kids, right?”

Max looks up at you and her face twists with apprehension. “I don’t know, something feels different about this, it’s almost like it’s something new. I don’t think it’s anyone like El.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Nancy mumbles.

“No, I think Max is right. Something feels off about all of this.” Your arms draw together, it’s impossibly cold for late March. The chill has set into your bones. 

Nancy nods at you, but there’s something else on her mind. “But Fred and Chrissy also don’t make sense. I mean, why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Dustin offers, and you shiver again.

Billy had been in the wrong place, too. It’s how the Mind Flayer got him. He’d just been unlucky and alone.

“And the trailer park,” Max adds.

Steve’s eyes widen slightly, he shifts against you and unconsciously moves you closer to him. “We’re at the trailer park, should we… maybe not be here?”

The wind picks up and a crow cries overhead. The barren grass rustles as shadows fall against it. Your spine prickles with nerves. Steve is right to be worried. There’s something eerie about the trailer park, the caution tape that guards Eddie’s door is still too fresh. 

You wrap your sweater tighter to your body, cold with unease. Nancy’s eyes flicker around the park as the wind rustles the leaves. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin asks what she means, and when Nancy begins to explain how scared and on edge Fred had been, a dull throb slowly creeps up the base of your neck. The sensation builds until it’s a roar of nerve endings exploding against your temple, and you wince in pain.

Steve’s fingers skim the crest of your wrist. “Hey,” he’s lowered his voice so the others can’t hear, he knows you never like to worry others. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” the concern in Steve’s eyes burns you. He hasn’t spoken to you all day, but still his skin warms yours and he wants to make sure you’re safe. Comfortable. Okay. Even with the anger between you and all the unspoken half-truths, he still cares about you. 

You want to tell him that you haven’t slept in days, that the nightmares are back and that they’re worse than ever before. You want to rest your head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It’s the only way you’ve been able to keep the migraines at bay. 

But you don’t tell Steve any of this. Instead, you lie through your teeth. “I’m fine,” you reassure him again. There isn’t time for you not to be okay. Two people have died already, your migraines can wait. 

Steve doesn’t look convinced. He knows you, he knows how you are and how much you push down for the sake of others, but before he can press you further, Robin interrupts. “Hey, lovebirds, we’re trying to solve a murder case here.”

“I’m listening,” you roll your eyes at her, skin flushing a bit with embarrassment. “Anyways, what if Fred and Chrissy saw something that made them go catatonic? I think we should be focusing on the trace-like state more, it’s a trauma response.”

“What, so they’re insane asylum patients?” Dustin asks with slight displeasure. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. But Vecna can cast spells, at least in DnD. I don’t think they just ‘saw’ something.” 

Steve scratches his nose. “If I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Would you, though?” You don’t mean for the question to come off as condescending, and you quickly try to alleviate the offended look on the teen’s face. “What I mean is, who would you go to about something like that?”

“I… I think I know who they’d go to.” Max stares down at the table, her eyebrows furrowed together. She’s deep in thought, remembering something. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelly’s office. If you saw a monster, you wouldn’t go to the police.”

“They’d never believe you,” you bear your weight against the table. Nostalgia wraps around you at the memory of how scared you’d been to tell Hopper about El, the years it took for you to trust him. “That’s why I never went to Hopper when I first found El.”

Max nods, she’s relieved you get where she’s going with this. “Exactly, but you might go to your–”

“Shrink.” Robin finishes, sending you an apologetic smile for the offensive language against the profession you hope to one day go into. “No offense, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, feeling defensive. “Again with calling Ms. Kelly a shrink. She’s not a shrink, she’s actually really nice.”

“You sound like you know her personally.” Dustin narrows his eyes at you. Nothing goes unnoticed by him. 

All eyes turn to you, and you sink down in embarrassment. “I’ve… had a few meetings with her.”

Simultaneously both Steve and Dustin widen their eyes. They hadn’t known you were seeing Ms. Kelly. Nancy looks at you curiously, Robin bites her lip, and Max nods solemnly. It’s a large range of reactions, one that makes you anxious to deal with. “Can everyone stop staring at me, please?”

Steve lets out a quick breath and runs a hand through his hair. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing the school’s guidance counselor, Y/N.”

“She didn’t tell me, either.” Dustin mumbles bitterly. You’ve never hidden anything from him before. He wonders, distantly, when you started to.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys, it really isn’t a big deal.” When both boys bristle at this, you hold your hand up to silence them. “No, I don’t want to hear it. It’s not like I was seeing Ms. Kelly for anything serious, okay? She’s the guidance counselor, so I just. You know. Needed some guidance.”

It’s a horrible lie, you know that no one believes you, but they take pity on you and move on. Originally you really were seeing Ms. Kelly for college admissions help, but after a few sessions you slowly started opening up to her about the sleepless nights. The image of Billy’s lifeless body. Max’s screams. 

Nancy clears her throat and changes the topic. She comes up with what to do next, creating a plan to ask Ms. Kelly what she knows, and you sit silently. You’re relieved the attention is finally off of you. Within minutes a plan is formed: you and Max will talk to Ms. Kelly to try and get more information.

Steve agrees to drive to the house. As you’re walking to his passenger side door, he notices that Nancy isn’t following. Instead, she’s going to her own car. “Hey, Nance. Where’re you going?”

Nancy turns around, a guilty but determined look on her face. Her eyes land on you, knowing you’ll be the hardest to convince of her plan. “There’s just-there’s something I want to check on first.”

Predictably, your shoulders tense and your eyes ignite with worry. “Please don’t make me remind you that there are people dying right now. You can’t seriously think it’s safe to be on your own.”

“I can protect myself, Y/N.” Nancy reminds you gently, understanding your concern but knowing it isn’t needed.

“You care to share with the rest of us?” Dustin calls over to the two of you.

“I don’t want to waste your time,” Nancy shoves her hands into her jean jacket. “It’s… a real shot in the dark.”

You frown at this. “If it’s something you think is worth looking into, then it isn’t a shot in the dark. You’ve always been right.”

Nancy blushes at your words, but Steve silently fumes beside you. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you guys out of your mind? No way is Nancy flying solo with Vecna on the loose.”

“I never said that she should fly solo,” you say slowly, not at all liking how he’s twisting your words. You had been complimenting Nancy’s intelligence, restoring her faith back into her work. You don’t understand where this protectiveness from Steve is coming from. “I know it’s too dangerous, that’s why I was going to suggest–”

“You’re right. It’s too dangerous. Bottom line. She needs someone to-Christ.” Steve isn’t listening. He’s too caught up in his head as tosses his keys to Robin, who only barely manages to catch them. “Here, Y/N and I will stick with Nance.”

You cross your arms and glare at him. “I’m sorry?”

Steve doesn’t look at you, he’s too busy staring at Nancy, and for a brief second you truly believe that there’s something soft in his gaze when he looks at her. They’re friends, you know this. There’s a history between them that rivals your history with Jonathan. Nancy was Steve’s first love, and now he loves you, and you try desperately to shake the insecurity that you feel. 

If you’re being completely honest, you’re not even sure why you’re suddenly thinking all of this. You’ve never been insecure, at least not in your relationship with Steve. During the almost year you’ve been with him, there’ve been times girls have flirted with him or old flings that have tried to vie for his attention. But through it all your trust in him never wavered, you knew that at the end of the day it was your bed he was crawling into. 

And yet there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you that the way Steve is looking at Nancy right now is different; it’s how he looks at you. The voice is darker, more cruel. It’s one you don’t recognize, and yet you do. 

Steve seems to come back to himself and turns to you. “Robin can go with the kids to the shrink. Max can talk to her alone, it’s no big deal.”

Robin holds the keys away from her as if they’re poisoned. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have a license.”

Steve shakes his head with impatience. “Why don’t you have a license?”

“I’m poor,” Robin shrugs, and you laugh slightly. 

Max raises her hand. “I can drive.”

“No!” You and Steve exclaim at the same time, both of you getting war flashbacks to when Max had driven you after Billy had knocked you guys unconscious. It’d been a rough night and waking up to a thirteen year old driving a sports car definitely hadn't helped. 

“Please,” you look at Max with genuine longing. “Never, ever drive me ever again.”

“Literally anyone but you–” Steve sees Dustin make a face, offering himself to drive, and the older teen snaps his fingers at him in annoyance. “No chance.”

You shake your head as well. No way in hell are you allowing the kid to drive either. “Absolutely not, Dustin. You couldn’t even drive a golf cart properly.”

“I did a decent job!”

“I still think you’re the one who gave Steve his third concussion with your horrible braking.”

“We were being chased by evil Russians!” 

Robin steps between you and your brother, holding her hands up. “Alright, this is stupid.” She grabs Dustin’s walkie from his backpack and marches to Nancy while handing Steve his keys. “Us ladies, sans Y/N, will stick together. Unless Steve thinks we need him to protect us?”

She raises her eyebrows, challenging the teen, and you watch him. He shuffles nervously, ducks his head down. Steve is guilty and ashamed and embarrassed. Your stomach clenches. 

“He knows better than to doubt you guys,” you step in for him, saving him. “Right, Steve?”

Nancy laughs at the look of fear on his face and Robin smirks. Satisfied, they turn around and start to head towards Nancy’s car. You wish them luck as they leave, tell them to be safe. They wave back at you, and although you wish you could join them, you know that Max will want you by her side while she talks to Ms. Kelly. 

Once the girls are gone, you hit Steve’s chest. “Nice one, buddy.”

He lets out a pained huff, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows he had it coming. With a sigh he follows you back to his car and gets into the driver’s seat. Dustin stares at him through the rearview mirror with a shit eating grin on his face. Tired, Steve glares at him. “Not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Dustin defends himself.

“No, but you were going to, and-hey,” Steve turns in his seat and glares even more at your brother. “Did you make sure to wipe your feet?”

“Yes,” Dustin says at the same time as you and Max say, “No.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and starts the car angrily. His movements are jerky and uncontrolled. “Always the goddamn babysitter!” He exclaims, resentment marring his face.

You jump slightly at his raised voice. He hates being sidelined, you know this. Similar to you, all Steve ever wants to do is help. He does whatever he can, he tries harder than anyone. It’s what you first fell for, back when Steve originally crashed into your life. 

It’s because of his kindness and devotion to others that you reach for Steve’s hand. His skin is cold, goosebumps raise at your touch, but you interlock your fingers through his and slowly, piece by piece, Steve relaxes. 

He’s missed your touch. You’ve missed his, too.

– 

Ms. Kelly, to her credit, tries to mask her surprise when she sees you and Max standing at her door. “Oh, hello, girls.”

“Hi,” you smile kindly at the woman. “We really hate to bother you over spring break, but do you possibly have a minute to talk?”

“With the two of you?” Ms. Kelly knew that you and Max were both grieving Billy, but she hadn’t known that you knew each other. “Y/N, I’m sure you’re aware that this is highly unusual to request.”

You wince. “Yeah, I’m definitely aware that this is a pretty strange thing to ask. It’s just that I was the one who convinced Max to start seeing you in the first place, and now that I’m also seeing you, we figured we could… talk to you together?”

It’s a horrible excuse. The lie is vague and too transparent to believe. Neither you or Max had a lot of time to come up with a convincing cover story during the drive here. 

“I don’t know,” Ms. Kelly’s face strains with contemplation. 

Max softens her eyes and does her best to look small, pleading. “Please?”

You try to appear troubled as well, though it isn’t hard. Your headache hasn’t left. The pounding in your head has only intensified since leaving the trailer park. Ms. Kelly’s gaze flits between you and Max, reading for any signs of lying or ill-will, before her resolve crumbles.

“Oh, alright.” She opens her door wider, ushers the two of you inside. “Come in.”

Steve and Dustin watch as you disappear inside the house. They’ve parked across the street, opting to be the lookout in case anything happens. You spare one last glance over your shoulder, eyes meeting Steve’s, before Ms. Kelly closes the door. 

“Okay, they’re in.” Steve states the obvious, slightly unsettled to be stuck in the car while you’re inside.

“I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.” Dustin snorts. He expects Steve to say something snarky in response, but then he notices that the teen is still staring longly out the window, tracing Ms. Kelly’s door. He looks pathetic, waiting for you, and Dustin sighs. “So… we gonna talk about it?”

Steve’s eyes linger on the doorway, a far off look on his face. When he realizes that Dustin has spoken, he turns to him slowly. “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?”

“Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance? In front of my sister?” 

“Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.”

Dustin glares at Steve, defensive over you. “Oh, really? I’m pretty sure it did, there were a lot of witnesses. Y/N included.”

“What are you implying, little Henderson?” Steve rubs his face, too tired for the kid’s mind games. He knows he was being weird earlier with Nancy, but he would never do that to you. Ever. He had simply been overwhelmed and confused and feeling a multitude of things that he still isn’t ready to face.

“I’m not implying anything,” Dustin puts his hands up. “All I’m saying is that I know you and Y/N have been fighting lately and that for some stupid reason, you’re doubting your relationship.”

Steve throws his head back against the seat. Of course you told Dustin about last night. “Look, I’m not-I’m not doubting our relationship, alright? I mean, I love her, man. So, so much. We just… things have been hard, lately. Really fucking hard.”

He isn’t sure how much you’ve told your brother. He doesn’t think you’d tell him about Jonathan, at least not until you know yourself whatever the hell he’d been trying to tell you the other night. 

Dustin doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He stares past Steve, his eyes almost seem to glaze over. “It’s because she’s leaving, isn’t it?”

All the air in Steve’s lungs gets knocked out of him. “Yes,” he breathes out. His mouth is dry. He swallows, his tongue feels too thick for his mouth. “Sometimes it feels like she’s, I don’t know, like she’s outgrown me? I-I know it’s stupid, but she’s going so far for college and I’m stuck in Hawkins like some fucking moron and she-she didn’t want me going with her.” 

“Did you know that I cried when she got into NYU?” Dustin asks him, a hurt smile on his face. When Steve shakes his head, the boy inhales deeply. “Yeah, cried like a baby the whole night. I mean, I knew she applied, I knew she’d get in, but… you’re right. She is going pretty far. I’ve never,” he wipes at his eyes quickly, embarrassed that he’s crying. “I’ve never had to spend a single day without my sister.”

Steve stares at your brother, finally beginning to understand the distance between the two of you. For weeks now it’s all you’ve complained about to Steve. How much you resented Eddie for being Dustin’s new favorite person, how much you miss singing with him in the kitchen while you baked. But now here Dustin is, teary eyed, explaining to Steve just how scared he is to be without his sister. “It feels like she’s leaving you, too.”

“Yeah,” Dustin wipes his eyes again, nodding. “Yeah, sometimes it feels like she can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Even though we’ll still be here,” Steve says solemnly. 

It’s quiet again. A few birds sing in the tree above them. You and Max haven’t returned, yet. After a while, Dustin turns to Steve. “She doesn’t mean it, you know.”

“Who?”

“Y/N,” the boy clarifies, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “She doesn’t mean it when she says she doesn’t want you going with her to New York. She’s just… she’s scared, and she knows that it isn’t what you really want. Nothing gets past her, it’s really annoying.”

Steve scoffs a bit, fondness running through him. Dustin’s right. Nothing ever gets past you, you notice and see everything. But then he thinks about what your brother has said, the fear he hadn’t known about. “Why would she be scared?” 

Dustin stiffens in his seat, his gaze once again blurs. He twists his hands anxiously, fixes his hat. The atmosphere shifts, Steve can see that he’s uncomfortable now. He’s about to tell Dustin that he doesn’t have to answer, but the kid does anyways. “Our parents, they-um. Met in college.”

Steve sits up as well. You and Dustin never talk about your parents, at least not about your father. Steve can’t remember the last time you’ve even mentioned him. He thinks maybe the man had called you once, during Christmas. 

“They got married right before graduation. Our mom had been pregnant with Y/N, they got hitched and in their marital bliss, our dad somehow convinced our mom to leave Indiana. She grew up here, but our dad was from Virginia and he insisted that she move there.”

Bitter. Dustin is bitter.

“Everything was fine, I guess. I liked Virginia. Y/N did, too. But our mom was lonely, anyone could see that. We lived in a pretty small town, our dad was basically a goddamn Kennedy there. Everyone adored him, but our mom… things were different for her. She was always in his shadow, but Y/N and I were too young to notice for a long time.”

Steve swallows. “And then… the divorce?” 

“The stupid fucking divorce.” Dustin spits out. “It wasn’t a surprise, but somehow we still felt blindsided. One day our dad was charming, cracking jokes with everyone and playing the guitar with us, then the next he just-he snapped. Became bitter, mean. Y/N idolized him, but when our parents started fighting every night and our mom cried over some woman named Carry… I lost my sister, for a while.”

“She told me,” Steve whispers, remembering the rawness in your voice the night you confessed to him that you were once cruel. “I had to remind her that she came back, in the end.”

The corners of Dustin’s mouth turn upwards slightly. “Yeah, she came back.” But then his expression darkens, his mood sours. “Our mother almost didn’t, though. After having to move back to Hawkins with barely any money to support us, it basically destroyed her. She had lost all her friends by that point, her own parents died while we lived in Virginia.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve’s throat constricts. He hadn’t known any of this. He feels like such an asshole now for assuming the worst in you. For allowing his own insecurities to blind him. “I-I didn’t know about any of that.” 

“Yeah, well.” Dustin shrugs. “Now you do. And you need to know that Y/N is being her usual selfless self because of our mom and what happened to her. She doesn't want that happening to you, dipshit.”

Steve exhales through his nose, his head is swimming with so many more questions, so many apologies he wishes he could say. Instead, he stares out the window, waiting for you to return. 

–

“So, what would you girls like to discuss with me?” The clock on Ms. Kelly’s walk ticks ominously behind her. She’s seated you and Max in her basement den. You can tell by the stack of books and messy desk that she uses the area as her makeshift office. 

Max slouches against her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing too serious, we were just–”

“I’m worried about Max.” You interrupt the girl, not daring to look at her.

Ms. Kelly raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think with all the murders happening, it might be affecting her.” It isn’t necessarily a lie. You have been worried about Max and her behavior. Especially these last few weeks. “It might be resurfacing some… memories.”

Max tries to argue, but Ms. Kelly holds her hand up. “You’ve both experienced trauma, Y/N. She lost her brother while you held his dying body.”

A lump forms in your throat, your lungs feel cold. 

The woman turns to Max, now. “And when you keep your feelings in, your pain, bottled up the way you do, it doesn’t take much to trigger them again. I can see why Y/N may be worried.”

Max doesn’t meet Ms. Kelly’s eyes. She swallows heavily and looks down at her hands. “Yeah, I know.”

“You know you can always talk to me, Max.” You say softly, wanting desperately to reach out to her. But you’re afraid it’ll only drive her further away.

She frowns at you. “Like how you talk to Dustin, or even to Steve?”

Her accusation cuts deeply. You hadn’t known that she was paying attention to you. That your disguised “I’m fine’s” weren’t convincing her. Max must know this, because she lowers her eyes again and mumbles a quiet apology. 

Ms. Kelly notices the tension and leans between the two of you. “Do you think you’re ready to talk more about that night?”

Max’s eyes gloss over briefly, her face distorts with discomfort. An onslaught of memories overtakes her, just as they overtake you. The echoes of her screams for her brother replay in your mind over and over again. The squelch of Billy’s blood trickles down your spine. You were right next to her when it happened. The blood still stains your clothes from that night at Starcourt. 

“I live next door to where it happened.” Max changes the subject, her voice returning. When Ms. Kelly asks for more clarification, she continues. “Next to where Chrissy was murdered. The cops asked me a bunch of questions. Did they talk to you?”

The woman sits up, apprehensive. She hadn’t been expecting to talk about this. You sit there quietly, head still pounding from earlier as Max takes over. She interrogates Ms. Kelly, who does her best to dodge every question, and suddenly the warmth in the room becomes unbearable. 

“Excuse me,” you stand up, hand clutching your stomach. Nausea swirls within you. You feel faint, the pounding has increased and sweat trickles down your neck. Both Max and Ms. Kelly look at you in concern, but you ignore them.

Blindly you stumble towards the kitchen you remember seeing when you arrived. Too nauseous and overwhelmed to care about niceties, you dig through Ms. Kelly’s cupboards until you find a cup. After filling it with water, the icey coolness of the liquid settles uneasily in your stomach. You lean over the sink, hands clutching the edge. Everything in your body feels unsteady.

Max comes up the stairs and finds you breathing heavily. “You’re not going to hurl, are you?”

“Trying really hard not to right now,” you breathe through your nose, out through your mouth. “Thanks for the concern.”

No response comes. Instead, footsteps walk up behind you. You hear metal clanking against glass, and when you turn around, you find Max holding up a pair of keys. She smirks, flashing you the white keyring attached to them labeled, “office”.

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “No, we are not stealing–” 

Except Max grabs your arm and practically flings you out the front door. She shoves you, urging you to start running towards Steve’s car, and all you can do is stumble over your feet and follow after her. When you make it back to the car, panting from the exertion and thrill, Steve and Dustin turn to you with wide eyes. 

“What’d she say?” Your brother asks, noting your frazzled appearance. 

“Nothing, just drive.” Max dismisses. 

“I just became a felon.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you. “Personal property theft isn’t a felony.”

“Jesus,” Steve does a double take, baffled by this entire conversation. “What the hell did you guys do in there?”

“Steve, drive!” Max shouts at him. 

The tires of the car squeal against the pavement as Steve steps on the gas. He steadies the car, a wild look in his eyes. “Where are we even going?”

“The school,” Max holds up the keys she stole.

Dustin looks at her incredulously. “Are those–”

“The keys to Ms. Kelly’s office? Yeah.” You nod grimly. “I told you, I’m now a felon.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic–”

A voice comes through Cerebro, cutting Max off. “Dustin? It’s Lucas. Do you copy?”

Relief washes over you hearing Lucas’ voice. Between tracking down Eddie and dealing with interrogating school guidance counselors, you’d also been slowly worrying yourself to death over the boy. It’s unusual for him to be quiet for so long, and with all the murders now occurring… You’d been terrified. 

“Lucas? Where the hell have you been?” Demands Dustin.

“Just listen, are you guys looking for Eddie?”

You and Steve share an uncertain look. Why would Lucas be radioing about him? How much does he know?

Your brother tells Lucas that you’ve found Eddie and tells him where he is, that he’s safe. Immediately, the boy responds, “You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?”

Predictably, Dustin doesn’t take this very well. “That’s bullshit, Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas presses further, not believing what he’s hearing. Max snatches the radio from Dustin, tired of all the vague responses. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay?”

“Technically we still haven’t elaborated on the whole Eddie thing,” you point out, which she glares at you for. 

“Y/N?” Lucas asks, surprised to hear you’re with them.

You grab the walkie. “Hey, how’s your day been?”

“Awful,” he responds bluntly while Steve snorts at your question. “Why are you guys so sure Eddie didn’t–”

“Just meet us at school. We’ll explain later.” Max instructs, leaning over the car’s console. 

“I can’t,” fear leaks through Lucas’ voice. You sit up now, looking at Steve again. He hears it, too. “I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”

You feel your heartbeat pick up. “Lucas, what does that mean? Are you okay, where are you?”

“Sinclair!” A voice shouts, before the radio cuts into static. 

“Lucas? Lucas!” Max shouts into the walkie, but he doesn’t respond. She sounds scared, it’s the most emotion you’ve heard in her voice in months.

You’re no better. You sit in the passenger seat, numb. The voice, you recognized it. You’d know Jason Carver’s voice anywhere. Everything clicks; you remember how Lucas was supposed to go to the party after the basketball game. Chrissy had been Jason’s girlfriend before she was brutally killed. The cops would’ve questioned him, they would’ve told him how her body had been found in Eddie’s trailer. 

Eddie Munson, the town freak everyone hates. 

“What shit could Lucas get into?” Dustin questions, annoyance twinged with worry for his friend. 

You try to steady your breathing, nausea returning. You almost don’t recognize the sound of your own voice. “It’s Jason. He’s-he’s angry.”

The words settle in the car, linger in the air, before they crash heavily upon the four of you. The realization dawns on everyone, the inevitability of what will happen next is an unbearable weight.

Steve steps even harder on the gas. He knows the basketball team, how cruel teen boys can be. 

– 

Every time you’ve snuck into one of Hawkins’ schools, it’s never led to anything good. The first two times had been in the middle school for Will. Neither time involved very pleasant memories. This year you’re sneaking into the high school in order to violate your classmates’ privacy and read their deepest, darkest secrets.

“This feels wrong,” you huff under your breath, barely keeping up with Steve and the others as they run through the hallway. “I’d hate it if anyone read my file.”

“Would you rather risk anyone else dying?” Max responds, giving you a pointed look.

You frown but don’t say anything, figuring she’s right. As much as you hate to do this, it’s objectively the lesser of two evils. You’ll apologize to the students after this is done. If they question why you’ve baked them brownies, you’ll simply lie and say you had extra laying around. 

“Dustin, do you copy?” Robin’s voice carries over the radio. Your heart skips a beat hearing her, you’ve missed her today. After your brother responds, she starts to explain what she and Nancy found. “So, Nancy’s a genius.”

“What else is new?” You say, and Robin laughs.

“My thoughts exactly, pretty girl.” She clears her throat. “Anyways, Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull’s-eye.”

The new information startles you. Vecna first started killing in 1959? Why didn’t you hear anything about it until now, and why didn’t El sense him before?

Dustin looks equally unsettled by the news. “Okay, that’s totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now.”

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.”

You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?”

Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Meanwhile, Dustin urges Robin and Nancy to meet you guys at the school. By the time their conversation wraps up, Max has unlocked the office door. She heads straight towards the drawers, long familiar with the layout; you follow after her.

Steve and Dustin look around while you and Max dig through the files. They mumble something about Watergate, but you can barely hear them over the rush of blood in your eardrums. Max’s fingers rest on a specific file. The name printed on it makes you feel sick.

Fred Benson.

“Holy shit,” she exhales, grabbing it.

“Found it?” Dustin stands next to you now, neck peering down. 

You struggle to breathe. “We didn’t just find Chrissy’s file.”

Dustin tilts his head, he doesn’t understand, and Max holds the file up. “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelly too.”

Steve and Dustin freeze. You can practically see their heartbeats still. The air in the room goes stale. Their eyes linger on you, they wish they couldn’t piece it together. Chrissy and Fred were seeing Ms. Kelly up until their deaths. You and Max have been seeing her, too. It’s one hell of a coincidence. 

But that’s all this is. A horrible, awful coincidence. 

“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, but you shake your head at him.

“Please,” your lip trembles. Not here, not now. He can’t look away from you, but you can’t bear to look at him. Instead, you grab the remaining files and hand them to Max. “We need to go through them. All of them.”

Dustin sits at the desk, Steve’s hand rests on the small of your back as you lean over Max to read the files. He shines a flashlight for the two of you, Chrissy’s file is the first one you read. The image of her once vibrant and alive smile stares back at you. There’s a column of writing to the left of her photo, the handwriting is neat, orderly, and it catches your attention.

“Are those…?”

“Symptoms.” Max softly answers, eyes skimming down the list.

Past trauma.

Terrible migraines.

Difficulty sleeping.

Headaches.

Max’s entire body tenses, her muscles pull taut against you. Your own body shakes, the tremors misalign your bones. Slowly, she looks up at you. Her eyes silently beg you to tell her that you’ve gotten it all wrong. Max’s blue eyes plead with you to tell her that none of this is real.

“Steve,” your voice catches, unable to inhale. “Can we see Fred’s file?”

He softly agrees, handing you the file immediately. You take it from him. The paper trembles in your unsteady grasp. Laying them down, you open the file and Fred’s photo burns you. Next to it is a list of symptoms.

They’re the same as Chrissy’s. 

They’re the same as yours. 

The headaches. Sleepless nights. The trauma you’ve been through, the nightmares that will never truly go away. Everything you’ve experienced within the last week. 

Nosebleeds is starred, and for a moment your heartbeat settles. You haven’t had a nosebleed since you were five. It isn’t one of your symptoms; it can all still be a coincidence.

“This-this can’t be right.” You don’t know if you say this to reassure Max or yourself, but when you look down at her, you know. She has a far off look in her eyes. She doesn’t react to what you’ve just said. 

It’s only then that you remember her nosebleed from earlier this week; it hadn’t been a coincidence. 

“Max?” You shake her shoulders, tears already in your eyes. You know better than to be so naive, so blindly ignorant. You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that something was wrong.

Dustin and Steve try to wake Max, but she’s already left her body. She’s unresponsive, lost in whatever trance she’s in. 

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Steve demands, fear in his own voice.

You’re hysterical, screaming and sobbing for Max to wake up. Her body is so small against yours, she’s frail and weak and her skin has never looked so translucent. Over and over you shake her, your palms rest against her cheeks and you cry.

You’ve come to know what fear is. How it can blind a person, leave them stricken with such raw anguish. Fear takes whatever air is left inside you and it poisons it with sulfur and leaves you choking. 

The day Will went missing, the only air left in your body had been blood. 

When inside the tunnels defending your little brother from monsters, the air in your body had been carbon. 

Starcourt mall and the fireworks that exploded over Billy’s dangling and bloodied body left only just enough air in your lungs to scream.

But this fear, seeing Max unresponsive to your pleas, this fear doesn’t spare you any air. 

Gasping and choking, you’re a wreck. “Max!”

Faintly you can feel Steve’s hands on you, or maybe they’re Dustin’s. Someone grabs you, pulls you away, but all you can do is scream.

It all makes sense now, Nancy’s question from earlier rings in your ears. You know why Chrissy and Fred were targeted. Why Ms. Kelly was somehow the center of it all.

The symptoms they experienced prior, the same ones that plague you and Max. You know what it is.

Venca’s curse.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[guess-my-next-obsession]

the alchemy | iv. the real thing

pairing: no outbreak!dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter rating: Explicit [18+ only, minors dni, dbf/secret relationship, age gap (joel is 34, reader is 24), oral (f!rec), unprotected piv, talks of birth control, sarah's mom sucks so bad, angst, insecurity, joel being both boyfriend and father of the year, not proofread—may contain some typos but i can’t be bothered to check]

summary: you begin to worry that joel's having second thoughts about your relationship, but he makes sure to clear all of that right up.

wc: 5.5k

the masterlist

You woke up to the feeling of stubble grazing your inner thigh and soft, warm lips soothing the gentle burn it left. Peeling your eyes open, you smiled down at the mess of bed head nestled between your open thighs and lifted a sleep-heavy hand down to comb some of it back. Joel’s head tilted up, nuzzling into your touch as he locked eyes with you. 

“Mornin’,” he said with a smile, his voice deeper than usual. 

“Morning to you too,” you said, chuckling. “What are you up to down there?”

“Havin’ my breakfast,” he replied, lowering his mouth to your bare seam to press a soft whisper of a kiss against your clit. Your laugh was stifled, a moan taking its place as he slid his hot tongue into you, taking his time in savoring your taste with a low hum. 

He’d stayed over after fucking you against the wall last night, even after you told him you wouldn’t take it personally if he wanted to sleep in his own bed instead. But Joel insisted that there was no place he’d rather be than with you, and you were more than happy to welcome him upstairs to your room.

Now, in the golden morning light, you couldn’t be more grateful for his insistence. 

Joel unraveled you with his mouth, then once again with his fingers before finally satiating his need to please—to make up for all the time you’d spent being unsatisfied by your exes. Now it was your turn to feed into your desire to give. 

“Come here,” you beckoned, curling your finger at him to guide him up the expanse of your body for a kiss. Joel’s mouth took just as much care of you there, slowly coaxing your tongue to mingle with his as he ground his hips into your still throbbing cunt. You pulled away with a dazed sigh, your hand splayed across the side of his face. “Want you on your back.”

He grinned at that, turning to kiss your palm. “You gonna ride me, honey?” 

“Til the wheels fall off,” you promised, earning the deep rumble of a laugh. 

Joel fell into position with a smirk, folding his arms behind his head as he watched you swing one leg over his hips to mount him. “G’on then, ride my cock, baby.”

You shook your head, pressing your hands against his chest as you started to rock along the underside of his cock as it lay sandwiched between your cunt and his stomach. “I’m gonna make you beg this time.” 

Joel’s brow arched, his smirk widening to a grin. “I ain’t too proud to beg for it, I hope you know that.” 

“I’m counting on it,” you quipped, bringing your thumb to his nipple to circle it in time with your hips. Joel reacted to that as you’d hoped, although it seemed to shock him. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever had a woman play with my nipples before,” he chuckled, though that all ceased when you brought your tongue down to flick over it. Joel groaned, slipping his hands from beneath his head to grab at your ass, guiding your hips to move faster. “Fuck, I like it, though.”

You gave the stiff peak a nibble, earning a hiss and a buck of his hips. 

“I really fuckin’ like that,” he added, his voice deep and dark and rough. “God, baby.” 

“Mm, what is it?” you asked, toying with him. “You want something?”

“Want that pussy wrapped ‘round me,” he said, unabashed in his desire. “Want to see you bouncin’ on it.” 

Your walls fluttered at the idea of claiming him like that. So much so that you may have intentionally rocked a bit further forward than before to notch his tip into your entrance. The two of you gasped in unison as it slipped inside, not enough to satiate, but enough to tease. After all, he still hadn’t used his manners. 

“Please,” he added, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you remain firmly in place, keeping just the tip of him inside you. 

You grinned and brought your hips down to sheath him completely inside of you, sighs escaping from both your lips as he nestled in deep. But you weren’t done with him yet. 

You kept yourself there, oh so slightly grinding into him. Joel’s hands tightened on your ass before planting a smack to it, biting his bottom lip. “Fuck, you gotta move, baby.” 

“I’m not hearing any begging,” you said, smiling as the stimulation from his coarse hair against your clit began to send chills down the inside of your thighs. 

“Please move,” he amended, his smile long gone and a wanton look of need replacing it. “Feels so fuckin’ good inside you like this, baby. Need more.”

You rewarded him by lifting your hips up and gliding back down on his length, starting a rhythmic bounce on top of him. Joel’s head pressed back into the pillows, his eyebrows lacing together as his bottom lip slipped free. His lips parted to let out a drawn out moan, the sound causing your hips to stutter and walls to twitch. “Fuck, I love your dick, Joel. So fucking good.”

“Yeah?” His hands roamed up to your breasts, cupping the weight of them before focusing in on the stiff peaks of your nipples. He swiped the rough pads of his thumbs over them before giving them a pinch that sent a spike of pleasure down your spine. “Your pussy feels like it was made for me, baby.”

Joel’s words made you keen, your hips rolling to graze your clit against the coarse hair at the base of him. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you there and urging you to grind against him deep and slow. 

“Keep goin’,” he groaned, his brows furrowed and cheeks flushed. “Keep ridin’ it just like that, baby. Want you to come on it, just like that.” 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, shivering and lust-drunk. You swirled your hips until you were on the edge. Until you couldn’t take any more. Leaning forward, you clung to his sweat-soaked chest, tucking your face in the warm crook of his neck. “Want you to fuck me hard, Joel. Make me come.”

Joel growled at that, his greedy hands palming the flesh of your ass as he started to fuck up into you at a devastating and harsh pace. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. You feel that?”

A soft whine was your only response. You were too fucked-out and lost in your pleasure to manage even a single word. 

“Wanna stay buried in this fuckin’ pussy ‘til I die,” he said, turning his face to nip at your earlobe. “That what you want, baby? Want me deep inside like this?”

“Yes, fuck!” Your entire body shook as his words sent you over the edge, your walls contracting around him like a vice grip. Joel groaned, loud and proud, and rolled you over onto your back with his dick still buried deep inside you. 

“Look at you,” he growled, folding you like a pretzel and marveling at the sight of where you were joined, the slick glide of his cock in and out of your cunt. “Fuck me, this pussy’s gonna make me come, baby.”

“Inside,” you managed in a choked plea, your hands kneading at your breasts as every stroke prolonged your orgasm. “Fill me up.” 

Joel’s hips stuttered at your command, his knuckles turning white as he pressed your thighs to your chest. “Alright, baby. Gonna fill this pussy up just like you want.” 

He leaned forward, slinging the back of your knees over his bent arms as he nestled his face into your neck. Letting out a slew of moans and curses meant only for you to hear, he pressed deep inside of you and gave you exactly what you’d been begging for. “Fuck me. You’re gonna kill me, baby.” 

You laughed, smoothing your hands across the warm expanse of his back as you tried to catch your breath, your heartbeats pounding in unison. “I told you I like you alive, Miller.”

You felt him smile against your shoulder, the brush of his stubble tickling you as he pressed a kiss there. “This might be a little late, but…you are on the pill, right?”

Laughing again, you gave his ass a playful swat. “I might like you, Joel, but not enough to have any little Millers running around.” 

Joel finally gained the strength to lift himself up, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face as he peered down at you. “You’d make pretty babies, though. If the time ever comes.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, or how to feel about the butterflies swarming in your stomach because of his words. So, you chose to ignore it. “You’re awfully handsome in the morning, you know that?”

Joel rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle before rolling onto his side with a long, satiated sigh. “You sure know how to make a man blush.” 

Not wanting to part from Joel just quite yet, you decided to take him up on his invitation to come help him out with his renovations. You had no real intention of getting your hands dirty, obviously, but you’d gladly stand around and supervise. Especially when your reward was a sweaty, focused, competent Joel Miller. 

You watched as he tore out his old vanity, his gray t-shirt soaked with a stripe of sweat down his spine, turning the material darker. His biceps flexed with every knock of his hammer, every forceful tug to rip the nailed-in wood from the wall. It was as delicious as it was absolutely torturous. 

You were reaching your breaking point, ready to steal him away from his work just to break in his bed just as he’d done with yours this morning, but as always, an interruption ruined all of your sinful plans. 

He’d gotten a call from his ex-wife, which was unusual judging by the confused scowl on his face as he stared down at his phone. When he picked it up, he was breathless from all of his hard work, though it did little to soften his biting tone. You couldn’t hear much of the conversation, but you heard enough to understand the fury washing over Joel’s face. 

When he hung up and filled you in, you were just as furious. 

Sarah’s shitty excuse for a mom wanted Joel to pick Sarah up because she was having a “friend” over later on, and didn’t want her daughter around to prevent any “interruptions”. 

What a fucking loser. 

She tried to make it better, telling him she’d be happy to have Sarah back in a few days once her guest had left, but Joel only told her to fuck off and forget it. 

“That’s the last fuckin’ time I let Sarah stay with her,” he grumbled, swiping a hand towel across his face. “What kind of mother chooses a goddamn hookup over their daughter?”

“A shitty one,” you said, shaking your head. “A really fucking shitty one.”

“I gotta go pick her up,” he sighed. “She’s probably fuckin’ devastated. She was so excited to spend the summer with her, and that lasted all of…what? A week?”

You weren’t a violent person, not really. But god, you’d love to beat some sense into Joel’s ex-wife. Maybe then she’d realize what a cunt she was. 

“I’ll text you later,” he said, stepping into your space to rest his hands on your face. He tipped your chin up, pressing a gentle but dizzying kiss to your lips. “We’ll figure things out, alright? Sarah bein’ back home will make things a bit more complicated, but—“

“But nothing,” you said, slipping your hands around his waist. “Sarah being back home is exactly where she needs to be. Don’t worry about us, we’ll make it work.”

He didn’t look so convinced. 

“I’ll walk you home,” he promised, slipping his hand into yours as he led you out of his bathroom and down the stairs. 

He was silent on the way over to your house. Thinking, stewing, trying to figure out the logistics of this thing between the two of you now that Sarah was going to be back with him full-time. You tried not to worry, but deep down, there was this nagging voice that told you that this was where he’d start to pull away and distance himself. 

Joel was nothing if not a good father, and no matter how much he’d like to choose you, he’d never put this relationship above his daughter. And you wouldn’t like him if he did. One of the most endearing things about him was how good of a man he was, even if right now, it felt as though that same goodness would be the thing to lead him away from you. 

In a bid to distract yourself, you called up Maria and asked her if she was free for lunch. You didn’t need to sit at home alone wondering what was going through Joel’s mind and how things might change going forward, and there was no one better at taking your mind off things than Maria. 

“So…” Maria started, a smile playing at her lips as she folded her menu. “Wanna tell me why you ran off last night?”

You sighed, slouching your shoulders. The weight of your secret was beginning to become too much for you to bear, especially with what had happened earlier. You needed to tell someone about the shit going on in your head, and you trusted Maria like a sister. She wouldn’t spill your juicy secret even if her life depended on it. That’s just how she was. 

“If I tell you, you have to promise it stays between us,” you said, just in case. Maria held up her pinky in a silent vow to keep her promise. “Alright, so…you know the guy I was telling you about?”

“Mmhm.”

“It’s Joel,” you said, biting your lip as you gauged her response. There was no judgment there, just a bit of shock. 

“Tommy’s brother, Joel?” she gasped. “No fucking wonder you left! Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I was flirting with him—well, not actually flirting, but still!”

“You’re fine,” you assured, chuckling. “You didn’t know.”

“I promise I was just using him to get under Tommy’s skin,” she said, her tone earnest. 

“No, I know,” you replied. “Joel told me when he showed up to my place last night.”

“Romantic,” she gushed, swooning. “Tell me all about it. Did you two…you know?”

“Yeah,” you said, biting your lip. “A few times.”

“Fuck yeah,” she said, grinning. “And how was it?”

“So good,” you groaned, hanging your head. 

“Why do you look all sad, then? Did he bail or something?”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” you said, sighing. “It’s just that his daughter’s coming back to stay with him after her mom basically kicked her out so that she could fuck in peace. Now I feel like he’s going to distance himself for her sake, and he should. I get why he’d be spooked, you know. But…”

“But it sucks that you’re the one on the receiving end,” she guessed, frowning. 

“Yeah,” you said, shaking your head. “But he hasn’t said anything, so I’m just going to hope for the best.”

“Yeah, don’t get yourself worked up over what could be nothing,” she said. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to fuck you and then bail, even over something like that.”

You didn’t want to think about that. It had been so long since you trusted your heart and body with another person. If Joel broke that trust, even for Sarah, you weren’t sure how long it would take you to recover. 

“Enough about me, tell me about you and Tommy.” 

It was Maria’s turn to look lovestruck, which was a rare sight to see. She was never the type to open up to guys, let alone get mushy over them. But here she was, straight up mush. “We spent the night together.”

You gasped, a grin spreading across your face. “You fucked Tommy?”

“And boy, was it good,” she gushed. “I’m not the type to fall quickly, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna marry that boy.”

“Ew, he said the same thing about you,” you teased, chuckling. “So does this mean you’re official?”

“I told him he needs to take me on a real date first,” she said, a confident smirk on her face. “So we’re going out this weekend.”

“I’ll start planning the wedding.”

A day had passed since Joel left to bring Sarah home. A day full of waiting, a day full of dreading. He’d texted you last night to let you know they were back home and that Sarah was pretty down about the whole thing, but he didn’t say much more than that. The status of your relationship seemed up in the air, at least to you, but you assumed that since he hadn’t said anything about calling things off, the two of you were fine. 

At least for the time being. 

Your dad had come back home in the afternoon, bringing Vic along to stay for the week. And in an attempt to ease the awkwardness that came along with meeting your dad’s new girlfriend, he decided to throw a little cookout on the deck out back that he finally completed. He invited both of the Miller boys over, and though you were a bit on edge about seeing Joel again in that kind of setting, it beat having to sit around the table and make conversation with a stranger. 

You chose a simple outfit for the barbecue—a sundress and some flip-flops—and tried to keep your primping to a minimum, even when the insecure part of your mind told you to overcompensate in order to impress Joel. But you didn’t want to listen to that small voice, especially not when Joel has already seen you in your barest state. 

When the Millers arrived at your house, they both brought guests—Joel brought Sarah, obviously, and Tommy brought Maria. You felt a bit of the tension weighing on you lift at the sight of your best friend and the sunshine of a girl that was Sarah Miller. But even they couldn’t help the way your heart seemed to still at the sight of Joel. 

He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. A completely normal and bland outfit, and yet he managed to make it look criminally extraordinary. But maybe that was just the energy radiating off of him. 

He greeted you at the door with a small smile when he and Sarah arrived, one that looked far too sheepish and polite for your taste. Especially now that you’d experienced the unabashed version. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft. “Brought some corn on the cob.”

“Thanks,” you said, giving him a timid look. “My, uh, my dad’s in the backyard.”

He pursed his lips, staring into your eyes for a few more seconds before giving you a small nod. “I’ll go say hi, then.”

“Yeah,” you managed, your throat constricting under the effort it took to not voice your insecurities. Joel grazed his hand along your arm as he stepped past you to head into the house, the simple touch almost enough to burn you alive. 

“Hey,” Sarah said, drawing your eyes down to where she stood. She sounded sadder than you were used to, her bubbly joy dulled to something more akin to her father’s personality. It made your heart break. It made your worries over your relationship with her father seem insignificant. 

“Hey, Sarah,” you said, giving her a genuine smile. She didn’t deserve anything less than that. “I’m glad you’re back. I’ve missed you.”

She shrugged, toying with the ribbon that was sewn onto her summer dress. “Wasn’t gone that long.”

God, you hated the fact that her mother had hurt her this badly. 

“Still,” you said, guiding her into the house. “It’s been boring here without you.”

She remained quiet, lost in thought. And that wouldn’t do. 

“Do you want to help me decorate the cake I made?” You asked, leading her into the kitchen where Tommy and Maria stood chatting with Joel. You ignored his presence entirely, as you normally would’ve before you entered into this situationship with him. 

“What kind of cake?” she asked, seeming to perk up a bit. 

“Carrot, my dad’s favorite,” you said, helping her into one of the stools that sat at the kitchen island. 

“My dad likes carrot cake, too,” she said, turning to her father. “Don’t you, dad?”

“I do,” Joel said, his voice a soothing rasp. 

“Guess it’s a dad thing,” you said, giving him a quick glance. Joel was already looking at you, watching as you set the chilled carrot cake onto the counter. 

There seemed to be a million unspoken things lingering in that gaze of his, things you desperately wanted him to tell you. Even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. 

You quickly turned your attention back to Sarah. “I, uh, have chocolate and buttercream frosting. What do you think? Should we do half and half?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, leaning onto the counter. “Do you have sprinkles?”

“I do!” You turned around to rummage through the cabinet for the sprinkles that you’d bought last Christmas, praying that they weren’t out of date. “Looks like we’ve got a few colors, but I’ll let you choose all that while I go wash my hands.”

“Okay,” she said, already looking a bit more like her normal self. 

You headed upstairs to your bathroom, mostly just to take a breather from being in such close proximity to Joel, but stopped halfway up the stairs as you heard the sound of a pair of heavy boots following you. You turned, finding Joel standing at the bottom of the staircase, his eyes trained on you. He nudged his chin forward, a silent request for you to continue on, and you quickly obeyed. 

Once you were in the privacy of the second story, he slipped into the guest room and waved for you to join him. 

“What’s up?” you asked once he’d closed the door. Joel turned to you, shaking his head before closing the distance between the two of you in two large steps. His hands settled on your face, guiding you to his lips for a deep, bruising kiss. 

“Sorry,” he panted as he pulled back enough to rest his forehead against yours. “I just missed you.” 

You let out a sigh of relief. All that worrying faded into thin air as he pressed his lips against yours again, softer this time. “I was worried you’d…I don’t know.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I told you I was committed, and I meant it.”

“I’m not used to guys meaning what they tell me during sex,” you said. It was a blunt thing to say, but it was the truth. You might’ve hoped Joel had meant the things he said, but you certainly weren’t counting on them being true. You’d experienced too many let-downs to ever buy into something like that so easily. 

“Well, I did,” he said, kissing you to seal his promise. “But we’re gonna have to work harder to keep this between us now that Sarah’s around. Unless you want to tell her.”

You furrowed your brows and pulled back to look at him, to see if he was joking, but he looked dead serious. “You want to tell her?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’d prefer not to lie to her, but I don’t wanna rush you into doin’ somethin’ you’re not ready to do.”

“What if she lets it slip around my dad?” She was a child, after all, and they had a tendency to speak without thinking. 

“Honestly?” He let out a soft chuckle. “I’m startin’ not to give a shit about that, either. But I know I’m not the one who’s gonna have to deal with the aftermath of all that. Not really, anyway.”

You lowered your eyes to his chest as you thought about what he’d said, about the choice he was laying at your feet. Telling Sarah was one thing, but telling your dad? You weren’t sure you were ready for that. 

“Listen t’me, honey,” Joel said, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “This thing between you and I is the real thing, alright? It’s the real thing when it’s just between us, and it’s the real thing if we choose to let everybody know. My feelings for you aren’t gonna change, and I want you to know that it’s your choice whether we tell them or not. Alright?”

You took a deep breath and gave him a soft smile, one that was born of feeling nothing but safe and respected by the man you’d chosen. It was new and foreign and would take some getting used to, but god, it felt good to be seen and cared for the way Joel saw and cared for you. 

“Alright,” you whispered, too emotional to say anything else. 

Joel stroked his thumb over your cheek and smiled, pecking your lips softly once more. “We need to get back down there before people start wonderin’ where we went.”

“I’ll be down in a second,” you said, urging him on. “Go make sure Sarah hasn’t devoured all the frosting.”

Joel chuckled as he turned to head downstairs, shooting you a quick smile over his shoulder. “No promises on that front.” 

“There you are,” Maria said, grinning as she slid the sliding glass patio door shut behind her, finding you in the kitchen scrubbing away at the sink full of dirty dishes. “What are you doing hiding away in here?”

“Not hiding,” you replied with a smile. “Just…we’ll, yeah. I guess I am hiding.”

“From Joel?” she teased. 

“From my dad and his girlfriend,” you corrected. “It’s awkward, and I’m awkward. Better to just hide out and wait for them to go to bed.”

“She seems nice enough.”

“Yeah, she is,” you agreed. “But I’m not good with change, I guess. And I can tell she’s looking to bond with me, and I’m not ready for all of that, you know?”

“I get that,” she said, coming to join you at the sink. A moment of peaceful silence fell over the two of you as you washed the dishes and she dried them. “Joel’s daughter’s cute.”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling.

“Does she know about you and him?” 

“No,” you said, shaking your head as you turned the tap off and dried your hands. “Why?”

“She was just talking about you,” she said, shrugging. “She told Tommy and I that she likes you, and that she wishes you were her mom instead.”

Your eyes went wide, your heart skipping a beat. “She said that?”  

“Mmhm,” Maria hummed. “Tommy sort of filled me in on the situation, and I don’t blame her for wanting you as a mom instead. Her mom sounds like a cunt.”

“Yeah, she’s…horrible.” 

“I think Joel might’ve overheard it,” she said, biting her lip. “I can’t read the guy for shit, though, so I have no idea what he thought about it.”

Neither did you, if you were being honest. He definitely wouldn’t be upset by it, but he was probably more saddened than anything. Sarah shouldn't have to wish for a mother who made her happy, she should just have it. 

“I, uh, pulled him aside and let him know I knew,” she continued. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” you said, smiling at the thought of at least one person knowing that the two of you were together. It made it feel more real, somehow. “What did he say?”

“He just smiled and nodded,” she said. “It’s cute how just the sound of your name makes him smile.”

It was cute, you thought. Cute enough to make your heart clench. 

“He told me that he was alright with everyone knowing,” you confessed, hugging yourself. “But I’m not sure if I’m ready to let everyone in on it just yet.”

“You can take it one step at a time,” she said. “You already told me, so that’s one step. Tommy and Sarah could be another.”

“Yeah,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “We’ll get around to it.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You just like the thrill of a secret romance, you sicko.”

You laughed, too, because a part of you did. It wouldn’t last forever, but you liked the fact that the two of you could just be together for a while without the input of everyone else. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“Maybe you do, what?” Joel’s voice made you jump as he waltzed in from outside, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he looked at you. 

“Do y’all need me to stick around as a chaperone?” she said, giving you a playful smile. 

“No, fuck off,” you said with a laugh, swatting the dishcloth in your hand at her. She gave you a wink before making her way back onto the deck, leaving you and Joel alone. 

“I like her,” he said, coming to sit at one of the stools at the island. “Well, as much as I like anybody that isn’t you or Sarah.”

“Yeah, she’s great,” you said, coming to stand across from him. “She, uh, told me about something Sarah said.”

He nodded, his smile fading into something more somber. 

“Broke my heart to hear her say that,” he said, sighing. “Not because of you, just…I don’t know. I just don’t get how her mother can treat her like an afterthought. I hate that she makes her feel like this, like she doesn’t have a mom.”

“I know it’s not the same, and I’d never try to make it seem that way, but I’m here, you know?” you said, shrugging your shoulders and offering him a sympathetic smile. “I’d love her the way she deserves, the way every little girl deserves, if she wanted. If…if you wanted.”

He softened at that, his shoulders relaxing as he tilted his head at you. “Everytime I see y’all together, she’s smilin’. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. How much it’s always meant.”

You long to walk over to him and run your hands through his hair, to kiss him and show him how grateful you are to get to see this side of him, to let him know that he’s a good man—far better than any you’d ever met before—but you could see your father right outside, serving as a reminder of why you had to stay put. Even when it hurt to have to do so. 

“So thank you,” Joel added, suddenly turning bashful. “Thank you for bein’ good to her.” 

“I want to kiss you so badly right now,” you said, frowning and smiling at the same time. 

He smiled, a dimpled, boyish thing that had you ready to climb across this island just to feel that smile against your lips. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

“No, but my dad might,” you said, chuckling. 

Joel glanced over his shoulder at your father, watching him as he sat at the patio table with Vic, Tommy, and Maria. Each of them able to hold each other, to claim each other as theirs. “It doesn’t feel fair.”

You frowned, nodding. “No, it doesn’t.”

With a sigh, he stood up and stretched, feigning exhaustion. “I should take Sarah home. She’s out there sleepin’ in her chair.” 

“Yeah,” you said, your voice soft. 

“You think your dad would be opposed to you babysittin’ her while I go sneak off with this beautiful woman I’ve been seein’?”

You reared back, your brows drawing together. “Excuse me?”

Joel only laughed. “Least that’s the story I plan on givin’ him to buy you and me a couple hours together.” 

Your confusion was replaced with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, I think he’d buy that. Might even be able to spend the night at your place, especially if you’re planning on spending the whole night with this beautiful woman of yours.” 

“Oh, I plan on it, alright,” he husked, his drawl doing things to you it had no right to do. “I’ll grab Sarah and let him know, you go on upstairs and pack a bag.”

Biting your lip, you turned to obey his command, only to be stopped by him again. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout packin’ any pajamas,” he said, eyeing your frame from head to toe. “We won’t be gettin’ much sleep tonight.” 

[yan-randomfandom]

P!Yandere!Pines Family x GN!Teenager!Reader

[PLATONIC] a continuation to this! decided to just make them all yanderes cuz y not lol errmm just subtle ykwim... i'm not proofreading all this so just have my draft

warnings: staring, violence, alcoholics, abuse, blood, implied murder. woah intense

❤️‍🔥

"Then I saved Ford by slicing its eye! You should have seen it!"

You laughed, settling down from your dramatic gestures that you've been making throughout the entire dinner. The entire Pines family watched you in awe, especially Dipper and Mabel, easily captivated by your personality and story.

"Yes, well, they certainly saved my life," Ford chuckled as he fed himself a spoonful of food.

"You have to stop lettin' kids save your life so much," Stan scoffed.

Dipper grabbed a book out of nowhere, clicking his pen in preparation—

"No writing at the dinner table! We talked about this!" Stan called out, earning a sheepish smile from Dipper who immediately drops the book on the ground.

"But what did the monster look like?" Dipper stammered, eventually turning to you with a curious look on his face. He looked eager to learn more. That's what you can tell anyway, if you remove his reddened face, which is most likely from embarrassment.

Mabel, who sat across from you, leaned towards you with the biggest smile on her lips. You grinned back to return her energy. "Bet it was super gross! Was there a lot of blood?! Blaarrrgghhh!!!"

"No gross sounds at the table, pumpkin!" Even Stanley felt like he's tired of his own voice. This is him trying his best to not let you be uncomfortable. Well, he supposed you and his brother brought up the story in the first place.

Speaking of, why were you even here? Ford came back in the mystery shack after missing for a day, only to bring a random teen with him. It's a good thing he cooked extra since he thought Soos was coming over.

But he needed answers fast.

"Ford," Stan whispered firmly, catching his brother's attention. Tilting his head, he tried to signal him to move out, but someone interrupted them before they could do anything.

"Hey! No sneaking out the dinner table!" Mabel exclaimed, pointing a fork at her grunkles.

Stanley stood up and Ford followed his actions. They were already heading out the door with Stan holding his twin's wrist. "Well, sweetheart, VERY REASONABLE EXCUSE!"

As soon as they were out of sight, you and the other kids exchanged looks.

"He did say it's reasonable."

"Yeah, I can live with that."

... You snorted. "You guys are a funny bunch. He literally said the excuse, and you let him go just like that? You must trust each other a lot."

"You have no idea, stranger, you have no idea," Mabel laughed. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

💥

Meanwhile, deep inside the mystery shack, where they were sure there'd be no eavesdropping happening...

"You let the kid stay here without telling their parents?!"

Stanley was freaking out. Yet, he really shouldn't be surprised Ford would do this. Ironically, poindexter would even criticize his behavior, his grunkle methods! How ridiculous is this whole thing, huh?!

"It's more complicated than that! Look, I know this sounds bad—"

"It does!" Stan yelped, his hands clenching. "Their parents must be so worried! And we can't just let them—"

"No, no, Stanley, walk with me here," Ford said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. "It's their parents that are the problem."

A few deep breaths from Stan. Alright, okay. This is making more sense now.

"We'll take them to their house first thing in the morning," Ford explained. "Let's see what we'll do from there."

🔥

"I hope my drawing isn't too bad," you chuckled, giving the journal back to Dipper. His eyes skimmed over your illustration of the monster you killed. "It doesn't match yours and Mabel, but..."

"Are you kidding?! It's perfect! Thank you!" Dipper beamed, writing more notes down the rest of the page.

From above, Mabel had her legs folded over the ceiling wood of the house. You looked up and made eye contact, as much as you can anyway. She's upside down.

"Hi! How old are you again?"

How did she even get up there, you wonder. You glanced around, smiling when you realized, and worked your way up.

They stared at you in awe when you climbed right next to Mabel's side. Now you're hanging upside down too. "Cool tricks, Mabel. Hope you don't mind me copying you?"

She doesn't respond, starstrucked. Glancing at Dipper, his jaw was also on the floor.

"Uhhh," you awkwardly smiled, "But I just turned sixteen! You guys are turning thirteen, right?"

"You're the coolest," Mabel whispered, dragging a hand across your face. Okay. That's a bit weird, but it's welcome.

"Thanks," you grinned, manually removing her hand from your face. You looked down at Dipper again. "Hey, Dipper, what time is it?"

He scrambled around and grabbed a watch from somewhere. "Uh, nine o' clock."

"Nine?!" your sudden outburst caused you to fall to the carpet, a pained groan leaving your lips. At least you managed to drop skillfully. "Oh, that hurt."

"Are you okay?!" Dipper rushed to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back.

"Yeah, I just," you paused. "It's nine already? My parents are gonna kill me, man. I gotta go home."

"What!!"

Mabel also dropped down from her outburst, but her landing isn't painful as yours, because you caught her in time. She gazed at you from your arms, stars forming in her eyes.

"Woah. You have fast reflexes!" she squealed as you gently put her down.

Dipper shook his head. "But you can't go home this late at night. Didn't you say you're from outside of Gravity Falls?"

You crossed your arms, pondering. "Yeah, but... Okay, wait, where's Ford?"

Footsteps followed your words. All of you turned to the doorway, seeing the older set of Pines twins. It's kind of amazing, really, you rarely saw twins and this family has two pairs.

"Oh, there you are!" you grinned, walking over to him. Ford blinked at you. "I'm sorry, dude, but I think I overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and—"

"Eh, nah," Stanley chimed in, earning your attention, "It's too dark for ya to go out. Let's take you home tomorrow, yeah?"

"But-"

"No butts, they're for sitting," he continued, gently pushing you down on his recliner. You sat down, albeit confused. "Think of it as a sleepover. That's fun, right kids?"

Mabel skipped to your view, an eager grin on her face. "Yeah! We can paint your nails and everything!"

"While I'll show you more of the journals," Dipper beamed, showing one of them to you.

Their ideas were nice, it truly was, but the circumstances are concerning. You couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. They all noticed.

Ford stepped in between them, kneeling and offering you a smile. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll take good care of you 'til morning. I'm sure your parents will understand."

"I guess I can't really do anything about it," you muttered, eventually accepting the situation. You stood up with a grin. "Okay! Who wants to be unaware of me stealing cool stuff here?!"

"I do!" Mabel screamed, only to pause. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah," Stan squinted, "What?"

You hummed, suddenly behind him, and stared at his wallet. Ford shook his head at you. "You have a very alarming number of IDs. Is this normal? Then again, you're old."

A laugh left Stan as he took his wallet from you. "Oh, I could use that type of skill. Didn't even hear or feel you take it!"

"I can teach you," you smiled.

"Please don't," Dipper groaned.

🌬️

"This journal is amazing! And Ford wrote this? Seriously, no wonder why he was so smart!"

You flipped the book page by page, your jaw dropped the whole time. Sure, a while ago, you saw one page, but only because Dipper told you to draw on it. You didn't expect a whole research surrounding Gravity Falls!

"Interesting enough for you to visit Gravity Falls more often?" Dipper chuckled as he watched you.

"Woah," you smiled, "You like my company that much, Dipper? Don't you have any friends here— oh shoot, wait, I didn't mean—"

A ghost of a frown spread through his face. Why did you have to ask that?! You were just projecting if you had to be honest, but still!!!

"Sorry, that was insensitive," you blurted, closing the book and focusing all your attention on him. "I only said that because I feel that way. I know, that's pretty lame."

He looked surprised. "Really? But you're so cool?"

"Some people think I'm weird is all. But thanks for finding me cool, Dip," you laughed, glancing at Mabel who was snoring. "I find you and your sister cool too. A lot, actually. So it's nice to know you both like me."

Dipper sniffed. "Man. Ditto."

You grabbed a blanket and placed it over Mabel's body, making sure she's covered head to toe. She snuggled up to it unconsciously.

"Welp, bed time," you murmured, reaching for another one. You stretched the blanket, letting Dipper be able to invite himself in. "Come on."

He happily accepted, nestling his head next to your shoulder. Mabel followed him, her head tilting to your chest.

You slept, content.

🌪️

You woke up, disturbed.

The first thing you saw after sleeping is Dipper and Mabel staring at you in silence. As soon as you noticed them, they scrambled away from you and tried to act natural.

Yet, you couldn't forget the small glimpse of their faces. Wide-eyed, a bit of judgment, but most of all, solemn.

Before you could question them, Dipper yelled, "Grunkles! They're awake!"

You winced from the volume of his voice, having just woken up. He immediately apologized to you, but it's all good.

"Visit us again soon! Byeee!"

The next thing you know, you're in the backseat of a car with Stanley next to you. He was pouting, arms crossed.

"This is literally my car. I can't believe it! You won't even let me drive my own car?" he sneered at Ford who sat on the driver's seat.

Ford rolled his eyes. "I can't have you get in trouble by driving again. Think of the kid."

While driving to your address is certainly much faster than walking, it still took a while. You managed to fall asleep, tilting your head on Stan's shoulder. It seemed that you're not alone in being unconscious, because he snored loudly.

Glancing at the mirror, Ford simply exhaled.

You're here.

He parked in front of your house.

Ford nudged Stan awake, who poked you awake next.

You stood up drowsily, holding Stan's hand while walking up to your house. Ford took the lead and knocked on your front door.

To both grunkles' disappointment, things get messy.

Both your parents, drunk, loudly told them off and took you away roughly from Stan. Tears leaked out of your eyes, saying countless apologies to the Pines twins and your parents.

Without much of a fight, Ford forcibly grabbed you back, carrying your body with one arm. He looked at Stan who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Psst, I'll handle this," Stanley murmured in the midst of your father yapping nonsense. Maybe the professional con-man can knock some sense into your deadbeat parents.

Ford took you back to the car. You sobbed relentlessly, whispering the most saddening things he wished to unhear. He hugged you tightly, muttering sweet nothings until you fell asleep.

After a long while, Stan finally came back.

His eyes were wide. He was shaking.

"I didn't mean to. They started it—I had no choice!"

Gazing down, Ford realized Stan's hands were covered in blood. He swallowed the thickness in his throat.

"...I'll help you clean it up."

[archiveofvirtue]

cherry pie — dean winchester

content: dean winchester x fem!reader, established relationship, pie addicted dean, flirting, intimate touching and kissing, slight fluff, mentions of alcohol, 2.4K words

summary: When joining Dean with a slice of cherry pie turns into something more extensive, unfolding a deeper connection than either one of you had imagined. — inspired by the song “cherry pie” by warrant

feedback and requests are welcomed <3

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The harvelle's roadhouse was buzzing with life, a mix of laughter, music, and clinking glasses filling the air. The neon sign above the bar flickered, casting a reddish glow over the crowd as they danced and mingled. Dean Winchester sat in a corner booth, nursing a beer, his eyes focused on the pool table in the center of the room. He wasn't paying much attention to the game, though. His thoughts were elsewhere- far from the game. They were on you; you could feel it.

As you made your way back to you guys' table, a mischievous glint lit your eyes. You slid into the booth beside him, your fingers grazing his arm as you placed a plate of food on the table. "Thought you might be hungry," you said, voice teasing as you pushed the plate toward him.

Dean glanced down at the slice of cherry pie, its bright red filling oozing slightly over the flaky crust. He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're gonna get me in trouble, bringing me this," he said, but the smile on his face gave away that he didn't mind at all.

You leaned closer, lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Maybe I like getting you into trouble."

Dean's grin widened, and he turned his head to catch your lips with his in a quick, heated kiss. You tasted sweet, like the cherries from the pie, and he felt a familiar spark of desire flare up inside him. You had always had that effect on him-you were wild, unpredictable, and full of life, everything that made the chaos of his world feel a little more bearable.

"So," you said, pulling back just enough to look at him, eyes shining with amusement. "You gonna eat that, or do I have to feed it to you?"

Dean smirked, picking up the fork and slicing off a piece of the pie. "As much as l'd like that," he said, popping the bite into his mouth, "I think I can manage."

You watched him with a satisfied smile, your hand slipping under the table to rest on his thigh. You felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric, and as he leaned in for another taste of your lips, the sweetness of the pie and a slight hint of whiskey lingered between you. You knew you were getting under his skin just as much as he was under yours.

"Good?" You asked when you finally broke apart, voice breathy.

"Delicious," Dean replied, his eyes locked on yours. You knew he wasn't just talking about the pie.

The music shifted, and a new song came on, something with a heavy beat that matched the thrum of his pulse. Your eyes lit up, and you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the dance floor. "Come on," you urged, not giving him a chance to protest.

Dean let you pull him along, his resistance melting away as you two moved into the crowd.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, body swaying to the music as you pressed yourself against him.

Dean's hands settled on your hips, guiding your movements as you fell into a rhythm together.

The room seemed to blur around you, the other people and the noise fading into the background.

All Dean could focus on was you-the way your body moved against his, the feel of your skin under his hands, the scent of your hair as it brushed against his cheek. You were intoxicating, and he was completely under your spell.

"You know," you said, lips close to his ear as you two danced, "I've always had a thing for bad boys."

Dean chuckled, his grip on you tightening. "Is that right?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Especially the ones who look at me the way you do."

Dean's heart skipped a beat, the words hitting him harder than they should have. You knew you'd struck a nerve by the way he was looking at you, making him feel something deeper than just the heat between you two.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss that told him exactly what you wanted. You had a way of getting under his skin, of making him feel things he wasn't sure he was ready to feel. But with you, it didn't seem so scary. It felt... right.

"Can't help it," he murmured, his voice rough against your skin. "You're just too damn irresistible."

Your smile was wicked as you pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes full of promise while the heat between you only grew hotter. "Then show me how much you mean it."

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on your waist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against his chest. His hands roamed over your body as you moved together, the heat inside you taking over.

The world outside your little bubble didn't matter anymore-there was only the music, the movement, and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between the two of you.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, your breath coming in short, eager gasps as you let yourself get lost in the moment. When Dean's lips brushed against your neck, trailing down to your collarbone, you let out a soft moan, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, lost in each other, the world outside the dance floor forgotten. When the song finally came to an end, you were both breathless, bodies pressed close together as if you couldn't bear to be apart.

You looked up at him, eyes filled with a mix of desire and something deeper-something that made Dean's heart swell with emotion. You didn't say anything, you didn't need to. The way you looked at him, the way you held him close, told Dean everything he needed to know.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Let's get out of here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Lead the way, Winchester."

You two left the roadhouse hand in hand, the night air cool against your flushed skin as you two made your way to the Impala. Dean opened the door for you, his hand lingering on your hand as you slid into the passenger seat.

As he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, Dean couldn't help but steal a glance at you. Upu were leaning back in your seat, eyes closed and a contented smile on your face. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful, that it made his heart ache.

"Where to?" he asked, his voice soft.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile widening. "Surprise me," you said, your tone playful to which he just nodded.

You grinned, as he put 'baby' in gear, pulling out onto the road. You had a feeling tonight was going to be one to remember..

The Impala's engine roared as Dean pressed down on the gas, the familiar hum of the car vibrating through his body. The road stretched out before the two of you, a ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the darkness. The headlights cut through the night, illuminating the trees that lined the narrow highway. Dean didn't have a specific destination in mind, but that didn't matter. With you by his side, anywhere you ended up would be just fine.

You reached over, your fingers brushing lightly against the back of his neck where it played with his tousled hair. "You always know how to make a night interesting," you said with a playful smile, eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Dean glanced over at you, his green eyes piercing through you, your heart doing that familiar flip it always did when he looked at you like that. "You haven't seen anything yet," he replied, his voice laced with a teasing edge.

You drove in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the rumble of the Impala's engine and the occasional rustle of wind through the open windows. Dean could feel you watching him, your gaze soft and thoughtful, and it sent a warm thrill through him. He'd never been one for settling down, but with you, everything felt different—like maybe, just maybe, he could finally stop running.

After about half an hour of driving, you came across a small, secluded lookout point just off the road. Dean turned the car down the gravel path, the tires crunching on the loose rocks as you approached a clearing that overlooked the rolling hills below. The view was stunning, with the moon casting a silvery glow over the landscape and the stars twinkling brightly above you.

Dean parked the car and turned off the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening. He looked over at you, who was already gazing out the window, your face illuminated by the soft light of the moon.

"Wow," you whispered, your breath fogging up the glass slightly as you leaned closer to the window. "It's beautiful."

Dean nodded, unable to take his eyes off you. "Yeah, it is."

You turned to him, catching the meaning behind his words, and your cheeks flushed slightly. "You've got a way with words, Winchester," you teased, though your voice was warm with affection.

Dean shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Just calling it like I see it."

You laughed softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. You opened the car door and stepped out, stretching your arms above your head as you breathed in the cool night air. Dean followed suit, walking around the car to stand beside you.

For a moment, you two just stood there, taking in the view and the peacefulness that surrounded you. The world felt a million miles away, and you were grateful for the rare moment of tranquility.

You moved closer to Dean, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. Dean automatically slid his arms around you, holding you close as you stood together under the blanket of stars.

"You know," you said after a few minutes, voice barely above a whisper, "I never thought I'd find something like this... someone like you."

You felt his heart skip a beat at your words, and he tightened his hold on you, resting his chin on top of your head. "I know the feeling," he murmured.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his as if you were looking for something—confirmation, maybe, or reassurance. Dean wasn't sure what you saw in his eyes, but whatever it was, it made you smile softly, a smile that made his heart ache in the best way possible.

"Let's stay here for a while," you suggested, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. "Just you and me, no distractions."

Dean nodded, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'd like that."

You two leaned against the hood of the Impala, you nestled comfortably in his arms, and watched the stars twinkle above. The night was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the steady thrum of your hearts beating in sync.

After a while, you tilted your head up to look at him again, your eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint. "So, about that pie," you began, her tone playful.

Dean raised an eyebrow, smirking down at you. "What about it?"

You bit your lip, pretending to think. "I don't know... I just figured a guy like you might have something better up his sleeve."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "You're never satisfied, are you?"

"Not when it comes to you," you replied, your voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent a jolt of desire through him.

Dean's smirk softened into something more tender as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin. "Good," he said, leaning in closer until your lips were just a breath apart. "Because I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Your breath hitched slightly, and you closed the distance between you two, your lips capturing his in a kiss that was slow and deep, filled with all the unspoken promises you'd been dancing around for so long. Dean kissed you back with equal fervor, pouring everything he had into it—every emotion, every unsaid word, every hope for a future he hadn't dared to dream about until now.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady your racing hearts.

"I think I'm falling for you, Y/N," Dean admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the confession. "Hell, maybe I already have."

You looked up at him, eyes shining with a mix of surprise and something else—a feeling that only filled your body when you were with him. You smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached your eyes. "Good," you whispered, repeating his earlier words. "Because I'm already there."

Dean's breath caught in his throat at your words, and before he could say anything else, you pulled him back in for another kiss—this one slow and tender, a kiss that spoke of the future the two of you could have, if you were brave enough to take it.

As you stood there, wrapped up in each other under the endless sky, Dean realized that for the first time in a long time, he wasn't thinking about the next hunt or the next battle. All he could think about was the woman in his arms and the life you could build together—one filled with moments like this, moments where the world outside didn't matter, and all that existed was the love between you two.

It wasn't something he'd ever expected to find, but now that he had it, he wasn't planning on letting it go. Not for anything.

And as you held each other close, the stars above you twinkling like the cherries in the pie you'd shared, you both knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful. Something worth fighting for.

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tags: @nuemanfilms @pinkgic @angelicjackles @6thlisbongirl @s4wdvator @nxptvn @nourties @alluvthegurlz

[littlelamy]

reader wins an award at the country club maybe something with tennis but rafe gets so busy and ends up missing it

a/n: thank you sending a request 🤍 i hope you like it! 🐑

the day should have been perfect—a culmination of your hard work and dedication. you’d spent weeks preparing for the tennis tournament at the country club, and you’d been so excited to have rafe there, watching from the stands, cheering you on. he had promised he wouldn’t miss it.

but, of course, rafe was nowhere to be found.

you stood there on the podium, accepting the first-place trophy with a hollow smile plastered on your face, scanning the crowd one last time. nothing. no familiar face, no smirk, no quick thumbs-up from him. the excitement of your victory felt overshadowed by the emptiness gnawing in your chest.

back in the locker room, you stared at your phone, willing it to buzz with an explanation, a half-assed apology—anything. but nothing came through until you were already back at the after-party, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment every time someone asked where rafe was.

finally, your phone buzzed.

rafey💗: sorry. got tied up. i’ll make it up to you. let’s talk when you’re home.

you read the text, feeling the familiar frustration boil up inside you. he was always “tied up,” always “busy.” he’d promised he would be there today—he had sworn he’d make it.

you: you promised you’d be here. you missed it.

the reply came through quickly.

rafey💗: i said i’ll make it up to you. just come home.

you scoffed, locking your phone and deciding you’d finish your drink before leaving. maybe this time you wouldn’t let him off so easy.

when you got home, the house was dimly lit, and the smell of food hit you immediately. candles flickered around the room, and soft music played in the background. he was trying, you could see that. but as sweet as the setup was, it wasn’t enough to completely erase the frustration bubbling under your skin.

rafe appeared in the doorway, watching you with that familiar cocky glint in his eye. "you made it," he said, his voice low as he approached.

you crossed your arms, leaning back against the door. "yeah. i made it. too bad you couldn’t say the same for the tournament."

rafe sighed, his hands slipping into his pockets. "i told you—i got caught up. work shit. you know how it is."

"yeah, i know how it is. you’re always ‘caught up.’ it’s always the same excuse, rafe," you shot back, your voice sharper than usual. you couldn’t help it. you’d been holding it in all day.

he frowned, his expression shifting from apologetic to defensive. "jesus, are you really going to make this a big thing? i already said i was sorry. what more do you want?"

you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "i wanted you to be there, rafe. just once, to actually keep your word. is that too much to ask?"

his jaw clenched, his hands falling to his sides as he took a step closer, towering over you. "i do a lot for you, you know that? don’t act like i don’t try. i’m here now, aren’t i?"

you glared up at him, refusing to back down. "yeah, now that it’s convenient for you."

rafe’s eyes flashed with irritation as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "watch it."

the tension hung in the air between you for a moment, both of you silently daring the other to say more. then, just as quickly as his anger had flared up, it seemed to cool. he stepped back, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "look, i messed up. i know. but i’m here now, and i’m trying to fix it. do you wanna keep arguing, or do you want me to make it up to you?"

his words were sharp, but you could see the frustration in his eyes—the way he was trying to pull himself back from snapping completely. he always did this, always danced on that line between anger and remorse.

you exhaled heavily, shaking your head. "fine. but this doesn’t just go away, rafe. you can’t keep missing things like this."

rafe’s lips twitched into a half-smirk, the edge of arrogance still lingering as he closed the distance between you again. his fingers grazed your waist, pulling you closer. "you’ll forgive me," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still laced with that confidence that always made your stomach flip. "you always do."

you hated how right he was.

he pressed his lips to your neck, trailing kisses slowly upward until his breath was hot against your ear. "let me make it up to you tonight," he whispered, his hands tightening around your waist, grounding you in that familiar pull he always had over you.

you sighed, the frustration still simmering, but already slipping away as you leaned into his touch. "you’ve got a lot of making up to do," you muttered, not wanting to give in too easily.

rafe chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "i plan on it."

he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the bedroom as the tension between you shifted from frustration to something far more intoxicating. and even though you were still mad at him, even though you knew this didn’t fix everything, it was hard to resist him when he looked at you like that.

he set you down gently on the bed, leaning over you with a grin that was half apology, half arrogance. "let me make you forget all about that stupid tournament, baby," he murmured, his lips hovering over yours.

for now, you let him. you’d deal with everything else later.

[fumiliar]

✎...angst, happy ending, fluff

love is a blessing and a curse. a beautiful magnificent feeling that envied by many. you had always thought love was a blessing, it was a fortune to be in a world where this warmth existed. you had been able to experience this blessing through kento nanami.

he was the epitome of a perfect man, but no one is perfect. his biggest and most detrimental flaw was he could not date you. he was fully infatuated with your existence, kissing the ground you walk on. but, his morals stood in the way. he could not leave his sorcerer life behind, not yet, not until he sees his mentee yuuji itadori succeed. his current responsibilities outweighed his future with you. you and him had the future ahead of you, itadori did not have that luxury.

"i can't y/n, i just can't," kento's packing up his things, getting ready to leave your apartment.

"why ken, why? why can't you just for once act for yourself," you pleaded with the stubborn man. "please kento."

"I swear y/n, after shibuya, i'm done, let's finally get married. just please let me go once more, just to tie up loose ends," kento hug squeezing your trembling figure. "please y/n."

you had a bad feeling, your heart sunk to your stomach as you watched the blonde man rush out of your apartment. and just like that, he was gone.

endless sleepless nights, no updates from him. love is a curse. the worst and deceiving curse to ever walk this earth. a sick and twisted curse that consumes you inside and out without a care in the world. a curse that plagued your nights and days. a curse that had led your disheveled self to finally pick up the constant calls from shoko.

"y/n, you finally picked up," a sigh of relief could be heard. "i know, i understand your worry, i do. but that fear shouldn't lead you to ignore my calls. y/n i was worried for you, you're my best friend for god's sake. i thought i lost you too."

"too?" you paused. "what do you mean by too?"

"we've lost a lot of sorcerers, it's a murder spree. nobara is in critical condition, gojo is unreachable, it's a me-"

"kento?" the dreadful feeling had appeared once more. now, all consuming. every muscle, bone, and nerve in your body felt like it was gonna turn inside out, the fact that shoko did not mention it first had made you come to the worst scenario, kento was dead.

kento was gone, he wasn't able to marry. he wasn't able to be the father to your kids. most importantly, you weren't gonna grow old together. all these thoughts rushed through your mind, until you heard shoko's voice calling you out.

"y/n, kento's alive," you felt it. you could hear fireworks, cheers and claps. "he's was in critical condition, but there's severe damages i simply can't undo. he's lost an eye and he has permanent scars. he won't be able to be a sorcerer anymore, but he's alive."

"actually, cause you took so long to answer, nanami's awake," shoko chuckled. you could hear rustling through the phone before you heard a familiar voice.

"y/n, w-"

"ken," you cried out, unable to stop your tears. "i thought you were gone, i tho-"

"let's get married."

[itneverendshere]

the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”

added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)

death by a thousand cuts - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.

Ward’s sitting at the dining table, barely glancing up from his phone when Rafe walks in. His jaw clenches. That look—so cold, so dismissive—always sets something off in him.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t just a normal night.

Ward doesn’t answer right away, just sighs like Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders. “Your mother called today.”

Rafe freezes.

He doesn’t have to ask which mother. Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom. The one who left.

He tries to stay calm, but he can feel his blood pumping, “What’d she want?”

“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.

When was the last time? A couple of years? Before that? It doesn’t matter.

“No. I’m not doing this again.” 

“Rafe—”

“No, I said no.” The anger wells up fast, a familiar burn in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She’s full of shit, dad. She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”

Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that edge in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a little kid who’s stepped out of line. “You’re overreacting. She’s still your mother.”

“My mother?” He lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His fists tighten at his sides. “She left. She fucking left us. She’s not my mother. She’s just some lady who couldn’t handle shit.”

Ward stands up now. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, stepping forward, his anger boiling over. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored or freaked out. And you—you didn’t do shit!.You just let it happen. Let her walk out over and over.”

“That’s enough, Rafe.”

But he's not done.

He’s too pissed to think straight. “What? You gonna defend her? You’re the one who let her fuck me up like this! You—”

“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, his voice rising. "Grow up. She left.  And you’re still standing here acting like a child over it.”

Something inside Rafe cracks. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. "A child? You don't get it. You never got it. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing." His mind is spinning, flashing back to all those nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day. He feels like he’s suffocating, the anger burning too fast. “I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”

Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”

“Trying? Trying?!” Rafe grits out, stepping forward. All those years, all those broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the hell he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking family reunion. 

“I don’t care what you think about it, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”

“No. No fucking way!” He shouts, his voice shaking as he steps closer to Ward, fists clenched. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into the mess I was. And you—” His chest heaves as he fights to find the words, his throat tight. “You’re just as bad as she is.”

Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “Every time she left, you didn’t do a goddamn thing. You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, leave us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father, just as bad as her."

Ward’s face darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe fires back, stepping even closer, eyes blazing. “You didn’t stop her. You never protected me. You sat there and watched her fuck me up and then turned around and blamed me for it. Like I was the problem.”

“You were the problem,” Ward snaps, “She didn’t know how to handle you, and neither did I. You were a fucking disaster, Rafe. And that’s on you.”

“No. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”

Ward takes a step forward, “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sisters. Sarah wants this. Weezie deserves a chance to know her mother. It’s not all about your issues, Rafe. Grow up.”

“Grow up?” He feels like he’s suffocating, “You think I’m the one who needs to grow up? 

“Enough. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”

All the work he's put in, all the shit he's tried to fix, feels like it’s slipping right through his fingers. He can’t be here. Not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. That itch beneath his skin is back after years, that’s how much control his parents have over him.

Rafe’s hands are still shaking as he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. It feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and his thoughts are spinning, they’re all crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.

He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His dad’s voice, cold and cutting, telling him he’s the problem. That he’s always been the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, trembling like he’s about to snap, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: He can’t go to you like this.

The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… this feels different. He can’t let you see him like this—not the old Rafe. Not the one who almost lost everything.

You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.

He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, somewhere he swore he’d never go again. But right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His head’s spinning, his body buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, and he just needs it to stop.

So, he turns the key in the ignition and drives. It doesn’t take long to get to Barry’s. He knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years. He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping faintly from inside. It’s like nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and spilled liquor lingering in the air.

Rafe sits there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, breathing heavy. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. 

He climbs out of the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking, and heads toward the door. The second he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a wave, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.

Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.

“Country Club!”, Barry drawls when he notices him, smirking around the joint. “Now this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d ever see you walk through that door again. Thought you were all clean now, with your pretty little girlfriend.”

He tenses at the mention of you. But he can’t walk out now. Not after what just happened with Ward. Not when everything inside him feels like it’s about to blow.

“I just need something,” Rafe mutters, avoiding Barry’s eyes, already regretting this but not enough to stop.

Barry raises an eyebrow, amused. “Something, huh? You know, you’ve got a real habit of showing up here when you’re all fucked up.” He laughs, low and mocking. “What’s the matter this time? Daddy issues again?”

His jaw tightens. “Just give me what I want.”

Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor. “You sure you wanna go down that road again, man? Thought you were past this shit.”

“I don’t care,” Rafe snaps, his voice low, shaking with frustration and something darker. “You know what I want. Go get it.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, Barry just looks at him, sizing him up. Then, with a shrug, he gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing. About what this means.

Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of Rafe, “Knock yourself out.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bag, his fingers already moving on autopilot as he pulls out his wallet and shoves a roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless. He knows this is going to hurt you, more than anything else. But ll he wants is to forget. Just for a little while.

His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line.

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You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch. The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed. 

The day’s been dragging—work was a shitshow, and all you’ve been thinking about is Rafe. You haven’t heard from him since this morning, which isn’t weird, but there’s been this nagging feeling in your chest, like something’s off.

“Hey,” Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water and lean against the counter. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.

“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”

She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”

You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”

“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”

Your stomach drops. Instantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Looked like his truck,” your sister says, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”

But you know better.

A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. You’ve heard Rafe talk about Barry. Back when things were bad—really bad—he was the one who kept him hooked, who kept pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addication and Barry’s name came up more than once.

And if his truck’s outside Barry’s, you know something’s wrong.

It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day. 

“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”

Monica frowns, finally understanding. “Oh. Shit. You think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, already pulling out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages. You scroll through the last few texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Except the silence. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.

You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure. “Maybe he was just stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”

But she doesn’t finish, and you don’t need her to. You know what it means. You feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place—And he didn’t come to you. He went to Barry instead.

Why didn’t he come to you?

“I need to go,” you say, your voice coming out more panicked than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Your heart’s racing, your mind is spinning, and the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. You’re grabbing your keys off the counter before your sister can even answer.

“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Monica asks, a bit alarmed now, but you don’t have time to explain.

“I need to find Rafe.”

Your sister steps forward, “Is it really that serious? I mean, maybe he’s just—”

“He’s not just anything,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”

Rafe had told you everything about his past—every ugly detail about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights, the constant mess of it all. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.

And now? He’s slipping. And you weren’t there.

Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t need to numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey.

He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again. But something must’ve happened.

Something big. 

Why didn’t he tell you?

The thought is suffocating. You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, but he’s been so careful with you, always making sure you never had to see the side of him that scared him the most. He’s opened up about his struggles with anxiety, about how he sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this… this is different. 

This is worse.

It had to be Ward. He’s has always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it messes with him in ways you can barely understand. She’s the one person who could make him spiral, and Ward is the one person who could push him over that edge.

You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.

He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.

You sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, trying to calm yourself down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re even going to say when you see him.

You get out of the car and practically run toward Barry’s door. You know this place, know the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here, when Barry’s dad still ran the business. 

You don’t even knock. You push the door open. Barry’s on the couch, looking up lazily when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.

He looks like a ghost.

Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, glaring at him before turning your full attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”

“W-What?”

“Baby, look at you.”

He tries to stand, his movements slow, like his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, his pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying slightly, barely able to keep his balance.

“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, the words slurring together. His hand goes to his hair, but it’s shaking, and he can’t even look at you. “It’s not—”

“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him, his clothes disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.

He stumbles again, trying to step toward you, but he’s so high he can barely stand. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he rasps out, finally meeting your eyes for just a second before looking away. “Didn’t want you to... think I was still... still that guy.”

“You’re not that guy anymore,” you say softly, even though right now, he looks too much like that guy. “But you’re acting like him.”

His head drops, and he looks down at the floor, his shoulders sagging, defeated. “Didn’t know...what else to do.”

“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice breaks on the last word, “You went to Barry instead of me?”

“Hey now—"

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” You almost scream in Barry's face, your chest rising with each breath you take. Rafe can't stand to look you in the eyes right now. He can't see the disappointment.

“You always know what to do. You call me. You come to me. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face like he’s enjoying every second of your heartbreak. “You’re better than this. Get in the car. We can talk about this.”

But he shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”

“Why?” 

 “Just… too much. Hurts too much.” He looks down, guilt washing over him. “Didn’t want you to see... this.”

“Then get in the car. We can figure this out together.” Your voice cracks, the hurt pouring out.

He hesitates, shaking his head again. “I… can’t.”

It pushes something inside you.

Maybe you’ll regret it later but now it’s all you can think about. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better. 

“You can either get in this car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”

“Y-You’ll leave?” He’s looking at you despite the fog in his brain, not sure if he’s hearing you correctly, “Leave me?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“E-everyon leaves right?"

He’s never said anything like that to you before.

“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”

You know you can’t fix this for him. He has to make the choice. His eyes dart toward Barry for a second, and Barry just shrugs, clearly not giving a damn about anything but his next hit. 

“I love you, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

For a second, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor like he’s already made his decision.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, barely audible. “But I don’t know how to stop.”

Your heart breaks a little more at that. “Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”

If he doesn’t come with you, you’re not sure where this ends for him. He’s stuck, frozen in place, trapped by whatever’s going on in his head, and you realize that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you want to save him, you can’t force him to choose you. You can’t make him get in the car.

“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”

Rafe looks up at you, eyes glossy, and for a second, you think he might actually say something — something that will make this all okay, something that will bring him back to you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a line. You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.

“Okay,” you nod, barely holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”

You turn and walk out the door, your heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, because if you do, you know you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that. Not now. But as you get into your car and grip the steering wheel with your entire strength, the sobs come anyway.

You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you. Not this time.

Rafe doesn’t even register the sound of the door slamming behind you. It’s like he’s watching everything happen from somewhere far away, his body numb, his mind completely blank. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never really hit him. They just floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached. The room is spinning a little, his chest tight, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.

You left.

He knows that happened, but it doesn’t mean anything right now. He can’t process it. Not in this state. Not when the drugs are still in his system, making everything feel like it’s underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working. It’s just static.

Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, but he doesn’t hear him either. It’s like the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, muscles tense, but inside? Inside he’s empty.

Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here, not when he’s this far gone. The light changes through the window, but it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes. Just darkness. Maybe he did too many lines.

At some point, he wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to figure out where the hell he is. 

It takes a second for everything to catch up. To realize he’s at Barry’s.

And then, it hits him all at once. You.

You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.

His chest tightens, a sick, sinking feeling crawling up his throat. He sits up too fast, his head swimming. Fuck.He rubs his hands over his face, trying to calm his breathing. His thoughts are still sluggish. You left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t even try.

Why didn’t he stop you?

Before he can think too much about it, Barry saunters in, a smug grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a low, mocking laugh.

“Well, well, well,” Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”

Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.

Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”

The shame is settling in now, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear anything. But Barry just keeps going, like he’s enjoying watching him fall apart.

“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” Barry continues, “Girl like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”

If he felt strong enough he would’ve punched that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next. Who the fuck did he think he was to talk about you like he knew you.

He knows Barry’s just trying to get under his skin, but it’s working. He feels sick. He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use.

“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “And now you’re right back here. Same old Rafe.”

Same old Rafe. He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with Barry, done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be.

But now? Now he’s right back where he started. And the worst part? He let you see it. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he even can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.

Rafe doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t need to. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand. 

Barry watches him, that same smug grin never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised. Not at all.

"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not anymore. 

Not after everything he’s already fucked up. He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, the room still spinning a little as he stumbles toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him, as if the drugs are the only thing holding him together. 

"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his teeth grinding together, but he doesn’t turn back. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does.

He walks away. He doesn’t think. He just keeps moving, out of the door, out into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.

It’s been two weeks since you last saw Rafe.

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Two weeks of silence, of unanswered calls and texts that sit there on your screen and make you cry every time you look at them. You told him you’d leave, but you didn’t mean it. You never meant it.

You just needed him to fight. For himself. But he didn’t.

And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.

Every morning you wake up with this heavy impossible ache in your chest, and it only gets worse as the day goes on. You keep wondering where he is, if he’s okay, if he’s even thinking about you or if he’s too far gone to care.

You miss him. God, you miss him.

Now you don’t even know where he is. If he’s still spiraling or if he’s hit rock bottom.

You’ve barely been able to keep it together at work. Every time you try to focus, that image of Rafe in his absolute worst slips in, and you never get anything done. You’ve called in sick twice, just to stay in bed and cry, because you can barely breathe.

You’ve reached out to Sarah a few times, trying to understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t know much either. "He’s off the grid," she’d told you last time, "Doesn’t want to talk to anyone."

That was a week ago.

And now you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, debating if you should try one more time. One more call. One more text.

Because this can’t possibly end this way. 

He’s the love of your life.��

Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”

“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”

Your stomach drops, “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

You can hear her take a shaky breath. “It’s Rafe. He’s, shit, it’s bad. Like, really bad.”

 “What do you mean, bad? Sarah, what happened?”

“Dad’s trying to get his doctor on the line,” she says, her voice cracking. “Just in case he ODs.”

Your blood turns ice cold.

“He’s not picking up,” she continues, her words spilling out in a rush, like she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down. “Dad’s freaking out, and Rafe—he’s not making sense. He’s been on a bender for days, and now he’s just... he’s not there. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you could—”

“I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already standing, your body moving on autopilot.

You hang up before she can say anything else, grabbing your keys and rushing out the door. The drive to Tannyhill  feels like it takes forever as your mind comes up with worst-case scenarios. You’ve seen Rafe struggle before—you’ve seen the dark places he’s been—but if Sarah’s calling you, if Ward’s getting a doctor involved….

You barely notice you’ve already parked the car, barely notice the front door swinging open as you run inside. The house is quiet, too quiet.

Sarah’s standing by the staircase, her eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say anything, just nods toward the living room.

And that’s when you see him.

He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, his eyes half-open but glazed over, like he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is pale, clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks like half a version of himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”

“Rafe?” you call, stepping toward him. But he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even flinch. He just stares ahead, eyes unfocused, like he’s not even aware you’re there.

Sarah’s standing behind you now, her voice low, “He won’t talk to us. He’s too far gone.”

You sink down beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. You reach out, hesitating for a second before gently placing your hand on his arm.

“Rafe,” your voice wavers. “Baby, it’s me. Please… please talk to me.”

But there’s nothing. Just silence.

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes meet yours—but it’s like looking at a ghost. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. Not right now. Not in this moment. And it kills you.

You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.

Ward's still on the phone, pacing like a caged animal, his voice a angry hum in the background. His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes red and puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, and you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this. 

After what feels like an eternity, the front door bursts open, and a doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. The doctor, some guy Ward must have on speed dial for situations like this, doesn’t waste any time. He kneels down beside Rafe, checking his pulse, his pupils, his breathing.

“This is bad,” the doctor mutters, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”

Lucky. 

The paramedic moves in, setting up an oxygen mask, checking Rafe’s vitals, and it feels like the room is spinning. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.

Ward finally hangs up the phone and stands there, watching as the doctor works. “Is he gonna be okay?” he asks, his voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.

The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We need to take him in. I’m stabilizing him, but if this had gone on any longer, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

You feel like you're going to be sick.

The paramedic starts prepping him for transport, and you stand there, helpless, watching as they move him onto a stretcher. His body looks so limp, so fragile. They’re talking about taking him to the hospital for observation, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

Ward steps forward, he watches his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes. 

“I should’ve seen this coming,” Ward says, his voice shaking. “I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault.”

You feel something snap inside of you.  “I’m sure it fucking is.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there like a fucking idiot. Sarah is beside you now, her hand on your arm, gently pulling you back. “Let’s go,” she mutters,“We should go with him.”

You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.

You climb into your car, Sarah beside you, and you both sit there for a moment in silence, watching as the ambulance pulls away, taking Rafe with it.

“I’m scared,” Sarah admits. 

You close your eyes, and nod. “So am I.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe. She sits beside you, staring straight ahead and neither of you says another word.

The hospital is quiet when you arrive, eerily so. You both rush in, Sarah at your side, searching for the emergency room and after a bunch of paperwork and hurried conversations, you’re finally led to the waiting room. The doctor said they’d keep you updated, and you sit down on those stiff, uncomfortable chairs, the waiting begins.

Minutes drag by like hours. You try to text or scroll through your phone, anything to distract yourself, but you can’t focus. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Rafe. It’s like your brain is stuck on replay, and you can’t shut it off. Sarah’s over there biting her lip until it’s bleeding. Every now and then, she looks at you, like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t. And you don’t either. You can’t. What the hell would you even say? It feels like you’re both waiting for the worst possible news and just pretending you’re not.

After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time. 

The doctor sighs, and he looks tired, like this isn’t the first time he’s delivered news like this today.

“We stabilized him,” he says, “He was really close to an overdose, but we got to him in time. He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are stable for now. We’ll keep him under observation for at least 24 hours.”

You finally take a deep breath, but it’s shaky, and it doesn’t feel real. 

Sarah doesn’t even hesitate. The second the doctor says Rafe’s stable, she’s heading towards his room, like she needs to see him, to make sure for herself that he’s really still here. You don’t follow her, though. Your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, if you move, you’ll just collapse right there in the hallway.

As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you know you can’t handle it. Not right now. You’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hold it together, and this is the first time you feel like you can finally breathe. Like you’re not suffocating with worry.

What you need more than anything is to get out of here. To just breathe, to close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out, strung out, burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. Maybe not perfect, maybe not healed, but for now, he’s alive. 

The next day, you finally gather the courage to see him. You feel like you might throw up at any second. You stop outside his room, staring at the door for what feels like forever, trying to convince yourself to go inside.

He’s lying in bed, looking like he barely walked out of this one alive, but he’s awake. His eyes meet yours the second you step inside, and you feel like you’re going to start crying at any given second. 

“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.

Rafe blinks, like he’s surprised to see you. His voice is rough when he speaks, cracked from everything his body’s been through. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” He’s genuinely shocked. As if he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. From him. You swallow hard, taking a step closer to the bed. “Of course I came, Rafe.” Your voice is soft, barely holding together. “Where else would I be?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm, like he can’t stand to look at you. 

“Sarah called me. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “She shouldn’t have,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, barely there.

“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. And I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, your throat closing up, and you bite your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”

You can see his chest rising and falling slowly, and for a split second, you think he’s not going to answer at all. That he’s just going to keep shutting you out. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”

Your heart breaks all over again because you’ve already seen it. You’ve seen every part of him—the good, the bad, the absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’re still standing in this stupid hospital room because you love him. He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You step closer to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Just a little bit.

“Don’t say that,” you reach for his hand. He flinches at first but doesn’t pull away when you lace your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you to let me help you.”

He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”

You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. That deep-rooted pain that always seems to haunt him when he talks about her is stronger than you’ve ever seen before. 

“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I just make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to swallow down the rest of his words, the ones he can’t say out loud.

“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, not caring if he feels like a mess or if you’re being too much. You just want him to feel like he’s not alone. “Baby, I know you’re hurting,” you murmur into his shoulder, “But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”

“You have,” you admit, “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”

He looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s waiting for you to just walk out of that hospital room and never look back. But you don’t.

You tighten your grip on his hand, "You don’t get to decide that for me.  I’m still here because I love you. Even when you push me away.”

“You shouldn’t love me,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of fact, like it’s already been decided.

You shake your head, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his cheek. “But I do, Rafe. I always will. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, we’ll figure it out, together, okay? One step at a time.”

He nods, barely, but it's something. It’s a start.

[suplicyy]

heyy hope you’re gonna take this request, can you write something about canon kuroo confessing?

No time skip please. Like with a female reader which doesn’t act in love with him like the rest of the girls, she’s not pick me or stuff like this.

So Kuroo can do nothing but finally talk to her because he can’t stand the fact that she’s different from other girls.

I can’t really picture canon Kuroo confessing, that’s why I’m asking, I really like your writing!

Thank u so much

Notice me Please!!!

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

— Summary: He has his eyes on you, but for some reason you don't look back.

— Tags/Genre: Fem!Reader | Fluff

— Warnings: None!

Kuroo drums his fingers impatiently on his desk, and with one hand resting on his chin, he stares at your figure across the classroom. You seemed quite entertained listening to music, which he has no idea what it is, but that sight makes him feel something inside him.

Frustration. He admit that he can't stand seeing you like this, because you're never like that when he tries to talk to you, and that made him feel a kind of jealousy, even if it was for something inanimate.

Every time you talked to him, you seemed indifferent, almost as if you were uninterested. Damn, why don't you look at him with the same twinkle in your eye when you're listening to something on your stupid headphones?

It's been a while since Kuroo started to have strong feelings for you, your heart skips a beat every time you pass each other in the school hallways, with Kuroo always looking back when you pass by him. But he never revealed that to you of course.

And no matter how many bad jokes or flirtations he told you, how many little gifts he left in your locker or on your desk in secret and then hinted that he was the one who left them there, it seemed like you never cared about his desperate actions for your attention.

At first, he thought this was just the way you acted, that you were more shy and reserved. But then he noticed the giggles you had with your friends, how talkative you seemed to be around them.

Now he thinks the problem is with him, that maybe you hate his presence, or just don't care about him.

He is a relatively popular person at school. His volleyball team reached the Nationals, which gave great prominence to all the team members, especially him. So it's no surprise to hear girls gossiping about Kuroo in the hallways.

To tell the truth, he didn't care much about it, sometimes he would even tease Yaku for having more fans than him, but that was it.

The only person he craves attention from is you.

But he doesn't know if you feel the same way, or at least care about his existence.

So that's why today would be the day he would bring the whole truth to light. His only option now would be to confess to you. Maybe it was a last choice made out of desperation and doubt, but he can no longer bear your indifference towards him.

Your club activities are over, so you can finally go home after a tiring day of boring classes and uninteresting people.

Now, you were walking towards the school exit, but you soon stopped when you saw a certain boy with a peculiar hairstyle standing at the gate, almost as if he was waiting for someone.

You figured he was waiting for Kenma to go home since they were best friends, so you didn't care much about it and continued walking to the exit.

"Hey, [Name]!"

A familiar voice calls you. And as you turn to the side, you see Kuroo walking towards you, waving at you.

"Let's go home together, shall we?" you look around, and then you look at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you going with Kenma?" "He said he needed to go somewhere else to buy a new game, something like that. And since I'm alone... I thought about going with you."

He gives you a smile that would make anyone fall in love immediately, but it never seemed to have any effect on you.

You looked at him with an enigmatic expression, almost as if you want to read him through his actions and words. "Um, sure." You say as you adjust your backpack hanging on your shoulder, soon starting to walk, with Kuroo by your side.

Your house wasn't that far from the school, but in the situation you were in, it felt like an eternity had passed since you left the school gates and started walking.

Neither of you exchanged a single word, except for Kuroo who was humming some random song.

"Y'know..." he says after a moment, which made you direct your gaze to him, who was still staring at the path ahead.

"I once heard you listening to this song. You turn your music up so loud that anyone who passes by can hear it coming from your headphones." your expression changes to one of surprise.

"S-Seriously? I never realized that..." you laugh awkwardly, looking away to the floor.

"Yeah... but it's not because of music or headphones that I called you to walk with me." Kuroo stops walking unexpectedly, making you stop too.

Looking back, you notice his expression is more serious, almost as if he is a little nervous.

"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you."

His tone of voice seemed to have changed too, which left you confused, or even a little nervous, as much as you didn't want to admit it.

"I...like you, [Name]." As he uttered these words, it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from the boy's shoulders, his previously tense posture allowing himself the luxury of relaxing, even if for a brief moment.

However, the opposite seemed to manifest in you. Previously unconcerned about what this simple walk would offer you, it was almost as if your breath was suddenly caught in your throat. Your heart soon feels like it's leaving your body, hammering in your chest in a fast, nervous rhythm.

"Huh?" you say in disbelief at what you heard. Shock quickly turns to annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "Look... don't think this kind of joke is funny, because you won't hear me laugh about it."

"Joke? Why would you think that?" Kuroo says this right after with a nasal laugh.

He walks closer to you, and you instinctively step back, until your back is in contact with a large tree that was close to the sidewalk. He stops right in front of you, and looks at you with a touch of doubt, almost as if he had heard something incredible.

"Why do you think I would make fun of something like that? You- my feelings for you... would never be a joke to me." he says with an affectionate tone, his eyes softening for a moment as he maintains eye contact with you.

"Maybe this could have been just a challenge your friends arranged for you, like in those cliché movies." your tone conveys sarcasm, but with a touch of bitterness "Or maybe some pretty girl rejected you, and is now looking for solace in anyone even remotely close to you..." "Or even-"

Your words are cut off as you feel Kuroo's lips land tenderly on your cheek. His hand reaches out to cup the other side of your face, and the other lands on the tree behind you, pinning you there.

"I like you, [Name]." he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "And I will tell you this until you can't prove otherwise."

Kuroo takes his hand off the tree and takes your hand, then looks at you seriously. "And I mean it."

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly compose yourself, and a small smile appears on your face, but this time it's genuine.

"Hmm, so you want to win me over, huh?" you push yourself away from the tree, placing your free hand on his shoulder. Your sudden closeness makes Kuroo surprised, making him suddenly feel shy.

"Only words won't convince me... you better work hard for it, Tetsurou." you move away from him, and start opening your backpack, looking for your headphones.

You give a small wave to Kuroo, but without turning towards him, focusing only on the path in front of you.

Dumbfounded, Kuroo waves back, his cheeks dyed with pink in embarrassment.

"Thank you for accompanying me, but I can go on my own from here." You say as you fit your headphones onto your head, putting on a random playlist that you made in honor of your little crush, who is definitely not Kuroo Tetsurou (it is).

— A/N: Uh........hi........I'm back.............

First of all, I want to apologize a thousand times to whoever sent me this request, I'm really sorry it took me SO LONG to post this. In addition to apologizing to everyone who follows me here, for not having given any sign of life for more than a month....😭

I really don't have a real excuse for doing this other than a total of 0 creativity and several hours of my life in hell (school), so I really needed to take this time for myself, until I felt more comfortable coming back here again.

I'm currently feeling quite creative artistically, mainly because I'm watching MHA again (which I'll probably bring here on my page) and also because I'm reading the Haikyuu manga. Plus, I passed pretty much every subject at school, so I don't have to worry so much about grades.

So...I'm officially back now!! I apologize again, and in compensation for this, I am already writing 3 more new things for you (2 are from MHA😜😜🤪); and I also won't open requests until I finish writing these, so stay tuned!!

[runninriot]

Only Me

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

week 3 prompts: rough, aftercare | rated: E | wc: 2.737 | tags: sub Eddie Munson, mean dom Steve Harrington, restraints, nipple clamps, impact play, mild degradation kink, established relationship | also on ao3

  “Please! You promised!”

Eddie’s eyes are wet with unshed tears, wide and pleading and so goddamn pretty. He always is when he’s like that. When he’s all tied up and helpless, squirming and writhing. Uselessly tugging at the restraints keeping his arms above his head, beautifully exposed, defenceless and at Steve's mercy.

It’s a sight Steve will never get sick of, will never not feast on – especially when his eyes catch all the signs of love he left on pale skin, all the marks, the claims, the trails of colour painting his boyfriend’s body.

Lust reflecting back at him from Eddie’s strained neck that’s covered in bruises, angry red lines revealing where Steve dragged his nails a little too rough over sensitive skin, remains of a greedy mouth baring its teeth – Steve’s art scattered all over this bare perfection in front of him.

Eddie is everything he never thought he could have, submissively offering himself to be used in every way he knows they both enjoy when they indulge in this dissolute act of love.

It’s his favourite game.

   “Don’t think you’ve earned it, yet,” Steve answers his boyfriend’s feeble attempt to make him relent, to give what he’s so desperate for.

Later, not now. Steve isn’t done playing his wicked games and he knows Eddie can take some more; it would be such a waste to skip this part just because Eddie is a little cock slut, needy for Steve’s dick to stuff him and fill him up.

Eddie jerks when Steve pulls at the clamps biting into his nipples, giving each side a rough tug that must send painful ripples of electric shocks through his body.

   “Ow! Oh fuck, Steve! Please, I can’t-“

His voice cracks, words dissolving into an unintelligible sequence of pitiful sounds when Steve grants himself permission to pull again, harder this time.

   “Did you say something? Couldn’t hear you over your pathetic whining.”

It’s his second favourite part of the game, to provoke and be mean, to remind Eddie who’s in charge and who isn’t, let the little Devil inside him take the lead.

   “Keep complaining and I won’t give you anything,” Steve warns and Eddie tries to comply but seems unable to swallow the needy whimpers that break through his parted lips.

   “I’ll give you what you need. I always take care of you, don’t I?”

Eddie nods weakly.

   “Use your words, baby.”

Steve’s thumbs and fingers linger on either side of the clamps, not pinching, not pulling, just resting there as a silent threat Eddie understands wordlessly.

   “A-always. You always take care of me,” he stammers, voice weak but with certainty in his words because he knows Steve will never not give him what he needs.

It’s wonderful, bad for his already too big ego but a treat nonetheless. To hold such power over someone else makes him feel superior, godlike almost, with the way Eddie bows to him. Perfectly obedient, unless he’s being a brat but even then, Steve never loses the upper hand, knows exactly what to say and do, how to create a scene that fulfills both their needs.

   “Exactly. And that’s why you’re going to stop begging like a needy little whore and let me take my time with you.”

Careful, almost gentle compared to his earlier actions, Steve relieves Eddie from the torment, giving the overstimulated nerves in his nipples a moment to relax, letting him shiver through the lingering pain just long enough for him to catch his breath before he continues the teasing torture.

It’s too inviting, the sight of reddened skin and swollen flesh, so he gives into his sadistic nature and lets his thumbs rub in pretend-soothing circles around the sensitive area.

Eddie cries out for Steve to stop but he doesn’t mean it, not really – he knows what to say when he needs Steve to slow down. So, Steve keeps going unfazed, closing his mouth around one of the hardened buds to suck at it, greedy and rough, until Eddie’s moans turn to soft, defeated little whimpers.

   “Sorry, baby,” Steve says, not feeling sorry at all.

His lips curl into a wicked grin when he notices the tear streaks on Eddie’s face and it fills him with a twisted sense of pride that he’s the one responsible for making his boyfriend cry.

It’s paradox. Steve loves Eddie with all his heart, would never hurt him, wants nothing more than to see him smile. But this right here is different, those tears are good tears, this is the good kind of pain, the one that makes Eddie beg for more.

And beg he does, insistent and impatient, needs something inside to fill the emptiness, his loose hole clenching around nothing now that the plug they’ve used to open him up lies abandoned on the side of the bed. Steve crawls further up between his thighs, can’t bite down a mean laugh when he sees Eddie’s eyes widen, probably thinking he’s finally getting what he’s been asking for. He doesn’t, is the thing, all he gets is Steve’s hardness brushing his skin, leaving a trail of slickness on its way when he leans over him, untying the rope around his wrists.

Slowly, he brings Eddie’s arms down, thumbs rubbing over the faint redness he caused by pulling too hard, fighting against the restraints he specifically had asked for. Steve kisses each wrist before he drops them on either side of Eddie’s body.

   “Kiss me,” he demands, and Eddie complies instantly, lifts his head to capture Steve’s lips with his own.

The kiss is deep but slow, some calm before a storm only Steve knows is coming.

   “Turn around,” Steve commands when they part, voice stern and eyes not leaving Eddie’s, who looks at him with a mix of confused frustration and thrilling excitement.

On his hands and knees, Eddie offers a sight that makes Steve’s cock throb, makes it hard to resist the urge to push inside. To take without warning and finally give in to Eddie’s pleas.

Not yet, though. Eddie’s going to have to earn it. And so does Steve.

The thing about playing with Eddie like this, about taunting him by making him wait and beg and then wait some more, is that Steve, too, had to learn patience and how to maintain control over his own body’s reactions. Not wanting to lose himself too early, not wanting to miss out on the reward of falling together.

Steve places both hands on Eddie’s hips, feeling just a little bit bad for making it seem as if he’s aligning himself with his boyfriend’s ass, hole gaping and ready to take him.

   “Will you fuck me, please?”

Eddie opens his legs some more, hips swaying in Steve’s hold – he’s getting impatient, desperate to be filled.

   “No.” It’s such a small word, two letters that hold so much power because it’s all Steve has to say to make Eddie lose his mind.

Before he can complain, Steve’s hands slide down, grabbing his ass with both hands, fingernails digging into tender flesh and burning skin, digging deep enough to leave marks before letting go completely

Eddie cries out a weak little ‘Oh, fuck!’, voice trembling with anticipation. He knows what’s coming, knows how Steve will make him earn his right to be fucked.

   “Are you gonna be my good little whore?” Steve asks and Eddie answers with a nod and a whimper as he braces himself for what’s to come, no doubt already starting to become headless, always getting a little dumb when Steve degrades him with words.

When he calls him a slut. A toy. A stupid, cock-drunk mess.

Baby or whore, it doesn’t really matter what he calls him; Eddie can be both and Steve can say either with love – they’re interchangeable, mean the same thing in the language they share like a secret code.

The first contact of Steve’s palm with Eddie’s ass is barely more than a hard tap, nothing to really cause pain, only to slightly warm up his cheek. So does the second and third, but before Eddie can ask for more, Steve’s hand sinks down again with a loud smack, making rosy colour bloom on pale skin.

   “Ah! Yes, yes fuck, more please!”

One, two, three, four, five more slaps, each one harder than the one before, Steve’s hand striking down in the rhythm to Eddie’s cries, every hit drawing out another beautiful sound that goes straight to his own dick.

Steve loses count but the angry red colour in the shape of his hands is spurring him on to keep going until Eddie’s moans turn into sobbing.

   “What’s wrong, baby? D’you need me to stop? Or do you want me to go harder? Your choice.” Steve grins, tongue licking over his teeth like a hungry hyena, excitement pulsing in his lower half because he already knows what Eddie’s answer will be.

   “H-harder. Please, Steve. Need it.”

Always so polite, his perfect boy.

How could Steve resist when he’s asking so nicely?

Only when Eddie’s arms give up and he falls face-first into the mattress, does Steve stop. He marvels at the art he created on his boyfriend’s skin, red and hot, burning under his fingertips as he lets them trail over soon-to-be bruises he’ll have to tend to later.

He lifts Eddie’s weakened body up, holds him by his hips and then, finally, pushes the swollen, purple tip of his cock into the waiting heat that’s been yearning to be filled for so long.

Eddie’s back arches beautifully when Steve thrusts deeper, doesn’t need to hold back, not when Eddie is so open and willing to let him in.

And then he fucks him. Hips snapping hard against Eddie’s sore ass, pulling cry after moan after pathetic little whimper out of the other man’s throat. They’re both too deep, too far gone already, won’t last long, not after building up all this tension and pressure and overwhelming neediness. Ready to fall and come and burst at the seams, lose themselves to each other.

   “You should see yourself. Fuck, baby!” Steve’s eyes are transfixed on the place between his thighs where he watches himself sink deeper, watches Eddie’s body welcome him, swallow him, stretch around him so perfectly. “Taking me so well, so good for me. Ah! So tight! Shit.”

Eddie comes first, cock neglected and untouched, spurts all over himself and the sheets, and the noises he makes are what tips Steve over the edge, spilling his release into the depths of Eddie’s body, shaking apart as he rides out his own orgasm.

He watches the mess he made when he pulls out slowly, watches the trail of his own cum trickling out of Eddie’s sloppy hole, can’t help but to push it back where it belongs, pumping two fingers inside with no resistance where he’d just been buried balls-deep.

Beneath him, Eddie bucks his hips, moaning and panting – Steve knows he’s had enough, knows he would still let him play with him for hours more if Steve insisted.

It’s tempting, his greedy inner Devil already rubbing his hands at the thought. He could plug him, make him keep Steve’s cum inside, could make him suck his spent cock until they’re both hard again.

But there’s always time for that later, tomorrow, the day after – Steve’s not going anywhere and neither is Eddie. They’ve got their whole lives ahead of them, enough years still left to be young and reckless.

Eddie deserves a break, deserves to be loved in a gentler way after being so good, so obedient, so perfect.

Groaning, obviously wrung out and exhausted, sore in all kinds of places, Eddie turns to lie on his back, hissing when his ass hits the sheets.

Steve’s beside him, eyes roaming over his boyfriend’s body, taking in the state of him. Come stains on his belly, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, his legs still slightly trembling, and his mind probably floating somewhere far away – Eddie is a mess in every sense of the word and Steve is about to make it worse. Just a little. Just as a treat for himself before he’s actually going to take care of his sweet boy.

He leans down, parted lips hovering over stained skin, hot breath tickling his boyfriend’s abdomen.

   “Ste-heeve! Stevie, whatcha doing?” Eddie giggles, sounds high or maybe drunk; drunk on Steve, maybe, wouldn’t that be something?

   “Just wanna give back what belongs to you,” he answers vaguely before darting his tongue out.

Eddie squirms, shaking with laughter that turns into a loud moan when Steve’s tongue trails from his pelvis up to his navel, lapping up Eddie’s cum on its way. When he comes back up so he’s face-to-face with the other man, Eddie is already looking at him with wide, curious eyes.

He nods frantically to answer a question Steve didn’t ask and opens his mouth. Steve pushes two fingers over the waiting tongue spilling over his bottom lip, forcing his jaw to open wider before he lets a string of saliva drip from his mouth to Eddie’s, sharing the taste of his own cum with him. It's filthy and beautiful, makes him feel hot all over, regretting the fact that he can't give him more.

   “Good boy,” he teases, tapping Eddie’s cheek with his spit-coated fingers as he watches his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows Steve’s gift obediently.

Eddie’s eyelids flutter shut, expression soft, and Steve seals his lips with a kiss.

   “God, I can’t believe how perfect you are,” Steve’s heart flips when Eddie opens his eyes again, sparkling, dark, and full of adoration and love.

   “So perfect. All for me, only me.”

   “Only you,” Eddie agrees, says it like it’s a promise and Steve feels overcome with selfish satisfaction at the thought of being the only one who’ll ever get to see him like this. The only one to touch him like that. To love him this way.

   “How are you feeling?”

   “Hmm, perfect. Thank you.”

Eddie sounds sleepy, eyelids heavy and hardly staying open. Steve proudly thinks to himself that he must’ve done a real good job tiring him out. But he can’t have Eddie fall asleep like that.

   “Let’s get you in the shower, baby.”

-----

The water is warm and comforting, easing the strain in Eddie’s aching body. Steve doesn’t stop kissing him while he gently scrubs him clean, careful not to hurt him where his skin has already started to change colour.

Steve loves this part, the after, when he gets to worship Eddie’s body with care, soft and slow, different than before but just as wonderful.

Intimacy comes in many forms and although Steve really, really enjoys the rougher side of it, loves to give in to the raw and brute kind of his own desires, he can’t deny that this, here, is even better. To hold an exhausted Eddie in his arms like this, close to his own heart, gently caressing the skin he blemished before, taking care of the bruises and scratch marks, the shapes, and colours Steve left on every part of him, fills him with a different kind of satisfaction.

To be the one allowed to put Eddie back together after tearing him to pieces, is an honour, something Steve cherishes a lot.

When they fall into bed together, naked, and soft, and tired, Steve pulls Eddie close to his chest, whispering love confessions into his hair until Eddie’s breathing calms and he can feel his body sink deeper into the embrace, slowly drifting as sleep takes a hold of him.

His own heart matches the rhythm of Eddie’s, a slow but strong beat that sounds like a love song written only for them. Because they belong together. There could never be anyone else for Steve; his heart and soul belong to Eddie and Eddie alone. And for as long as he'll let him, Steve will give Eddie everything he needs, everything he wants, and sometimes even more than that.

Eddie is his to hold. To fuck and tease. To hurt in all the good ways and to love. No one else but Steve is allowed to touch him like that.

   “Only me,” he whispers once more, a little selfish and a lot possessive but he knows that’s okay because it’s true. And it makes him smile, content and satisfied, before exhaustion finally pulls him under.

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon commission for @i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

Request: I was thinking of doing a warlock x bar keep (maybe a minatour or orc, honestly dealers choice), but because the reader is a warlock her patron (a tentacle guy) is always watching, so she warns the bar keep thinking he will wanna stop, but he dosen’t. So while the bar keep and reader are having sex (in the closed bar), some tentacles from her patron come out and help. And maybe if possible have the patron speak to reader in her mind and just is super condensing and dirty. While the bar keep is super nice and praising. So reader warns orc that tentacle monster will be watching and interacting, but orc doesn't really care, or likes the idea!

A/N: The phrases in italics are said inside the reader and orc’s mind. Enjoy!

After closing

Orc x gn!tentacle monster x warlock fem!reader || tentacle sex, sharing is caring, exhibitionism (kinda?), semi-public sex, double penetration, dirty talk, (light) degradation

You were tending the bar, and all night long, an orc had been chatting you up when you weren’t busy. He was handsome and big, and looked good enough to eat. So when he asked: “Can I stay?”

You couldn’t do anything but to agree. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Let me help you,” he offered as you cleaned the place, taking the broom and doing a quick but efficient job at cleaning most of the dirt on the floor. You weren’t too worried about it, looking at him move and flex was making you all kinds of hot and bothered.

When he finished his helping, you both meet at the table next to the back door. A part of you was hyper-aware of everything around you, of his body getting closer and the predatory shadow in his eyes. He breathed deeply in front of you, his nostrils flaring when he caught your desire in the air. He growled softly, and you whined. You loved your lovers growly.

He launched to kiss you when you softly stopped him with a hand on his chest. “I- I have to warn you, though.”

He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your jaw… “About what?” He asked between kisses, his hands traveling up and down your back, a bit closer to your ass with each stroke. You were slowly losing your mind, but you needed to inform him first, before they appeared.

“The patron…” You started, and your voice broke when he sucked on your neck, his tusks caressing your skin in the most tantalizing way. “He likes to watch and participate,” you finished when your brain came back.

That made him stop. “What?”

“I’m just giving you a heads up, they can appear at any moment and they… they like to participate,” you let out the last part in a whisper. You weren’t sure how he was going to take it, some people left after she told them. Some of them stayed and had the best night of their lives.

You knew he would be one of the second. “Participate, huh?” His smirk and the innuendo in his tone made you shiver in anticipation.

“They are very… enthusiastic.” That was an understatement, but you preferred him to discover that in due time.

His voice lowered a couple octaves as he said: “Are they gonna help me drive you senseless?” And growled a little, making your knees give up under you. He grabbed your ass and sat you on the table, the perfect height for his dick to rub against your clothed pussy. You groaned out loud and he chuckled.

“I don’t know, maybe.” But you knew they would, they had done it every time you dared to have sex at the bar. And if you were completely true to yourself, you’d accept that it was the main reason why you kept inviting some of the patrons to have sex after hours, so you could feel their tentacles over your body again.

“I’m in, I don’t mind sharing, especially if it’s a morsel such as yourself, so delectable.” As he talked he reached to touch your body, his hands finding the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath and touching your soft skin. Your skin was electrified, sending tiny sparks his way, making him shiver in response. “I fucking love sex with warlocks,” he said as he groped your boob, approaching your body and kissing your neck. You send another wave of electricity down his body, making him growl again as you giggled.

“I’m not the first, then?” You joked, not bothered at all by whatever his response might be as you pulled at his shirt and your mouths met. It was exhilarating, to have such a big monster over you, next to you. His green hands traveling over your body like you were a treasure. It was wonderful.

Things got heated pretty quick after that, both of you naked and grinding against each other between frantic kisses when you felt them. It was a tentacle across your ankle, but it rapidly ascended and joined your grinding, wrapping themselves around your orc’s dick and adding texture to it.

Such good sluts for me, the voice of your patron sounded inside your brain, and by the gasp your lover emitted, inside his, too. You two look great all needy grinding against each other, I love to watch that.

You both groaned as the tentacle squeezed his dick and rubbed the suckers against your dripping pussy. Another tentacle joined over the orc’s shoulder, closing around your neck as you gasped for air and parted the kiss. You threw your head back when a third and fourth tentacle groped your tits.

Look at these tits, so perfect to grope, I bet you’d love to be groped in the middle of a service. Yeah, you would… Maybe next time I would just fuck you when everyone is here. You’d like that? Their voice inside your brain was rough and condescending, sending shivers down your body as they kept talking. Of course you’d like that, you are a slut. And our orc friend here… He’s a slut, too. Your orc companion groaned loudly. Look at him all dark green, flustered because a tentacle monster is playing with him.

You looked at him just in time to see some tentacles caressing his body as you watched mesmerized. It was such a turn on to be at the mercy of a powerful tentacle monster… As you got fucked by anther monster, your body was vibrating with pent up energy as hands and tentacles touched you everywhere.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” You chanted as your orc companion groaned, his head thrown back as he was caressed by tentacles.

“Yes. Yes,” he was having problems of his own trying to align his dick with your pussy, the tentacles holding his hands away and sucking on his nipples. He cried out so loud you were worried someone could hear him from the outside, but a part of you found that even hotter. You tried to reach for his cock to do it yourself, but the tentacles stopped you, too.

You two are mine to play, you can’t decide when you do anything.

You were completely at their mercy, both of you were. You felt a tentacle caressing your asshole, probing and pushing lightly, making you moan loudly. Your orc lover wasn’t far behind, probably some tentacles doing the same to him. It was exhilarating to know he was also being fucked, that you two were nothing but toys. And judging by his moans, he thought so, too.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I’ve never- Nobody ever…” He tried, but his voice kept breaking with loud groans. By the time the tentacle breached your asshole, you had half of a brain-cell left. Your body melting against the table as the orc in front of you melted on top of you. His mouth was open in a silent cry as a tentacle breached him. “This is… this is… Oh, Goddess.”

Oh, they sound so good when they are virgins. Your patron chuckled inside your brain. Guess someone is going to discover the wonders of tentacle AND anal sex today.

You wanted to laugh, to agree with him, but you didn’t have time before you felt something against your pussy. The orc’s cock, but it wasn’t alone. The tentacle that was jerking him didn’t let go, it curled around him and helped him inside of you, adding girth and texture to his already huge dick. It broke into you with a pop, your opening accepting them like an offering from the gods.

Such a good slut taking everything I give you, everything we give to you. I love how slutty you get, how desperate when you are stuffed.

You felt everything. The suckers, the ridges, the huge tip of the orc’s cock against your G-spot right before the tentacle moved and latched a sucker there. You screamed so loud you felt your companions shiver inside of you. It was too much, too fast, too far, too tight. You felt fuller than ever, your asshole being fucked by a tentacle, and your pussy overflowing with the combination of your lovers, it was way better than anything you thought possible. It was way better than anything you’ve ever felt before.

“I’m going- I’m gonna… Oh fuck!” His broken cry was accompanied by warm come inside of you, making you scream as you precipitated over the edge with him. It was a blinding orgasm, so powerful and intense that you felt your brain melting inside your brain and your body electrifying itself. “You are glowing, fuck, fuck, you are glowing.” His voice was harsh after screaming, and you realized he was right. Your magic surfacing in the weirdest way when you came, making you glow like a street lamp in the dim interior of the bar.

You came so hard you had to glow? Pathetic. I bet I can make you cry to look even more pathetic than you already are. Such a slut for some monster dick and tentacles… You wanted to answer them, to say something, but their words made you moan, humiliation making you hot all over. Your orc friend wasn’t better, groaning as they kept talking. And you? An orc whore who’ve never been fucked and now is pushing his ass back into my tentacles… ridiculous. But I bet I can make you cry, too. I love when they cry.

And then the tentacles started moving again. Moving his body and his dick, moving themselves inside your assholes. They were playing with you two like you were toys for their entertainment, and you two were powerless to stop them. It was intoxicating.

You came. And he came.

And it happened again. And again. And again.

By the time the tentacle monster decided they didn’t want to play with you two anymore, you were like rag dolls over the table, completely spent and tired, dried of all pleasure in your body. You didn’t even know how much it lasted, but you could hear some rooster far away. It was probably close to dawn… They fucked you two all night long, they squeezed every single drop of pleasure inside of you and left you there when they got bored…

Bar opens again in a couple hours, if I were you I would get dressed. But if you don’t… I guess you’d be the spectacle of the night.

You glowed again, your body responding to their threat as your orc companion got up on shaky legs and got dressed. He kissed your forehead before leaving, telling you he’d be back. You wanted to giggle at his soft whisper, your patron had that effect.

And you couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

You can find more info on individual commissions (here) and Patreon commissions (here). Also you can find all other commissioned work in this masterlist.

[wosoluver]

Bad guy

misa rodriguez x reader

Billie Eilish x woso prompt list

Misa Rodriguez Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Sitting on the couch, watching a thriller movie she knew to well, and constantly rewatched just 'for the plot'.

Misa's concentration had been whisked away, when she heard a knock on the door.

It was late, and she didn't plan on getting it at all, until she heard your voice.

"Misa?"

That caught her attention immediately.

Opening the door she had found you standing there, with a bag hanging from your shoulder. Eyes bloodshot.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?"

If you didn't look the way you did right now- with eyes puffy, tear stained face and entirely disheveled - maybe, just maybe she would have considered not letting you inside the apartment.

Besides being teammates, you were friends, in a complicated way. But this whatever it was- had been torn apart by your recent relationship.

It had been strained, especially these last couple weeks, after you two had a nasty argument, over the fact that she didn't like your boyfriend.

For the last six months she had tolerated the guy. She didn't like him from the beginning.

In part because she resented the fact that she wasn't the one taking you home at the end of the night.

But also, he seemed really shady.

First he started showing up everywhere you were, uninvitedly. Which she brushed off, noticing the way your eyes twinkled when you looked at him.

But then he slowly pulled you away from your friends.

You no longer hanged hang out, outside of training.

Despise wasn't a strong enough word to describe how Misa felt towards him.

"Can I?" you said snapping her out of her thoughts. She nodded rapidly, taking a step to the side, letting you pass.

Misa watched you with hawk eyes, placing your bag down, looking at the tv, trying to lighten up the situation, with a comment.

"This movie again?"

"I like the plot."

"You mean the leading actress?" you said with a small dry laugh.

"We are not changing subjects." she knew you. "What happened?"

"Uhm we just had a fight, don't worry. Normal couple stuff. Can I stay on your couch for the night?"

"Normal couple stuff? We barely talk this days, and you randomly show up at my apartment in the middle of the night? And asks me to not worry about it?" taking a deep breath. "No can't do."

"I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. I'm going to Sofie's."

"No!" she said getting in your way before you could leave. "Just, please tell me what's going on." her face softening. No matter what had happened she would always care.

"You were right."

"About?"

"Him!" you said sitting down at the edge of the couch. "He's a fucking self centered piece of garbage! Can you believe we was trying to manipulate me into leaving football? He wants a stay at home wife that doesn't travel around all the time."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Maybe a month or two,"

"Two?" her tone intensified.

"Since our argument. I started to reflect on what you said. When he brought up the idea of letting go of my job, I went over the edge."

She moved to sit next to you, placing a hand on your knee reassuringly.

"When he found out how close we were, he tried to make you the bad guy.

And I was so desperate..." she hadn't seen you like this in a long time. "But as he became more rigid and demanding, I realized maybe this wasn't good for me at all.

I tried breaking up with him."

now looking into her eyes, your vision blurry again.

"Tried?"

"He got out of control, I was quick to grab some of my stuff and get out."

"If he laid as much as a finger on you-"

"He didn't!"

"He could have! And I wouldn't be there to protect you!" she got up, angry at herself unfairly. Wiping her palms on her sweats.

"Misa, you can't protect me from everything."

"I can try." eyes glossy.

You immediately got up to hug her, taking in her scent you didn't know you had missed it so terribly.

Reaching to give the taller girl a kiss on the cheek, that was a more like the corner of her lips. It was normal between the two of you.

"If I had listened to you, none of this would have happened. I put myself in this situation."

"I shouldn't have let you pull away so easily." she said moving a strain of your messy hair out of your face. "Are you really going to sleep on the couch?"

"If you want me to."

"Ay, no seas tonta." letting out a slight laugh. "By the way, all your stuff is still on the top two drawers." she said following you to her bedroom.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

You woke up with her soft breathing on the back of your neck. How you had missed this. You were now used to waking up to an empty spot next to you, this reminded how much you loved cuddling.

Glad that there was no training today, you turned facing her and went back into deep slumber.

The loud noise of your phone ringing nonstop in the living room had shaken both of you awake. You decided to go check it or at least turn it off.

Seeing his contact on the screen made you scoff.

"He's unbelievable." throwing your phone on the bed. When the phone had started to buzz once again, the goalkeeper was quick to pick it up.

"Diga."

"I want to talk to my girlfriend. Why do you have her phone?"

"Where else did you think she would go after running away from you?"

"Misa!" you whispered yelled standing close to the door.

"I can hear her voice, can you just pass the damn phone?"

"The only person you will talk to from now on, is me."

"This doesn't concern you."

"I beg to differ." and that was her final words before cutting the conversation off.

"Thank you. But you don't need to burden yourself with this."

"Come here." she said from where she was sitting on the bed.

You walked to stand in front of her as she placed her hands on your hips, looking up to you with her beautiful chocolate eyes.

"You know why I sleep on the side closest to the door, when you're sleeping over?"

You nodded, reciting the words she'd always say "If anyone breaks in, they have to go through you first."

"Exactly. You told him you don't want anything to do with him. And now he's going to have to go through me, if he wants to get to you ¿Vale?"

You nodded taking her into your arms as she hugged your torso. She managed to pull you back to bed, joining the warm covers.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Mierda!" you hissed, looking through your bag.

"¿Qué pasa?" she asked from the doorway holding a cup of cafe con leche for you.

"I forgot my computer's charger."

"Use mine for now, do you want to go get the rest of your stuff?"

"No, but also it might be the best if I do."

"After breakfast then?" and you only nodded in agreement.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Okay." she said parking the car, ready to open the door. "Stay here."

"Is that a question or?" you teased her.

"Sorry, I just-"

"Relax, I really don't want to face him." you were thankful for her protective nature, although Misa felt like it could be a bit much at times, you had never felt that way. "But please don't physically hurt him."

"Trust me." she said with a kind smile, getting out of the car.

She would honor her words, but to say she didn't want to punch some sense into him would be a lie. Although that probably would do nothing. If having you by his side didn't make him want to be a better man, she was sure nothing in the world would.

She knocked twice on the door.

"I knew you would come aroun-" he said opening the door, shutting up and gulping at the sight of the intimidating woman on the other side.

"I'm here to get her things." she stood tall, like she did often, arms crossed and face scowling.

He had the audacity to take a step into the hallway, looking both ways, desperate to see if you were there too.

"She sent me."

"Right." he said turning to get a box that was sitting by the door. "Couldn't wait to take my place, huh?"

She had never rolled her eyes so far back, bitting the inside of her cheek then letting a laugh out.

"Still trying to make me the bad guy, huh?" Misa said dryly taking the box from his hands, not waiting for another word and returning to the car.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

I need your guy's help, what should go on next? I don't feel like it's done at all, but I wanted to put it out anyway, maybe someone comes up with something.

I'm also taking in requests! Will add new players to my request list.

As always like & share!

buy me a coffee!

[caffeinateddino]

Post-Rumbling! Levi Ackerman x reader [18+]

title: i hit my toe pt. 2

♡ warnings: sexual content, afab reader, gender neutral pronouns, oral sex, Gentle, soft Levi

A/N: i was sleepy writing this so it could be too emotional or bad idk

summary: You, a former squad leader in the survey corps luckily survived the rumbling and now you're staying with Levi in Marley, attending him and keeping him company

after catching him masturbating, you two end up on his bed

first par is here

The room was dark, save for the faint sliver of moonlight that crept through the small gap in the curtains. You and Levi sat naked on the edge of his bed, an awkward silence filling the space between you. The tension was thick, not born of discomfort, but of hesitation—neither of you sure who should make the first move.

You glanced at him, catching the way his hands rested in his lap, fingers slightly trembling. His gaze was downward, avoiding yours, and his breath was slow but uneven, betraying the conflict raging inside him. Your own heartbeat thundered in your chest, your skin prickling with both nervousness and anticipation.

It hadn’t been planned. Not really. But here you both were, caught in the fragile moment before one of you finally decided to break the silence.

Your mind drifted back to earlier that evening, when everything had still felt simple. Dinner had been quiet but comfortable. The kind of quiet where words didn’t need to fill the air. Afterward, you had insisted on doing the dishes, and Levi, true to his nature, had insisted on helping, drying them as you washed.

That’s when it happened.

He cleared his throat, breaking the peaceful silence. “I know… you lied,” he said, his voice barely audible over the running water.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Lied about what?” you asked, glancing at him. His expression was unreadable, but the way he gripped the towel tighter gave him away.

“About earlier,” he continued, still not looking at you. “When you said you didn’t see or hear anything. I know you did.” His tone was flat, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes when he finally glanced up at you, searching for a reaction.

You froze for a moment, but then let out a light laugh, hoping to ease the tension. “Okay, fine. You caught me,” you admitted, rinsing the last plate. “I saw. And heard. But it’s not a big deal, Levi.”

His eyes darkened, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m… sorry,” he muttered. “For thinking of you like that.”

You turned off the tap, drying your hands before stepping closer to him. “You don’t have to apologize for that,” you said softly, hoping your voice would reassure him. “It’s not a bad thing, Levi. Honestly, it’s flattering.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, as if trying to gauge whether you meant what you said. And you did.

That’s how it started. One minute, you were talking by the sink, and the next, the unspoken tension between you two finally gave way. The careful distance you had maintained for so long crumbled as you both acknowledged the feelings that had simmered beneath the surface. It was quiet, delicate. A kiss here. A touch there. Until, somehow, you found yourselves like this—sitting on his bed, waiting.

Back in the present, you swallowed the lump in your throat and took a breath. The silence had stretched long enough. Tentatively, you reached out, placing your hand on Levi’s bare chest. His skin was warm under your palm, his heartbeat steady but a little faster than usual. You felt him stiffen slightly, but he didn’t pull away. His gaze remained forward, though you could feel his vulnerability radiating through every tense muscle.

“Levi,” you whispered, your voice soft as you slid closer to him.

He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were softer, more open than you’d ever seen them. “I… care about you,” he finally admitted, the words quiet, almost fragile.

You smiled gently, your hand moving up to cup his cheek. “I know,” you replied, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to his lips. He returned the kiss, hesitant at first, but gradually deepening it, as if slowly letting go of the walls he’d kept up for so long.

Your hands wandered down his chest, tracing the scars that marred his skin, each one a reminder of the battles he had survived. But right now, there was no war, no death, no destruction, no titans. Just the two of you, sharing something that felt… safe.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, his body fitting perfectly against yours. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he held himself back even now, so afraid of losing control. You gently stroked his length, and he gasped, a quiet, breathless sound that sent a shiver through you.

He buried his face in your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin as you continued to stroke him, slowly, tenderly. “You don’t have to hold back,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.

His hand clutched your side, his grip tightening slightly as his breath hitched. “I didn’t expect this,” he murmured against your neck, his voice strained. “I didn’t expect to feel this way about you.”

You smiled softly, resting your forehead against his. “Me neither,” you admitted, your hand moving at a gentle, steady pace. “But I’m glad.”

His lips brushed yours again, and this time, the kiss was different. There was no hesitation, only quiet acceptance and need.

you felt him shiver agaisnt you as you continued to slowly stroke him. his back arched slightly, his scarred chest getiing pressed to your breasts harder. another gasp of soft moan and he pressed his face into your neck. you felt his soft moans vibrating through your skin as you continued to stoke him. did handjob even felt that good? maybe. what was making him feel better was the fact that it was your hands on him, gently guiding him to his climax.

"Fuck" he groaned, lifting his injured hand and craddled your cheek as he pressed his mouth on your neck. his grip on your hips hardened. you felt his neatly trimmed nails digging into your skin. you moved your hand from his back and reached for the one that was holding your hips. you felt is whole bodyshiver as you gently moved him to lay him down. He loved it. He loved the way you lead it, the way you take care of him. with a smile you psotioned yourself between his legs, your hand still on him

He watched you with his hooded, steel-grey eyes, his breath ragged, yet steady as you took him into your mouth slowly. he let out a needy moan as he felt the wet heat wrapping him up deliciously, his back arching off of the bed.

Mind you, this man had no experience with someone, this was all too new, too intimate for him. he dangled his uninjured hand into your hait, gently holding it, as if afraid to push too far.

You kept your pace slow, savoring every reaction, every soft moan that escaped him. The vulnerability in his voice, in his touch, made the moment feel more intimate than anything you had ever shared before. you felt your own arousal building upmore and more with each whimper of your name spilled from his mouth.

When he finally reached his release, it was quiet. you felt it coming as his grip tightened around your hair for a second. His body tensed beneath your touch before he relaxed completely, sinking into the bed with a soft, contented sigh.

gulping everydrop of his release, you licked your lips as you locked your eyes into his. he continued to pant, chasing his breath, drinking every move of yours. you leaned down, pressed a loud, playful kiss to the tip of his cock, eliticing a huff of smile from him. You crawled back up to him, rested your face agaisnt his chest. instictively, his arms came to wrap around you. For a while, neither of you spoke, simply basking in the warmth and closeness of the moment.

And for the first time in a long time, Levi felt… at peace.

As you nestled against Levi’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, you couldn’t help but notice how relaxed he seemed, his earlier tension having melted away. For a while, you both simply enjoyed the closeness, the quiet intimacy that had developed between you.

Levi shifted slightly, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Despite his relaxed demeanor, there was a noticeable hint of shyness in his eyes. His uninjured hand gently caressed your back, as if he was contemplating the right moment to say something or do something more.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. “If you’re up for it,” you murmured, your voice gentle, “I’d love for you to return the favor.”

He met your gaze, a mix of desire and uncertainty in his steel-grey eyes. He hesitated, then nodded slowly, his expression turning serious as he considered his movements carefully. Despite the warmth in his eyes, he was mindful of his injured leg, which he kept carefully positioned to avoid any strain.

With a deliberate and cautious movement, Levi gently guided you onto your back, his touch feather-light. His hands were tender as they explored your body, tracing along your sides and settling on your hips. He took a moment to adjust his position, ensuring he was comfortable and that his injury wouldn’t cause him any pain.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss to your lips, his touch delicate but filled with longing. His lips traveled from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses that made you shiver with pleasure. As he kissed and nuzzled your skin, his uninjured hand slipped between your legs, his touch warm and reassuring.

You moaned softly as he began to gently explore you, his touch careful but confident. His fingers moved with a practiced grace, and he seemed to intuitively know just how to bring you pleasure. The way he focused on you, his gaze never leaving your face, made the experience all the more intimate.

Levi’s breathing became more labored as he continued his attentive exploration, his fingers working in rhythm with your responses. You could feel his care and affection in every touch, every movement. Despite his own vulnerability and the pain from his injury, he was determined to make you feel cherished and adored.

When he finally positioned his face between your legs, she looked up at you for your reaction. hearing no complaints, he spread you with his thumb before getting to work. he took his time, his movements tender and deliberate. His tongue danced along your sensitive areas, and he was gentle but insistent, drawing out your pleasure with every flick and swirl.

You gasped and moaned as his warm breath and skilled touch sent waves of pleasure through you. It was like he knew your body better than you did. His uninjured hand continued to caress your body, his touch both soothing and electrifying. His other hand was on your clit. his thumb drew slow circles, accompanying his tongue.

this was a side of him you couldn't even imagine to see. So gentle, So careful. you wondered if this is the same man who told you about his childhood in the underground, the same man ruthlessly sliced titans one by one.

As his touch heightened your arousal, your breathing grew more erratic. “Levi… I want you,” you whispered, your voice quivering with need. you pushed his now messy hair away of his face to look into his ehes “Please…”

Levi’s eyes fluttered open at your words, their steel-grey depths darkened with a mixture of surprise. The sincerity in your plea was met with a look of determined affection. He paused for a moment, taking in your vulnerability and the desire that shimmered in your eyes. it felt goodー to be wanted like that. to be wanted by you.

He positioned himself carefully between your legs, mindful of his injured limb. His fingers traced along your inner thighs with a deliberate slowness, causing your body to tremble in anticipation. His gaze locked onto yours, holding your stare with an intensity that made your heart race and your body wanting to squirm away

With a deep, steadying breath, he aligned himself on to your enterance. With one slow thrust, he entered you, placing his hands on your hips to keep you close. The initial pressure was a sweet, intense sensation, stretching and filling you in a way that made you moan softly. Levi’s movements were slow, measured.

His breath hitched slightly as he adjusted to the sensation, his eyes closing momentarily as he found his rhythm. He leaned in, his lips brushing your neck with soft kisses that was sk different from the firm, steady thrusts of his body. He leaned to your ear, his lips pressing against your skin “Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, his voice a soothing, hushed rumble against you. it made you shiver and reach up to his neck

You wrapped your hands behind his neck, legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and whispered back with a breathless urgency, “It’s perfect. Just… don’t stop.”

Levi’s pace grew more assured, each thrust a deliberate and steady rhythm that pushed you closer to the edge. His touch was both reassuring yet firm and electrifying. The way he moved inside you was a careful blend of passion and tenderness, each motion a testament to his desire he felt towards you.

As you approached your climax, Levi’s movements became more urgent, though still controlled. holding your hips, he lift them slight up, off of the bed as his body pressed deeper into you and he found a rhythm that drove you to the brink. The pleasure was overwhelming, making you cry out his name in a desperate, breathless moan.

Levi responded with a soft, reverent groan, his own release building. His thrusts grew more intense, and with a final, shuddering breath, he reached his peak. His body tensed, then relaxed, and he let out a deep, satisfied groan. You felt his warm release fill you up as he let your hips down again

Afterwards, Levi withdrew, his movements careful and gentle. He lay beside you, his breath heavy but content. You felt the warmth of his body as he reached and pulled you to his chest, placing his chin to your hair

The room settled into a peaceful silence, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the quiet- though he break it after a moment

"Alright, lets go take a shower we're sweaty" he said in his usual deadpan tone. "also we should take a piss. no need to get an infection" okay, Levi was still Levi at least.

[iwassupremacy]

Perfect Girl

Sawamura Daichi x f reader

Part one

Summary: It’s been a few days since your night with Daichi and even though you exchanged phone numbers and he texted you, you haven’t yet gathered the courage to answer him and even less to see him again. But you can’t stop yourself from wanting more.

Warnings: smut, aged up characters, softdom!Daichi, sub!reader, inexperienced!reader, sub drop (low key?), age gap of 7 years LEGAL OFC, thigh riding, nipple play,

“YOU HAD SEX?!” your best friend screams and dramatically slaps her hand on her mouth. You visibly cringed and looked away. “Don’t say it. Makes it real.” You mumbled.

“I’m fucking saying it. It’s fucking real, Y/N. You got laid. And looking at the way you’re blushing, it wasn’t bad. I would even dare to say you enjoyed yourself.” She laughed pointing at your neck “And clearly he enjoyed you too.”

You groaned. “Shut up. I’m lost. I don’t know what to feel or to think.”

The look in her face changed to something way more empathetic. She scooted closer to you and wrapped her arms around your fragile figure. “It’s okay, babe. How about you tell me about it first? If you want to.”

“He said all that?! Ohh he’s a talker.” Your best friend was literally kicking her legs in the air and squeaking. You frowned. “What?”

“You know, some guys don’t really talk much during sex. They just do their thing and are pretty much quiet while doing it. Some guys don’t even do anything tho. That’s when you have to take the lead.” She explained.

Your eyes widened. The idea of taking the lead in a situation like that frightening to you.

“But from what you just told me he sounds like he’s got both down just fine.” She calmed you

“Anyway, what next? What did you do? Do you have his number?”

You bit your lip and told her about the night three days ago.

After Daichi made you trink what felt like a gallon of water, you obviously had to go to the toilet. Finally peeing after he annoyed you about that all night.

Not once did he leave your side, checking up on you and asking wether you were fine or not several times.

It made you feel all giddy and made your stomach twist in a very comfortable way. But you still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling inside you.

You just lost your virginity. Your virtue. To a random man you met at a club.

Sure he made it very clear that he was interested in you beyond just sex and assured you plenty of times that you didn’t have to sleep with him. But still.

What if that wasn’t true? Or worse. What if you did go on a few dates with him and all your chemistry got lost after immediately doing it?

How would you explain this to your parents? You probably shouldn’t. Would he ever meet your parents?

“You’ve been sitting on the toilet staring at me for more than 10 minutes now, sweetheart. I can see the wheels turning in your pretty head. What’s going on?”

You got torn away from your thoughts by his voice and only then realized you were actually staring at him standing across from you, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh. Nothing. I’m sorry for making you wait.” You quickly wiped yourself and flushed the toilet.

You stood up and now the two of you were just a few inches apart, both still naked and staring at each other.

Daichi’s brow raised. “No need to apologize. You are definitely thinking about something, don’t lie to me. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”

Once again his natural dominant behavior and especially his communication skills left you blushing and looking away.

But he didn’t have it. Instead he took your face in his hands and made you look at him again. You quickly realized tonight that he was a fan of eye contact and verbal answers.

“Come on. Let’s take a shower first.” He gently took your hands in his, kissing your forehead and leading the way into the shower.

The hot water soon hit both your hair and skin as well as Daichis and made you relax. Without realizing you had held a breath that you now finally let out.

For a good while neither of you said anything, just standing next to each other, enjoying the hot water.

But for some reason the silence made you doubt yourself. Did he not like your performance? Would he send you home after your shower and never talk to you again? Maybe he was like this with all girls and just did what he thought he had to?

You were clearly not the only girl he had slept with recently and it made you… jealous? Insecure? Maybe both.

He probably had a lot of comparisons he was thinking of right now. You for sure weren’t the best he ever had.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your own loud sob. Your eyes widened immediately and your hand went to cover your mouth. You didn’t even realize you were crying.

Daichi didn’t say anything and instead put his hand on the back of your wet hair and pushed your head into his chest, hugging you to him.

His second hand landed on your back, gently brushing it with his fingertips.

-

Later the two of you were lying in bed, your head on his naked chest and his hand in your hair, both trying to get some sleep.

You hadn’t talked since your little breakdown in the shower and even though you knew Daichi was probably doing it out of respect for you and not because he was angry, you still felt bad.

“I’m sorry about crying in the shower. That must’ve been so offensive to you.” you mumbled, tracing shapes with your finger on his stomach.

“Don’t. Don’t do that. I know all of this is new to you, that alone is a valid reason to feel overwhelmed. And then all that stuff with your family has to be rough. I get it, don’t worry. And you’re definitely not the first girl to cry after having slept with me, I can be a lot in bed.”

You looked up at him with a confused expression “What do you mean? I didn’t feel like it was too much.”

“I said a lot, sweetheart, not too much. Besides you didn’t get the full experience. Or did you think a power dynamic like this was the average experience, hm?” He winked at you, chuckling when your face visibly heated up.

“I- I don’t know what’s average, but I was wondering what all those hints were about…” you mumbled.

“You’ll see soon enough. If that’s what you want of course? Maybe you’d prefer someone softer who’d let you lead if you want?” His face tilted a little to the side with a questioning look.

“I don’t think so? I liked it that way. I mean I don’t know anything different, so it’s just- I am-“ you sighed “confused. I feel exhausted and anxious about what’s to come.”

“That’s okay. Don’t feel pressured. I am sorry to have asked you this when I knew you were struggling. Let’s just sleep, okay? The world will look much different tomorrow.”

You simply nodded but didn’t move, still holding your body up on his chest and looking at him. “Daichi?”

He didn’t reply and instead just raised his eyebrows. Your stomach twisted in a funny way but you still didn’t look away from him.

“Kiss me, please.”

Daichi grinned, wrapping his arms around you and turning the two of you over so that you were now lying under him.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Wow. That’s like… such a green flag?? What a man. What happened next? Don’t keep me in the dark here!” Your best friend demandingly snapped her fingers in front of your face.

You cleared your throat. “I left. I-“ you closed your eyes and sighed “I snuck out in the morning while he was still sleeping.”

Your best friends jaw practically hit the floor. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. I- I felt bad, I guess? He was so nice and I am new to all of this. I can’t give him what he gave to me. The communication skills and confidence, I don’t have that.” You rambled, playing with your hands.

“Oh baby.” She pulled you in a tight hug, wrapping her arms around you again. “Look, from what I heard, he is very understanding. So I don’t think you need to worry about that at all. And confidence is something that can be gained. And communication can be learned. It’s not like your parents teached you much when it comes to those things.”

You quickly looked at her, eyes blown wide. “That’s another problem. How do I explain any of this to my parents? They will absolutely abandon me if they hear any of this.”

“Don’t tell them. Y/N, you’re 23, they are not entitled to this information. It’s your life. Your body. Your choice. I know you learned that your opinions and needs don’t matter but that’s so not true! And I think Daichi would be great at teaching you this.”

She silently giggled “Among other things.”

You groaned, letting your head hit her shoulder hard. “I have his number.”

She squeaked. “Even better! I would’ve just asked Sugawara for his number but if you have it already, we can text him now!”

Your face heated up. “He already texted me. I didn’t reply.”

“Rude. Come on, let me see.”

unknown: Hey you, when I woke up this morning you were already gone. Are you okay? Please text me once you see this, I’m a little worried.

saturday, 10:06 a.m

“Girl, you didn’t even safe his number?? And you completely ignored him! Not on my watch. We’re replying now.”

“But-“ “now.” She interrupted you. “How about something along the lines of ‘sorry I had a lot to think about. Would you like to meet up and talk about some things?’ How does that sound?”

“I don’t wanna meet up and talk about some things… he makes me nervous.” This was something you so far hadn’t even admitted to yourself. He made you nervous. What did that mean for you?

“Very cute. But you still have to see him again, babe. If you want this to work that is.”

-

Daichi was just heading out of the police station when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Quickly he looked at him expecting an important call.

What he saw instead surprised him.

Y/N: Hey… I’m so sorry for ignoring you… I had a lot to think about and needed some time, but I’m good now. Would you like to meet up?

thursday, 2:34 p.m

He didn’t expect to hear from you so soon or at all to be honest. But that wasn’t to say he wasn’t glad you answered him. One might even say he was relieved.

Ever since he woke up and you weren’t there anymore he had an anxious feeling in his chest because even though he wasn’t surprised when he couldn’t find you, he still wanted to see you again.

The last time Daichi was in a serious relationship, was a very long time ago and although he was content with being single and having unattached flings, he felt at the age of 30 it was time to settle down.

Of course he would’ve never imagined to meet a random girl at a club who was not only seven years younger than him but also extremely inexperienced. But he couldn’t help it.

You were constantly on his mind and he wanted to show you every thing you were missing out on so badly. Not only sexually but in general.

Due to his dominant character, Daichi was used to being the caregiver and in charge in his previous relationships but with you it was different.

He wanted to protect you, provide for you and make you forget every bad thing that had ever happened to you. He wanted to take you away from your unsafe and toxic environment and show you love. Real unconditional love.

Which was kinda crazy and new to him, considering he only knew you for six days.

Naturally Daichi immediately answered your text once he got in his car.

Daichi: Don’t worry about it. I just got off of work, do you have time right now?

thursday 2:46 p.m

To his surprise you quickly texted him that you could be ready in an hour and you agreed to meeting at your favourite café.

Daichi smiled. You would meet again in an hour and he wasn’t just nervous but also excited to see your nervous composure which you would for sure have. You were cute like that.

-

You brushed down your dress on last time, looking down at your body. You were wearing probably one of the most revealing outfits you had ever worn.

Just two weeks ago you would‘ve gasped at the black dress at it’s low cut neckline, that heavily exposed your cleavage, or the fact that it ended in the middle of your thighs, exposing your legs.

“You had sex with this man, y/n. Wear the damn dress.” Your best friend had said. She also made you shave.

Which was only a little embarrassing to be honest.

“I’m not gonna do it.” you had complained. “If he sees it, I’d seem desperate.” She had only laughed at that. “If he sees it, you had every reason to do it, honey”

She was right with this of course but it still felt weird. If your parents or anyone from church could see you like this, you’d be in big trouble.

“You gonna go inside or just stare at the door?” A hand got placed on your lower back and you immediately jumped.

Your body tensed and all the hair on your body was suddenly standing up.

Just when you wanted to turn around the hand removed itself, brushing your hair off your shoulder. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just me.”

“Daichi!” You shouted, almost too excited. You went to give him a hug, but stopped yourself. How do people greet each other that are romantically involved?!

Daichi raised his eyebrows at your action and chuckled, hugging you to his chest. “How are you feeling?”

This chest vibrated against yours while speaking, making your body tingle from how deep his voice was.

Slowly you broke up the hug by pushing at his chest. Your hands remained on his chest and you thought of how you were touching him there just a few nights ago when the two of you were naked and how much he seemed to enjoy it.

Your eyes widened in shock. What an inappropriate thought. Embarrassed you took a step back, staring at him with blown eyes.

Once you noticed the amused look on his face you quickly looked back down at your feet again. It was almost as if he knew what you thought.

“How are you feeling, y/n?” He asked again, eyebrows raised again, staring at you a little too intense.

“Good, I think. You?” You tilted your head slightly to the side looking at him through blown eyes. Daichi doubted you even noticed the innocent look on your face.

“You think?” He frowned, slowly starting to push you in the direction of the door of the café.

You almost stumbled at the gesture, luckily catching your step in time. “Yes, been a little… in my head?”

“I see. There’s a lot to talk about, hm?”

You simply nodded at that, walking through the door Daichi held open for you. “Thanks.” You muttered.

Daichi bit his lip at that. He just loved how polite you were. So well behaved.

“Where would you like to sit?” You turned around and asked him. Again Daichi bit his lip, this time you noticed of course, staring at them.

Quickly you cleared your throat, shaking your head a little. “Ehm, I like window seats but we can sit wherever you like!”

“A window seat sounds perfect to me. Choose your favourite one, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to protest, you asked him to choose, but you figured Daichi wouldn’t give in anyway so you just opted for your regular seat by the window.

Once you had taken you seat, Daichi pulling back your chair and having you sit first, of course, a waitress came quickly to take your orders.

You chose your favourite caramel latte and a brownie while Daichi unsurprisingly sticked to a simple black coffee and nothing else.

“So… how was work?“ You awkwardly asked, avoiding eye contact. Daichi chuckled and shook his head a little.

“Unadventurous, I got some paperwork done for the most part. What is it you do, exactly? You never told me. I remember you dodging the question several times last Friday.“

Of course you dodged a question like that after all he had said about the religious beliefs of your family. You swallowed thickly and just when you were about to spin some lie for him, the waitress came with your order.

Immediately your shoulder relaxed which Daichi realised, furrowing his brows. Still he politely thanked the woman, his eyes never leaving your shy frame though.

When she was gone and he still looked at you, not saying or doing anything, you felt yourself starting to squirm.

And then the inevitable happened. You began rambling.

“Did you know that in some parts of the world it‘s not allowed to call oat milk, oat milk? Because milk is defined by being drawn from a living animal and therefore-“

Suddenly Daichi grabbed your aggressively gesturing hands, shutting you up right away. “What are you talking about?“ He laughed.

“Sorry“ You muttered embarrassed by your own behaviour.

“Were you trying to make me forget my question?“ He still had a smug smirk plastered over his face.

“No! Yes…“ his smile grew at your nervous breakout, muttering a quiet cute to himself.

“But it wasn‘t on purpose! Sometimes when I feel overwhelmed or just don‘t know what to do I start talking about the most random stuff because I can‘t deal with uncomfortable silence and silence is always uncomfortable.“

“You think so? What about when you were at my place, hm? There was a lot of silence between us, did you feel uncomfortable then?“ His head tilted slightly to the side, mustering you.

You sighed defeatedly. “No, of course not, but that was different.“

“How so?“

You sighed again. No way out of this conversation. At least you made him actually forget about his earlier question. “Because I wasn‘t uncomfortable, I guess? I don‘t know.“

“Sounds very reasonable, sweetheart. I feel proud you are comfortable with me. But you still managed to successfully dodge my question, hm. There‘s no job to be embarrassed about or will you be in trouble when you tell me, because I‘m a policeman?“ He tried to lighten the mood.

You managed to laugh a little, but still looked worried. Daichi feared he hit a nerve and just when he wanted to reassure you that you did in fact not have to tell him anything you don‘t want to, you spilled.

“There‘s no job to be embarrassed about because“ you mindlessly picked apart your brownie like a little kid would “because there is no job at all.“

Daichi only smiled a pitiful smile at that, his thumbs caressing your wrists. “That‘s it?“ He chuckled.

“Baby, you made me think you did something highly illegal or inappropriate. Why are you so embarrassed?“

You frowned, almost angry retreating your hands from his grip. “I‘m not just embarrassed, I am ashamed. I‘m in my twenties and have never worked a single day in my life, Daichi! What does that make me?“

“In your case a young, confused woman. If it‘s so horrible for you, why don‘t you change it?“

You swallowed thickly, now this topic again. You bit your lip, looking away from him and that‘s when he understood.

“Your family doesn‘t allow you to have a job, do they?“ He asked and you slightly shook your head at that. “Poor girl. You really have some issues to resolve, hm?“

You silently took a bite, the fork straying in your mouth for a little so you could subconsciously chew on it.

Daichi watched you for a few seconds before pulling it out of your mouth. You came back to reality and looked back at him with shocked eyes.

Your hand quickly covered your face. “Oh God, sorry! I‘m acting as if my life is terrible or something. Most people would probably be happy to be financed by their family and do whatever they want without working for it.“

“Don‘t apologise, I get it. You want to decide things for yourself and not depend on your parents for everything in your life. You don‘t want to be treated like a child.“ He concluded.

You paused for a second, looking at him through blown eyes. “Yes. Yes! That‘s exactly it. They are trying to make me depend on them, need them until I have a husband I can depend on and stay home and take of our children. I don‘t want that for myself.“

“And that’s fine, sweetheart. You‘re a grown woman, you can do whatever you want. I know that sounds impossible, but it‘s not. I can help you.“ He assured you, taking a sip from his coffee.

You smiled your first real smile for the day. “I think I would like that.“ Your smile dropped “But it‘s not gonna be easy for me… I tend to run away from my problems and ignore them.“

Daichi blew air through his nose, laughing. “I could tell.“

You blushed behind your mug. “‘M sorry.“ You mumbled.

“It‘s okay, I thought this might happen before things even got heated.“ He looked at you, winking. “Don‘t do it again though and don‘t ever ghost me afterwards. I was worried about you.“

“I‘m sorry. I was just so overwhelmed and I didn‘t want to make you feel like it was your fault that I felt this way and I figured it would be best if I handled things on my own.“

“You shouldn’t feel like you have to deal with things on your own. I want to know things, y/n. Talk to me, only then I can understand and help you. The things we did that night can be overwhelming just on their own, especially if done for the first time and with all your stuff on top, I wan‘t to be there for you.“

You put both your hands on your hot, reddened cheeks and simply nodded at his statement.

Daichi raised his brows, urging you to answer. Which you did with a mumbled ‘okay‘. For now he just accepted that.

-

Later when the two of you had finished your drinks and food, it was already getting dark and the shop was about to close.

“Let‘s get out of here, okay?“ Daichi suggested and you nodded.

He stood up before you could, taking your jacket and pulling his hand out for you to take. Of course he paid, too.

You smiled and shook your head a little. Waiting for his change at the register, he heard your laugh, looking back at you with a smirk and raised eyebrows, looking gorgeous in his leather jacket.

You bit your lip, looking back at your phone, where you were texting your best friend about what a gentleman he was being right now.

When he came back, Daichi put his hand on your lower back to lead you out of the café.

“Are you here by bus or is your car parked here somewhere.“ Daichi asked in the parking lot.

You scrunched your nose. It was getting quite cold. “Bus. I don‘t have a driver‘s license.“ You admitted.

Wordlessly Daichi took off his jacket, putting it over yours and said:“Let me guess, your parents said you don‘t need one.“

You nodded and he shook his head. “I‘ll drive you then.“

-

The drive was rather quiet, only the occasional directions given by you interrupted the comfortable silence between the two of you.

For once, you didn’t feel the need to ramble. For once, you enjoyed the silence.

The only thing that got your heart racing, and embarrassingly enough your thighs squeezing, was his hand resting on the inside of your knee every time he had to look back or the car came to a halt.

Of course Daichi noticed you squirming but spared you the embarrassment of saying anything. He couldn’t help but smile to himself tho. Cute.

Once you arrived at your apartment, his hand once again landed on your leg, this time a little higher, squeezing your thigh.

“Meet me again this week, hm? I can’t seem to get enough of you.” He chuckled and started rubbing your leg on the inside with his thumb.

Again you squeezed your legs at that, immediately clearing your throat to distract him from your uncontrolled actions.

“Okay…” you murmured, avoiding eye contact with him.

Daichi chuckled again, slowly removing his hand from your thigh. Without a second thought you grabbed it, looking at him wide eyed.

He just raised his eyebrows at that, smirking a little. But when he didn’t say or do anything except for staring back at you, you all of a sudden felt incredibly nervous, letting go of his hand again.

“Sorry! I don’t know why I did that.”

Without a word, Daichi just smiled and just pulled his seat back, spreading his legs a little.

“Come, sit.” He said, patting his thigh.

Your eyes went even wider. “No, no. The space is-“

“Plenty enough. Sit now.” He said again, this time a little firmer, making it almost sound like an order.

Once you unbuckled your seatbelt, finally did he budge by lending you a hand.

You looked at him, feeling a little helpless but still awkwardly took it and started climbing over the middle console. Daichi watched you with an amused expression.

You clumsily landed on his lap, but only on one of his legs, your core pressing against his thigh. You looked at him with hot cheeks and put your hands on his shoulders to push yourself up again.

When you tried to move and sit on both his legs though, he stopped you with his hands on your waist. “Don’t. Like this is fine.”

Your eyes went even wider, if possible, your hands squeezing his shoulders, still trying to push your weight up. When he carefully, but with force, pulled you down, you could only yelp surprised by his sudden action.

“Are you sure? I know I can be quite hea-“

He interrupted you by putting his hand on your mouth and as if on instinct you grabbed his wrist, with both of your hands.

Diachi took in the sight in front of him with dark eyes, his pants growing incredibly tight. Your eyes were innocently blown, cheeks flushed, thighs squeezed together around his own and hands holding onto him. He had to resist the urge to lower his hand a little and wrap it around your tiny neck.

He groaned at his own, intruding, yet appealing thought. But when he saw the unsure look on your face, he was painfully reminded why he couldn't indulge in such actions with you, at least not yet.

So instead of doing what he so painfully wanted to, Daichi let his hand go through your hair, putting some loose strands behind your ear and giving you an understanding expression,

"Don't finish that sentence, sweetheart, or it will wound my pride." He laughed at your confused look with the little head tilt, you probably never noticed.

But instead of explaining what he meant, he very slowly, very carefully pulled you against him.

Your chest hit his, your arms curled around his neck, having your fingertips play with the hair at the back of his head.

You subconsciously sucked your lower lip between your teeth, biting it.

He car was deadly silent, so was the parking lot and for the moment you forgot that any one of your neighbours could come by and see you like this.

Not that they would care.

Still biting at your lip, you admired the face of the man below you. Sharp jaw, deep brown eyes, a little stubble on his chin, fluffy, short hair.

Your thoughts were disrupted by Daichi’s finger pulling your lip out of your mouth with his thumb, caressing it in the process.

You gasped at that, leaving your mouth open a little, perfect for his thumb to find its way inside.

At first only a little, testing the waters, but when you didn’t resist, Daichi chuckled, this time differently, it was dark and fucking sexy.

It made you whimper and when he pushed his thumb all the way in, you couldn’t help but let out a full on moan.

You can feel your entire face, ears and neck heat up from embarrassment, but you didn’t care anymore, when Daichi, with a hoarse, deep voice orders you to suck.

Without a second thought, you do as you’re told and you wonder if he has you wrapped around his fingers right now, if you would do everything he told you. Probably.

“Good girl. You’re so perfect for me, aren’t you?”

You look at him through hazy eyes when his thumb leaves you with a quiet plop of your mouth.

You can see him swallow thickly, hands wandering down to your ass, squeezing your breasts and hips in the process.

“You tell me if any of it gets too much, okay?” He asks, kneading your ass.

You’re overwhelmed, fisting his shirt but he still has your cunt gushing and clenching.

“Yes. Kiss me, Daichi, please.” You whined, pushing back against his hands.

Your clit rubbed on his rough jeans perfectly from your movement, making you whimper. “Oh~”

“Feels good, hm? Keep moving if you like it, princess.” Daichi kissed your throat as he let his hands wander under the skirt of your dress.

His fingertips felt a thin layer of lace, making him frown. He looked up again your red face.

“Where are your granny panties? I liked those, you know.”

You blew air in your cheeks, letting out an embarrassed squeal. “I just thought maybe you’d like these better?”

He couldn’t help but smile boyishly at your confession. “So you hoped we might have sex today?”

Your eyes grew wide at his bold statement. “No! I- just in case. My friend- oh god this is terrible.”

Your head fell forward, hitting his chest. You could feel it vibrating when Daichi laughed. “I’m just teasing, sweetheart. Wear whatever you feel like wearing.”

You laughed a little at him and for a few seconds you didn’t look up, gathering your courage. “So about that kiss-“

Before you could even finish your sentence, Daichis lips were already on yours, his tongue licking your lower lip, gently nibbling at it.

You sighed, your body relaxing against him, one of your hands burying itself deep in his hair, the other brushing his face while desperately letting him in your mouth.

Daichi’s hands grab your hips and with a little force, he gets you to move again. Your wet cunt rubbing on his leg.

Your breath stuttered at the friction, your eyes squeezing shut.

But you couldn’t stop moving, slowly rutting against Daichi’s leg.

After he realised, you’d move on your own, Daichi slowly started to pull down the straps of your dress, exposing your bra.

It was lacy as well without any cup, exposing your hard nipples. It probably matched your panties and Daichi would love to see it, but the sight of you humping his thigh was much more inviting.

You were pretty much in your own world, barely realizing him removing your bra until he twisted one of your nipples, making you jump and gasp.

Your hips fastened, hands desperately shaking, fisting Daichi‘s shirt and hair.

He was still playing with one of your breasts, while his other hand was slowly moving up your back.

“You okay, princess?” He whispered in your ear, his hand tangling in your hair, slightly pulling your head back to expose your neck.

You moaned at that, quickly nodding your head.

Of course he wouldn’t have that, his hand leaving your chest and touching your neck and chin again. “I asked if you were okay. Answer me properly, sweetheart.”

Your eyes went wide, lips parting slightly to let out a quiet whimper. “I’m okay. Daichi, please. I can’t~ hah.”

Your hips were still moving, slower than before. Daichi raised his brows at you, hands now cradling your face.

“Fuck~” he cursed under his breath. You were literally perfect, with your blown eyes, messy hair framing your face, lips swollen and face read.

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me, come on.” He leaned in really close, his lips brushing yours. “I know you can do it.”

Your face went even redder, heat spreading all the way to your ears and neck. “I can’t~” your breath hitched “I can’t- cum like this.”

You let out an embarrassed whine, trying to hide your face. He didn’t let you though, still gripping your face.

“Hmm. Thank you for telling me, princess. Such a good girl.” He said against your lips, lightly biting your lower lip and pulling it.

Once again you whined, your hands gripping his biceps. Your hips stopped, thighs pressing together around his leg.

“Come on, princess.” Daichi chuckled, tapping your thigh. “Spread your legs for me.”

You bit your lip, slowly swinging your leg over his, now fully sitting in his lap.

Daichi started getting more comfortable in his seat, pulling it all the way back, sliding down a little and man spreading as far as this position allowed.

You looked at him with hot cheeks, legs now equally spread. Everything he did was just so attractive to you.

So of course you couldn’t keep in your high pitched moan when he pulled your lower half towards him and pushed your back against the steering wheel.

Your dress slid up all the way to your stomach like this, leaving only your lacy, wet panties to cover you up.

Daichi looked at you, taking the way you gave yourself to him so willingly in, smirk plastered on his face.

Suddenly his eyes darkened, expression changing to something that almost looked like possessiveness.

“Fuck I love your body, princess. Especially your titts, don’t get me wrong. But they’re for my eyes only, do you understand?”

You just looked at him with a frown, head slightly tilted to the side, not fully understanding what he was trying to say.

Daichi chuckled again, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe you didn’t understand him. He looked you straight in the eyes, intensely mustering you.

Without another word he slowly pulled the straps of your dress up again, his fingertips brushing your arms in the process, making you shiver.

When he was done, his hands gripped your shoulders, massaging them just the tiniest bit before moving down to your hips.

His eyes were still on you when he quietly said “I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

You squirmed at the thought of that, nodding and letting out a breath of what sounded like an “okay”

One of Daichi’s hands went even further down, pulling your panties to the side and sliding his middle finger from your hole up to your clit.

You hissed at that, trying to close your legs. Which of course Daichi didn’t have, his free hand was now gripping your leg, forcing it open a little more.

to be continued…

If you ever wondered what the man of my dreams is like. This is it. I made myself blush with this skandnwnskwnqne

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!

I am also kinda embarrassed how long it took me to write this… part 3 will hopefully not take as long… no promises, though it is already in progress

[zxoaii]

Touch

fem! reader x bodyguard Choso

Summary: After the being sent to attend an event, Y/n and Choso find themselves more caught up with each other.

SMUT

WC: 2k

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

"You look good in a suit." Choso looks at me while I adjust his tie. "You are stunning. No one is going to notice me with you right next to me." He's always so sweet.

"Thank you."

The elevator door rings out and the doors open. Choso offers me his arm. I take it as we walk into the foyer of the ballroom.

"Good evening." The host draws our attention to him. My bag clicks open as I retrieve the invitation. "He's my plus one." Of course, if he knows who I am he'd know that.

Money and Jujutsu Sorcery don't usually meet but somewhere, they did. I wouldn't say my clan is completely good but we are a force to be reckoned with.

My mother is the current head of the clan and because of my apparent lack of cursed energy, I was assigned a bodyguard.

I've had several throughout my life but this one is my favorite. Choso is a gentleman. He's caring and friendly. Not to mention, he is not bad-looking at all.

He isn't even a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He's a half-curse.

We walk into the crowded ballroom together. I love parties. They're a nightmare for him. He wouldn't ever say it out loud though.

Choso instinctively takes his arm away from me and falls two paces behind me. Technically we're supposed to act like he isn't here.

Still, it saddens me to lose his touch.

"Ms. Y/l/n, you look incredible. The last time I saw you, you were only a teenager. It's been so long!" I'm thrown into a conversation before I can tell Choso he should stand with me.

The night starts to drag on with insignificant conversations one after another. Being polite is exhausting. Especially when it's spent being polite to people who can't help but be self-obsessed.

As soon as I get a chance I excuse myself to go get a drink. I take Choso's arm and lead us to the drink table. "Do you want some?"

Choso shakes his head. Oh well. I take a glass of champagne for myself. It's a shame this is all they choose to serve. Still, it's better than nothing.

"How long have we been here?"

"45 minutes."

I want to spit my drink out. Only 45 minutes? It feels like we've been here for hours. I've been talking for hours. It's impossible.

"Seriously?"

Choso nods and scans the room. "Come on, there's not actually anyone here who's going to do anything to me." He gives me an unsure glance. "How long do we have to stay for?" My feet ache already. It's freezing in here. I would rather be anywhere else and I'd rather it just be him and I.

"You're supposed to stay for an hour and a half at least."

"What if I say I'm sick?"

Choso takes my empty glass from me and returns it to the table. "We came all this way just for this." He reminds me.

He looks so good in his suit. If I could have a picture of him dressed up like this I'd keep it in a locket.

"Y/n!" A voice calls out excitedly from behind me.

I really hate parties.

.  .  .

Choso sits in the front seat of the car as we're driven to our hotel. I can't stop admiring him. My cheeks flush when he looks at me through the rearview.

We hold eye contact until I look away.

The driver eventually stops in front of our hotel and opens my door for me. "Thank you." I step out of the car. Warm humid air wraps itself around my bare skin.

Choso follows behind me as I make my way inside. I can't come up with any valid reasons as to why I'd need to go to his room.

The walk through the lobby, then the elevator ride, and finally the walk to my room are all too short. I don't have enough time to think of something.

I stop at my door to give myself a second to think.

"Are you ok?"

My hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment before falling to my side. "Choso, you should come in with me."

I turn to look at him after I ask. "What?" This is the first time I've seen him so caught off guard. Maybe that's because he usually stands behind me.

"I want you to come in with me."

"We have our own rooms." Despite his now hardened reaction, his cheeks are red with blush. "Ok." I stop pushing and unlock my door.

"Goodni-"

Choso's hand lands on the door to stop it from shutting. He looks down at me from his place in the doorway. I step out of his way and he walks into the room. The door shuts behind him, leaving us in darkness. Some of the city lights illuminate parts of the room.

Just enough so I can see him.

My heart beats heavily in my chest as I reach out to touch him. Choso steps closer to me and allows me to start undoing his tie.

It falls to the floor but my hands remain on his chest. I have to stand on my toes to reach his lips. Choso leans in and meets me in a kiss.

My hands grip his shirt in fistfuls. Our kiss becomes increasingly desperate. My back meets the wall with a thud. One of his hands lands on the wall next to my head. The other finds its way onto my back.

Choso follows my spine with his fingers. He reaches the nape of my neck and takes the zipper of my dress. The straps fall from my shoulders as the zipper is drawn lower and lower.

When the entire thing is unzipped I let it pool around my ankles. Choso lifts me and carries me across the room. He handles me so gently. I'm laid carefully onto the bed.

My heels are slipped off my feet and then tossed across the room. Choso's lips start at my ankles and trail upwards. Each kiss leaves me more and more entranced by his touch.

As his lips meet my thighs he starts to linger longer. My fingers reach out and grab his hair. He continues up to my hips and for a moment I think he might keep going until our lips meet again.

Instead, he hooks my underwear with his fingers and gives himself more access to me. His touch runs hot across my skin as he pulls my underwear down completely.

"Is this ok?"

"You don't have to ask."

My hands encourage his movements. Choso's lips meet my core in a heated kiss. The kiss feels starved like he needs me to live. He shifts my left leg over his shoulder to give himself better access.

"Oh my god..." I sit up, resting on my elbows to look at him. Choso is still completely dressed. Despite how good-looking he is in his suit, I want it off.

"Take your shirt off."

Choso doesn't falter or stop. Instead, he works his jacket off and lets it fall to the floor. He starts working on the buttons down his shirt until he can take that off too.

His back is painted with scars that remind me of where he came from. My eyes are drawn down by his. Choso watches me through lustful hooded eyes.

His tongue presses against my clit causing my legs to bend instinctively. The dim lights from the window draw harsh shadows across his body.

Choso's hair is a mess from my hands. It falls into his face and tickles the inside of my thighs. Still, he deepens his movements.

The graze of his teeth against sensitive flesh causes a gasp. My hips grind against his mouth as he presses his tongue flat against me. Choso lets out a deep moan that vibrates through my body.

Pleasure starts to build up within me overwhelmingly quickly. "Don't stop." My pleas are answered by Choso's quickened kissing.

He moans once more. My eyes fall lower, following his arm. Choso masturbates as he eats me out. "Shit." The sigh drags on with my orgasm.

Choso doesn't stop until I fall back onto the bed. He pulls away breathlessly and fully removed his pants. His toned chest is also littered with scars that only continue to turn me on.

"Can you continue?" He licks his lips and runs his hand along my thigh. "Yes." Choso nods and reaches up to remove my bra. "You're fucking beautiful." His hands run along my body as if to memorize the feeling.

I shift to the edge of the bed, sitting on my knees so I can kiss him. This kiss is soft. Choso's hand carefully holds my chin. I follow him blindly as he sits down on the bed.

We pull away for a moment. Gentle hands guide me onto his lap. Choso holds my back as I fit him inside of me. The pain turns to pleasure within a minute.

Our eyes stay locked as I roll my hips. My nails dig into his back as I move against him. "Y/n." My name comes out as a plead more than a statement.

My desperate movements become quicker at his unsaid request. Choso peppers kisses along my neck and shoulders. He finds a spot and begins to suck on it to leave a mark.

I tilt my head to the side to give him more access. "Ah- Choso!" He bites down on my neck. I don't know if he drew blood or not but his tongue traces the bite mark several times before he moves on.

Choso's hands grip my ass. He guides me vertically in addition to my horizontal movements. Our moans grow louder together as I follow his movement.

"You're so fucking perfect." Choso catches my lips after his comment, only for a moment. He watches me with such loving eyes my heart flutters in my chest.

Has he always looked at me like this?

The buildup of my second orgasm comes along with his. His grip on me tightens, I feel the twitch of his cock inside me, and his head falls forward onto my shoulder.

Choso mumbles words I can't hear over the sound of my own moans. My orgasm washes over me so intensely that my legs twitch at his side.

We hold each other for a minute before I shift off of his lap to lie down. Choso collapses down next to me. My hand finds his, intertwining our fingers.

"You're... Unbelievable."

The smile on my face feels like it might never go away again. "Do you like me, Choso?" I look over at him from my spot.

"Like you? Of course I like you." He meets my eyes for a moment before shyly looking away. "Do you have deeper feelings for me?"

If the lighting was better I think I'd be able to see that bright red blush all across his face. "I do." His eyes search the ceiling for anything to look at other than me.

"I have deeper feelings for you too." I sit up so he can't avoid looking at me. "You do?" I brush his sweaty hair from his face. "Of course." Choso doesn't return my happy grin.

Instead, he sits up and meets my lips in another passionate kiss. My arms lock around his shoulders to hold him closer. I'd stay like this forever if I had the choice.

Choso pauses for a moment then pulls away. He rubs my thigh as his eyes trail along my neck. He stops at the spot I assume he had bitten. My fingers feel across the skin for a moment before finding the mark.

"I'm sorry. You just tasted so good."

"Don't talk."

I lean back in and happily take another kiss from him. The bite mark will be hard to hide, especially since nothing I packed covers my neck.

Still, if he wanted to bite me again he could.

We could do this all over again as many times as he wants.

[aurulia]

you stood just outside the restaurant, already feeling the familiar tension building in your chest. matt’s hand was warm against your lower back as he gently guided you toward the entrance. tonight was a big deal. not just any dinner, but the first time you were meeting his brothers, Chris and Nick. you had heard so much about them, seen countless videos, but being face to face with them felt like a whole new level.

you tugged at the sleeves of your oversized sweater, fidgeting with the fabric as nerves bubbled up. the sweater, one of matt’s favourites, hung loosely on you, the sleeves long enough that your hands were barely visible, swallowed by the fabric. you played with the edges, your fingers curling inside the soft material, a nervous habit Matt had noticed long ago.

matt glanced down at you, instantly picking up on the way your fingers twisted the sleeves, the way you kept your head down a little more than usual. he stopped just before you both reached the door, turning to face you fully.

“hey,” he said softly, reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly along your skin. “you don’t have to be nervous. It’s just my brothers. I promise they’re gonna love you.”

you nodded, but the slight tremble in your fingers gave you away. “I know. I just… it’s a lot, meeting them for the first time. I don’t want to mess it up.”

matt’s lips quirked into a smile, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “sweetheart, you couldn’t mess it up if you tried,” he said. “and you look adorable in my sweater, by the way.”

you felt a soft warmth rise to your cheeks as you ducked your head, smiling to yourself. the sleeves of his sweater hung over your hands, hiding them completely. “I’m not even sure they’ll be able to see me under all this fabric,” you joked.

matt chuckled, tugging you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “they’ll see you, and they’ll love you. and if it gets too much, just squeeze my hand. I’ll know.”

you nodded again, feeling a little lighter with him by your side. he pushed open the door, leading you into the restaurant.

when you reached the table, chris and nick were already seated, chatting with each other. chris spotted you two first. “finally! we were starting to think you guys bailed.”

matt just laughed, pulling out a chair for you before sitting down next to you. his hand slid over yours under the table, his fingers wrapping gently around your still fidgeting ones. you peeked at his brothers from behind the safety of your sweater sleeve, feeling a bit awkward.

nick smiled at you, “it’s so nice to finally meet you,”

you smiled sweetly, your fingers slightly letting go of the sleeve of your sweater. “nice to meet you, too.”

chris, being a bit more direct, leaned forward with a grin. “matt never shuts up about you, by the way.”

you giggled, turning your head to matt “is that so?” matt nudged Chris with a glare before turning to you. “alright fine, maybe i do talk about you alot, but can you blame me?”

you bit your lip, smiling “ill take that as a compliment.”

matts thumb brushed over the back of your hand in a slow, soothing motion. he leaned in, his voice low so only you could hear. “you’re doing great, sweetheart.”

you gave him a small smile, leaning into the warmth of his arm next to you. matt kept a comforting presence beside you the entire time, making sure you were okay with just a squeeze of your hand every now and then.

when the food arrived, matt, true to his word, ordered for you, noticing the way you hesitated when the waiter came around. “she’ll have the same as me,” he said casually, not drawing any attention to it.

by the end of the night, as you were getting ready to leave, Chris leaned over with a grin. “You survived your first sturniolo dinner. not bad.”

nick nodded. “yeah, you’re stuck with us now.”

you smiled, feeling more at ease than you had when you first walked in. matt, noticing how much more relaxed you were, pulled you into a quick hug, kissing the top of your head. “told you they’d love you,” he murmured against your hair.

“mhm,” you hummed softly, resting your head on his chest, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the sweater.