#her body as a Shield she can put in front of her friends and a Weapon she can wield to defend them - regardless of the damage

[brittlebutch]

brennan trend of characters who view their bodies not necessarily as themselves but as a Tool they can use to earn favor from / a place with other people (often as an Apology for who they are) has me thinking about Zelda's Ending of All Things vision again

[alt-vera]

— don’t take the girl ⁀➷

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when faced with a life-threatening choice, joel miller makes a surprising confession.

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☆ | joel miller | 1.5k | ❛ don’t take the girl - tim mcgraw ❜

warnings: fluff. slight angst. lowkey soft!joel miller. murder. kissing. age gap.

❝ take the very breath you gave me, take the heart from my chest. i’ll gladly take her place if you’ll let me, make this my last request. take me out of this world, god please, don’t take the girl ❞

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HE DIDN’T MEAN TO BECOME SO ATTACHED.

　Joel could remember the very first minute he met you. The shade of the alleyway casting a low tone over your soft features, a small scrape on your cheek just below your eye.

　Tess had taken you in, explaining that you were the daughter of an old friend from way before all the chaos and destruction. That she remembered meeting you when you were just a baby, barely cooing out words with small chubby fingers that wrapped around her own. That you’d lost your mom a while ago, and had no one else. That you’d been on a mission to find Tess for a long time.

　He didn’t like you at first. Thought you were too soft. It annoyed him how persistent you were, always hovering around him and Tess. Always there. He didn’t like how young you were, and he was convinced that you’d somehow fuck up one of their deals if you were there, or that you’d somehow get killed in the process. Or worse, get him killed.

　It wasn’t until he saw you in action that he gave in a bit. Saw how you’d really survived all those years on your own. Saw how you ripped yourself free from a raider on one of their trips out of the QZ, how you’d so effortlessly pulled your knife across the taut skin of the raiders throat, blood splattering onto the soft apples of your cheeks as you watched the man fall, no emotion crossing those deep eyes of yours that always seemed so expressive. They were blank in that moment, as if you had watched a man’s life leave his body a million times. As if you were used to it.

　He couldn’t believe how you’d smiled at him so softly that same night while a fire flickered between the two of you, mere hours after the whole scene. How could you still be so sweet after killing a man as if it were plain sailing?

　He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to a darker place. How many people had you killed?

　He didn’t like to think about such a kind young woman slashing a man as if he were a bug she were squishing.

　After that, he began letting you come on runs with him.

　It was supposed to be a routine mission in the city, grabbing supplies and trades at a drop point to smuggle back into the QZ. Neither of you were expecting a struggle, not to mention an ambush, but in the world you lived in the unexpected always seemed to happen.

　Inside the drop point, which was an abandoned warehouse, rotting and dilapidated, you’d let your guard down. Your gun was placed on an old crate as you poked around while Joel, only a few feet away from you, checked to make sure everything that had been promised was delivered.

　You didn’t see the man coming up behind you, didn’t hear his uneven breaths or the crunching of old glass beneath his feet.

　He grabbed your arm, nearly tearing your shoulder out of it’s socket as he pulled you like a shield across his chest. The cold barrel of his pistol pressed against your temple, his grip like iron, bruising your supple skin.

　Joel heard the struggle and whipped around instantly, eyes wild and frantic as he held his gun out in front of him, not sure where to aim that wouldn’t get you shot in the crossfire.

　“Put your gun down!” The man behind you screamed, his voice so loud that your ear drums rang. You watched everything in slow-motion as Joel carefully put his rifle down, raising his hands as he did so. A stray bead of perspiration ran down your spine.

　“Just let her go, n’we can talk,” Joel attempted to reason, but was met with silence broken by the mans ragged breaths as he pressed the gun further into your temple, the metal creating a building pressure in your head, leaving an imprint in its wake.

　“There’s no talking here,” The man spat, “Someone ripped me off. I don’t know who it was, but somebody here is paying for it. It’s either you or the girl, old man. You choose.”

　Your pulse quickened as your eyes trained on Joel, who’s face wrinkled as he tried to figure out some sort of solution. You tried to speak with your eyes, tried to tell him that it was okay. That he could get out of here and take the stuff back to the QZ, and leave you to your fate. You were fine with it.

　But Joel wasn’t. “I’ll take her place, if you’ll let me,” He said quietly, his words slicing through you. “Just please, don’t take the girl.”

　You wanted to scream at him, but you stayed quiet, lips locked shut and body shaking with fear and adrenaline.

　You heard the gunshot, and your eyes closed on impact. You only inched them open when you felt the pressure on your head leave, and heard the sound of a body hit the floor. When your eyelids lifted, there stood Joel, small handgun that was presumably in his back pocket resting with it’s aim towards the floor, his hands shaking.

　You slowly looked to the ground beside you, and there laid your assailant, blooding and bits of brain pooling on the concrete around him with a fresh hole in his forehead. The gun that had been so dangerous in his hands only moments ago now laid slackly in his limp palm.

　“Goddamn it!” You could faintly hear Joel yell, his words falling on deaf ears. “See this—This is what i was worried about.”

　Joel was in front of you in an instant, rough hands cupping your cheeks as he examined you for any sort of injury, eyes lingering on the crisp indent from the barrel that stayed on your temple.

　“I thought i’d lose you,” He breathed out softly, anger leaving the bones of his body, hot air fanning your face as he fought to calm down his anxiety. He pulled you into him, surprising you as he wrapped his arms around you in a bone-crushing hug.

　Your voice was muffled against the flannel of his shirt. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

　“I’d have traded places with you in an instant.” His words were heavy against the shell of you ear, and you pulled away from his grasp, eyes studying him carefully. There was no denying the terror that still lingered in the dark hue of his iris’, and how deep his worry lines were creased as he frowned down at you.

　“You’re around so much that I—I can’t imagine what it’d be like if you weren’t,” He continued, “Don’t want to.”

　“I would’ve given him everything i had,” He carried on, “Would’ve given him the damn heart out of my chest if it meant he’d take my life instead’a yours.”

　You figured this was Joel’s messed up version of a confession. So, without words, you kissed him, and he deepened it with long buried affection and protectiveness. Two things you didn’t think Joel Miller was capable of.

　“Let’s get out’f here,” He said after he had pulled away. His words brought you back into the atmosphere, struggling to tame your wildly beating heart as you remembered the dangerous predicament you could potentially still be in. “Don’t know if it was just him, or if there’s more.”

　You nodded, taking one of the duffle bags of supplies onto your shoulders. It made you lean to the side slightly from the weight, and a rare chuckle escaped Joel’s lips. He took the bag from your shoulder, putting both onto one arm and slinging his rifle onto the other.

　“I got it,” He said, “Jus’ watch my six.”

　During the trip back to the QZ, it seemed as if nothing had changed between the two of you. But it did. There was a newfound tension in the air, one that spoke of the kiss you shared in the warehouse, and how Joel would lay his life on the line for you. It sparked with the electricity of intimacy and a fucked up version of love.

　It was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that neither of you would tell Tess about what had happened. About the ambush, or the kiss. But you and Joel would know. You and Joel would know that there was now some sort of feelings between the two of you. A new connection that would be acted upon on late nights and moments alone together. The kind that was shared within knowing looks and small grins to one another. Fleeting touches when no one’s watching, and memorized whispered pleas of trading your life for his.

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p2. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you never thought the day would come where you would have to choose between your two best friends. but how do you say goodbye to someone who became one of your reasons for living? ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warning: angst with tons of pining and heartbreak, sfw, heavy s2 spoilers, pet names, cursing, mentions of death ➼ wc: 3.1k words ➼ a/n: here's the anticipated part two of this fic! can definitely read this part on its own as a standalone, but highly recommend reading part one for the full angst effect ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

You didn’t know how you got here. 

One minute you were on a mission. The next minute you were a fugitive on the run.

When Suguru and you left for the village, you didn’t expect to be standing in front of a caged cell that held two little girls. They were twins and looked to be no more than the age of five. Crouching down to match their eye level, you saw just how disheveled and scared they were between the bars. Clothes tattered, skin covered in dirt, eyes wide with fear. How cruel.

“Hello. I’m (y/n). That’s my friend Suguru,” you introduced softly, not wanting to spook them. Suguru nodded at them in greeting with a smile. “What are your names?”

“Nanako,” the light brown haired twin answered in a near whisper.

“Mimiko,” her black haired twin counterpart responded after.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you smiled, leaning closer to them to whisper so that only they could hear. “Let’s get you out of here quickly, yeah?”

The girls looked back at you with surprise before a small smile appeared on their faces, nodding. You and Suguru were the first people to show them any form of kindness in this village. Unfortunately, their happiness was short-lived.

“These two are crazy! They used their mysterious powers to attack the villagers, right?” a male villager accused them both.

Furrowing your brows, you exchange glances with Suguru who shared the same sentiments as you. You both had already exterminated the cause of those incidents when you arrived.

“No, it’s not them,” Suguru exhaled, a hand on his head as he massaged his temple in disdain.

Ignoring his words, an older woman added more fuel to the fire, “My granddaughter was nearly killed by these two, too!” 

Nanako defended, “That’s because she-”

“Shut up, you monsters! I knew we should have killed you two as babies!”

“Watch your mouth,” you snapped, maneuvering your body to shield the twins from the vile woman. The girls immediately sought refuge behind you.

You couldn’t believe the words coming from them openly talking about killing the girls when they were sitting right there. You felt so sorry for the two. Based on what the villagers were saying, these poor children most likely hadn’t received an ounce of love in their lives. Instead they were treated like animals.

It was just like you to put yourself in harm's way to protect others with no hesitation. It was one of the reasons that made Suguru fall in love with you. It didn’t come as a surprise to him to see Nanako and Mimiko already taking a liking to you. 

Looking at the three of you, something in Suguru snapped. Lowering beside you, he offered you a gentle smile.

“Do me a favor. Once I step out, let the girls out and cover their ears. Stay here. I’ll come back for you three when I’m done,” he instructed.

“What? Why?” you asked in confusion. “Sugu… What are you about to do?”

He ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll be right back. Now be a good girl for me.”

You looked at him wearily. There was something different about him right now that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You also didn’t like how vague he was being. Still, you hesitantly agreed. Satisfied, Suguru stood up to face the villagers in the room.

“Everyone, shall we step outside for a moment?” he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile gracing his face. 

You were prepared for when you successfully freed the girls from their confines with Mimiko and Nanako instantly falling into your awaiting arms. Instructing them to cover their ears, you held them close and placed your hands behind their heads, letting them rest their faces against your chest.

“It’s okay, I got you. You’re safe now,” you promised them. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

What you weren’t prepared for was the fiery blue flames that illuminated the village and the screams that ensued after.

A few days later, it was a beautiful day in Shinjuku. People were going on about their business as they maneuvered among the busy streets. The air was full of chatter with the hustle and bustle of city life. 

“I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are false?” Shoko inquires with a smile.

Suguru shakes his head at the female sorcerer, “Nope. Unfortunately not.”

Shoko takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing white whips of smoke that dissipate into the air. “You know what, I can expect you to be able to pull off this kind of thing. But did you really have to drag (y/n) with you too? Where is she anyway?”

Suguru fights the urge to grin at the mention of your name. Crossing his arms, he peers up at the clouds drifting across the azure sky. “She’s-”

“-right here.”

The two turned their heads at the sound of your voice as you approached them, a bag full of pastries in tow. You waved shyly at Shoko who was relieved to see you unharmed. You were one of the few female friends that she had at school. It came as a big surprise to her when she heard the news of your shared sentence with Suguru. It didn’t seem like you to commit mass murder. Then again, neither did Geto.

“There’s Ms. Partner-in-crime. I was just about to ask Geto why this little situation came to be,” Shoko filled you in.

You shift awkwardly in place, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing your discomfort, Suguru swiftly answers back, “I’m going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. (y/n) here is the lucky girl who gets to help me.”

“Is that so?” the brunette laughs. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re not children. I’m not holding out hope that everyone will understand,” Suguru responds. He glances over at you as you stare into the crowd and zone out of the conversation. As long as you were beside him, he didn’t care if no one else understood. At least he had you.

Shoko whipped out her cell and promptly entered a series of numbers before placing it to her ear. “Hey, Gojo? I found Geto and (y/n). Yeah, Shinjuku.”

Hearing Satoru’s name, your body immediately went into flight mode. Breath quickening, heartbeat accelerating, and anxiety swirling in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. You knew it was inevitable to see him when Suguru suggested going to Shinjuku for the day under the guise of buying treats for Nanako and Mimiko. But you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. What could you possibly even say to him after what happened?

Before your thoughts could spiral even more, you felt a warm hand slip into your left and the pastry bag removed from your right. Looking up, Suguru didn’t make eye contact with you, only squeezing your hand in reassurance. He always had a sixth sense for how you were feeling.

“Excuse us but we have somewhere to be. Goodbye, Shoko,” Suguru waves at her nonchalantly as if it were any other ordinary day and like he’d see her in class tomorrow.

She waves back and turns to make eye contact with you, an unreadable expression on her face. Before you could analyze it, Suguru gently tugs on your hand and leads you away with him and into the bustling crowd of Shinjuku. The two of you walked for a few minutes in silence before a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Explain yourselves.”

Stopping in your tracks, you felt a lump form in your throat. Your nails dug into Suguru’s hand, leaving red crescents upon his pale skin. Suguru tried not to flinch at the pain. He knew that this moment would be hard for you.

After receiving Shoko’s call, Satoru wasted no time and immediately teleported to Shinjuku in search of his two best friends. All he can think of is, why?  Why would you both do this? It didn’t make any sense. He needed answers and he wasn’t stopping until he got them. 

Among the sea of people, his eyes searched and searched until it finally landed on one of his targets. He didn’t need to see your face to know that it was you. After all, he had engrained every detail of you into his mind from the way you looked to the way you moved. Your name lingered on his lips, longing to call for you.

“You already heard from Shoko, right?” Suguru answered him back without turning around. “That’s all there is to it.”

Unhappy with his response, Satoru felt his blood begin to boil in anger. “So you’re just going to kill everyone that isn’t a sorcerer? Even your parents?”

Maybe it was the way your heartbeat was beating so loudly in your ears, but you could barely hear what the two men were saying despite being right there. You knew they were exchanging words but your mind refused to process them. Instead it focused on the way Satoru’s voice was plagued in confusion and betrayal. You and Suguru, his two closest friends, had betrayed him without a word.

“You’re going to kill all non-sorcerers and create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers? You know that’s impossible!” you heard Satoru bellow from behind you. 

“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru?” the black haired sorcerer retorted back, now facing the enraged male. “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or does being the strongest make you Gojo Satoru?”

You felt a chill go down your spine from Suguru’s cold tone so different from the honey one he always used towards you. Was this the Suguru you’ve known until now? But then you remembered everything Suguru had gone through up until this point. Swallowing disgusting curse after curse with nothing to show for it for himself. Watching his friends and comrades die in front of him. You understood the shift in Suguru’s beliefs. 

That being said, you also understood where Satoru was coming from. You knew deep down that this wasn’t right. Innocent lives were taken to create a world that may not even be possible. However, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. You were in too deep and if this was the hill you’ll die on, so be it. 

Frustrated with the conversation with Suguru, Satoru knew there was no changing that man’s mind. Suguru had zero regrets and had every intention of carrying out his new life goal. Shifting his focus to you, Satoru felt the anger clouding his vision slowly diminish, a sense of yearning overwhelming his senses.

His voice dropped to a low cry as he called out to you, “(y/n)...”

The moment your name left his lips, a wave of guilt settled into the pit of your stomach. You wish he hadn’t done that. In a perfect world, you would have turned around and ran into those strong arms that have held and protected you more times than you can count. You felt your resolve chipping away piece by piece.

But this world was far from perfect. You can never go back to the way things were. Still, you owed it to Satoru to properly say goodbye because you weren’t sure when you’ll ever see him again. 

You took a deep breath and stepped to turn around. Halfway through your turn, you felt Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, looking at you in confusion and slight alarm. Were you changing your mind and leaving him? However, his tense shoulders eased when you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, communicating with your eyes that you weren’t going anywhere. Nodding his head, he let go of you.

What the fuck? Satoru thought to himself.

Watching the scene unfold between you two, he felt an insecure stinging pierce in his chest. His six eyes bored holes at your interlocked hands. An unsettling feeling gnawed at him at the fond look in Suguru’s eyes which stared directly into your own. It was the same way Satoru looked at you. 

Fuck. His best friend, Geto Suguru, was also madly in love with you.

“Satoru.”

Satoru could almost cry hearing you call his name. You took a few steps towards him, maintaining eye contact as you did so. He also took a step towards you but immediately halted when you raised your hand up to stop him from getting any closer. Standing a few feet from each other now in silence, you felt your heart break at the sight of your once confident best friend who now looked so small in your presence.

“...Why?” he asked, the tension growing thick in the air.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you replied, “You don’t understand-”

“Then, make me understand!” Satoru shouted.

Storming directly to you, he stopped so that he stood inches away from your figure. One more step and he could pull you to him and away from whatever this was. It would be so easy. He stood before you with his infinity off, silently granting you the opportunity to reach out for him. He never had it on whenever he was with you. He trusted you to let his guard down because you made him feel safe.

Satoru continued to interrogate you as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.  “(y/n), I know you. I know you didn’t lift a finger to kill any of those people. You would never take the life of another if they didn’t deserve it. So, why are you doing this?”

“I can talk to the elders. I can convince them to reverse your sentence because you didn’t do anything. They’ll listen to me,” he begged you, voice quickening with every line. 

“Is it because I’m away all the time? I’ll stop taking on more missions or have them assign you with me. Just come home.”

He was beginning to ramble now as he felt himself grow more desperate to keep you. Satoru was never the type to get down on his knees for anyone except you. 

Throughout the years, he fell for you hard. You had the power to render him weak with just your smile, the air leaving his lungs at the way you took his breath away. Your calming presence grounded him and brought him back to reality whenever things became too intense. It was the way you understood his thoughts and feelings before he even knew of them. You held his heart in the palm of your hands and right now you were completely destroying him.

Against your better judgment, you caressed the left side of Satoru’s face. The man immediately leaned into your hand as he melted at your touch, placing his hand over yours and seeking your affection. Brilliant blue eyes filled with anguish met your sorrowful ones. 

“Toru,” you smiled bittersweetly at him. “I can’t. The moment I go back, they’d kill me in a heartbeat. It’s too late for me. At least this way I’ll be protecting you.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around. I’m the one that’s supposed to be protecting you,” he argued back. “Sweets, this is insanity. You can’t possibly be okay with this. Do you honestly agree with him and this crazy non-sorcerer world bullshit?”

You let your hand fall from his face, watching him grimace from the action. “It doesn’t matter what I think. What’s done is done. I made a promise to Suguru that I’d be there for him.”

Satoru scowled, “And what about me, (y/n)? Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?”

That wasn’t fair. How do you explain to him that you were doing what you thought was best? As the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, Satoru will always have a community rallying behind him. Suguru had no one. You didn’t want Suguru to live a lonely life alone. You cared too much about him. Hence, you promised to be that one person he needed.

Satoru felt like ripping his hair out in agony. He could feel it. He could feel him losing you. Any traces of anger slipped out of his body. He looked at you desperately, looking crestfallen and utterly wrecked as he felt hot tears burn in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he begged, voice almost cracking in the process. “I’m already losing one best friend. I can’t lose you too.”

Closing your eyes to stop your own tears from falling, you could only whisper an apology back, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru didn’t need your apology. He knew that you could apologize a million times and in the end, he’d still forgive you even if you were tearing him apart. He also knew that you were extremely stubborn and even more loyal. You had made up your mind and this was you saying goodbye. His fists went rigid causing his knuckles to turn white from the intensity of his grip.

“So, this is it? This is the life you’re choosing?” he let out an empty laugh, the smile leaving his face once his gaze met Suguru’s who awaited behind you. “You’re choosing him?”

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his tall figure down to you into a tight embrace. Arms wrapping around you, he held you even tighter against him as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did. Breathing in your scent, he felt goosebumps rise on his skin when your lips brushed to whisper against his ear.

“This is me choosing you.”

Ripping yourself away from the snowy haired man, he stood stunned at your declaration and could only watch as you made your way back to Suguru’s side. The said male extended his hand back at you once more, pouting as you shook your head no. Vision blurring with tears, you walked past him and continued walking down the street to get as far away as possible, willing your broken heart not to look back.

Suguru could only sigh deeply. You just needed more time. Whenever you were ready, he’d be there every step of the way with open arms, forever set to love and protect you. Looking back at Satoru, he shot the distraught male a smirk and threw up a peace sign. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, he trailed after you before you could get too far. 

In a moment of panic, Satoru raised his hands to prepare an attack towards the raven haired male. After a mental struggle, he ultimately dropped his hands to his side, fists clenching hard. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have it in him to harm his best friend or else he’d risk harming you as well.

Satoru watched your figures disappear deeper into the crowd for perhaps the last time he’ll ever see you.

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[softestqueeen]

slipping and gliding pt. 1

pairing: natasha romanoff x afab!reader

summary: When the Avengers spend a day at the local water park, you start to see a certain redhead in a different light. You’ve never had anything with a woman before, but Natasha doesn’t mind showing you what feels good.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! semi-public sex, fingering, shower sex, inexperienced reader, shy reader, kissing, pet names (sweetheart)

wordcount: 2053 words

a/n: Yess, finally I’m writing something that’s wlw! I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time, and this is the perfect scenario. Enjoy <3

After a few incredibly stressful weeks, filled with mission after mission, Tony Stark decided that the Avengers needed a little break. So, he did what was every teenagers wet dream. (pun intended)

He rented out a whole water park.

Jup. The whole thing, just for the lot of you.

But you didn’t mind it. You could lounge around, eat for free at the buffet, and when laying in the sun got too hot you could go for a swim or try out the huge slide, which was the highlight of the park.

You, the other girls of the team, and also a few of the other SHIELD agents, like Maria Hill were lounging around, when you suddenly had the urge to go down that huge slide. It just looked like so much fun and you definitely needed an adrenaline rush that was not induced by the possibility of getting killed.

You got up, announced to the group that you would check out the slide and off you were. After a few meters you noticed someone joining you.

When you looked to the side you saw your colleague and good friend Natasha Romanoff falling into step with you.

“You can only use the slide with someone else. There are only swimming rings for two. But I’ll gladly go with you.”, after that the redhead sent you a wink and a smile. Only a small whispered ‘thank you’ left your lips before you looked ahead of you again and got lost in your thoughts.

Did she always look this good? This was the first time you noticed how smooth her hair falls over her shoulder or how beautiful the head looks that sits on that pretty neck. Her skin was flawless, and she looked like she just stepped out of a magazine. You could see why she was called the most beautiful Avenger.

Did you feel attracted to Natasha? No, that’s impossible. You’ve never felt something for another woman, nor had something with one and you and Nat were only friends! Why did she suddenly make you feel this way?

It seemed like it was only getting warmer and warmer and you were glad that you were about to go on that slide and get into the icy water.

The two of you were silent on the way up, the stairs seeming to stretch into eternity. But before you could overthink your feelings even more, the two of you arrived at the top and the instructor showed you how to sit down on the swimming ring.

Nat sat down into the first opening, and you sat down in front of her. You both laid down flat and you laid onto her, your head between her boobs and your lower back touched her most intimate parts.

Being this close to her made you feel some kind of way. You didn’t have too much time to think about it though, because in the next moment you were sliding down, and all other thoughts were gone.

You and Nat enjoyed the short but exciting ride, screaming in excitement . You hit the water and felt Natashas body covering yours before she smoothly slid up from you and dived to the surface. You followed after her and when you both resurfaced and made eye contact, you broke out into laughter.

It seemed like everything went back to normal, though you still couldn't get her out of you head and stop your racing mind.

You returned the ring and made you way back to the towels and lounge chairs. Once there you grabbed a towel and a fresh bathing suit.

“I’m going to head to the lockers, I need to put on a dry bathing suit.”, you told Nat before heading to the building where the lockers were. There were also showers and changing rooms inside of it, so all of it was easily accessible.

You entered the building and went to the showers. Putting down your towel and dry change, you were about to take off your bikini when you felt two hands grabbing your waist and turning you around.

You could just make out Nat’s face before she pressed you against the wall and pressed her lips to yours. You let out a surprised gasp before you got lost in her taste, her scent seeming to overwhelm you. She grabbed your waist again and pulled your wet bodies against each other before she grabbed your ass with her free hand. The sudden action made you gasp, and Nat didn’t waste this opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Her hands start to roam your body and you were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

When you both pulled away, Nat whispered against your lips. “I know you want this too, sweetheart.”

You just nodded, not listening to what she was actually saying. You just wanted, no needed, to feel her lips against yours again. You put one of your hands on the back of her neck and the other one went to her waist.

You pulled her in and connected your lips again. Both your and Nat’s hands were now freely roaming and groping each other. You were sure that the wetness you were feeling did not just come from the pool.

You were kissing a little more before you felt Nat’s thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, stimulating your clit and making you moan into her mouth. She kept on moving her thigh and squeezing your hips, holding you in place. It didn’t take long before you felt Nat’s hand roaming again and wandering towards your middle.

You were quick to catch her wrist, stopping her from going any further. She pulled away and looked at you, puzzled, because she thoughts that’s what you wanted.

“I’m sorry Nat. I haven’t done any of this before.”, you told her while looking at the floor, not daring to look into her eyes that you were sure were filled with anger towards you.

But Nat was having none of it and put a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet her understanding and soft gaze.

“You’ve never had sex before? Sweetheart are you a virgin?”, she asked you without a hint of deception in her voice.

“Well, I had sex before, just never with a woman. I guess in that aspect; yea, I’m still a virgin.”, you answered with a sheepish smile and a blush on your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good. Trust me.”, she whispered against your lips before she kissed you again and you believed her every word.

She kept pressing her thigh against you and you slowly started to meet her thrusts and grind down on her, slowly gaining more confidence.

Her hands started roaming your body again, while you were still holding onto her neck and waist. Her hand was slowly wandering towards your core again, but before she touched you, she pulled away.

“Is it okay when I touch you here, sweetheart?”, she asked you.

You just nodded before pressing your lips against hers again.

Her hands travelled towards your wet pussy, going under your bikini bottom. You let out a soft gasp when you felt her hand moving between your folds. She tested out the waters by spreading your wetness around, caressing your folds before making contact with your swollen clit.

Feeling her at your sensitive clit made you moan into her mouth. The kiss wasn’t as heated anymore but slowed down felt more intimate. Her thigh stopped pressing against you now that her hand took over.

She removed her hand and pulled away, making you whine and chase her lips.

“Patience, sweetheart.”, were the only words that left her mouth before she opened the strings on your bikini top.

Her thigh went back to your cunt, stimulating you while she started caress your boobs. She slowly traced them with featherlight touches before she went over to straight up groping you. You let out moans and whimpers at the stimulation you were getting both from her thigh and her hands.

Her hands on you felt incredible and you wished you could feel her on you forever. She leaned forwards and started to trail kissed over your boobs and over your sternum. Your hand moved from her neck into her hair when you felt her lips on one of your perked nipples.

She slightly sucked on it and circled her lips around it, just how you imagined she would do it with your clit. The thought of her mouth on your cunt made a new flood of wetness rush to your core.

She repeated the same treatment on your other breast before she completely pulled away.

“How about we take this to the shower?”, she asked you with a smile on her face.

“That sounds good.”, you answered her, but you were quickly left speechless when you saw Nat taking off her black bathing suit.

She was breathtaking. She was always beautiful but seeing her completely bare was something else. The soft curve of her breasts and hips, her toned stomach and legs that seem to go on forever.

She took your hand in hers to lead you to one of the showers and once she turned around you could see a small tattoo adorning her lower back. That simple fact made her seem even more human and vulnerable, the fact that under that beautiful façade was a human being that had gone through so much.

But once she put on the shower and you felt the droplets of water gliding down your bodies all other thoughts were erased from your mind. All that was left was the sight of Natasha under the stream of water, momentarily closing her eyes to feel the warm water.

You joined her under the spray, pressing your lips against hers. She was quick to press you against the wall again, immediately taking over.

The kiss got more intense, and her hand went to your pussy again. She started to slide between your folds and circled your clit, finding a steady rhythm.

Once you’ve gotten used to the feeling of her hand against you, Nat took it a step further. With her middle finger she entered your tight pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. She slowly started to pump her finger in and out of you, slowly adding a second finger while her thumb was stroking your clit, and her other hand was groping your ass. Your hips were moving against her hand and your wet bodies were pressed together, gliding over each other, the steady stream of the water only made it more sensual.

When she added a third finger you could feel the coil in your stomach starting to tighten. Nat could feel you clench around her fingers and started pumping them faster, also adding to the pressure on your clit.

You came with shout that was muffled by Nat’s mouth, while she was gradually becoming slower, helping you through your orgasm.

Once you calmed down, she pulled her fingers out of you and gently cupped your face. She pecked your lips before pulling you completely under the stream of the shower with her. She left for a moment, getting some shower gel that was provided and started washing you, her hands gliding over your body making you all worked up again. She lathered shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp and making you melt into her hands.

Once she was done, you felt the urge to feel her body again, so you gave her the same treatment; gently washing her body and her hair.

Nat pecked your lips once again, before turning off the shower and getting a towel, drying your body and hair before doing the same with herself. Both of you got dressed in some dry clothing.

But before the two of you left the locker area, Nat turned to you.

“How about we cut this little trip short and continue with what we started, sweetheart?”, she asked you, a breathtaking smile on her lips and no shame about her suggestion.

“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”, you truthfully answered before taking her hand in yours, excited about what she has in store for you, once you were back at the tower.

a/n: i'm thinking about writing a part 2, so please tell me if you's like to see/read one. i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen

part 2

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

[kpop---scenarios]

Reckless (8)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Warnings: Sadness, Violence

Word Count: 2.1k

Taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx @ovulatingrn @jisunglyricist @guiltycoco @fawnpeaks @purple-bell @caught-in-the-afterglow @ana-marais98 @rylea08 @astraystayastayastray @partyparty-yah @skzswife @sillyhal @feellikecinderella @asphalstead @minh0scat @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @hyun-hwanj @zerefdragn33l @stelle-aka-simp @iambangchanswife @seungminsapuppy @chanbahng29 @blackbluerose666 @mmarusa @glitter-z

@gabriellamarie

Previous Chapters

“Y/N.. you have to listen to me.” Jisung panics. “I was only trying to do what was best for you.”

“What was best for me? So me being so depressed I couldn't shower, brush my teeth, or even fucking eat was the best for me?” You scream. “Why do you get to choose who I love and who I want to be with?”

“He's my fucking best friend! I didn't want things to change between us, or me and you. And I knew they would. Not to mention I think there's better guys out there for you.” Jisung says, glancing at Minho.

“Your reasoning for ruining him and me was because you didn't want to lose your best friend? Are you fucking kidding me!? How selfish are you!? I can't.. I can't even look at you right now.” You whisper.

“Why would you tell her? Fuck sakes.” Jisung yells at Minho.

“Are you serious?” Minho gasps. “You told her I said some awful shit and you're mad at me for telling her that you made me choose?”

“It was for her own good! And yours! Neither of you would have been happy with each other!” Jisung screams.

“How do you know!? Huh, how do you know!? I've never felt so fucking safe and content with anyone, except when I was with Y/N. She made me feel like I could do anything..like I could be anything. You have no fucking idea how much better I felt about my shitty life when I was with her. And YOU took that away from me!” Minho screams back. “You ruined me! You ruined her! So fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!” Jisung yells. “What does it matter now anyways, huh? You gonna abandon Maya and your fucking baby to be with my sister now? Huh?” Jisung yells.

You stand there, shock flowing through your body, your mouth hanging down as you stare at Minho with tears in your eyes.

“Fuck.” Minho screams. He lunges for Jisung, tackling him to the ground. You can barely even process what was happening in this very moment. You were too stuck on Maya and baby.

A baby.

He was having a baby?

With someone else..someone he really didn't even like. You watched Minho on top of your brother, getting shot after shot to Jisung's face, and Jisung trying to shield himself. You can't breathe. Your head was spinning. You so wished this fucking moment was a dream. You closed your eyes trying to wake yourself up but it wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? You just wanted to get up from this fucking nightmare.

Jisung manages to get Minho off of him, hitting him wherever he could. You turn around, walking out the front door. You continue to walk and walk until you have no idea where you are. You barely even remembered how you got to where you were. You pull out your phone, calling Chan. You needed someone but not your friends. You needed someone who was going to give it to you straight and not pussy foot around, and that person was absolutely Chan.

“Hellooo?” He answers.

“Can you pick me up?” You whisper. “I'm not terribly sure where I am.” You sigh.

“Give me street names and a number on a building if you can. I'll find you.” He says, hanging up the phone. You slip your phone back into your pocket, finally letting your tears flow. You crouched down, resting your head in your knees as you hugged yourself and sobbed. You felt so betrayed by the two people you trusted more than anyone else in this world, despite all the shit they had put you through.

“Y/N.” Chan whispers. You look up at him, you're sure mascara is smeared across your cheeks. He looks at you sympathetically, holding his hand out. You reach out to grab it, he pulls you up, helping you to his car. He opens your passenger side door, closing it once you're in and heading to the driver's side. The entire car side is silent, aside from your whimpering. You appreciated that he wasn't badgering you for information but instead waiting until you were ready. He pulls into the parking lot of his apartment building. You follow him inside, heading to his couch, where you pull your knees up to your chest and take a few deep breaths.

“So.” You begin. You can feel your lip beginning to tremble again as you try to get the words out. The tears threatened to roll down your cheeks again.

“Take your time.” Chan half smiles.

“Jisung.. he um, he told Minho that he had to choose between me and him.” You whisper. “So he had to make a decision if it was going to be me, or his best friend, his brother.” You say.

“What?” Chan gasps.

“That's not even the worst.” You half laugh. “Remember how I told you those things Jisung told me Minho said about me?” You ask. He nods his head. “Turns out Minho never said them. Jisung made it up to make sure I stayed away from him.” You cry. “And now I find out that Maya is pregnant, and Minho is going to be a dad, and I feel like I have no one and my entire world is fucking falling apart.” You whimper. Your chest gets tight as you try to catch your breath. Chan grabs onto your arm, looking you in the eyes, his face close to yours.

“Breathe, Y/N. Come on, breathe.” He smiles. You take a few deep breaths, maintaining eye contact until you feel like you can breathe again. He smiles at you. You lean in, pressing your lips to his. He doesn't move away, but the kiss.. Is not how a kiss should feel. You both back away, looking at each other a little confused.

“That wasn't..” Chan starts.

“No offense, but it felt like I was kissing a cousin.” You giggle.

“No offense taken, I feel the exact same.” Chan laughs. “I think we're meant to be friends.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” You smile. “Look, I'm sorry about this.” You sigh. “Calling you, all the crying and big dump of issues I just threw at you.”

“Isn't this what friends do?” He smiles. “I'm pretty sure friends are meant to be there for you when you need them.”

“Well I really appreciate it. Any advice on what to do? I don't know if I can go back there.” You say.

“Did you hear back from that psychology scholarship you applied for a few weeks ago?” He asks.

You shake your head. While you were on your healing journey, you had applied for a scholarship at a different University across the country. You had thought it would be nice to get away and go somewhere for a fresh start for a few months at least. You really didn't think you were going to get it.

“Well feel free to stay here tonight, if you want.” He tells you. And that's exactly what you did. You had messaged Jisoo and Hyunjin, letting them know there were some issues and you were turning your phone off.

It was mainly because Minho and Jisung would not stop fucking calling and texting you. You needed time away and would turn it back on in the morning, when you were ready. That night you spent your whole time with Chan, watching movies, eating good food and just talking. You talked about everything and nothing, how you were feeling, your feelings for Minho, which, despite everything, haven't changed. You still loved him, and seeing him after a month of not seeing him had every single thought and feeling you had rushed back to you at full force. But you weren't sure if you could do it with him, not to mention he was going to be a dad. How could you come in between him and the mother of his child? You weren't that type of person.

That night you laid on Chan's couch, your mind racing between everything. You were so fucking conflicted and you honestly just wished you could get away. You turned on your phone, feeling the need to scroll mindlessly through TikTok or something. You had a few texts come through that you ignored, and an email. You checked the email, and sat up on the couch.

“Congratulations Miss L/N Y/N.” You read. “You've been selected for the scholarship in…” You pause. You screamed, as loud as you could, forgetting it was 3am and Chan was sleeping. He rushed into the living room, looking panicked with a baseball bat in his hand.

“What?” He yells. “What happened?”

“I GOT IN!” You cry. “I got the scholarship!”

“Oh my god, Y/N, that's amazing!” He yells, rushing over to hug you. He squeezes you so tightly, like a proud dad. It filled your heart with so much joy. Jisoo and Hyunjin had the same reaction when you told them the next day, but then sadness filled the room.

“I can't believe you're really leaving.” Hyunjin pouts. You take his hand, holding it tightly.

“I'll be back. I promise.” You smile. “It's only for a few months. And it'll be good for me to get away. From everything.”

“I still can't believe Jisung did that to you.” Jisoo sighs. “I broke up with him, by the way.” She tells you.

“What? Why? You really liked him.” You gasp.

“I did, but the fact that he could do that to his own sister is just appalling.” She says.

“His heart was in the right place, Ji. He definitely went about it the wrong way, but don't let it ruin your relationship. You seem to be having a positive impact on him and I like that.” You smile.

Later that day, you went home. You see a depressed Jisung sitting on the couch, wallowing in self pity and ice cream. The second he sees you, he jumps off the couch. A tear rolls down his bruised cheek.

“Y/N.. I'm so fucking sorry.” He whispers. “I was so selfish and just such a piece of shit.. my god, I'm so sorry for everything.” He tells you. You walk towards him, wrapping your arms around him.

“I know.. I know your heart was in the right place.” You sigh.

“But I went about it in the worst possible way. And I will never forgive myself for that, Y/N. I was really just trying to protect you.” He says, holding you tighter.

“I know you were.” You say. “I forgive you, but I'm still so fucking mad at you.

“Jisoo is too. She broke up with me.” Jisung sighs.

“I spoke to her already, I'm sure you'll be getting a call soon.” you smile. “Listen.. I have some news.” You say, pulling away from him. You lead him to the couch to sit down.

“Oh god, what?” He whispers. You can tell he's scared.

“I got accepted for a scholarship at a university.. across the country.” You grin.

“Oh my god, Y/N! That's so amazing! I'm so happy for you!” He yells. “How long are you gone for?” He asks.

“Just a few months.. but given everything, I need a few months away.” You half chuckle.

“I think so too. A nice little fresh start. Recharge and do a lot of thinking. Make some new friends. I'm really excited.” You say.

“When do you leave?” He asks.

“Saturday..”

“That's tomorrow!?” He panics, standing up. “Get upstairs and get packing! Right now!” He exclaims. You laugh as you stand up, pulling him in for another hug. You head upstairs to your room, pulling out your suitcases and start packing, making sure to do the essentials first. A few hours into your packing, there's a knock at your door.

“I am packing Jisung, don't worry!” You yell. The door opens.

You turn around, Minho stands there. You don't know what to say.

“You're really leaving?” He asks.

“Not forever.” You say. “But this is a great opportunity and I need time.”

“She's not pregnant.” He blurts out. “It was a false alarm.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Why? I didn't want to have a baby with her, I don't even want to be with her. It's you, Y/N. I know everything has been shit these last few months and I'm so sorry for that but it's all done. Everything is out in the open, we can really be together.” He smiles.

“Minho..” you sigh.

“Please Y/N. Please don't go. I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I want it all with you, I'm all fucking in. Just please.” He begs.

“Please don't leave me.”

[the-kr8tor]

Hi I love your fics!!! Can you do one for the twins au where Ramona and Billie are maybe 4 or 5 and they start to notice Hobies British accent and start talking like him and saying British phrases. Like he asks them something and they just go “nah bruv” or there are just little instances throughout there day to day lives that reader and Hobie start to notice, where they use his slang at different moments at home, at the store, and it all comes to a head at school (cue parent teacher conference cause they asked a “kid are you mad bruv” and the teacher needs clarification lol). They’re able to watch a recording of their interaction during playtime with the student like you know how some schools have cameras where you can watch your kid now. Him and reader are surprised at how well they imitate his accent and try not laugh in front of the teacher but they tell them they can’t repeat everything daddy says and when readers not looking gives them a little proud wink and they giggle lol!!

Thank you for the adorable request! I changed it up a bit hope you don't mind ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Mom! Reader, Dad! Hobie, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You feel like a kid again sitting on the tiny, clearly not for adults chair. The classroom smells of crayons and glue, the walls are painted in every color of the rainbow, posters of numbers, letters and animals are taped on the walls. Flitting your eyes behind you to check on Billie and Mona, you see them build a house using blocks, mumbling to each other. They're wearing matching sweaters today (per their request,) bees and flowers adorning the thick fabric. And ribbons in their pretty hair. Mona rambles on to her sister about lego whilst her sister listens.

Hobie sits next to you, he doesn't look any better than you. With his long legs and arms, half of his body is the only part of him sitting on the pink plastic chair. Butt half hanging on the side, legs tucked, arms around his legs, back slouched— you bite your lip at the sight, trying your best not to laugh at his state.

Hobie senses your snicker, and you feel like you're back in school again when you quickly turn your head away, pretending you weren't looking at his lanky self struggling to sit on a kindergartener's chair.

He narrows his eyes, taking the teacher's erasure off her desk, flinging it towards your direction– hitting you right on your head. It bounces off and you gasp at the audacity. Faking innocence, Hobie whistles a nonchalant tune, eyes pretending to scan the poster of the alphabet tacked on the chalkboard.

“Really?” You say, smiling through it whilst picking up the fallen eraser.

“You started it.” The father of your children teasingly says as if his girls aren't just behind him playing blocks. Way to set an example.

“Nuh-uh”

“Yu-uh”

You threaten to toss the eraser at his smug face. He shields himself with his arms, chuckling under it. The door opens and you two straighten up, putting back the stationary on the teacher's table like nothing happened.

You definitely feel like you're a kid again.

“Sorry I'm late.” She apologizes, yellow dress swinging as she speed walks towards her table. “Lots of parents, so sorry.”

“That's alright,” you smile at the preppy woman, your hands on your knees, all prim and proper in front of your girls' favourite teacher.

Billie and Ramona had a hard time adjusting to school, but once Ms. Jenkins got them out of their shell, they would always ask you and Hobie if there's school the next day, or what kind of lunch they'll have for recess because their new friends apparently don't like raisins. They love to share, just as long as they eat theirs. So you always pack extras for their friends even though either you or Hobie have to wake up earlier than usual.

You like Ms. Jenkins, she's bubbly and awfully good at her job. One time Billie got sick and couldn't go to school, she personally contacted you to ask how she's doing and even got the entire class to make ‘get well soon’ cards for her. She's a sweetheart really, and most definitely likes your kids. But what has you nervously pick at your nails is that she called you and Hobie in personally for a PTA meeting. Her little note is stapled on the school's notice about the annual meeting, indicating that she needs to talk to you and Hobie.

Said man, scooches his chair closer to yours just to hold your hand while Ms. Jenkins settles on her own chair.

“So Billie and Ramona—” she starts and you hear the girls stand up abruptly from their equally tiny chairs.

“Present!” They cheerfully exclaim at the same time.

Hobie chuckles in his seat, “you run a tight ship, miss.”

“It's alright, my loves, go play.” You say in between soft laughs as you twist in your seat to look at their smiling faces. It all makes Hobie squeeze your hand tight—love overflowing through every squeeze.

Ms. Jenkins laughs, “they love attendance time, I always see them hyping themselves up before I call them.”

“Adorable.” You coo.

“So back to business,” she clasps her hands atop the desk. “Their grades are phenomenal, I know they're still just babies and grades don't usually matter in their level, but they're crushing it.”

Hobie gives you a look, wordlessly telling you, ‘we did that’

You nod, silently replying. ‘hell yeah, we did’

“They’re friends with the whole class.” The teacher continues “Yes, it was quite a hurdle for Ramona but she conquered it with the help of Billie. And when Billie needed help with maths, she helped her there without Billie asking for it.” She smiles and you feel sunshine come out of her. “They're the perfect team.”

“That's brilliant then, why the note?” Hobie asks before you could.

“They are a delight to have in class, but—” she winces. “They have been using some…colourful slang recently.”

“Oh no,” You look at Hobie in the corner of your eyes. He shakes his head innocently at your accusation. “Was it a bad word?”

“Not particularly, uh, it's all fine and dandy, like calling their mates ‘bloke’ or ‘bruv’—”

Hobie lets out a snicker, accidentally interrupting the teacher with his laugh. You glare secretly at him.

“Right, sorry, not funny at all.” He tries to save face. “Continue, Miss.”

“It's alright that they use it but I find that they've been using it more frequently and just last week they disrupted class when they uh…” Ms. Jenkins leans closer, elbows propped on her desk, whispering her words like a secret. “Yelled during movie time to say ‘that’s the dog's bollocks’ in reference to the amazing animation.”

Hobie looks like he's dying whilst trying his hardest not to laugh. Hands clasped on his mouth, shoulders shaking, lungs wheezing and eyes tightly shut. You swear, you even see a tear clinging to his lashes.

You're not the greatest example either as you tightly press your lips together, also trying your darndest to not laugh.

You try to keep your composure even though Hobie's practically losing it next to you. Even Ms. Jenkins hides her grin.

“I'm so sorry—” you accidentally let out a giggle before inhaling deeply to tamp it down. “We'll talk to them once we get home.” Your stomach hurts from restraining yourself.

“That's great!” She clears her throat, doing better at composing herself than you and Hobie. “That's all, thank you so much for coming! There's cookies and juice in the hallway.” Standing up, she holds her hand for a handshake.

You shake her hand while Hobie's still losing it in his seat. “Thank you, Miss, have a great holiday.” You're a bit better at hiding your laughter but if Hobie let out a guffaw right now, you're for sure to follow suit.

“You too!” She smiles, “bye, Bee! Bye, Mona!” Waving her hand, the girls happily wave back.

“Okay, let's go.” You had to lift Hobie up from his seat or else he'll be glued to it while his body wracks with silent laughter.

The second you and your little family settle inside the car, Hobie lets out the loudest laugh, you follow a half second later, the sound echoing in the vehicle.

Billie and Ramona look at you two confused, hands pausing from devouring their snacks.

“I think they're proper bonkers.” Mona whispers, leaning towards her sister, and Billie nods in agreement.

[ssweetleaf]

bigmouth strikes again

♡ pairing- best friend!steve harrington x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

♡ summary- steve doesn’t get jealous. ever. and when eddie ‘the freak’ munson tries to kiss you, he makes it his mission to split you open and show you who you belong to. but it’s totally not because he’s jealous,, definitely not.

♡ includes- SMUT, best friends to lovers, angst, pussy eating cuz it’s my fave, degradation, praise, jealous!steve, rushed bathroom sex, unprotected sex, (please don’t do that, use protection) spanking, shitty ending because you know me,,

♡ a/n- i was totally gonna make this a threesome including eddie, but decided against it :( seriously thinking of writing one of those now,,

Steve wasn’t jealous. Not at all. In fact, zero jealousy was looming inside of his mind even when ‘the freak’ Munson gave you heart eyes, practically pressing himself against you, letting all the prying eyes of the party ogle at the scene— god, Steve hoped that Eddie wouldn’t lean in for a kiss, he was so close, dangerously close and Harrington swore to all hell, he’d pour all of the contents of Eddie’s stupid lunch box down the fucking toilet bowl if he put his mouth on you—

Well, shit. Steve was totally jealous.

But how could he not be? The high school’s designated cult leader was flirting with his best friend! And yeah he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he sure as hell wanted to be, and seeing you all snug against Eddie’s chest, practically grinding against him while some Duran Duran song filtered throughout the house…Oh no, he was going in for the kiss,,

It didn’t take Steve long to be right by your sides, digging his palm into Munson’s shoulder and pushing him back with a surprising amount of force.

Poor King Steve was in deep.

“Get your fuckin’ mouth off her.” He grumbled, standing tall in front of you, shielding your body from his most deadly threat in that moment. Eddie blinked at him in a sort of disbelief, cocking his face to the side with hazy eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry-” he spoke, sarcasm practically dripping from the tip of his tongue, “I didn’t know y/n had a boyfriend.”

Steve stuttered over his speech, shifting from foot to foot and even looking back at you as if to say, can you believe this guy?

“Steve, what’re you doing?” You sighed while frowning up at him, of course he had to ruin a perfectly good interaction with a real pretty guy! You had thought it was time to move on from your stupid little crush on your best friend, and he had to go and fuck it up by inserting himself between you and a potential candidate to get over him. The worst part was, it just made you fall even deeper in love with Harrington than before, and you were really trying.

Steve was your best friend. Steve was your best friend!

“What am I doing?” He was still stuttering, gawking down at you as if you had two heads, and you could see Eddie was getting rather amused, watching the scene unfurl. “Seriously, y/n? I’m trying to get this freak away from you, before he gives you some- some disease!”

“What is your fuckin’ problem, Harrington?” Yeah, Eddie was no longer smirking, in fact he was scowling, pushing at Steve’s chest. All the ruckus was earning a small crowd, various inebriated eyes blinking up at the three of you.

What an embarrassment.

Steve shook his head, wrapping a hand around your wrist, though being careful not to tug too hard, attempting to usher you away, wanting to go somewhere a lot more private. Away from all the prying eyes; away from Eddie fucking Munson.

“Oh, I get it-” Munson smirked, getting all up in Steve’s space, face mere inches from his own and Steve could smell the weed on his clothes, “pretty boy stevie’s in love.”

Oh shit. He was blushing. He wasn’t supposed to be blushing, how the hell did Eddie figure that out?

“Shut up.” He seethed, scoffing at his conclusion, which was completely right actually, but he couldn’t ever let him have the satisfaction. It would ruin him.

“You jealous, Harrington? Is that right?” They were slowly starting to shove each other, harder with each go, but you couldn’t quite concentrate on the scene before you, those words coursing throughout your brain like a fucking mantra.

Pretty boy Stevie’s in love.

God, if it were true. You heart hammered at the thought, gnawing idly at your slick bottom lip — maybe it was time to interject. At the rate they were going, you were sure a fight would break loose, and you were even more sure of it when Steve went in for the punch.

For Christ’s sake!

His fist collided with the skin of Eddie’s cheek, splitting the skin of his knuckles and reddening Munson’s pretty face, the outline of a bruise already blooming.

“Alright, that’s enough!” You pulled at the collar of Steve’s shirt, pulling him back as much as you could— putting as much space between the two of them, enough so that when Eddie swung, his fist punched the air. “What has gotten into you, Steve!”

He shook his head, his knuckles throbbing, but it was worth it, he thought, curling his fingers around your wrist once again.

“Come on, y/n, it’s time to go.” Steve was still seething, but he wanted to get you alone. Fuck, he wanted to show you that you were his and no one else’s, he wanted to find the nearest bathroom and fuck you with his cock, nice ‘n’ deep until you knew who you belonged to, until the only name on your mind was his. Not Eddie’s.

His cock was stirring in his pants, and oddly, the growing welt upon Munson’s face had him throbbing.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry-” you tried to apologise, all while Steve dragged you off, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Steve scoffed, and Eddie called after you, shouting loud enough so you could hear him over the thumping of the current record.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? Sweetheart!

Oh yeah, now Steve was fuming. Tugging you behind him, his strides so large you could barely keep up with him, stumbling after him like a lost puppy.

Countless times you prodded at him, wondering where he was taking you. You could tell how angry he was, steam practically shooting from his ears and there were people staring.

It didn’t take him too long to find an empty room after searching through all of the locked and unfortunately unlocked ones— which mostly consisted of couples that were in the middle of fucking. Not a pretty sight.

“In.” His tone was clipped, brow furrowed and you wanted to smooth his worry lines away with the pads of your thumbs, but you quickly shook the thought away while he locked the door.

You weren’t totally sure what to do. Were you supposed to say something? To be frank, you quite liked the position you were in— the bathroom wasn’t small, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to step away from you, and neither could you, your chests heaving and you watched him sigh and groan.

“I don’t want him touching you like that,” He almost whined, rubbing his face with a palm, “I don’t want anyone touching you like that.”

“I- Steve, you can’t just decide who gets to touch me—”

“Do you seriously not understand what I’m trying to say?” He cut you off. What? Of course you didn’t understand, he was babbling and being rather possessive, and you wanted to punch yourself at how turned on you had gotten because of it.

“Enlighten me, Harrington.”

“You’re mine!” He huffed, “you belong to me, and no one else, especially not that fucking freak.”

You were gawking, cheeks burning and you swore your eyes were about to bulge out of their sockets. You hadn’t even realised he’d pushed you against the counter, trapping you there with a hand on either side of you, and you whined when his arms flexed.

The tension was thick, so thick you could cut it with a knife and his eyes flickered over your lips before he brought a hand to your throat, squeezing just barely. The scenario had gone from zero to a hundred so fast it could’ve given you whiplash and your senses were on a complete overload. The alcohol in your systems had you working at a fast pace, and you knew drunk Steve well enough to know how cocky he’d get.

“You gonna let me show you, sweetheart?” Steve’s lips ghosted over your cheek, breath fanning over the most sensitive parts of your neck and he even left a chaste little kiss to the skin. “Gonna be a good girl and let everyone hear how cock drunk you’re gonna be?”

Steve knew what you liked— all the late nights talking about what other guys did that turned you on, it really came in handy. His filthy words got to you, and you whined a quick yes before leaning in for a kiss. He stopped you however, pushing you back and the hand on your neck moved to your cheeks, squeezing them, making your lips jut into a pout.

“Not so fast, baby,” he cooed, “what’s the magic word?”

The fucking tease.

“Please, Stevie!” You fisted his shirt, whining and crying out already, all you wanted was his kisses.

“Atta girl.”

・✫・゜・。.

Your hips were flush against the counter, and his mouth was pressed hotly against yours, licking into your mouth and sloppily sucking your tongue into his. Steve thought he could’ve came from the pretty sound of your whimpers alone, but he promised himself he’d fuck you nice and dumb, split you open with his cock and have you all drooling and pretty underneath him.

He had to stay focused.

“On the counter, pretty girl,” his speech was muffled against your slick mouth, but you complied, shuffling awkwardly onto the bathroom counter and you only managed to lift yourself onto it with his help. “that’s it.”

He was quick to suck at your neck, mouthing at your pulse point and using his teeth and lips to litter your skin with filthy bruises. You were completely falling apart at the seams, mind buzzing and solely focused on Steve and you were so fucking wet, saturating the cotton that covered your cunt, and probably seeping into the fabric of your jeans.

“Take ‘em off.” You whined, squeezing at his biceps and letting a loud moan tumble from your throat at the sight of his swollen lips. He did as you asked with a smirk on his face, shuffling the denim down your thighs, fumbling to get rid of the shoes you were wearing and kicking them away.

“Such a greedy girl, hm? Fuckin’ dripping for me and I haven’t even gotten to the good part.” Three of his fingers rubbed you through your underwear, using his thumb to press down on your clit, “gonna let everyone know, isn’t that right? Gonna let everyone know how much of a whore you are for your best friend Stevie.”

Oh shit.

You were clenching around nothing, chest heaving because of his filthy mouth and nodding along to everything he said.

“Come on, thighs open-” his breath was getting laboured- impatient, pushing at your thighs and keeping them wide, falling to his knees and tugging your underwear to the side— a crude ripping sound followed suit, but fuck, you didn’t care, not when his pretty face nuzzled in between your thighs, breathing in your scent and fluttering his lashes up at you. He even had the audacity to smirk. “Gonna eat this fuckin’ pussy.”

Steve stuck to his word alright, starting off by mouthing at your thighs and slowly making his way to your folds, bumping his nose against your hidden clit before parting your folds with two fingers.

You were dripping, slick with arousal and all because of him, your clit throbbed and crooned to be in his mouth and you tugged at his hair, whining and batting your lashes.

“Please, Stevie,” his hips bucked at the sound, “m’so wet for you.”

He licked a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, starting at the base of your hole, right up to your clit and he dipped the tip of his tongue inside you, spreading your slick around, getting your clit all wet before suckling it between his lips.

He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations thrumming on your clit and he lapped and suckled, rolling it between his lips. He shook his head from side to side, and you cried out, tugging at his hair and pushing him deeper.

“Good girl,” those vibrations again! “Want you nice ‘n’ loud, d’you think you can do that f’me, honey?”

You babbled out a yes, cheeks already streaming with salty tears, running in long black lines, your lashes wet and thick with mascara— Steve thought you looked completely seraphic, even while your pussy was being devoured by his lips and tongue, even while you looked so fucked out. He couldn’t wait to get his cock inside you.

Full lips occasionally puckered against the inners of your thighs, the hot flesh slick with spit and faint outlines of his teeth before diving straight back to your pussy, lolling his tongue and sloppily thrusting his jaw like a starved man eating the forbidden fruit.

You were already so close, all from mere minutes of your clit being suckled at, but how could anyone blame you when he devoured your cunt like an absolute champ?!

It was as if he had read your mind,,

“Y’gonna cum, pretty girl?” he mumbled against you, crude squelching noises erupting throughout the bathroom and if it weren’t for the constant music thumping around the house, you were sure everyone would’ve been able to hear everything. “Be a good girl and hold it.”

“No-” you whined, sobbing into the air and pulling hard at his hair, guiding him to where you needed him most, practically fucking his face with the speed your hips bucked. “Needa cum, let me cum- I’ve been so good-”

Steve pulled away from your cunt, his palm landing a sharp smack to your thigh and his eyes were so fucking dark. A surge of warmth flooded your already sopping pussy and you couldn’t contain your sobs when he spanked you again.

“Too greedy for your own good-” he muttered, rising from his knees with a little bit of hesitation, he could’ve kneeled there for hours, but he wanted to keep you on your toes, show you who was in charge. “you cum when I tell you to cum, do you understand?”

His hands were on you again, squeezing at your cheeks like before, humiliating you, his cock throbbing just looking at the state of you.

And you fucking loved it.

He didn’t give you time to respond, using a free hand to open his belt buckle and unzip his fly— pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to be free from all the confines.

He kissed you- once, twice, three times, then in quick succession, he had your t-shirt bunched around the curve of both breasts, tugging crudely at the band of your bra and thumb swiping over the little bow that lay pride and place between your tits. The weight of your breasts spilled out of the cups, so heavy in his palms and nipples achingly stiff when he rolled his thumbs over each one.

You poor thing, you were getting restless, thighs unable to clench and squeeze together because of his perch between them, resulting in you crooning and begging for him to hurry, to settle himself inside you and satiate the obscene throbbing of your desperately engorged clit.

Your spurring had him take his cock in his hand, and you ogled at how pretty it looked— the tip was your favourite shade of pink, glistening in the flickering light of the lamp, pearly white beads of pre-cum dripped along the sides of his shaft, slicking him up and sinking into the ridges.

So pretty. So mouth-wateringly pretty.

He was big too, surpassing any other guy you had been with before, and you just knew there was gonna be one hell of a stretch.

“Like what you see?” He flashed you a mocking smile. Cocky boy. “you’re practically drooling, messy girl.”

You wanted to quip back at him, or roll your eyes at least, but you couldn’t! Your gaze was glued to his cock, you were fucking gawking and yes, he was right, you were drooling.

“You’re so big.”

Steve’s tugs upon his cock faltered at that, you were whining so pathetically and he thought he was gonna explode. Compose yourself, Harrington, he thought.

“I know, baby, but you can take it, can’t you?” He cooed, “pretty pussy of yours is so wet, bet I’ll just slip right in, ain’t that right?”

His questions were truly rhetorical, and he proved his filthy mouth right when he slipped inside you with little resistance— your gummy walls sucking him in and he could barely move with your vice-like grip.

“Holy shit-” his hips stuttered, pressing his face against your tits so he could gather some composure. He wasn’t gonna last long. “Stop squeezin’ me like that or I’ll fucking cum.”

“Can’t help it, Stevie, I can feel you in my tummy-”

Fuck.

It took him a couple minutes, just standing there, balls-deep in your slick cunt before he started to thrust his hips. And once he had a rhythm going, he was relentless, fucking up into you nice and deep, just like he’d promised you before— his pace so fast, your fuzzy mind couldn’t quite comprehend it and you drooled at how deep he was, already nudging your special spot and making you writhe.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t answer, dumb from the deep thrusts of that perfect cock of his.

“So cockdrunk you can’t even use your words,” he moaned loud into the stuffy air, “fuck, imagine if Munson saw us. Saw you sat on your best friend’s cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, squealing and whining, so pathetic and pretty and a part of you wanted Eddie to see you- or anyone for that matter, so everyone would know that you belonged to your best friend Steve Harrington: one of the most sought after boys in Hawkins.

“Christ- didn’t know you were such a— oh fuck- such a whore.”

You were close, and you made that apparent— with the constant pounding of his cock and the bumping of his pelvis upon your puffy clit had you near to cumming, you hoped he’d let you cum this time, leaning in for a kiss that was entirely tongue and teeth, his lips still sticky with your arousal and you quivered around him.

“Gonna- gonna cum! Needa cum so bad-” he did too, you could feel it, he was groaning, whining, clinging onto your thighs and pumping erratically into you— he was throbbing hotly, and the thought of his cum inside you, all deep and stuffed full to the brim- holy shit!

“Me too- fuck, baby-” he clung to you, kissing any space upon you that was closest, “go on, cum with me. Be a good girl now-”

A flurry of stars and twinkly lights fluttered around the room and Stevie was a complete blur, but still managed to be oh so pretty. You were so full of his cum, warm throughout, and your hole quivered and your clit thumped with the bliss of cumming finally. Expletives fell from his lips, and yours too, feeling sated and breathless, but not entirely settled because of the spasms that racked your limp body.

Steve stood shakily between your still-parted thighs, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck with a thumb grazing your warm cheek.

He couldn’t pull himself out of you yet, too fucked out to put his softening cock back into his jeans.

It was silent between you both, apart from your laboured breaths.

“Y’know-” you managed to croak out, voice horse from the constant squealing and whining of SteveSteveSteve- and you raked a hand through his messy hair, “you were totally jealous.”

“I was not jealous.”

“You so were!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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[magics-neptunes-things]

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Hi :)

So like I said last time, this one might be a little darker than the other, you will kind of learn of Y/N's dark background but I try to put some fluff to make the balance.

I hope you will enjoy it, I puted warning inside the chapter for people who might be bothered by the TW.

TW : Angst, mention of torture (?), domestic violence, mention of smut.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7

______________________________________________________________

After your first time together, it’s like you opened the floodgates of a churn. You and Leah just can’t resist each other’s call anymore. There’s not a night you’ve spent separately, constantly rediscovering each other’s bodies. You don’t know if this is the expectation you have imposed on yourself talking but you don’t really care about the truth. You’ve never felt so good and confident with someone, Leah even managed to stop making you wonder everyday how you would survive the end of your relationship. Still without a label, by the way.

Of course, sometimes Leah goes out without you at night, finding friends like Alex. You take advantage of these evenings to spend time with yours or to call others who are not in the same place as you. Either you go out for a drink or you end up in Alessia’s apartment, alone with her or with other people. It has become a routine without really being one but it suits you very well like that.

********

"What is it?"

You’re lying on your front with your face on the pillow that Leah usually sleeps on, in her house. Lying on her side, facing you, Leah was sliding her fingers on your bare back. You know exactly what it is, but you feel your heart racing when her fingers stop on a mark on your back. You know that a star is drawn right here, masking one scar under the colors of your tattoo. You hardly swallow your saliva and close your eyes before answering her.

"A scar" you mumble

Behind you, Leah frowns and rises herself slightly, leaning on her elbow. Her fingers slide towards another star, realizing that there is here another hidden scar. Your breathing also accelerated when Leah slipped her fingers on all the stars, all the scars, present on your back.

"What happened to you?" whispers Leah.

You close your eyes stronger, as if this gesture would allow you to escape the emotions that gradually take hold of you. Leah seems to notice your trouble, getting closer to you to wrap you in a comforting embrace. It takes you a few seconds to realize that it works. Her presence serves as a shield against all these negative emotions that usually invade you when you think about this part of your past. That make you breath a little easily.

Leah’s question made you feel like she didn’t need an answer back, which is why you take the time to answer it.

"These are cigarette burns"

A deafening silence takes place in the room and you feel Leah gently detaching from your back. You miss her touch, but she gently turns you on her back, an extra care cutting with the visible fury in her eyes. It takes your breath away.

"Who did that to you?"

Her voice is low with anger. You shake your head and bite your lip. You’ve never felt more vulnerable than at this moment, yet you know you can have full confidence in her. Understanding once again what is happening in your head, Leah gently takes your cheek in her hand and caresses you gently with her thumb, waiting for you to answer.

"It’s in the past, Lee" you answer in a low voice.

Her gaze plunged into yours probes you at length, but she finally nods. You slide an arm around her waist when she lies on you to press her forehead against yours.

"I’ll tell you one day, I promise." you mumble

"Just… I want you to know that I’m here, Y/N. Against all odds, even if it’s a day when we’re fighting over kid stuff. Call me and I’ll be there."

You can't answer anything at that, the emotions way to strong, your throat clenching with them. But Leah doesn't seems to mind, kissing your cheek lovingly and laying her head next to yours. You can feel her starring, but your gaze stay fixed on the ceiling. You don't want to hide from her, but you don't want to scare her either.

"Stop overthinking Cutie"

You smile when you hear her whispers and kissing the corner of your mouth.

"You miss" you whisper back, turning your head in her direction.

Leah smiles back and kiss you full on your lips, stroking your jaw with her thumb. You fall asleep not long after, protecting from the darkness with her arms.

********

The return of the championship in January also announces the return of Leah on the fields. And you couldn’t be more excited to see her play again and especially to play with her. Until now you have only had her as an opponent and she has always given you a hard time. To have her as an opponent only during your training where you end up teasing each time like two teenagers suits you very well.

Leah returned only a few minutes acte the second half, but the cheer and joy of the crowd was worth the wait. Leah’s smile too and since all eyes must be turned towards her, you do not refrain from looking over her. It’s worth a playing elbow from Katie, to whom you pull out your tongue.

Despite the slight worry of seeing her play again, the rest of the game went very well. When the blonde launches into a perfectly executed slid tackle to steal the ball from the opponent, you can’t help but smile.

"She’s back" says an excited Alessia by putting an arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah. She’s back" you answer with a smile.

The party that takes place at Kim’s to celebrate the team’s victory and Leah’s return will certainly earn her some enmity in her neighborhood. Almost all players are present, even those who usually prefer to go home. You found yourself in Leah’s arms at the beginning of the evening, but overall you managed to let her enjoy this evening with everyone.

It’s only when you’re beating Alessia and Laia Codina at the beerpong with Wally as a teammate that the blonde makes her appearance back at you.

"Leah stop" you laugh when you feel her pinching your ribs.

You’ve always been awfully ticklish, something Leah has only discovered very recently. Since then, she hasn’t been shy about abusing it.

"Hey, stop distracting my partner."

Lia gently pushes Leah from you to allow you to throw your ball, but Laia barely drank the liquid inside that Leah finds herself glued to you again, your back pressed against her.

"I need my hugs" Leah whines, wrapping around you like an octopus.

You smile tenderly, turning your head in her direction to put a kiss on her cheek.

"We just need Less to miss twice more and we won" you answer maliciously.

"Hey that's mean!" exclaims Alessia, frowning from the other end of the table.

The truth is that you have to wait three shots instead of two, Alessia succeeding hers but Laia missing the other two.

"Winner winner!" sing Lia

You high five with her, all smiles, Leah still hanging on your back. Laia tries to demand revenge, but it was not counting the intervention of the blonde.

"Oh no! She’s mine now"

And with that she takes you inside, leaving Victoria to help Lia win her second game of the evening.

The hangover of the next day is awful. It's only at 2pm that you manage to get out of bed to go slump on your couch, after swallowing water and tablets that are supposed to make your headache go away.

The struggle seems to be general since soon after, Alessia slips into your apartment with the same tired face as you, a giant paper bag in her hand.

"I made a mistake in my food order, I hope you like Chinese"

It turns out that instead of ordering a pack of chicken skewers, Alessia accidentally ordered 10. After you’ve cleaned them to the best of their peanut sauce, Leah agree to eat some of them with baked potatoes you made for her, Alessia teasing you about you being so whipped. For your part, you gladly help Alessia to reduce her pile of Cantonese rice.

"Lia is alive and Katie and Caitlin too. I’m not sure about Beth though" Leah informs you after throwing her phone somewhere in your couch.

You laugh slowly, finishing your chicken. You end the day watching nonsense on television, your head leaning on Leah’s shoulder while sitting against her and Alessia’s legs lying on your knees. And honestly, this is the best hangover day you’ve ever had.

********

The almost daily presence of Leah in your apartment doesn’t prevent Alessia from coming to meet you as regularly as before. It even happens that you go to her appartment with Leah, as is the case today for a cup of coffee before training. After you finish yours, you get up, dropping a quick kiss on Leah’s hair before you slip away to finish getting ready.

Leah continues the conversation with Alessia for a few moments, before losing herself in contemplation of the bottom of her cup of coffee. Deciding to leave her in her thoughts, Less quietly finishes hers, nevertheless raising her gaze on her friend when she resumes speaking.

"Can I ask you something?" Leah suddenly said.

"Of course"

Curiosity takes hold of Alessia who looks at Leah with an interrogative air.

"Look, I have a question. I know you’ve slept with Y/N.. " Leah begin before interrumpting herself when she sees Alessia’s wide-eyes. "Oh god no. Not like that Less"

"Yeah well because not at all"

Leah rolls her eyes and shakes her head smiling.

"I mean of course she’s pretty but…"

"Ok stop fantasing about my girl and focus please. But I was wondering, did she ever have nightmares when she was with you?"

Frowning again, Alessia looks thoughtfully at Leah, trying to remember this information.

"Maybe once, yes. But I’m a heavy sleeper, it’s not for nothing that I have to set ten alarms before getting up. She woke up suddenly and jumped, that’s what woke me up. Why?"

Leah bite her lip and shrugs, her cup still thoughtfully in her hands. She doesn’t know how open you are to her talking to your friends about your sleep problems, but if Alessia already knows, it doesn’t ok, right?

"I don’t know. She’s got a lot of them lately…"

"Did you try to talk about it with her?"

Leah shakes her head negatively. No, she never wanted to talk to you about it since you usually fall back down quite quickly against her and you go back to sleep just as quickly. And in the morning, you don’t seem to want to talk about it either.

"Maybe give it a try."

"Try what?" you ask when you come back to Miss Russo’s apartment.

"To be on time at training, for once" Leah replies, getting up after glancing at the clock on the wall.

********

TW : MENTION OF TORTURE

You’re lying on a bed where you haven’t been back on in years. The room is more oppressive, more gloomy and unhealthy than you remember. Other than that, nothing seems to have changed. Not even the unpleasant contraction that twists your belly when the apartment door opens and is slammed a few seconds later. Helena’s heavy steps seem to echo throughout the apartment as she makes her way to her bedroom.

You jump when the door opens and you understand in one glance that she is in an awful mood.

"I thought I told you to drop your stupid football?"

The force of her words is equivalent to the door of the room slamming when she closes it. After that, she approaches you to tackle you against the mattress.

"As if you were able to achieve anything good. You're less than nothing, I don't even know what I do with you."

Her icy voice gives you goose bump but you manage to find the strength to answer her, hating the way your voice looks so small.

"They said I’m good enough to join the national team"

"Shut up."

The slap you receive is usual, but still humiliating. Hurtful. You desperately hold back your tears but you become aware of the extent of her anger when she grabs you by the hair to turn you on the stomach. The noise of the lighter she lights and the noise that makes the cigarette pack when she opens it terrorize you.

END TW : MENTION OF TORTURE

"No, please, please!"

"Babe wake up!"

You are awakened by hands on your shoulders, shaking you hard with the obvious purpose of waking you up. When you open your eyes you’re facing Leah’s blue eyes, full of concern and maybe a little of panic.

If your first reflex was to retreat abruptly until you find yourself pinned to the headboard, you quickly regain awareness of reality. You’re with Leah and her blue eyes, not your ex and her icy gray eyes.

"It’s okay, honey, you were having a nightmare. You’re safe, yeah?"

You swallow and nod, trying to catch your breath. Your shirt is wet with sweat and you’re wondering how long Leah’s been trying to wake you up. She asks you about your nightmares two days before and was looking at you since then. Especially when you told her that she didn't have to worry about it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Leah gently asks as she chases a lock of hair from your face.

She doesn’t seem to be bothered by your reaction. You close your eyes and gently shake your head. You don’t want to impose her the world that was yours before. You don’t know why you had this nightmare again, it’s been months since it happened to you. And when it did, you were alone. You never spent the night with your other ex, just afraid that this kind of thing would happen. But, again, you trust Leah. You just don’t want her to learn all the details of what you’ve been through. You’re afraid it will change her outlook on you.

"Hug?"

This time you smile softly, opening your eyes. You sigh of relief as you feel Leah’s arms around you and slide your face into the hollow of her neck. You stay there for many minutes, calming your nerves, until you feel good enough to realize that cuddling someone full of sweat like you are doesn’t have to be very pleasant.

"Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Of course not" Leah replies simply.

You smile again and push back the sheet that is wrapped around your legs to get out of bed. Just then, Leah gently grabs your chin in her hand.

"Hey" says the blonde softly, her eyes into yours. "Whatever it is, Y/N. I’ll always be there"

Unable to answer her, you just kiss her wrist. This kind of promise reassures you, but also scares you a little. Because the more time passes, the more you get attached to her and the more you risk burning your wings if she decides you’re too much for her. Even if you don’t think about her leaving you everyday, it’s one of your biggest fear.

You let her kiss your temple by sliding her hand on your cheek to tighten against her for a few seconds, before releasing you. You know the way to her bathroom by heart and you know where to find what you need. With time, you know her apartment as well as yours. As much as Leah knows yours. You quickly get rid of your wet clothes and turn on the water, waiting for it to heat up to the right temperature.

In the meantime, you find yourself caught in the spiral of your thoughts, perhaps returning a little too much towards your nightmare. Your eyes are mechanically on the bathroom door when Leah knocks it gently.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course"

Leah’s seen you naked dozens of times, but you appreciate her asking before she walks into the room. It’s exactly those little things that make you realize she’s different from the others. You even give her a sincere smile to which she answers, before you slip under the hot water.

"Need some help down there?"

When you look back at Leah, she has her famous smirk and that playing look that makes you fall in love every time again. You smile again and shrug.

"Maybe I need help rubbing my back"

Quickly rid of her clothes, Leah joins you under the hot water, not giving a care about the fact that it’s two in the morning. You didn’t expect her to take your joke at face value, but you see her grab the bottle of shower gel and put it in her hands before applying it to your back. A gesture perhaps banal for many, but so comforting and intimate that you feel your throat tie.

But you don’t cry, though. You're trying to put your weak moment behind. You close your eyes and sigh, enjoying Leah’s touch and pleasant massage.

When she has finished, you turn around to be able to look at her better. The heat of the water filled the bathroom with steam, but that doesn’t prevent you from distinguishing each of Leah’s features accurately. She looks back for some seconds before you slowly put a lock of her hair behind her ear. The amount of affection, love, you feel for here make your heart ache.

"I love you, Leah. I’m so in love with you."

The surprise lasts a few seconds on her face, before being replaced by a big smile. Different from the one you could see in the photos of the Euro 2022, certainly because it's another emotion that currently inhabits her. But her arms draw you against her and you let yourself going against her very willingly. The way your body seems to fit perfectly with hers will probably never cease to impress you. When Leah talk again, you can hear the emotions in her voice.

"I’m in love with you, too. I love you so much, I wouldn’t even know what words to use to describe it."

Your heart is pounding and you wonder if Leah can feel it against her skin. You lose yourself a few seconds in the vastness of the blue of her eyes before resuming talking.

"If I tell you everything about my past, you have to promise to never tell anyone"

You see Leah hesitating, slightly frowned. You have the impression of being able to read her thoughts and you know that she wonders if she will be able to keep such a promise, according to what you will tell her. You know that some informations will make her angry, scared or sad.

"It’s related to tonight’s nightmare?" she asks before continuing when you nod "And the scars in your back"

It’s not really a question, but you still answer it with a positive nod once again. You already knew she had drawn conclusions in her head, but you don’t know how right or wrong she is. Her gaze studies you for a few long seconds before she sighs, seeming to accept your request.

So you tell her everything.

Your meeting with Helena, your parents' opposition to you dating her, not because she was a girl but because she didn’t seem to be mentally stable enough. You tell her how much you wanted to stand up to them and prove them wrong, then how much you were wrong about her. You tell her about the shame you felt at the idea of asking for the help of your parents, yet so benevolent and affectionate with you. You talk to her about the physical abuse she’s inflicted on you, the verbal abuse, the sequestrations. And when you tell her the final step of the cigarettes she used extinguish on your back, Leah squeezes you so tightly that it would be impossible for the slightest drop of water to pass between your two bodies. It’s the most intimate thing you’ve ever experienced. Much stronger than sex. A silence settled between both of you, only disturbed by the sound of the water and your breaths.

"How did you get out?" Leah whispers, her face on your shoulder, after a few moments of silence at the end of your story.

"Ingrid picked me up. The training camp for the national team was in my city and I had been called. When she learns that I wasn't here without any explanation to anyone, she came to the house and helps me get out of here."

"Ingrid Engen knows all this?"

Leah steps back a few inches to look at you and you give her a sad smile.

"No. Well, she knows that Helena was opposed to me playing football and that I was not happy with her. She picked me up, helped me pack my things and I never saw Helena again from that day on. She never forced me to explain, just to support and advise me when I needed it. She took me back to my parents after that, until I had the contract with Man City."

"Being such a good person and ending up with Maria Leon" sighs Leah, making you laugh. "What a shame"

"We must stop this rivalry with the Spanish players, Williamson"

Leah makes a horrible grimace that makes you laugh again. You feel relieved to have shared this story with Leah, more than you could have imagined. And seeing her react the way you needed to is more than comforting. You feel like a weight was carry out of you.

"I owe her" Leah said after another silence.

"Mapi?"

"Nah, ew." Leah rolls her eyes "Ingrid."

"Why?"

"Because without her, I would never have had the chance to meet you."

A soft smile spreads on your face and you gently kiss your girlfriend. After a few minutes of cuddling under the hot water, you decide to return to the bedroom to enjoy the last hours of sleep before you have to prepare for tomorrow morning’s training. Leah proposes for you to skip it, but you don't want to.

Dressed in an old Leah jersey and underwear, you slip under the duvet and stick yourself directly against Leah when she joins you in her bed. It takes a few moments for you to regain a state of drowsiness and, as often, your mind starts again.

"Leah?" You whisper after a few minutes.

"Mh?"

She seems lost in her thoughts too.

"Would you tell me if everything I just said was too much for you?"

"What do you mean?" asks the pretty blonde while moving so she can look at you.

"I never told you about all this because I was afraid it would impact you too much. Let the… darkness within me invade you and mark you too much. I was afraid to dirty you with all this story"

You see Leah thinking a few seconds before answering you, probably to choose the best words to convey everything she thinks. Despite the fact that English isn't your first language, you have never had problems making yourself understood and vice versa.

"It’s part of your story Y/N, even if I would give everything so that you could go back in the past and escape that part of your story, it contributed to who you are. And I wouldn’t change anything about you. I fell in love with the person you are, with your qualities, your flaws and your past."

"Don’t you think I’m too damaged for you?"

"I think you’re perfect for me" Leah replies tenderly.

"Good. 'Cause you’re perfect for me, too."

"Good. Now back to sleep. You have to be in shape for tomorrow, when I’ll make you do extra tricks with Alessia and Manuela because of your antics."

You roll your eyes, laying again against your favorite blonde. She gently strokes your hair like she knows it make you fall asleep quite quickly.

"Lee?" you mumble some times after

"Yes Sweetheart?"

"Thank you"

********

Confiding in Leah about your past helped dispel the nightmares you had from time to time. While you thought that this would open the door to all kinds of memories, you realize that you continue to manage to keep them aside, well compartmentalized in a corner of your brain.

You carefully observed Leah’s behavior after you confessed, still fearing a change in it. Perhaps the only thing that has changed is her protective side. You have seen her wince several times when you find yourself on the ground after contacts during games, relaxing only when your eyes cross and you smile at her to reassure her that everything is fine.

Just before the middle of February, you find yourself at the table in your apartment and she takes advantage of Alessia having to take a phone call to ask you a question. You’ve noticed that she’s been trying to talk to you about something since this morning, but she changes her mind at the last minute. Fearing it was something related to your past, you cowardly decided not to insist on your side. Leah already asked you why you didn’t press charges and pointed out that it was still possible. She seemed upset when you told her you just needed to forget about that part of your past but she gave up.

"I was wondering" finally begins the blonde playing with her rings "Valentine’s Day. Would you like to do something special?"

"Oh."

Valentine’s Day, you honestly hadn’t thought about it for a single second and you feel a wave of panic seizing you. You don’t have any gifts planned for her and you’ve always sucked for ideas. It’s probably too late to order something from the internet anyway, with delivery times at a time of year like that.

"Hello?"

Leah’s voice resounds again and you suddenly shift your attention to her.

"Valentine’s Day? You want us to do something?"

You think for a few seconds while biting your lip before finally shrugging your shoulders.

"Honestly, I’ve never really celebrated Valentine’s Day. But I’m never against spending time with you, quite the contrary. We don’t need to do something extraordinary, just you and me and a good movie. It’ll be just fine."

It was not knowing Leah at all.

The only thing she listened in that sentence is that you never celebrated Valentine’s Day and she intends to make your first one special. You don’t even react when she informs you that she won’t go home with you right away after training on Valentine’s Day, having something to do before returning.

For your part, you imagine that you will just spend the evening at home with her. You thankfully managed to find her a gift. You asked Lia to go with you somewhere to find something for Leah, she knows her well. Lia initially refused, saying you were better placed to know Leah’s tastes. But in front of your despair and your supplications, she finally accepted.

Actually she was right and what you found, you could have found it on your own. But it was nice to have the Swiss woman by your side. You opted for a jewel, rather refined but that Leah can wear with just about anything she wants.

You are only dressed in your towel in the bathroom when you hear your apartment door open. Leah having had the double of your keys a long time ago, like Alessia, you pass your head by the door to know which of the two blondes is in your apartment.

"You could have waited for me" Leah jokes, making her way quickly to you when she realises you are almost naked.

"I thought you had already showered before leaving" you answer with a smile.

"True. I wouldn’t mind doing it again tho"

Leah sticks her arms around your waist. Your eyes meet in the mirror and she smiles at you gently before putting kisses along your jaw. Of course it makes you shiver and Leah knows exactly what she’s doing.

"Is this what you want to do on our Valentine’s Day party instead of the movie?"

Leah smiles mischievously and puts a kiss right under your ear before answering you.

"You don’t have to be so attractive"

You get a new kiss before she takes off from you, laughing softly as you sulk when she does.

"As much I like undress you, we can’t now. We have an appointment somewhere"

"What do you mean?" You turn around and ask.

"Get dressed darling" Leah said as she walked out of the bathroom.

One hour and a half later, you find yourself outside the city of London, a place you’ve never been to before. You went beyond Leah’s birthplace, which you recognized very easily since she took you there several times, and since then, you are lost. Leah seems to be in an excellent mood, you put her playlist on and you have fun hearing her sing with all her voice the songs that pass on her Spotify.

The night falling very quickly at this time of year, you can only admire her in the light of the street lamps or headlights of the cars you cross, but if you were in the apartment of one or the other, you would have jumped on her to kiss her a long time agi.

"Have we arrived?" you ask when the blonde is parking the car.

"Yes, ma'am" she happily answers by turning off the engine.

You didn’t wait more and you don’t hesitate to take her face with both hands to kiss her. You are no longer afraid to give in to your outbursts of love for her now that you have realized that she was still very far from complaining about it.

Leah don’t wait to answer your kiss, leaning over her seat to deepen it. Her tongue soon caresses yours and you momentarily forget where you are.

"Keep it up and you won’t even see your surprise" Leah whispers after a few minutes.

She’s as out of breath as you are, and you need a few seconds to regain control. When you decide to get out of the car, the fresh air helps you recover your spirits and you find that apart from the building that stands in front of you, you are surrounded only by houses.

"Is this where you plan to take me to kill me?" you joke while the blonde grabs your arm.

She laughs softly as she hears you, opening the door of the establishment in which she planned her surprise.

"Are we gonna get a massage?" you ask with a smile, realizing you’re in a spa.

"In some ways"

You bow an inquisitive eyebrow but Leah is content to answer you with an innocent smile before approaching the reception. You follow her quietly, looking around with curiosity. You’ve never set foot in an institute like this before. The massages you get are usually from Arsenal physiotherapists. Or Leah, when you watch a movie.

Lost in your contemplation, you come back to yourself when Leah trains you with her, following the receptionist. She invites you to undress in the locker room and you turn to Leah with a surprised look when she left.

"Um Lee? I don’t have a swimsuit?"

"Don’t worry. I got it all planned Honey."

This is how you find yourself a few minutes later wearing a black swimsuit, bought and offered by Leah, in a jacuzzi with a glass of champagne in your hand. After drinking a bit, she sticks to you and you make her sit with pleasure on your knees.

"It’s better than a movie in front of the television, right?" smiled the blonde.

"Definitely"

You smile back and steal a kiss, since you can. You are in a private space, reserved for you for the evening. You learn that Leah knew this place through a friend of her mother’s and you are strangely relieved to learn that this is the first time she comes there too. A little bit of jealousy would been sad in such a successful evening.

"I really like this swimsuit" Leah smiles when you come out of the jacuzzi, remembering that you thought about taking your gift with you. "But I’m not sure I’ll let you carry it without me"

You roll your eyes for any answer, coming back with the box containing the jewel you found. You give it to her timidly, but the smile that illuminates her face when she discovers it is enough to know that she likes it.

When you ask what she meant by a "more or less" massage, Leah simply smiles at you and offers you to lie on the massage table in a corner of the room. You quickly understand that your masseuse will be nobody but Leah and that’s even better like this.

"If I had known you were so good, I would have asked you to massage me earlier" you mumble, half asleep.

"You know I’m good with my fingers"

You hear the smirk in her voice and you open an eye to look at her. You can only smile when you hear her laugh. You continue to observe her, wondering by what alignment of the stars you managed to find such a perfect girl. Who seems to ask nothing more than to accept you as you are, with whom you get along so well and who makes you so happy.

"What?" Leah asks after a few moments, realizing that you continue to look at her.

"Nothing. I’m just happy."

"Well I’m happy you’re happy" laughs softly the blonde.

"Are you? Happy?"

"More than ever my girl"

______________________________________________________________

For the next part I was thinking about some jealousy but if you have something else in my I will listen with pleasure :)

[hazelsmirrorball]

Christmas in November| Hazel Callahan 

Pairings: college! Hazel Callahan x Fem! reader Summary: Y/n takes Christmas seriously throwing Hazel and their friends off guard.  Warnings: English isn’t my first language so excuse any mistakes.  a/n:  Hey guys! This was inspired by my roommate and I putting up our three in our dorm today. Hope you enjoy it. 

Hazel Callahan knew her girlfriend loved Christmas long before they started dating. Sometimes Hazel thinks that Y/n loved Christmas more than her. She would prepare for Christmas in October, skipping the holiday like it was a gym day. She would plan everyone’s gifts and the theme she was going to decorate her house. When the clock read 12:00 am on November first Y/n would make Christmas her entire personality. Fairy lights, Christmas three, everything you could think of. Y/n was the type of person that when november 1st came around she would pull out the christmas sweaters and deer headbands. She had a different outfit for everyday all through the holidays. You would hear a neatly prepared Christmas playlist around her dorm room, her car or her loud headphones. This Christmas was different because now they lived together.

 Hazel, Josie, PJ and Y/n lived together in a small house Hazel had inherited. Before they had started living together all the girls had agreed that Y/n would let them decorate for Halloween and she could have Christmas. When they all made their agreements they thought that Y/n was going to decorate lowkey for Christmas due to the fact that all her Christmas things but Hazel should’ve known that the word lowkey wasn’t a part of Y/n’s vocabulary when it came to Christmas. 

Hazel turned on the corner of her normal route towards her home. PJ turned up the radio having Aux cord duty while Josie pulled the backseat window down to peek her head out the window. As Hazel pulled into their driveway as Josie threw herself out of the car taking in the view before her. Hazel quickly hit the brakes startled while PJ flinched forwards hitting her head on the front of the windshield. 

“What the fuck, Josie? Do you want to kill yourself? If you are, you can be more creative with it. Seriously throwing yourself out of a moving car. Insane.” PJ said as she forcefully opened the door rubbing her forehead to look at Josie struggling to get off the floor, her eyes never leaving the sky. PJ out of curiosity followed Josie's gaze as her mouth opened, shocked at the view in front of her. 

Hazel closed the door as she got out, her hand reached towards her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. A concerned look covered her face as she finally understood why Josie had thrown her body out of the car. 

“I thought you said you hid all those Christmas decorations” Josie said to PJ her eyes not leaving all the inflatable Christmas characters on their roof.  Santa, The Grinch, Rudolf, snowmen, the list goes on and on, where placed on their roof.  

“It literally looks like Santa puked in our fucking roof. If that’s the outside of our house, I don’t want to see the inside. Wait, is The Grinch fucking Santa Claus?” PJ exclaimed as the three girls turned their heads to the side in sync to get a better view. From the angle they were standing it looked like the Grinch was fucking Santa from behind. Great, neighbors were going to think they were perverts. Before they could even say anything else. Y.\/n quickly stood up tangled with Christmas lights while wearing her headphone with Hazel assumed it was blaring Christmas music. 

“Hey guys! You are back.  What do y’all think? I think I need more Christmas things” Y/n yelled due to how high she stood combined with her loud music. PJ thought about responding sarcastically to Y/n’s question, but a word didn’t leave her body as Hazel glared at her. 

“It looks wonderful, sweetheart. Why don’t you come down so you can see your masterpiece with us?” Hazel said in the same tone so she could hear her better. Y/n got closer to the edge so she could see her girlfriend better. Hazel got closer afraid she was going to slip and fall. 

“I need to finish hanging the lights. I can’t leave my work undone, Haze. Come up and help me out, please” Y/n exclaimed pulling her headphones done. Hazel looked around in an attempt to find a ladder near, but she didn’t see a thing, which quickly reminded her about the fact that they didn’t have a ladder. 

“Y/n, how did you get up there?” Josie asked, thinking the same thing as Hazel. Y/n shrugged attempting to get out of the Christmas lights. 

“I climbed up that tree over there. It’s not that hard come on help me so you can see a tour of the in.. shit” Y/n exclaimed falling face first off the roof. The three girls run up to her worriedly as Hazel shook in fear, Christmas was off to a great start. 

Thank you for reading!!

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congrats on 300 folower 🎉🎉🎉 can I request caramel lily it's totally ok if you can't lol btw love the way you write

Thanks so much for the req! This is SO much plot with a bit of porn, I'm not sure what got into me here! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sanji x Afab!Reader

WC: 2100 LOL

Prompt: “I’d eat 10 devil fruits if it meant I could see you naked.” 

— — 

It was Robin’s birthday, so you and the rest of the Straw Hats were enjoying an evening of drinking and celebrating. Empty bottles littered the dining room table and your captain was asleep and snoring on the deck, distended belly evident of his overindulgence. A few of your crew mates had returned to their quarters, the hour having grown late. You sat at the wooden table with Nami, Zoro, Franky and Robin playing cards while Sanji finished up dishes at the sink. You were all a bit tipsy, some more than others *cough* Zoro *cough* but it was clear the party was winding down. 

“I’m not tired yet. What if we made this game more interesting?” Robin made a suggestion and set her hand of cards down on the table. 

“*yawn* like a drinking game? I’m in.” Zoro takes another swig from his bottle of sake. 

“How about we put real money on the table? I know I’d kick your asses if there was actually something at stake.” Nami suggests. 

“I was actually thinking we could play strip poker.” Robin smirks as she makes the lewd proposal. 

*WOOOSH* 

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Sanji was somehow squeezed in between Nami and Robin on the dining room bench when he was all the way across the room at the sink not a second ago. 

“What an incredible idea, Robin! And it is your birthday after all, so we should all do whatever Robin suggests!” Sanji hurriedly spits out with hearts in his eyes, seemingly out of breath from rushing over. 

“Absolutely not. If you think for a second that I’m going to-“ Nami protests. 

“Sure, I’m in.” Zoro interrupts her. 

“Yeah I’m down I guess.” You chime in, wanting to keep the party going. You had known these people for years now, they were your best friends. Everyone has a body, who cares if they see you naked? What’s the worst that could happen. 

“Aww come on, bros! That’s like super unfair! I’ll obviously lose first! This game is rigged!” Franky exclaims while gesturing to his lack of clothing. 

“Rigged against who? Perverts?” Zoro cocks his head and smirks. 

“Whatever, I’m out. I have maintenance to do on the engine anyway.” Franky excuses himself and heads down into the belly of the ship to finish his tasks. 

“Come on, Nami. We can still put real money on it. Well… most of us could, anyway…” Robin smirks as she looks at Zoro hunched over his drink at the other end of the table. “Hey! I have… some.. cash.. somewhere…” Zoro looks in his pockets and inside his sash trying to find some semblance of money. 

Nami sighed. She pulls a small stack of berries out of her pocket and puts it on the table in front of Zoro. 

“I’ll add this to your tab. I’m going to bed, goodnight guys.” She turns back to Zoro. “Don’t lose it all at once, idiot.” 

After Nami exits, the four of you that remained settled your first bets and started the first round of cards. 

Much to Sanji’s dismay, he lost the first three hands and has already removed his tie, sport coat and belt while the two beautiful women before him were still fully clothed. Zoro lost the next few, casually shedding his shirt and boots. Eventually, after many more hands of cards and many more bottles of booze, the four of you are all minimally clothed. Robin was winning, still in her bra and skirt. You were sat in your bra and panties, happy that you chose a nicer looking pair to wear today. The boys were both left in their pants. 

“Alright, guesshh I’m out…” a very drunk Zoro sighs out as he puts his losing hand down on the table. Wordlessly he stands up and pulls his pants down to his ankles. 

“OH MY GOD MY EYES-“ Sanji throws his head down on the table to shield himself from the now fully nude swordsman. “ROBIN? Y/N? AM I BLIND?” Sanji continues to scream towards the floor.

“WHY don’t you wear underwear! That’s gross! I do our laundry!” You exclaim with wide eyes. 

“Hmm.” Robin hums. “Carpet does match the drapes.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Screw you guyshhh… I.. I’m going to… to lie downshh…” Zoro stumbles fully naked out of the dining room. 

“I’m going to make sure he makes it back to his room…” Robin stands up and dresses herself. Hands sprout from the floor and gather Zoro’s shed clothing and neatly folds it into a pile. Robin grabs the pile and heads towards the door. “… and make sure he doesn’t permanently traumatize Chopper in the process.” 

The door slammed closed and you and Sanji were left alone at opposite sides of the table. 

Sanji cleared his throat. 

“Shall we play on, angel?” 

You roll your eyes. You were up tons of berries, there was no reason for you to keep playing, but something urged you to keep going. 

“Bring it on, Mr. Cook.” You give him a wink and you could swear your saw a drop of blood spill from his nose. 

Perhaps distracted by your tipsy flirting, Sanji loses the next hand and stands up from the table to remove his slacks. He returns to his seat quickly but not quick enough for the large bulge in his briefs to go unnoticed. You smirk. You spot his hands trembling as Sanji pushes his money into the center of the table for the next hand. 

“Wow, Sanji, that’s the last of your berries! What if you lose? How are you going to afford cigarettes this week? It’s worth that much to you?” You laugh and take a sip of your drink. 

“It’s not the money, angel.” Sanji looks across the table at you with sparkling eyes. “I’d pay any cost. I’d eat 10 devil fruits if it meant I could see you naked.” You couldn’t help but smile at his desperation. 

“Well…” You say teasingly. “Let’s play then.” 

Your confidence betrays you. You lose the hand. 

“Shit!” You throw your losing hand on the table. You rub your eyes with your hand, realizing that you have very little left to remove. The air in the room is different from before. Earlier it had been four crew mates laughing and goofing around, now the air was heavy with tension. It was just you and Sanji, sitting across from each other in your underwear. He was handsome and you found yourself admiring his lithe, slim body. You couldn’t help yourself from becoming aroused. 

“Well, fair is fair.” You push the money back towards Sanji and move your hand behind your back to unhook your bra. Your other arm held the cups of your bra in place over your chest as you undid the clasp. You look across the table at Sanji and his mouth was hanging open in anticipation. You aren’t sure why, but you decide to tease him a bit. You use your arm holding your breasts to push them up and together before you let them fall out of your bra, bouncing dramatically. 

“Merde, y/n…” Sanji couldn’t pry his gaze from your bare tits. 

“We still have one more round to play, don’t we?” You pick up a new hand of cards and hold it with both hands. Doing this, you push your naked breasts together with your elbows, teasing the poor cook further. 

“I… Y-yes…” Sanji grabs another hand while shaking himself out of his stupor. 

You had four of a kind, there was no way you could lose. You were going to make off with all the money and Sanji’s dignity. 

“Royal Flush.” 

“What?!” You balk at the cards Sanji had laid on the table. It was his turn to lean back in his seat and smirk. You were speechless. You stared blankly at the table for a few moments before you slide out from your seat on the bench. Sanji watched you intently. 

You turn around so that your back is towards him. You hook both of your thumbs into the sides of your light pink panties. You bent forward at the hip, poking your ass closer to Sanji’s face. You slowly, dramatically peel your panties down your bottom, revealing your supple skin inch by inch. Sanji groans as your glistening cunt is revealed to him. You straighten your back and step out of your panties. You turn around. 

“Well, Sanji. Looks like you won. I guess you could take the money…” You slink towards him and swiftly hop onto his lap, straddling his trapped erection. You place both your hands on the side of his face to make him look up at you. You gently grind your bare pussy onto his throbbing crotch. 

“Or you could have me…” You purr at him, lips almost touching. 

Sanji takes no time to weigh his options before slamming his mouth onto yours. His hands fly into your hair, trying to force your lips impossibly closer to his. His tongue forces its needy way into your mouth. You kiss wildly for several minutes before you snake your hand down Sanji’s slender torso and lift your pelvis up so you can free his aching cock from its confines in his silk briefs. You give his member a few slow strokes before Sanji whimpers into your mouth desperately. 

“Mmm… Y/n.. please…” Sanji mutters. 

You pull away and kiss down his neck. 

“Please what, Mr. Cook? I can’t quite understand…” You seductively whisper out. You lick and suck his collarbone as you continue to pump his cock. 

“Need you…” Sanji is panting like he ran a marathon, he can’t handle your teasing anymore.

“Need me what, Sanji? Come on… tell me what you need…” You bring your hand that isn’t wrapped around his member up to his chest to tweak and squeeze at his nipple. Sanji lets out a high pitched moan. 

“Need to be inside you, please angel, let me feel you…” Sanji grips your hips suddenly and firmly. He could barely form a coherent sentence. You giggled. 

“Hm…. Fair is fair…” You smiled as you lifted your pelvis and aligned Sanji’s cock up with your hole before slowly sinking down him. The stretch overwhelmed you at first as you moved your hands up to grip at his shoulders tightly. 

“Shit, angel… so tight and wet…” Sanji buries his face in your breasts as you adjust your body to his length. 

“Fuck…” You moan softly as you begin to bounce softly on Sanji’s cock. He was thicker than expected, and the anticipation had your body alight with sensation. 

“Does it feel nice, my love? Is my cock good for you? Please tell me…” Sanji breaths out as you use him for your pleasure, trying to contain his own release. 

“Mmmh…” You let out a moan as you switch from bouncing to grinding yourself onto the blonde’s slim hips. “You feel so good inside me, baby… you’re doing so good for me…” You rub your clit into the base of his shaft as Sanji hits that sweet spot inside of you. You bring your gaze to look into his eyes. Those gorgeous ice-blue eyes stared up at you with what could only be described as adoration and amazement. You saw tears well in his glazed eyes, he was clearly so lost inside the pleasure that was your warm cunt. 

“So good…” You continued to praise him. “Gonna cum…” You throw your head back and grip Sanji’s shoulders tighter. 

“Please cum on me, angel, want to feel your pussy when you cum, please…” You hear Sanji’s muttering but you were too focused on reaching your peak. 

You shriek out a loud moan as your orgasm rolls through your body. You fall forward into Sanji’s neck and stop your movements as the spasms slow down. Sanji picks up the slack and pumps his hips upwards into yours, finally able to let go. 

“Fuck, love, I’m cumming!” Sanji slams your hips down onto his and works his load deep into your cunt with a loud groan. 

After you both catch your breath from the intense love-making session you had just experienced in the dining room, you slide yourself off of Sanji’s cock and sit onto the seat next to him. You put your head on his shoulder, feeling exhausted. 

Sanji reached for his pack of cigarettes, desperately needing one after his climax. He finds the pack empty. He looks at all the money that is now rightfully yours on the table. 

“So…. I might need to borrow a little cash this week…” 

[brawlstars-dragon-au]

Sketch dump time! A whole bunch of requests from the crazy ex-bird app

In Order: Maisie, Pam, Colette, Buster, Chester, Chuster ❤️🧡 (and a teeny Gus), Leon and Sandy (Leondy 💚💜), Bull, El Primo, and Mandy!

Extra notes about each sketch:

Maisie:

Her breath attack is a condensed foam material, similar to that of a fire extinguisher. Using a gas similar to a pressurized CO² (based on gas-based fire extinguishers!), she shoots it out at high speeds. These hits can potentially cause frostbite and even severe damage to the body if left unattended. She's quite powerful in this AU due to this ability 👀👀 being able to put out the fires and overpower another dragon's breath? Now THAT'S some queen moves right there! She can also simply spray out the foam substance at short range without that pressurized gas. This helps with more close range fire fighting work.

Her right wing and front leg were undeveloped, a disability she'd had since she hatched. However! With the help of mechanics, she uses these prosthetics to help her fly. Still gotta test out how to draw it to make sense, as well as sort out how it stays in place. I've been using inspiration from Toothless (HTTYD) and his tail that Hiccup made.

Pam:

Pam is a bulkier dragon, very much on the larger side of all of them. I'm at odds with myself to figure out whether ot not she'll have wings 🤔 so I had two copies there! Perhaps her wings may be a bit smaller if I do give her them.

Pam spits out molten magma that's stored up inside her as an attack. However, it can also be chunks of scrap metal that she stores up. Otherwise, it's just magma.

Though I didn't draw this, I want Pam to be very resilient to fire in general, as her species/family of dragon use their ability to spew this magma (technically Lava after ut leaves her body? I'll do more research on this...) in order to craft and shape metal. While other dragons need to spend some time to build up a fire hot enough, the Junker family line is able to do this much more easily. (Amber is a close second, though)

Her skin has the ability to crack and seep up lava out of it, potentially coating her body in this to give herself a temporary lava shield, something extremely hard to break through. (In the future, little Jessie may also be able to do this... however, Pam doesn't think she's ready at the moment and avoids the topic or any ideas of teaching her how.)

Colette:

Colette flies in a sort of funny way, twirling around and flapping her wings to maintain somewhat of a chaotic flight pattern. Think of a snake slithering through the sky, but with large wings and the grace of... a teenage dragon (not much, but it does work).

When she gets better at flying...pray and hope she isn't able to catch up to her favourite brawlers cause she isn't ever gonna let go of them 💀 It makes for a great attack, actually! Charging at enemies and coiling around them like a snake to prevent movement, like a big hug ❤️ she just loves everyone SO much 😍

Buster:

Finally kinda set on a design for this funky guy! He's a larger dragon (smaller than El Primo or Frank, but still definitely up there in size)

His wings never quite grew fully, so he wouldn't be able to fly 😔 however, that'll never stop him and his dreams of being a cool movie star 🧡🧡

Buster, at the heart of it, is an unstoppable force when he sets his mind to something. He'll charge in with the same ferocity as his favouite protagonists, rivalling the audacity and hard-headed nature of even Bull! All while doing so for his friends 💪 we love Buster in this AU frfr

Chester:

Chester always has theatrics when he flies. Flips, spins, and fun aerodynamic movements up in the sky! He's gotta compensate for his lack of speed compared to other wyverns after all, but he thinks he's pretty great 😎

Loved drawing this kinda unique pose tbh! That's what I loved with these drawings, I got to experiment without really thinking too much for em with how polished and clean that look. It was very fun! 🔥

Chuster ft. Gus❤️🧡:

We love some goofy gays here 🥹❤️🧡 I just wanted to let em have a little nuzzle + smooch! Dragons don't necessarily kiss, but little side boops like this are the equivalent of a cheek kiss.

Also, a little Gus on the side 🥹🥹 I love this sort of found family dynamic that have! Buster being the cool dad vibe/big bro to Gus, and then Buster being in a relationship with Chester so that he's also a cool dad too 😎 Gus loved these two guys from the very start, they're funny 🤭 never a boring day for these silly lads.

Leondy 💚💜:

My beloveds 🤲 I really do cherish the ship, as well as strong friendship Sandy and Leon have. (Btw in my HCs, Leon and Sandy are 13 & 14 respectively, just to clear that up!)

Sandy, I've mentioned a few times, is very inspired by Capybaras, so Leon finding one is just perfect 🤭 silly little deadpan face lads.

Bull:

BULLDOZERRRR- What a lad! Bull is inspired by- uh, Bulls! Great creatures, large bodies and thick necks to support those headstrong charges 🐂 I love making his posture all confident, strong steps to say, "Yeah. You TRY and stand up to me. I DARE you." Don't wanna mess with him on most days 🏃‍♀️💨💨

El Primo:

Still figuring out a full-body for El Primo, bit he's roughly the same size as Bull! (Maybe a bit bigger)

El Primo has got really small wings, similar to his El Dragón skin. Even his scales and horns are inspired by that mostly! Love when characters have preexisting dragon themed skins 🤭 makes it a lot easier to make ideas!

His "mask" is actually just body paint. He has similar paint on his body, really showing off the vibrant colours and persona he puts on for the crowds.

He WILL beat up his enemies into a pulp in matches. Thank goodness there's the gem powered regeneration and the respawn system in place 😭 I plan to give him a very strong body and tail, enough to support him when he needs to go on his hind legs and overpower his opponents. Buster is designed in a similar way as well!

Mandy:

Last but not least, the Queen of Candy herself. Not even the Dragon AU let's her escape fast food work 😔😔

Her super attack is purely a magical sugar-based rainbow blast, as shown in the sketch. Also, I'm now realizing that I forgot her red spots oml- No wonder she looks so empty 💀 uhh sorry about that, lads 😭 I'll redraw her one day to show off that glowing effect of her spots 🥹🥹

And that's all! Thank you for reading if you made it this far! Hopefully I can make more of these sketch dumps 🤭✨️ maybe take reqs from here too! We shall see. Take care y'all!

[luvrrszn]

this is how you fall in love

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW x FEM READER

summary just you and rooster, forever

warnings fluff fluff fluffy fluff not proofread !

a/n pls send me a man like rooster thanks

masterlist

the night bradley first met you, he knew one day you two would share a home filled with love and laughter.

despite the dim lighting of the bar and the crowd of people, you still catch bradley's attention from the very moment he steps into the bar. you're dancing with your best friend next to the jukebox, a grin plastered on your face. you're wearing a short red dress, the skirt of your dress swishing around you as you move to the rhythm to the music.

bradley can't help but stare. no one notices, except penny. she rests her forearms on the bar, leaning forward. she says, "she's single, you know. go shoot your shot." he smirks slightly, then turns to look at you, catching your gaze.

usually, when you're caught staring, you immediately look away. but with the help of a little liquid courage, you hold bradley's gaze, refusing to look away first. he stares at you and you stare back, even as he gets up from his seat at the bar and makes his way over to you.

"hey, gorgeous. i'm bradley, but everyone calls me rooster. can i buy you a drink?" he says, staring into your eyes. you'd be a fool not to accept. you were many things, but definitely not a fool.

"that would be wonderful." you tell him, smiling. you tell him your name and follow him to the bar.

throughout the course of the night, bradley learns your favourite colour, why you're in town, and most importantly your number.

"call me." you say, pressing your lips to his cheek after he drops you off at your doorstep that night. bradley replies with a "yes ma'am" and watches you fumble with your keys. his hands are stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he leans against his car, waiting for you to make it back into your apartment safely.

only when you lock the front door behind you does bradley drive off.

—

the very friday the next week, bradley takes you out for dinner. he knocks on your front door at 630pm sharp, with ample time for you to make it for your 7pm reservation.

with a reservation at one of the best restaurants in town, you made sure to dress your best. you wore a long black dress, which hugged your body in all the right places. your hair was pulled back into a sleek low bun, your lips painted dark red. you looked pretty, and most importantly, you felt pretty.

bradley lets out a low whistle as you do a little spin for him. your cheeks flush as smile softly. you hold onto his forearm for balance as you put on your heels, and the whole scene feels oddly domestic.

strangely enough, you didn't mind. you had only met bradley once before, but the two of you had talked throughout the week, and you already felt comfortable with him.

"what are you smiling so happily about?" bradley chuckles, snapping you out of whatever fantasies you were thinking about.

"nothing." you reply, but your grin remains on your face.

—

the moment you realised you were in love with bradley was around the time where you were 3 months into dating. it had starting raining during your lunch date, so to shield you from the rain, bradley put his zip-up hoodie on your shoulders and used his body to shield you from the rain.

once you made it to the car, he opened the car door for you, and closed it behind you like a true gentleman. then, he walked back to the sidewalk. curious, you stared in his direction. you watched as he bent down and started picking things up from the sidewalk and moving them into the trimmed grass next to it. he was picking up....worms?

five minutes later, he came back running to the car.

"sorry for keeping you waiting, babe."

you didn't really know what to say, so you just replied, "it's okay. the worms...looked like they needed help."

"thanks, i knew you'd understand." he grinned as he started the engine.

—

the moment you knew you were going to marry bradley occurred when you were at mav and penny's for dinner. you had dropped something on the floor, and bent down from your seat on a chair to pick it up. without batting an eye, bradley put his hand over the sharp corner of the table, while continuing to talk to mav.

that very moment, you knew that you were going to marry him someday. you knew he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. being with him felt natural, like it was the way things were meant to be.

no matter what happened in life, at some point the two of you were meant to argue over whose apartment to move into.

the two of you were meant to squabble over what colour the bathroom towels for your new shared apartment should be.

the two of you were meant to walk down the aisles of a supermarket to look for the nicest-smelling detergent.

the two of you were meant to squabble over things like the toilet seat being left up. (bradley learnt his lesson after that fight. the toilet seat was always left down. whatever you wanted, you got.)

the two of you were meant to sit at the dining table with cups of tea, going over your grocery list for the week.

and that was exactly what the rest of you life with bradley "rooster" bradshaw was like.

[harlowtales]

A fun night with friends gets tense as Jack x Reader fight and make up 😈 👶🏼

18 + drama,sex,language

It seems like with a new baby all you had done for weeks is breastfeed and sleep. Jack took time off but was busy with diaper changes and doing extra work around the house. Jack didn’t want any nannies. He stayed up at night with daughter Ella who insisted on waking up at 3AM to be entertained.

Both of you had been so consumed with baby Ella you were completely off the grid. Neither of you knew what day it was. Jack decided to have the guys over for a games night. That way he could have some fun and still be with you and Ella.

“Can you get that babe? I’m just changing Ella” Jack called out to you as you were making your famous appetizers and putting out chips and beer for the guys.

You opened the door to 10 guys looking at you with huge smiles. They were being all quiet to not disturb little Ella. One by one they creeped in silently and hugged you.

“Guys she’s awake. This isn’t a library you know.” You said as they got comfortable in the living room.

“Sweet cuz being quiet is too hard.” Cope said with a mouthful of chips already.

“What up bro!” Sunni greeted Jack loudly as he came into the room with little Ella over his shoulder.

“Dafuq you being so loud for bro?” Jack said furrowing his brow as he greeted his friends. Jack was the more serious one of the group that looked after everyone so seeing him as a dad being stern was fitting. Fatherhood suited him.

“Sorry man, y/n said we didn’t have to be so quiet.” Trap said as he cracked the seal on a beer.

Jack looked at you like you’d lost your mind. He was definitely more strict than you about what was acceptable around little Ella.

“Yo bruh, how we supposed to have a quiet game night?” 2Fo asked disappointed

“K well, YOU can settle Ella down and we’ll get a good night’s sleep.” Jack said grumpily.

“Ok hunny give her to me.” You said sensing the tension and stress in your boyfriend’s voice. “I have to feed her anyway.”

Jack carefully handed Ella over. He had become attached at the hip to her. Ella started to fuss and cling to Jack’s shirt with her tiny fingers as she was being pried away.

“Alright let go of daddy.” You said as you tried to settle her on your lap to feed her. You whipped out your breast and little Ella smelling food began to cry and paw at your boob until she aggressively latched on.

“Whoah! What in the Wild Kingdom?” Urban said shielding his eyes upon seeing a part of you he had never seen before. Jack rushed over with a baby blanket and covered the side Ella was on blissfully sucking.

“Calm down you guys. Breastfeeding is normal.” You said “It’s not sexual at all.”

“Babe nobody wants to see that. Correction, I don’t want my boys seeing my shit.” Jack said referring to your body.

You rolled your eyes and said “I’ll use the blanket but I’m not running and hiding to feed Ella especially in my own home.”

“Babe please take ladybug to the bedroom and feed her there. It’s going to get loud.” Jack said. He really just didn’t want anyone to see your boob and they were choosing their players in 2K. It was about to get real.

“No.” You said flatly irritating him even more and he felt disrespected in front of his friends.

“y/n…” Jack started saying

“I’m staying right here.” You said defiantly “I don’t need to hide to feed my baby.”

“Our baby.” Jack corrected

“Is my last name Harlow?” You shot back sassily. It was making you upset that Jack hadn’t asked you to marry him yet and people kept asking why. It was always in the back of your mind and came out in this unexpected way.

“No but Ella’s is.” Jack countered cooly. This made you start to cry and Ella broke off your nipple crying too.

“Not Ok Jack!” You said as you patted her tiny back.

“I’m sorry that was uncalled for.” He apologized. You both were under the stress of being new parents and new famous parents at that. It was a logistical nightmare to leave the condo to even take Ella and the puppy for a walk. Jack was used to moving around his hometown freely, but now needed to worry about being photographed constantly.

“But it’s how you feel let’s face it!” You said standing up and heading to the room with Ella. “You’re right we’ll go.”

Something inside of Jack panicked at you saying the words “we’ll go.” He didn’t ever want that to happen. “I’ll hold ladybug” Jack said reaching for his daughter.

“She’s hungry and would like to just eat in peace.” You said in a huff and walked towards the bedroom.

“That’s actually crazy because I wanna eat in peace too.” Kentucky Boy Tyler commented with his mouth full of popcorn.

“For the record y/n, we kinda came over to hang with you too.” Sunni said “And our niece.”

You stopped in your tracks. You weren’t aware how uncomfortable they were getting seeing you and Jack fight. “You…you did?” You said wiping your tears with the baby blanket.

“Yeah we can handle a bit a boob not like we never seen them before.” Phil said. Jack shot him a look. “I mean not your boobs which they’re great, I mean nothing wrong with seeing your boobs.”

“Just shut up bro.” Quiiso said to Phil hitting him in the arm. “Y/N sit down, sometimes my boy is an idiot.” He said glancing at Jack sharply as he played with the puppy.

“Sorry maybe I’m not as ready for company as I thought…or marriage.” You said which was a shot again at Jack.

“Y/N please!” Jack said half irritated, half very sorry. He took your hand to talk to you privately in the bedroom.

Everyone went back to the game. They weren’t going to let an argument ruin their night. Once in the room Jack took Ella and put her in her bassinet. You were still standing there glaring at him. He backed you into a wall and started kissing you. All the fatigue and tension you were feeling responded immediately pulling his head of curls in and your tongues locked. You craved his touch. It had been a few weeks since you looked into each other’s eyes. Jack started lifting up your shirt and feeling on your butt. “Can we fuck yet? Is it 6 weeks?” He said passionately.

“It’s past 6 weeks we just been so tired.” You said breathing heavy. Ella had fallen asleep with a belly full of milk. Seeing she was ok Jack started sucking on one of your breasts. You moaned from how sore they were from breastfeeding. He gulped down some milk and liked the taste. “Fuck you taste so good.” He said. He felt in your underwear for a sign you wanted him as much as he wanted you and pulled out wet fingers. He laid you on the bed to enter you missionary style.

“Jack…” you said breathlessly “Condoms…we don’t want another one so soon.”

Jack had started penetrating you and paused “Speak for yourself.” He said looking in your eyes. “Mrs. Harlow.”

That was music to your ears and you arched your back. Jack went all the way in. He steadied himself by getting you in a headlock position and repeatedly hit your core with an intensity that made your legs shake and you clawed at his back. “Ughh! Fuck Jack.” You said quietly as not to wake Ella. It took some getting used to his size again. He saw you wince a bit.

“You ok baby?” He said lovingly slowing his stroke. You nodded yes.

“Keep it there. This feels so good.” You said responding to his easier pace. He slid in and out of you with ease as you were so wet and ready.

“I’m…I’m sorry baby. I got so excited to be inside you.” He said between heavy breaths.

Jack knew he had to be quick with the guys outside and Ella waking up randomly. He picked up his thrust again and covered your mouth. You moaned but wanted to scream into the palm of his hand. He cupped your ass driving into your cushiony walls until he gushed. As he pulled out rich cream dripped down your inner thighs. He went back in to feel your warmth until he softened. His curls were dangling. As he stayed in you he kissed your forehead. “Don’t ever doubt I love you.” He whispered before finally pulling out with a moan. “Let’s get back out there.”

“How was the make up sex” Ace asked off-handedly as the both you went back into the living room. He was in the midst of dunking on Urban as Lebron James in the game.

Jack’s friends knew him too well. He slapped your ass a little too hard and said “incredible.”

“Oww!” You cried out and covered your mouth as you woke up the puppy and Ella at the same time. You and Jack exchanged looks. “I’ll get Ella. You get pups.” He said.

“I’m getting more beer.” Sunni said “This is going to be a long night.”

@itsyagirljaz @ride4harlow @heavyhitterheaux @jacks-daycare

[a-nthems]

Bites | JTK

jtk x f!reader

A/N: WOW hello! this is kinda short and totally self indulgent. it's based on a song i am kind of obsessed with right now. this will not be everyone’s cup of tea so please make sure to read the warnings. i have another much softer fic coming your way, so be on the lookout for that if you enjoy this one. <3

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, CHEATING!!, angst, hurt/kind of comfort, super toxic, this is not a healthy relationship/situation, mentions of drinking, sub(m) dom(f), slapping, orgasm control/denial, degradation, bondage, oral (f!receiving), pegging, fingering (m!receiving), lowkey hate sex, if i missed anything please let me know!!

PSA: i do NOT condone cheating/this kind of behavior. this is strictly fiction. 

You’re so angry it’s making it hard to see straight directly in front of you. Jake stands before you, trying his best to look as innocent as he possibly can, but your blurry vision won’t focus on anything but his neck. They’re clear as can be, the marks, even in the dim light of your kitchen this late at night. They’re still new, but bruising his skin in a way that makes you sick.

It’s not the first time you’ve been suspicious, but it is the first time you’ve seen the proof directly in front of you. You feel like you can’t breathe. Your stomach twists as he attempts to shield your view of the hickeys with his hand. He’s just come home from a night out. He was supposed to be with friends. Jake had told you not to wait up, but despite everything, you had because you missed him. 

“What the fuck?” Is all you can seem to manage, and you can feel the sob bubbling up in your chest as you try your hardest to contain your spiraling emotions. You feel hurt, betrayed even. 

“Baby, wait,” he starts, moving towards you. You immediately take a step back and you find your back pressed against the cool counter behind you. 

“No,” you bite out, “Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?” 

“Let me explain, please,” and he is pleading, “I’m sorry, my love. I love you, come on, just listen to me.”

The dam breaks, and you can only imagine how weak you look when your entire frame begins shaking, the sobs wracking through your body. He reaches a hand out to grab you, to comfort you as he often does, but you smack it away. He hisses, but takes the hint and places himself at a safe distance and watches as you fall apart.

It’s ridiculous, maybe, how blind you have been. “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” your friends had told you, but you brushed them off easily. He loved you. He wouldn’t do that to you. You had convinced yourself.

If only they could see you now. 

“Baby, listen to me. Breathe, just breathe,” he tries, “I love you, breathe, in and out, sweet girl.”

“Fuck you,” it’s more of a whisper than you intend it to be, and you slide down the counter and find a seat on the floor. Holding yourself up is out of the question, and you seek refuge in the cold tile against your skin. You need something to ground you. 

“Don’t you dare fucking say that to me right now,” you manage, slowly calming yourself down, “You don’t do that to someone you love.”

“I do love you,” he sighs, “I promise. I do.”

“Shut up,” you yell, “Please, just shut up,” this time, it’s softer, more of a desperate plea. Hearing his voice will do nothing to help the immense hurt you’re feeling. 

Jake offers a small nod, sighing loudly as if you’re the one being unreasonable. 

It takes a few minutes for the panic to settle, and eventually you’re still sat on the floor and looking ahead with a vacant stare, breathing heavily, a few stray tears still falling. 

“Talk,” you demand.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “I promise nothing else happened. We were drunk, she just started-”

“Don’t you dare put all the blame on someone else. Be a fucking grown up.” 

You can’t even look at him. 

“Okay,” he tries his best not to sound irritated and fails, “We were both drunk. Flirting, I suppose. I know it was wrong. She kissed me, but I did kiss her back. Obviously, she got carried away with them.”

“And?” 

“That’s it,” he frowns.

“So you go out, get drunk, and flirt with the first random pretty girl that comes onto you? Are you that fucking desperate? I’ve been here all night waiting for you to get home, to our home, and you’re out fucking some other girl?”

You get up from your spot on the floor, finally forcing yourself to look at him. To his credit, he looks hurt. Guilty, even. You try not to care.

“I didn’t fuck her,” is what he settles on.

“Great,” you laugh, “Did she fuck you, then? Suck you off in the bathroom maybe?”

He visibly winces at that, “You know better.” 

“I don’t think I do, Jake.”

“I wouldn’t-” he starts, but you’ve had enough already.

“Shut up. Now,” you move closer to him until he is now backed against the counter, “You wouldn’t what? Let someone else fuck you? That’s just for me, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes wide and hands gripping the edge of the marble so hard his knuckles are turning white.

“Oh, so anything else is up for grabs, hm? Letting other women mark up what’s mine, kiss what’s mine, touch what’s mine?”

“No, that’s not true, and you know it,” he’s still speaking quietly, scared of your sudden change in demeanor. 

“Again, I don’t know what’s true, apparently,” you step forward again, pressing yourself against him. He inhales sharply, looking down at how close you are, and fights the urge to reach out and grab your hips. 

Jake stays silent, locking eyes with you once again. 

“You’re mine. Maybe you need a reminder, hm?” 

You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. He immediately starts nodding, and you can feel him growing harder against your thigh as he tries not to grind against you. His mouth opens, but before he can get a word out, you grip his hair tightly in your fist and pull, effectively forcing his head back and giving you full access to his neck.

“Shut up,” you say sharply as he lets out a pained hiss, “I’ve heard enough of your shit.”

Your lips brush against his neck, against the marks she left a few hours earlier. He lets out a quiet whimper, which causes you to tighten your grip on his hair once again. 

“She really did a number on you, huh?” You speak lowly as you begin to kiss softly over the red blooming over his tan skin. His chest is heaving as you begin sucking over the expanse of the bruises, trying to erase her marks with your own.

Jake’s hips kick up against you when you bite him harshly which causes you to pull your mouth away and push a thigh between his own. He bites down on his lip, trying desperately not to make a sound as you instructed. 

“Bedroom,” is all you say, stepping back to let him follow your command. You watch, somewhat delighted, as he nods and makes his way out of the kitchen, throwing one last guilty glance over his shoulder before disappearing and making his way to your shared room.

You take a deep breath once he’s gone, and wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. You’re absolutely angry and hurt, which has somehow bled into arousal. Shaking your head at yourself, you decide to let him suffer a bit longer, and grab yourself a glass of water. 

Taking a sip, you stare at your reflection in the window in front of the sink and frown. Your mascara has run down your face, and the hurt is written all over your expression. Looking down at your hand, you realize you’ve been shaking this whole time.

The anger hits you once again, and the glass slips from your hand, falling to the floor with a loud shatter. It only serves as a reminder of how broken you yourself feel.

Running a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh and decide to leave the glass for later cleanup. You wipe the mascara off of your face to the best of your ability before turning to make your way to the bedroom.

Pushing open the door, you find Jake laying back on the bed only in his boxers and palming himself through them. He immediately pulls his hand away from himself when you enter, looking at you with wide eyes as if to apologize.

“So fucking desperate, Jake,” you shake your head at him, “Can’t even wait five minutes for me.”

His mouth opens then quickly shuts again, remembering your earlier demand for silence. Ignoring him, you dig through one of the drawers of your dresser. He whines softly when you turn around and show what you grabbed. You toss the strap onto the bed next to him, watching as he eyes it desperately. 

“Sit up,” you order, and he complies.

“You remember the safe word?” You ask softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

He nods, but you ask for confirmation, “You can say it.”

“Red,” he breathes out.

You almost smile. “I think you owe me, baby,” you sigh, “Getting me all worked up, hurting me like that. Make me feel good, then I’ll think about you, hm?”

He nods, moving to grab your hips to flip you onto the bed when you give him a pointed look. He retreats, and you instruct him to lay back on the bed once again. 

Getting up from the bed, you can tell he’s confused. You come back holding a piece of simple black rope, and then he understands. Jake brings his hands out in front of him, offering them to you before you even get the chance to ask.

You wrap the rope around his wrists and tie it, pulling it so it’s snug against him, but not uncomfortably tight. “Above your head,” you order.

As he does what you’ve asked of him, you take the time to remove your shirt and shorts, leaving both your bra and panties on. Moving to straddle his hips, he licks his lips at the sight of you.

Running your hands down his chest, you watch as he shivers at your touch, muscles twitching. 

“You’re so hard, baby,” you hum, grinding your hips down just once, “Did she not do a good job? Didn’t get you off?”

Jake shakes his head no, “You can answer me,” you decide, “Only if I ask you a question.”

“Okay,” he gasps out as you reach up to grab his neck. Squeezing lightly, you watch as his mouth drops open and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip.

“So? She really didn’t get you off?” You grind against him again.

He fights to keep his breath steady enough to respond, “I told you she didn’t, love.”

“Did you get her off instead? Bend her over the dirty bathroom sink and eat her out? Did she taste good? As good as me?” You question him.

“I didn’t, I promise, I wouldn’t. Only want you, I’m sorry,” he rambles.

“Stop apologizing if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it, baby, I do,” he begs.

You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off of him to slide your panties down your thighs. His fingers twitch where they rest above his head, wanting to reach down and touch you.

“Make me cum,” is all you say before shifting up the bed over him so your cunt is directly above his face. He licks his lips again and nods frantically.

You finally let yourself fall down against him, thighs sitting on either side of his head. You grab his hands with one of yours, “If you need a break squeeze me three times. Do it now so I know you understand,” you sigh out as he drags his tongue across your slit and up to your swollen clit. He squeezes your hand three times, and you squeeze his hand back just once to confirm you felt it.

He swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking it into his plush mouth and humming against you lightly. He knows exactly how to make you fall apart, especially with his mouth. He goes down on you anytime he has the chance. 

“Feels good,” you offer him just the smallest amount of praise, before taking action and grinding yourself against his tongue. You look down to find him watching you closely, eyes wide and desperate. He’s moaning into you at the taste, begging for more without words. The way he looks when he’s eating you out never fails to make you even more desperate.

He sucks your swollen bud into his mouth again, swirling over and over it with his tongue, just like he knows you like. He’s playing dirty, trying to get you to cum quickly. You choke on a moan, eyes rolling back in your head as you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. 

“Fuck, Jake, I’m gonna cum,” you gasp out.

He hums against you, working his tongue faster, eyes still locked on yours, desperately trying to get you there. You slam head on into your orgasm, crying out his name, tightening your grip on his hand as you feel the pleasure coursing through your body.

He lets you ride it out, still licking against you softly and rubbing his thumb softly against your hand above him. You don’t fall off of him until your thighs are shaking. His hair is messy, face covered in your release, and soft whines are trilling off his tongue. 

“Don’t think that means you’re forgiven,” you mumble. You reach up to grab his face, forcing him to look at you, “You’re lucky I even let you taste me. You don’t deserve it.”

“I know,” he whispers out, “Thank you.”

You let go of his face, instead resting your hand flat against his cheek. He knows you well enough to know what’s coming, and braces for the impact.

“Give me a color.”

“Green,” his reply is breathy, “I deserve it. Hit me, I know you want to.”

“Yeah, you do fucking deserve it.” 

Your palm comes in contact with his cheek, a smack noise sounding throughout the room, followed by a groan from Jake. “Cannot believe you,” you speak again. Leaning down, you connect your lips for the first time since he came home. He whines into your mouth, licking into you desperately.

“I know, I’m sorry, baby, please. More,” he whispers against your lips. He sounds more desperate than you can ever remember him being.

“You’ll get what I want to give you,” you say plainly, moving from your place on his hips to between his legs. He lets you pull his boxers off of him, hands still in their place on the pillow above him.

His cock slaps against his stomach, hard and leaking, already beginning to leave a pool of precum on his soft skin.

You spit into your hand, taking hold of him and stroking him as lightly as you can manage just once. His knees fall open when your hand moves further down his thigh, and you reach to your nightstand to grab the bottle of lube that resides there. 

——

He’s moaning breathlessly as you work him open, cock twitching where it lays against his soft stomach. 

“Please, I need it,” he begs. 

“I told you, you get what I fucking give you,” you pull your fingers out and he whines at the loss.

“I’m sorry. Sorry, baby. I’ll listen. Promise.”

“Yeah, you will.”

His chest is heaving, you’ve taken your time working him up, and you can see how desperate he is. His eyes keep fluttering shut and he’s covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Fastening the strap around your hips in record time, you lean over him again, “You want this?”

“Please,” he nods, “Ruin me. I deserve it, please.”

“God, I hate you,” you bite out as you line yourself up and push inside of him in one quick thrust, “but I fucking love you.”

“I love you, baby. So much,” he whines out, already overstimulated from the constant teasing and feeling of being full, “Feels so good, already. Please.”

“Yeah? Feels good? Then why do you need others?” You can’t help it. Adjusting your grip on his hips, you pull him towards you, smiling to yourself when he gasps out a whimper at how deep you are. 

“I don’t, I swear. I’m sorry baby,” you pick up your pace, and a broken moan of your name sounds throughout your bedroom, “Sorry, sorry, ‘M sorry,” he rambles on.

“Stop fucking apologizing,” you bring your hand to swat at his cheek once again. He takes it, a gasped moan flying out of his mouth.

“Okay, okay. More. Please more,” he says through a string of moans.

“Was she as good as me? Hm, Jakey? Are you sure you did not let her fuck you like you let me?” 

“No,” he shakes his head, “Just want you, baby, only you.”

“You’re fucking mine,” another slap across his cheek, he bites out a desperate groan, nodding his head, “No one will fuck you like I can.”

“Mhm,” he gasps through a moan, “No one, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you cut through his apology with a sharp thrust, his back arching into you.

You reach between the two of you to grab his cock, starting to stroke him in time with your thrusts. He’s whining, little “uh” sounds escaping his open mouth everytime you thrust into him.

“Baby, ‘m close,” he warns you, “Gonna cum.”

“No,” you say as you take your hand away from his leaking cock and slow you thrusts down until you’re stopped, still fully inside of him.

He whines, his hands that have so far stayed in place above him coming down in an attempt to grab you. You take hold of his wrists before he makes contact, pushing them back against the bed and holding them there. 

“Keep going,” he begs, “Please, gorgeous. I need it, I need to cum.”

“Tell me what you did, maybe I’ll let you cum.” You lay out a compromise, grinding your hips against him, pushing the strap deeper inside of him.

Jake whimpers, eyes rolling back. “I told you already, I told you everything.” As angry as you are, he looks delicious. 

“I want details, Jake. How did you touch her? How did she touch you? What did you say to her? You’re not fucking cumming until you tell me everything.”

“No,” he gasps out, “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.” You pull all the way out only to fuck back into him once.

He whines, tossing his head to the side so he does not have to look at you when he admits, “She was on my lap,” he sounds ashamed, as he should be, “Kissing me. My neck, my lips. My hands were on her waist, hers were all over me, I don’t remember.”

“Like hell you don’t remember,” you grab ahold of his chin, forcing him to look at you, “What did you say to her?”

“I was drunk,” is all he offers you, letting his eyes slip shut.

“Look at me,” you plead, “please.”

He takes a breath and opens his eyes, “Don’t do this.”

“You did this,” you whisper.

Before he gets a chance to respond, you begin fucking him hard and fast again, watching his eyes roll back. 

“Baby, slow down. If you don’t I’m gonna cum,” he warns.

“Then you better start talking,” you laugh, despite how unfunny it is, “I think I made myself clear.”

“I didn’t say much,” he whines.

“Liar. You have a dirty fucking mouth. I know you better than that.”

You continue your brutal pace, watching as he struggles to hold himself together and collect his thoughts.

“I can’t, you need to slow down.”

You stop again, looking at him expectantly.

“I told her she was pretty. That I wanted her, but it wasn’t true. I promise, baby. None of it was true.”

“Fuck you,” is all you can manage, the anger still bleeding into the desire to absolutely ruin him. You pick up your pace once again, taking a hold on his neck and using your other hand to stroke him.

“Fuck me,” he gasps out from your grip around his throat, “Ruin me.”

“I will,” you promise, stroking him faster.

You feel him twitch in your hand, his mouth falling open and moans falling out with every thrust of your hips, “I’m gonna cum, pretty girl.”

“Wait,” you force him to look at you again, “I’ll tell you when you can.”

“I can’t wait, baby.”

“Fucking wait,” you slap him again, and he lets a high pitched whine as his thighs begin shaking around you.

“I’m sorry baby, please,” you watch as a tear falls from his eye, “I can’t hold it, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve to feel this good.”

“I know,” he cries out, a moan following, “You’re right, baby, I know. Hit me again. Please, you want to. I want you to,” he begs. 

You let out a small groan, reaching up to place a smack across his cheek once again. You’re so worked up, despite him getting you off only a bit earlier. The friction of the strap rubs against your swollen clit with each thrust, but it is nowhere near enough to make you cum again. 

“Baby,” he pulls you out of your own desperate thoughts, “Baby, fuck, baby. Please, I’m gonna cum, please.”

He’s shaking still, head thrashing back and forth against the pillow as he tries to follow your direction. 

“No,” you whine, grabbing his chin one again and forcing eye contact. 

“I can’t look at you,” his eyes close again, “Too much, too pretty, baby, please,” you slap him again and his eyes fly open, getting the hint. “Oh god,” he moans out as his eyes lock onto your own. 

“Cum,” you finally give him permission, grabbing at his hands above him.

“Fuck, thank you,” he wheezes as his orgasm hits him head on, white streaking across his stomach and onto your hand, stealing the air from his lungs, “Thank you, sweet girl. I love you,” he continues to mumble sweet nothings into the air as he comes down from his high.

You don’t reply other than a quick, “You’re welcome,” and slowly pull out. He hisses at the loss, then realizes your hand is still holding his own and gives you a squeeze. 

“Let me make you feel good,” he offers, “I can do it. Anything for you, please.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he whispers, squeezing your hand tighter.

“I wonder why,” you hum, untying his wrists and beginning to move off of him.

His hands fly to your waist, holding you close to him. You give in easily, and allow him to flip the two of you over and settle in his favorite spot - between your thighs. He begins leaving light kisses on the inside of them, and just before he begins to go down on you again, he whispers softly,  “I love you.”

And you almost believe him.

Taglist: @lyndz2names

[d4rkhold]

blood set ablaze

Marilyn Thornhill x Fem!Reader

OVERVIEW:  After studying late into the night at the library and completely losing track of time, you realise you might have to wait a very long time to catch a train ride home. Luckily, your botanical professor, Marilyn Thornhill, also appears to still be on campus and offers you a ride home. Her act of kindness poses a question to you: what could you ever do to thank her?

WORD COUNT: 6.5k

WARNINGS: (18+ NSFW) heavy smut, praise kink, sub!reader, dom!marilyn, legal age gap, alternate universe - college/university, oral sex, fingering, orgasm denial, blood

A/N: After many, many months - I am finally back (with a very nasty fic)! I apologise for the long period of radio silence; life was quite busy these past few months and I completely forgot I had this piece in the drafts. Nevertheless, enjoy!

Your eyes widen at the spectacle in front of you; the auburn-haired woman’s eyes are fully blown, and her tongue darts out to lick at the blood on her lips. Something equally sinister and ravenous twists in your stomach, and you can’t tell if it’s a good feeling or not, but you don’t have time to ponder the odd fervour that starts to contaminate your bloodstream because she suddenly surges in for another kiss, devouring you all over again.

All you can do is close your eyes and let your mouth find hers for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

— — — 

People say they like winter, but when it rolls around to the season of frost coating the tips of grass and shorter days of sunlight, they suddenly wish it was summer – or, more precisely, that they didn’t have to trudge through the freezing rain at night.

As you walk through campus, your hands are shoved in your coat pockets, clutching tightly at the inner fabric to stay warm. You were so caught up with your studies in the library that you didn’t realise how late it had become and how the stars had replaced the setting sun so quickly. 

The rain isn’t too heavy, but the air is a bit too cold for your liking. You had also forgotten to bring an umbrella and a warmer coat when you left your place, putting all your trust into the weather app on your phone – which had stated there would only be light rain in the afternoon and clear skies afterwards. Apparently, the weather decided to change its mind. 

On another note, it’s also the beginning of finals season, and you’ve been absolutely stressed from head to toe, leading to your nose being stuck in various textbooks during most of the day, every day. While your friends keep up with a balanced life, seamlessly juggling their social lives and academia, you find yourself wholly fixated on your studies, determined that you’ll be able to perform at your very best when you have to sit your exams.

You stop for a second to pull out your phone. The trains from Jericho frequently run during peak hours, such as, in the afternoon and in the evening when people finish work. But right now, it’s late at night, and you’re almost sure you’ll have to wait at least forty-five minutes for a ride home. 

Now it’s suddenly hitting you, that regret of deciding to stay so long in the library to study when you could've done all your work at home. The dampness of your hair, the shivering of your body, and the formidable darkness of the night sky fuel the feeling of regret so horribly well that it makes you mutter out an annoyed ‘fuck’ from your lips.

It doesn’t help that most of the trees on campus are terribly monstrous and old, having existed here way before the academy was even built. They crane over both sides of the large and endless cobble footpath, creating a scene that looks like something straight out of a gothic horror movie. 

The trees sway with the gentle wind and rain, causing branches to prod and clip at adjacent ones. You stand on the path under a leafless tree with your left hand shielding your phone from the rain, checking for the train timetable. 

You’re too busy scrolling on your phone and lost in thought to hear the sound of clicking footsteps in the rain approaching you from behind. It’s not until you stop feeling the droplets of rain hit your face, and a strange earthy saccharine scent fills your senses that you look up from your phone.

“Behind you,” a cheery voice muses out through the rain pattering on cobblestones. The tone of voice is a little ironic, considering how unsavoury the current weather is.

You turn around on the balls of your feet to meet a familiar face – perhaps a little too familiar – for you have tried to memorise the details of her face during lectures and put in extra hours of study to ensure you were always on top of things for that paper. Sometimes, you would sit at your desk in the middle of a study session at home and think of her and nothing else; thoughts of plant anatomy would digress into ones filled with an auburn-haired woman in denim overalls and hazel eyes that glowed behind wide-rimmed glasses. 

Marilyn Thornhill is your botany professor, and somehow she’s standing here with you in the dark, umbrella in one hand, shielding you both from the rain with an alluring smile on her lips. 

She’s always cheerful and passionate about everything. You can’t help but feel like a moth to a flame when she’s around; your eyes relentlessly follow her hand gestures while she speaks, drawn to her persistent positivity that you wished you had on your bad days.

“Professor Thornhill! Oh- hi!” Your fingers absentmindedly turn off your phone in a moment of surprise. “What are you still doing here?” 

Marilyn smiles warmly, despite the chilly air causing ears and fingertips to go cold. “I was going to ask you the same question, sweetheart.” She pushes up the glasses sitting on her nose bridge. “I was just marking papers in my office and running errands for Headmaster Weems.” 

The pet name sends a slight wave of heat across your collarbones, but you convince yourself it’s just your body’s physiological response to the cold. “Oh, cool,” you simply reply, afraid something stupid will slip from your lips.

“And how about you, Y/N?” She steps a little closer towards you to ensure her umbrella is keeping you dry. “I don’t know of any extracurriculars today that run until late,” she says lightly with a questionable look in her gaze.

“Oh, I was just studying in the library, and I kind of lost track of time,” you sheepishly smile and turn on your phone to check the time before turning it off again. 

She starts to snake an arm around the small of your back, and you suddenly find yourself walking with her in the rain. Your feet seem to be on autopilot as they walk in sync with her, the sound of two pairs of shoes clicking against the wet pavement, echoing off into the distance. 

Your body is starting to register the realness of her touch as the heart in your chest races slightly faster than usual. You don’t know exactly where the two of you are going, but you know you’re content with being in the older woman's presence.

It makes you wonder: when did you start crushing on the older woman? Was it when you first laid eyes on her during your first botany lecture? Was it during your laboratory sessions in the greenhouse where she’d squeeze your shoulder in encouragement when you were stuck with an experiment? Or was it, perhaps, when you would ask her questions after lectures, and she would look at you with a twinkle in her eyes, pleased that you were so invested in botany? 

Marilyn gently retracts her arm from your shoulder and breaks the silence. “Do you have a ride home? It’s terribly late, and I wouldn’t want you going home all by yourself.”

Your heart is about to jump out of your chest at her considerate words. “Oh, I’ll be okay; I’ve got a train to catch at the station that’s scheduled to depart soon.” you smile meekly at her, uncertain about the truth of your own words. 

She frowns at you, clearly unamused. “I don’t know how I feel about you walking alone to the station at night and in the pouring rain.” She stops walking and puts a hand on her hips. “Why don’t you let me drive you home?”

You laugh nervously. “Professor Thornhill, I don’t want to be a hassle for you,” you momentarily look down at your shoes and back up at her. “I’ll be fine. I’ve taken the train home many times at night before.” 

The woman before you tilts her head disapprovingly, clearly not having any of it. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s no hassle at all. It’s important that my students get home safely,” she says with a hint of firmness in her tone. 

You contemplate her words for a moment. “Okay, if you say so.” You give her an appreciative smile, and she gives one back and nods in acknowledgement.

You follow her to the staff car park, occasionally making small talk with the older woman about the weather, how lectures were today, and plans for the weekend. It’s no surprise when you find out that she’s planning to renovate her garden and read a biography about a famous horticulturist. You imagine her garden to be filled with life: exotic winter flowers and plants covering the place, a variety of colours spilling everywhere.

The two of you arrive at her car – a purple Volkswagen Beetle. She unlocks it, allowing you to get inside and sit yourself down. 

You fiddle with your fingers in the passenger seat of her car while your botany professor checks her mirrors. She notices your movements in her peripheral vision and asks what’s the matter.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” She doesn’t turn to look at you, but you find yourself immediately ceasing your movements. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first. 

“Sorry,” you say, clearing your throat. “My hands are just a little bit numb from the cold, that’s all,” you lie.

Truthfully, you’re nervous about being alone and in such close proximity with the auburn-haired woman. You’ve always admired her from afar, yet here you are now, just an arm's length away from her, sitting in her car. 

Marilyn turns and unexpectedly goes to clasp her hands around your own hands. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her soft, warm fingers wrap around yours, gently caressing your knuckles. Your mind is quick and cruel, conjuring an image of her hands situated around something else…

… The base of your neck, cradling it gently. Her fingers move to trace invisible lines from your jawline to your throat. Without wasting any time, her free hand begins to squeeze at your trachea gently, and you feel your airways constrict slightly. With wide eyes, you watch as she surges forward, about to replenish your oxygen with a kiss-

Your humiliating imagination doesn’t last long as you’re jerked back into reality by her voice. 

“Oh dear,” she pouts sympathetically. “You’re like ice! Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in no time so you can get all warmed up.”

And it’s over, just like that. She retracts her hands from yours and starts the ignition of her car. You find yourself missing her touch, biting the inside of your cheeks as you try to ignore a peculiar feeling beginning to brew within your chest.  

You give her directions to your place as she drives through the gates of the academy. Your elbow rests on the car door, supporting your chin as you stare out the window, watching the beads of rain run down the surface. Professor Thornhill has the radio playing at a low volume, where you can make out the sound of a violin and a piano chiming in a gentle rhythm – a classical piece you’ve never heard of before. 

“I never thought you’d be the type to listen to the orchestra,” you say with a hint of curiosity, eyes still following the droplets of rain. 

You’re too busy looking out the window to see the smirk that’s made its way onto the auburn-haired woman’s mouth. 

“I enjoy listening to a lot of things,” she hums.

— — —

“Well,” she says. You turn to look at the woman in the driver’s seat as she announces, “We’re finally here.” 

You resist the urge to tuck a stray piece of hair dangling near your eyes behind your ear. For a moment, the low sound of the car engine humming away is the only noise that fills the silence as the two of you sit, gazing off into the distance of the dimly lit street. 

“Thank you so much for driving me home. I really appreciate it, Professor Thornhill,” you say, turning your head to offer her a grateful smile. 

She gazes back at you through her glasses, almost as if she’s trying to study you. Her eyes roam – and she doesn’t hide the fact that she’s doing it. When her eyes drop to your lips for a split second, your brain doesn’t know if it’s your imagination or not.

She’s pushing her glasses up and looking right at you again, but this time with an indecipherable look. 

“It was no problem, sweetheart,” she says in a low gentle voice. “I’m satisfied that I definitely know you’re home safely and in one piece.” 

Your heart warms – truly grateful that she took the time and consideration to take you home. You’re so grateful that you don’t realise you’re suddenly spilling offers from your lips.

“Do– do you maybe want to just come inside for a glass of water or use the bathroom before you drive back to your place?” Your heart hammers against your rib cage after the words leave your lips. 

She lets out a light, appreciative laugh. “Oh, Y/N… How kind of you, but it’s quite late, and I don’t want to disrupt you from getting a good night’s rest.”

You finally tuck the loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, you wouldn’t be interfering with anything, and honestly, it’s the least I can do to repay you for taking me home.” 

Marilyn’s fingers find her keys in the ignition, and in one movement, the car’s engine stops. “You are sweet,” she pauses. “I won’t stay for long then.” 

The two of you climb out of her car, and you wait as she locks it. You begin to lead the way to the entrance of your place, hearing the sound of her footsteps following closely from behind. 

For some reason, there's a feeling in your gut that her eyes are burning into your back as you start to unlock your front door, yet you don’t know for sure. 

You don’t even know what you’re trying to achieve right now, inviting the professor you have a crush on into your place.

When you step inside and hold the door open for her, it earns you a smile that almost seems like a smirk, causing you to blush briefly. 

Her eyes roam the interior of your place, admiring how cosy it looks. “What a lovely place you have, Y/N. Do you live by yourself?”

You smile nervously. “Thanks, it was a team effort,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “I’m currently living with two other people. I think they’re at a party right now or something.” 

She hums in response, and you watch as she goes to adjust her glasses. “That’s lovely. Why aren’t you at the party with them?” 

“I thought I would leave partying until after exams are over and focus on studying.”

“Good girl.”

Your throat almost instantaneously goes dry at the praise. God. Nobody will ever understand the effect this woman has on you. How simple words that leave her lips can cause your heart to quicken; how she makes you feel like melting into a puddle with the quirk of a lip. Not even you will ever understand how she makes you feel this way. 

Not wanting the older woman to notice the state you’ve fallen into, you suddenly mention, “Oh, the bathroom is just down the hall and to the left if you need it.” 

She squeezes your bicep as a “thanks” before leaving you alone. You let out a breath – almost like a sigh – as the ghost of her touch lingers on your arm, and her sultry voice echoes in the forefront of your mind. 

You go to grab two glasses, fill them up with water and settle them down on the kitchen bench as you await for her to return. 

Hmm, you mumble to yourself. Your eyes dart to the couch and the coffee table across the room. You think it might be more comfortable for the two of you to sit there instead of standing at the kitchen island. It wouldn’t be very nice for your guest to remain on her feet, considering she must be tired from standing and pacing back and forth during her lectures today.

As you pick up the glasses and begin to walk over to the couch, you suddenly crash into something, causing you to drop one of the glasses onto the floor. Countless shards of glass scatter on impact, water droplets splash up onto your pants and pool onto the floor. 

Your eyes widen in shock when you realise you’ve just crashed into Marilyn as she was returning from the bathroom. 

“Professor Thornhill– oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?!”

You internally curse yourself at your clumsiness. It makes you want to dig your own grave right there on your kitchen floor. 

The older woman, though slightly taken aback by the sudden collision, remains calm, her face softening at the look of concern on your face. 

“It’s alright, Y/N. I’m perfectly fine,” she says with a reassuring smile. “Are you okay?” 

You look up at her and lock eyes, searching for any sign of distress. She doesn’t show any visible irritation – or anything of the sort – but your concern for the woman persists, guilt simmering in your throat at your own idiocy.

Marilyn notices your worry and goes to reach out a comforting hand, squeezing your arm. “Truly, I’m alright. I’m unharmed; please don’t worry.” 

You finally release a breath of slight relief, convinced that’s alright. “Okay,” you say gently. 

The floor is a mess: bits of broken glass and a pool of water where the two of you stand. Luckily, your clothes or hers aren’t too wet, just some splotches of water here and there. You decide to offer her if she wants a towel anyway. 

“Do you want a towel? I don’t want you to feel cold or anything.”

“I’m not too wet; it’s alright.” Your stomach shifts at her words as you think about something else entirely. “Thank you, though.”

The other glass is in your hands, still intact from the accident but is now almost empty. You bend down and place it on the floor and begin to pick up the large pieces of broken glass, not wanting to cause any more accidents. 

“You can sit down if you like, and I’ll get you another glass of water,” you say from the floor as you collect the shards. “I’m just going to clean this up quickly.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she lightly laughs and looks down at you. “I won’t let you clean this up by yourself.”

“Please, don’t worry! It’s absolutely fine- shit!” You let go of a piece of glass you had just picked up, blood suddenly oozing from a newly-formed cut on your fingers.

A look of worry is all over the older woman’s face, and she immediately bends down to your level on the floor. “Oh dear, are you alright?”

You hold out your bloodied hand before you and watch as she peers at your injury through her glasses before taking your hand into her own. She delicately turns your hand around to examine the severity of your injury. 

“It just stings a little… I’ll be alright; I have bandages and antiseptic somewhere in the cupboard,” you nervously chuckle as you notice that she’s still holding onto your hand. 

For some reason, you look at her eyes and see they’re dilating. Both of you are on the floor with hardly any distance between the two of you, with her holding your bleeding hand and you on your knees. Most people would not think twice about a situation like this, but for you, it sends your heart marching, becoming progressively quicker. 

She flicks her gaze up at you. The abruptness of the action makes you freeze like a deer in headlights, feeling like you’ve just been caught doing something wrong.

You suddenly realise what she begins to do, and it threatens to spin your head completely off your shoulders, like a screw coming off a hinge. 

She has the palm of your hand flat and open and goes to dip her head while you watch in shock as she begins to lick a stripe of blood from your fingers. You sit and stare as your chest rises and falls, feeling dizzy from the sight before you. 

She looks at you as she does it. Not for a single second does she look away, causing you to feel paralysed in place. You swear that you’re dreaming because this can’t be real. 

Unexpectedly, you feel a rush of heat sink to the bottom of your stomach, and you swallow thickly – a revelation of your own self-semblance slipping through your fingertips second by second. Her gesture feels like the strike of a match against the box. It’s bold. It’s so riveting. You don’t know what’s happening to you. You don’t know what she’s doing to you.  

This has to be some sort of ridiculous dream you’re having right now.

“Fuck,” you can’t help but mutter out loud. She hums when she hears the profanity escape from your lips, encouraging her even more because now she’s taking your forefinger and middle finger into her mouth, right up to your knuckles. 

You feel her tongue swirl around your digits and over the cut caused by the broken glass. A wave of arousal washes over you, making you close your eyes and breathe deeply. You don’t say a single word – you’re too lost for words. Even if you tried saying something, it’d probably come out incoherent.

Without warning, you feel her mouth retract from your fingers, prompting you to open your eyes. She leans forward, slowly licking her lips and chuckling at the wide-eyed expression on your face. 

“Why don’t we continue this somewhere else, sweetheart?” Her voice husks in the small space between the two of you. “We can deal with the mess later. It won’t be going anywhere.”

She stands up and holds out a hand to you. You take it, and she pulls you up from the ground. Your feet begin scrambling backwards to the couch, and she follows you at a close distance, almost like a fox backing her prey into a corner with nowhere to run to. 

You let her push you down, relishing in the way your back hits the soft material of the couch. She doesn’t waste any time and immediately straddles your hips with a smirk forming on her lips. 

Your fingers don’t seem to throb from the cut anymore, but now something else seems to be.

Marilyn hasn’t kissed you yet, but the neediness within you is almost reaching its threshold. A whine leaves your lips as she brings a hand to hold your jaw firmly.

“Please,” you breathlessly say, desperate for her to touch you – to do anything to you.  

She just chuckles and goes to take her glasses off. “Patience, Y/N.” 

You can’t help but sigh at the sight of her without her glasses. You’ve always seen her wearing them in lectures, and you have never seen her without them on. 

“God…” You breathe out in awe. 

She quickly transfers her weight and leans away to place her glasses on the coffee table. When she returns to you, she bites her lip at the look of desperation on your face. She runs a thumb over your cheek before lowering her face close to yours. 

And she surges in for the kill.

You think about everything and nothing all at once. It makes you wonder how you’ve been able to live this long without experiencing the pure feeling of Marilyn’s lips on yours and how her hot, wet tongue prods against your lips. You immediately grant her access as impatience and desire start to flow through your veins, spurring you on.

The feeling of her tongue in your mouth draws a groan from somewhere deep within your chest, and you feel absolutely wild. 

She kisses you like you’re something sweet. You can feel your tongue against hers, wet and hungry, kissing you messily without relenting. 

Your hands wander to the back of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer to you. The cut on your hand is long forgotten, now threading through auburn locks of hair.

Marilyn pulls away from your mouth and snakes around to your ear, where you can feel the soft skin of her cheek against yours. Her hand finds the collar of your shirt and tugs at it.

“I want you to take everything off, darling,” she husks into your ear before pulling away and getting off of you so you can comply.

You feel yourself grow wet at her words, heart beating so ferociously that you swear Marilyn can hear the pounding drums in your chest. 

The woman in the question gazes down at you, pupils dilating and dark as she watches your hands fumble for the hem of your shirt. You partially sit up, pulling the material over your head and dropping it carelessly on the floor somewhere.

You’re left topless in a simple black lace bra. Goosebumps begin to form on your skin, and you’re unsure if it’s because of the cold or how you see Marilyn subtly bite her bottom lip at the sight of you.

You let her eyes linger on your form for a moment before your hands glide down the plane of your stomach to the top of the waistband of your jeans. 

Her eyes follow the movement of your hands, waiting in anticipation for you to make the next move. However, something devious racks your mind, urging you to test the waters. 

You wonder what she would do if you, perhaps, mess around a little bit. 

Your fingers find the button of your jeans, toying with them slightly before popping them open. Immediately, you look at Marilyn to see her fiery gaze burning into you, waiting for you to continue. It sends a shiver down your spine. It feels thrilling to be seen like this. By her. By the woman that is Marilyn Thornhill.

Your fingers rest on the zipper, unmoving as you await a reaction from the other woman. 

“Oh, sweet girl, do you really think that is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” You pretend to be confused by her words, fingers gently fiddling with the zipper.

“Sweetheart.” 

Oh, god. The sternness in her voice makes you feel more aroused, and you blink several times to maintain your composure. You remain unmoving but flash her another look of faux naivety. It appears that she has a short fuse.

“You’ll regret this later on. I’m going to make sure of it.” 

You don’t have time to say something witty back to her because she’s surging forward and clambering on top of you again, her mouth attacking the skin under your jaw. 

She sucks and nips gently, making you let out little gasps. It’s certain that she’s going to leave a mark on your skin; the mere thought of her doing such a thing causes you to groan. 

Marilyn smirks against your neck, proud of herself, knowing she’s making you feel this way. She kisses a wet trail from your neck to your throat and ends up in the valley between your breasts. 

Desperation causes you to slip a hand underneath your back to unclasp your bra. The other woman helps you take it off and tosses it somewhere behind her.

She rests on your lower stomach, leering at your exposed chest from above.

You feel yourself grow embarrassed, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides, wanting to cover yourself up. Marilyn must notice this because she brings a thumb to your lower lip and strokes it gently to soothe you.

“My gorgeous, gorgeous girl.” 

You blush and grow hot at her words, low and almost raspy, dripping from her lips like honey you could drink endlessly. 

“I’m going to take care of you,” she assures you. “I’m going to fuck you like crazy.”

You gasp as her hand goes to your left breast, fingers running over a nipple, causing you to flutter your eyelids at the feeling. She leans down and kisses you while she kneads your breast, her movements growing rougher with each second that passes by. 

Marilyn leaves your lips, causing you to whine in frustration. Her mouth then latches onto your breast, gently biting and sucking your soft skin. She repeats this with your other breast, causing you to release a breathy sigh, the sensation of her swirling tongue on your nipple becoming absolutely electrifying. 

The throbbing between your thighs grows, becoming almost unbearable. You’re a terribly impatient person; you won’t deny it. Unashamedly, you grab her free hand and trail it with yours down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans, a few of her fingers tucking slightly underneath the elastic. 

You give in, begging her to touch you as impatience sears through your body. “I can’t take it anymore. Please, Marilyn.” 

She raises an eyebrow at you and lets out a breathy laugh, amused. Her warm, lithe fingers remain unmoving at your waistband for a moment before she slips her hand out of your grasp to pull down your zipper so her hand can move more freely.

The older woman pulls out your own hand from your pants and replaces it with her own. Marilyn traces a finger over your clothed cunt, forcing you to bite back a moan. 

“You’re already soaked…” She murmurs, eyes flashing with amusement. 

You swallow thickly. The sensation of her touch has every inch of your skin on fire, your blood set ablaze.  

But it’s not enough.

You need more.

You try to wriggle out of your jeans. Marilyn notices this and helps you, tugging them off roughly, along with your underwear. 

The coolness of the air hits your sex, sending electricity through your spine. You're suddenly hyperaware that you’re lying naked underneath your botany professor, about to be fucked by her. 

She runs her fingers through your arousal, spreading it around your entrance gently. Without warning, she slips two fingers inside you, and you think: this is it; I’m going to die tonight. 

But for some reason, you’re certainly convinced that you’re more than willing to die at the hands of your botany professor; her hands that feed the Venus flytraps in the greenhouse; her hands that grip a textbook while she’s lecturing. You’re willing to lose every bit of yourself to her entirely.

“Fuck,” is the only thing you manage to breathe out, spreading your legs wider for her. 

“Oh, just you wait, sweet girl.” She’s starting to increase her pace, and you gasp loudly as she curls her fingers perfectly, in and out of you continuously. “I’m barely even started with you.” 

She picks up a brutal pace, coaxing soft moans from you with each thrust. It doesn’t take you long to feel the knot in your stomach tighten, prompting your heart to race even faster. 

“More, please- I think I’m going to-“

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she says cruelly, pulling her fingers out of you, causing you to cry out. She stands up and begins tearing off her clothing; your mind is trying to process what she’s just done. 

“You think you could tease me like you did before and get away with it?” She unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. “I don’t think so.”

You simply watch silently as she undresses, dragging her underwear down her legs. She does it slowly and delicately, eyes fixed on you. Your eyes have a mind of their own, scanning her from top to bottom, slowly. Embarrassingly, more wetness leaks from your cunt, drooling down your thighs.

When she’s finished, she presses her exposed front to your own, lying on top of you as she begins to kiss you again. She kisses you sensually, tongue prodding the inside of your mouth. You moan into her mouth at the feeling – at the feeling of her mouth and her naked body on yours, warm skin against yours. 

Your arms encompass her body, pulling her impossibly closer to you. You absentmindedly dig your nails into the soft skin of her back, causing her to groan against your mouth. 

“Profess– Marilyn…” You whimper in between kisses before she suddenly stops. “Please, I’m sorry for teasing you before. I’ll- I’ll be good this time.” 

She leaves an inch of distance between your lips and hers for a split second, contemplating your words. Without warning, she goes to kiss you again.

This time it’s different; you feel like you’re being devoured by her. The thought causes you to groan into her mouth. She retaliates by biting your bottom lip – hard. 

You feel the skin split open and start to taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue. When she moans, you know she’s finally got a taste of it too. The kisses become sloppy, and you feel more wetness pool between your thighs as the two of you relish in the taste of blood and the heat of wet tongues colliding against each other like waves against the rocky shore. 

Marilyn goes to nip at the same area on your bottom lip again, certain for more blood to spill from the wound. You almost yelp out in pain and surprise; it never occurred to you that there lies a much darker side to her under all her cheery smiles and dignified praise in the classroom. 

She pulls away from you, leaving your chest heaving and your heart pounding at your ribcage. You feel how your bottom lip throbs from how hard she bit you. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you looked into a mirror and saw your lips swollen from kisses and bites and your face flushed, covered by a thin sheen of sweat.  

Your eyes widen at the spectacle in front of you; the auburn-haired woman’s eyes are fully blown, and her tongue darts out to lick at the blood on her lips. Something equally sinister and ravenous twists in your stomach, and you can’t tell if it’s a good feeling or not, but you don’t have time to ponder the odd fervour that starts to contaminate your bloodstream because she suddenly surges in for another kiss, devouring you all over again.

All you can do is close your eyes and let your mouth find hers for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. 

Your nails dig into her bare shoulder as she kisses you, holding onto her for dear life. She kisses you rhythmically while you follow along, just as if she’s the conductor and you’re the orchestra at this very moment. 

It’s just like the music that was playing on the radio in her car – the sounds of pianos and strings intertwining, forming a melody both so delicate and ferocious at the same time. 

Her fingers trace down your side and between your thighs once more, fingertips briefly grazing the soft skin there before she drags a finger through your arousal and circles your clit. The action is familiar; you just hope she’ll finish you off this time. 

You’re panting as blood rushes to your ears and head, lost in the sensation of Marilyn’s touch. She plunges two fingers into your core and begins pumping in and out of you at an increasingly erratic pace while simultaneously rubbing that sensitive spot on your cunt, drawing mewls from you.

You feel something beginning to tighten in your stomach, hips buckling as you near the peak. The sounds of her fucking you fill the room, humility wavering in your mind temporarily before you decide that you don’t care about anything else right now. 

“I’m almost there,” you pant out, voice slightly hoarse from all the noises you've been making. 

She tsks. You want to cry as she denies you an orgasm for the second time. 

Marilyn stops touching you completely and doesn’t say a word; she leaves you with a bewildered look on your face, your mouth hanging open stupidly, whimpering in frustration. She flashes you a quick smirk, and you notice a bit of blood in the corner of her lips. You resist the urge to surge up to her and lick her lips clean of your own crimson sap. 

Before any words can leave your throat – pleading for her to continue, begging unashamedly – she slides down your body, grazing her fingertips along your frame. She doesn’t waste any time as she goes to lick one long stripe through your cunt before entering you with her tongue. 

A noise escapes your lips, breathy and high-pitched, almost like a hyena. Your hands fly to the older woman’s scalp to tug at her auburn locks, causing her to hum into your cunt, evident that your pleasure is also hers. 

Marilyn’s lips attach to your clit, and it doesn’t take that much for you to feel the knot in your stomach start to uncoil, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut as you arch your back and come into her mouth. Her name breathlessly leaves your lips like a desperate mantra you thought you would've never heard yourself say out loud until tonight.

You feel her tongue continue to attack at your core, even after you’ve came. Her pace doesn't falter, causing you to moan louder and louder. Soon after, you find yourself arching your back, muscles straining, coming once again. 

It takes you a moment to come down to earth, steadying your breathing after a moment of ecstasy. The older woman uses a thumb to rub gentle circles on your thigh. She sits up. Her hair is messy from you pulling at it, and some of your arousal is still on her lips, causing you to flush at the sight. 

She catches the way you stare at her, and she makes a show of slowly licking her lips. The gesture is erotic. It causes you to feel that familiar flame within you start up all over again. 

“Now.” She pauses. “I wonder what you would look like on your knees for me.”

You sit up on your elbows, watching Marilyn swing her legs around to sit on the couch properly. You realise you haven't spoken for a minute because she goes to tease you.

“Oh, sweetheart, has the cat got your tongue?” She looks at you, pouting with mock sympathy. 

You swallow thickly and shake your head in response. This was going to be a long, long night. You just hope your roommates decide to stay at the party until tomorrow morning. 

“That’s what I thought.” She smooths a hand over her thigh. “Now, why don’t you put that tongue of yours to good use?”

[obriengf]

Suds & Sponges || Stiles Stilinski x femReader

 Summary: Stiles does everything he can to see the cute girl at the car wash. Words: 6k Warnings: cute af stiles, he’s obsessed let’s be real, and reaallly awkward  Notes: this is a weird writing approach that i took.. it’s about Stiles’ perspective? idk?? dont hate it pls, also i started this off good and then i fkucked it up toward the end so.. sorry about that

Eyes squinted as you peered up to the sky; the blinding heat of the sun only partially blocked by your hand as it acted as a makeshift visor, your skin licked with Californian summer warmth on the parts of your body that weren’t shielded by your denim shorts or tied-front tank. The weather was utterly idyllic and served as the quintessential backdrop of your Saturday activities. Your focus was drawn toward your strawberry-blonde friend next, her hands gripping at her hips as she stood with poise, leadership strewn within her words and body language. Lydia was making sure that her senior prom fundraiser was getting underway, and as Student Body President, the girl wouldn’t accept any standard less than perfect. This explained the near army line-up of students who would be joining you in making some quick cash - some happily volunteering, others practically forced against their will by Lydia’s strength when it comes to persuasion. You, however, just couldn’t say no to some fun in the sun, or the way your friend’s doe green eyes bored into yours with the utmost pleading expression you’d ever come across.

You were all separated into small teams, and within a few minutes, were surrounded by fresh sponges and an array of water buckets. A couple of Sophomores were coaxed into standing outside of Beacon Hills High with glittery signs describing a car wash; their excitement oddly infectious as it began to draw in customers from the passersby. Several vehicles had already started a queue, and the addition of the summer hits playlist that Mason had put together had begun to sing loudly through the speakers scattered across the parking lot. 

You felt pumped as the atmosphere began to grow; the cooling temperature of the water acting as a stimulating contrast to the harshness of the sun, alongside the small chatter and laughs you shared between your teammates, Sydney and Malia. Lydia grinned wholefully and knowing that she was happy made you happy - except for the anticipated searching glances you would throw around every now and then, looking for the solid blue structure of a familiar jeep that had yet to make an appearance.

Stiles’ foot tapped anxiously against the pavement of the McCall driveway, his arms crossed tightly over his chest to prevent any further fidgeting or impatient flailing of his arms. When Scott told him that he wanted to swing by the car wash to surprise Kira, Stiles had instantly jumped into the jeep with exceptional speed after your name was thrown so casually into the conversation. He was now waiting for his friend to appear after being chastised for restlessness, Scott barely out of the shower before Stiles was rapidly beeping his horn and yelling for the boy to ‘get his ass in the car’ otherwise he was leaving without him. Ten minutes had passed, and his hand was hovering over the car horn once more before Scott skipped down his porch, an annoyed yet amused smirk pulling at his lips.

“Someone’s a little desperate.” He said, brows quirking at the gaping and inarticulate sounds Stiles was producing after being caught off-guard.

“I-I just need my car washed, dude.” The boy settled on, pulling his whisky hues away before clearing his throat. Stiles tried to ignore the snicker erupting from Scott as he rolled his eyes, body slipping hastily into the driver's seat. He just really needed his car washed, afterall.  Stiles remained silent as he peered over the console, his body twisting so that he could concentrate on reversing back onto the street. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip and Scott couldn’t hold back another laugh at the urgency written all over his best friend’s face.

“No need to rush, Kira said this thing goes all day. Unless there’s another reason why you’re so eager- ” Scott quipped, eyes focusing on the slight clench that tugged along Stiles’ jawline and how his eyes grew two sizes bigger. 

“What? I just need my car-”

“- washed, I know.” The amused tone of Scott’s voice broke through the other boy’s attempt to avert the conversation, a slight rosy blush playing upon Stiles’ cheeks as he refused to now take his eyes off the road ahead. Scott clicked his tongue, “So... this super obvious impatience has nothing to do with that fact that a particular someone is going to be helping out today?” 

The Stilinski boy’s entire face was suddenly flushed, the pink shade tickling at his neck as he fell into embarrassment. He knew that he was easy to read at times, but not this easy. Just the mere thought of you had his heart galloping, a slight sheen of anxious sweat beginning to clam up his hands, his fingers tapping an unreadable beat against the steering wheel to absentmindedly distract his zealousness. He wanted to blink and have you appear in front of him; to feel the velvet softness of your touch, hear the melodic song of your laugh, and see the bright rays of sunshine that epitomised your smile. Stiles didn’t just want you, he wanted to experience you.

Scott was watching him with fondness - he recognised that look of butterflies, how emotions played into the giddiness that would build Stiles’ whole persona when he was around you. He enjoyed seeing his friend happy, and found the utmost humour in how distracted Stiles would become just having you in the vicinity. Scott had hope for his friend, a was a firm supporter in keeping that innocent teenage love alive.

Scott watched as the town sped past the passenger side window, houses and trees blurring into one strip of ongoing colour. He couldn’t help the quirk of his lopsided grin, eyes focusing outside, although he didn’t need to look at Stiles to picture the flabbergasted expression he was about to uphold, “You should just ask her out, man. Bite the bullet. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Ugh, I dunno, Scotty...” Sarcasm was heavily present now, accompanied by a breathless scoff and very evident roll of whisky eyes. Stiles allowed his words to trail as he quickly glanced to his amused friend and back to the road, “She could hear me? Laugh in my face? Say no?”

The Jeep began to slow as it reared behind a line of cars filtering into the school parking lot, the ears of the two boys perking at the faraway summer tunes in the distance. Scott sounded a small chuckle at Stiles’ atypical catastrophizing, “Riiight... and what’s the best thing?”

“We get married, have three kids, two dogs, and live in a big house with a white picket fence. I’m Sheriff and she is an Elementary school teacher and we are really fucking in love.” He hardly skipped in a beat in his reply, the words falling so effortlessly from his lips in a pragmatic tone. And if prompted, he could immediately list the names of your children and breed of dogs as if he’s lived it for the past ten years. 

“Have you thought about this already?” Scott interrupted the beginning stages of daydreaming, the other boy blinking rapidly as if he were knocked from a trance. 

Whisky hues bulged as realisation hit about what was asked, and Stiles shook his head roughly, lips pursed, “Uh, no, nope, not at all.” But the raise of Scott’s questioning brow indicated that he saw right through him, and Stiles couldn’t help but manage a large groan, hands gripping the steering wheel until knuckles were near white, “Okay, yes. Can we change the subject now?”

Silence engulfed the boys - the only sounds now falling through the open windows, loud chatter and growing tunes creating atmosphere as the Jeep rolled slowly through the queue. Stiles didn’t need Scott nudging at his side and pointing in the direction of where you were situated, as he had already clocked you from the moment he passed the threshold, the sun raining down on you as he saw an ethereal glow around your form. You had him like putty in the palm if your hand, and was completely clueless about it.

They were now next in line and Stiles’ leg wouldn’t stop shaking from the growing anticipation, Scott needing to reach out and hold it firmly down to cease the nervous habit. His little crush has easily flourished into infatuation and just knowing that you were so close was enough to brighten his day completely, but patience was not a virtue in the Stilinski boy’s book. 

The moment Stiles rolled the Jeep forward and put it in park, Scott was already slipping from the vehicle, causing Stiles to growl down to his friend, “Dude, where are you going?”

“I saw Kira when we drove in, gonna go say hi. Don’t fuck this up.” 

Stiles made a noise of complaint, nostrils slightly flaring, hands lifting into the air with an iconic flail, “Don’t fuck what up?”

With a salute and a cheeky wink in Stiles’ direction, Scott dropped his body to the tarmac below, his tone quiet enough for only the other boy to hear “Asking Y/N out, dumbass. I’ll see you later.” 

The sound of a car door slamming caught your attention as you rinsed out your allocated sponges, the chilled temperature of the water becoming a saving grace as your balmy hands were submerged within the bucket of soapy residue. You looked over your shoulder as you saw Malia welcome Scott, a smile quick to grow between your cheeks before you wiped your hands on the thighs of your shorts, skin sure to dry quickly within this weather. 

“Hey.” You called, the boy glad to reciprocate your greeting as you both neared closer. He was wearing a smirk and you couldn’t think of why, only that behind him sat Stiles in the safety of the Jeep’s cabin. Your head tilted as arms crossed over your chest, “What’s got you all smug?”

“Nothin’. Just got a feeling today’s gonna be a good day.” Scott replied, his hands slipping nonchalantly into the pockets of his cargo shorts, lopsided lips continuing to pull up into an expression of utter cheekiness. He knew something you didn’t, you thought, but chose to not play into it for now. Instead, a nod of acknowledgement was offered before you pointed in the direction of Kira. Scott sighed gently, “Thanks... hey, maybe you should go see Stiles? I think he wanted to ask you something.” 

He sounded so sure of himself as he headed away in the opposite direction, leaving you with furrowed brows of confusion and a sense of intrigue that instantly pulled your gaze to the vehicle standing before you. It took Stiles by surprise as you pulled open his passenger door, hands settling on your hips as you grinned up at him - your cheeks was mildly flushed from the heat, and your clothes clung more to your frame in the few places that had gotten wet. The look on your face screamed liveliness, along with the slight disheveledness of your hair. Caramel swirls swam as his eyes grew wider, words lost on the tip of his tongue as he drew you in; even with things slightly out of place, Stiles thought you were absolutely beautiful.

“You look hot...” Stiles trailed, eyebrows jolting up as he realised what he had said. He swallowed hard and inattentively gripped at his steering wheel, frozen as you breathed out a bashful giggle toward the tarmac below your feet. “Y-you know, b-because of the sun. Summer... summer, and, and all...” 

Your bottom lip was captured between your teeth, the flesh tugged gently as you tried to hide the way your friend’s comment seemed to resonate with you. It was no revelation that Stiles was hardly a smooth-talker, but even you couldn’t help the fact that his cumbersome way of words was so inevitably endearing. 

Your body gently lent against the frame of the open door, head tilted to the side before you offered a tender smile, “Scott said you wanted to ask me something?”

“Well, I-I...” The stuttering returned in the form of surprise, your comment throwing him off guard, in left field, under the bus. He was unsure how to reply regardless of the fact that he knew damn well what he wanted to say. Words collected on his tongue and they refused to leap, leaving Stiles in a predicament. You didn’t try to push him, instead raising a brow in softened confusion, an indicator for him to continue. All that the boy could do was gulp, his adam’s apple bobbing before he released a nervous chuckle, “I was wondering if, if you’d... you know.. if you’d like to, if you’d wanna... give Roscoe a good ol clean...” 

Stiles internally cringed - he was sure that he might have possibly externally cringed, as well. He watched through a slightly squinted view as now both of your brows rose, bafflement so evidently present in your eyes. It was unexpected, yet not entirely abnormal for the Stilinski boy. 

“I mean, yeah, that’s why I’m here.” You answered, trying to pull away from the questioning tone that was desperate to nip at your response. You shone another grin before closing the car door, your lips falling the moment he was out of view. You hated the feeling of hopefulness; the exhilaration and anticipation was nothing compared to the deflated aftermath that would often follow. You couldn’t even tell if he was happy to see you and it was starting to put a damper on your mood.

The sound of your name broke you from your bubble of thought, Sydney and Malia standing in front of you with cleaning supplies ready and questioning gazes of their own. It was a brisk decision to brush off your strange encounter with Stiles, instead focusing your energy on fulfilling your duties for the day and experiencing a little fun alongside your friends. Maybe he just didn’t feel the same butterflies you so often homed in your stomach.

Stiles sunk deep into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping at his face as they muffled the long and pained groan that he released the moment you disappeared from his sight. He had one job, and it was to ask you out. A handful of words, a quick sentiment. It would have been over and done by now but he lost whatever ‘cool’ he had left, and now he was paying the consequences by chastising himself in the seclusion of the Jeep.

Stiles’ head bounced back gently against the worn plush of the seat before pushing out a mellowing sigh between his teeth. He couldn’t help the anxiesties that began to flutter in his mind - worried if he blew it, scared that he turned you off for good. He hastily pulled out his phone, fingers hovering over an open message conversation with Scott as he tried to think what to say. He mumbled a quiet ‘fuck it’ under his breath before allowing his thumbs to spill word vomit into a text; hashing out his insecurities as he explained how the impromptu plan failed miserably. All that he got in reply from his large paragraph block of text was a simple ‘you’re an idiot’ from Scott’s end. For once, Stiles Stilinski agreed.

Ten minutes or so passed before Stiles could finally hear some sort of clarity from the ceased rinse cycle of the hose, his eyes opening to be met with a spotless windscreen. He slowly pushed himself into an upright position in time to see you talking to Malia, a smile finally returning between your cheeks, and Stiles could’ve sworn that if he stared for much longer than he’d be sinking back down into that seat in the form of a loved-up puddle. And he almost did, if it wasn’t for his passenger door opening and Scott making his way back beside his friend. 

The boy laughed, “Dude, pick up your jaw.” He said to Stiles, observing just how intense the infatuation was really becoming. Stiles fumbled as he broke from his entrancement, his throat coughing as he cleared it to cover up his brief moment of rapt focus. He could feel Scott’s glare burn into the side of his skull - an odd concoction of amused disappointment at how he so easily messed up such a simple task.

“Don’t.” Stiles said, simply, his teeth gritted and tone offering a soft warning. 

“ I didn’t say anything - ” 

“Okay! I know I fucked it up, I know!” He continued, groaning again, his head falling back to the headrest as large hands covered his face once more. His voice was obstructed, yet Scott could make out the tiniest of details - something along the lines of how Stiles was planning on running away to another country and changing his name.

A small knock against the driver’s side door caused the nervous boy to suddenly jump, even more so when he saw you glancing up at him from the other side. The window was quickly wound down before he smiled - a grin that was very highly-strung, yet he couldn’t help but show happiness as you looked toward him with those bright eyes. 

“I can promise you that Roscoe’s looking like a brand new car.” Your voice was airy, trying to feign a tone that didn’t express the mild discontent that you were still feeling. You heard as Scott chuckled in the background, a comment made about how you have yet to see the five rolls of duct tape holding the engine together, before Stiles reached behind him with a soft blow to his friend’s bicep.

Lanky fingers were quick to fumble around in his pocket before pulling out a folded bill of cash, a much appreciated contribution toward Lydia’s fundraising goal. You accepted it was another smile, pink shades poking the tip of your nose as you said a quiet thanks in return.

An awkward silence began to set in as you suddenly found your entangled fingers an interesting distraction, Stiles stealing glances toward you as he picked at loose threads on the hem of his tee. It was driving Scott crazy. “Thanks again for the wash, Y/N. We’ll see you around.” He called out over Stiles’ shoulder, hand raised in a wave as he tried to push some life back into the gawky tension. You immediately reciprocated his sentiment, showcasing the splendour that always managed to draw Stiles to your eyes, and the benevolence that built up the smiling curl of your lips.

Stiles had never wanted to stay at and leave a place so bad in his life.

“I should’ve just said it, right? When we were leaving... I should’ve just asked her... right?” This was the third time that Stiles had brought up this topic since he and Scott left the parking lot of the School. Indecision was clawing at him and fuelling anxieties that will surely play on his mind for at least another twelve months. Minimum. 

Scott sighed for the third time, too, his head lolling to the side to look at the straightened figure beside him, “There’s always next time, man. You’ll find another reason to talk to her.” 

Stiles’ lips curled in as he pondered numerous scenarios; scenes flashing through his mind like a video on fast forward, considering when would be the perfect time to just ask you out. But Stiles Stilinski wasn’t much for predetermined plans when in this headspace, choosing to impulsively turn the jeep around on the empty road and head for the Preserve, not much more than a five minute drive away. 

Scott’s eyebrow quirked, his tone questioning, “What’re you up to?” 

“Just doing what you said. Finding another reason to talk to her.”  

Scott never anticipated that he’d find himself some time after staring at his friend as they stood in front of the Jeep, a look of incredulity forming the purse of his lips and furrowing of his brows. They were alone and luckily shrouded by a canopy of trees, blocking out the heat from the sun. Scott opened his mouth before closing it, the action continual as he tried to come to terms with what Stiles just asked. “Can you repeat that? Not sure I heard you right.”

“I said...” Stiles announciated, reaching down to grasp a handful of the earth's soil, “Throw dirt on my car.” 

So, Scott did hear him right, the gentle chocolate hues of his eyes widening significantly as Stiles hurled his handful of dirt across the hood of the Jeep. The iconic sky blue shade quickly turned to a murky grey as more dirt was piled on, but Scott remained standing back in confusion. It wasn’t until Stiles ushered him again, that he eventually lent down to grasp at his own handful.

 The intentions were well, but the moment Stiles heard loud clinking sounds, his head immediately spun to face his friend and you’d think from afar that the world was ending there and then.

“Scott, dude... the rocks!” Stiles yelped, a whine slipping next from his lips as he leapt to his hood, checking for damage. Fingers carefully treading over any possible dints, his voice now hoarse as whispered words were spoken under bated breath, the softened force blowing dust specks into the air, “Not the paintwork, don’t scratch the paintwork...” 

Eyes could not have been rolled back further before hands were held high in defence, Scott taking gentle footsteps backwards in time with his chuckles of disbelief, “You’re completely insufferable.” 

And the Stilinski boy was. His mind was running a million miles per second, hyperactivity busying his thoughts and playing upon all emotions. Stiles felt like a ticking time bomb, yet held so much placidness at the same time - a conflict that he was yet to decipher. He so easily scolded himself for his indecisiveness, but just seeing your face as he briefly closed his eyes reminded him that there was a suchness in being contented. There was a reason, a way, and he desperately needed that light that you shone so benevolently to finally ground him.

With a huff and shake of his head, Stiles stood back to his full height, lips managing to pull into a smirk toward the other boy, “Just a bit more dirt, Scotty, and we’ll try a take two. I’ll get it right this time.” 

You didn’t expect to turn around and be faced with a familiar front bumper, leading up into a dusty grey-toned vehicle that looks as if it’d been driven full throttle through a sandstorm. Your brows rose as you treaded a few steps over the heated tarmac, the back of your band absentmindedly lifting to wipe at the sweat gathering on your forehead from the midday sun. You couldn’t help the breathless laugh that fell from you when you saw that the window to the driver’s seat had already been wound down, as if the driver himself was expecting you to pay visitation to his side again.

You lent up as far as you could until your arms were just able to sit within the space of the missing window, your chin leaning on top of them as they crossed. Your throat hummed, “What’d you guys do to all our hard work?” 

Stiles snickered sheepishly as his own arm was thrown behind his head, pink shades playing upon his cheeks, “I don’t know, we just, ya know... found it like this...” 

Scott nearly choked on air at the poor excuse.

“You found Roscoe like this?” You spoke with yet another question, somewhat intrigued with where this story could take you, and how Stiles’ typical knack of overdramatizing would feed the recount, “And what do you think may have happened for the Jeep to look like it took a nap in a garden bed?” 

“Dirt... storm?” He mentally slapped himself as the words left the tip of his tongue. Not only could he feel Scott sliding with immense embarrassment down the passenger-side seat, but he could also see the way the cogs tried to turn in your head with no avail to comprehend what he was saying. He cleared his throat before attempting to reiterate his reasoning, “Like a gust of wind, big gust, full of... dirt, super windy. S-super... super dirt-y...” 

You tried to ignore the loud snort of amusement stemming from an eavesdropping Malia, her gaze focused on rinsing out rags and sponges only a few feet away from you. She had nearly finished the preparation for round two of cleaning Stiles’ car and it prompted you to push out your lips as you slowly nodded along to his story, “Right, sure. Well... if you need me - us “ You were quick to correct yourself, coughing to cover the slip up, “Us... we’ll just be out here, washing the Jeep, again.” 

The second you stepped back, the window went up, and Scott practically numbed his friend’s arm from the bellowing punch he threw his way. He groaned as fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose, muttering a frustrated ‘unbelievable’ to his lap. All that Stiles had to do was keep his cool - but he was acting just as thickly as the summer air outside.

Scott eventually peered to the side, capturing Stiles’ stiff posture and widened appalled eyes. Stiles spoke with a raspy throat, “Don’t you even think about commenting on what the fuck just happened.” 

But Scott couldn’t help it; gentle laughter pushing first through his nose before it was tangled among his amused words, “Dirt storm? Really?” 

You finally felt relief as the harshness of the sun settled behind the body of the school; a saving grace that was much needed after the balmy exposure you found yourself within all day. The changing position of the sun meant that the afternoon was nearing dusk, and that meant that your day of work was nearly over. Yours was among a handful of other bodies that had gathered for a brief chat in-between customers, an array of stories and gossip shared until you were eventually broken away by the sound of your name.

Looking back over to where your team was stationed, your eyes grew to the size of saucers. Malia was in astonishment, gesturing toward that too-familiar Jeep as it rolled up to the spot that was practically theirs by now. You’d never have thought that you would be seeing these boys so many times in one day; yet here you were, wandering back up to the same window to be met by that same stupidly cute boy, with the hopes that he’d entertain you with yet another fashioned explanation.

You didn’t even have to a speak a word before Stiles was pouring out an excuse, his hands adding expression as they flailed helplessly around him within the small space of the cabin, “You should’ve seen it, Y/N, Scott’s drink just... it flew right outta his hands, right, and all over the bonnet. It was wild. Just totally... totally out of nowhere... you know... so... so crazy...” 

Your voice was filled with mirth as you mimicked him, head nodding in acknowledgement, “So crazy.” 

The faint scent of strawberry milkshake filled the air as you peeked over the the car’s front, a large splatter now meeting your gaze and it made you sigh in hilarity. You were confused, but still found your meet-ups mildly endearing. 

What Stiles refrained to tell you was that he offered to by Scott lunch as compensation for his erratic behaviour, only to grow impulsive when he discovered another reason to find himself back at the car wash. He had plucked the drink and lent out of the car window, the beverage raining down onto the hood as Scott’s expression dropped into the utmost despair. He was getting more desperate, yet it only enraged the anxiety knotting his stomach.

You showed cheekiness as you held your hand out, awaiting another ten dollar bill before the cleaning commenced. The corners of your eyes wrinkled as you smiled widely, head only slightly tipped to the side, “Pay up, Stilinski. I’m not doing shit until you place a pretty Hamilton on my palm. I’m also accepting tips.” You winked his way, proud as you watched his head shake as a small laugh left his lip, and two bills were handed to you with no hesitation. 

You bit your lip, head shaking as you gave one back to the boy, “I was joking.” You explained. More like, you were flirting, but even then Stiles huffed that he wanted you to keep it. For the fundraiser. 

Stiles looked at you with all the adoration in the world - caramel eyes gleaming in the afternoon light as they softened over your face, able to easily fall into a daze as he smiled drunkingly at you. The butterflies quickly returned as they fluttered in your stomach, and it made your heart race and chest fill with warmth. You were chuffed. He made you chuffed. You own cheeks were flushing with a pink hue before you took a chance, hope-filled that he was feeling the same as you, “Is there anything else you need me for before I go?”

You were giving him the opportunity. You were throwing him a life-line and he knew it. It was right in front of him and he could grasp it and hold it close to his thumping heart if he really wanted to - but the boy was frozen. Words refused to push past his lips. His body stopped working. His palms were clamming up and Scott swore that Stiles had stopped breathing for a short moment. 

His voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he was losing his courage, eventually finishing on another half-assed response, “Just... you’re doing a great job. Five stars.” 

You patted at the sill of the car window, mouth curling in as you looked away. Disappointment flooded you once again, and you had to remind yourself why you shouldn’t grow hopeful. 

It also reminded Stiles that he didn’t like to see you as anything but your usual epitome of sunshine. 

“No. No way.” Hands were situated firmly on her hips as Lydia stood in the entryway to the Beacon Hills High parking lot. Stiles had rubbed god-only-knows what on his car and was back to see you again, but she wasn’t having any of it. 

“Oh, come on, Lydia. Do you know how much I’ve contributed to this stupid Prom thing today? Just let me in.” He whined, earning himself an exhausted chuckle from Scott beside him. 

She didn’t budge, and she wouldn’t. Lydia remained standing her ground with a neutral expression, her eyes only heeding a warning as her perfectly sculpted brow rose to challenge him. “I know exactly how much you’ve contributed. You’ve been here like, once an hour.” 

“He’s trying to ask Y/N out.” Scott added as he ducked his head out of his window, voice laced with tiredness from his fractured day. 

Green eyes rolled at the admission, fingers tensing as they wiggled over her shirt. She looked bored, and it made it easier for the smallest tone of judgement to wrap within her words, “I don’t think getting the girl you’re crushing on to wash your car all day is a good way to ask her out.” 

Another strong punch to Stiles’ arm made him yip loudly as Scott stared at him, his eyes deep screaming out that he was unimpressed. His voice was low and scolding, “I fucking told you so, you idiot.” 

Brown locks fell as Stiles’ head dropped to the rim of his steering wheel, a guttural groan echoing loudly around him. He wasn’t happy with himself, and if you weren’t so damn captivating, then he might have given up quicker. But he won’t, because he’s Stiles, and giving up isn’t a thing that he’s ever known to do. He was overly hyperactive, spontaneous, and strong-headed but he never was one to quit. Especially when it came to the cute girl at the car wash.

“Are you gonna let me in, Lyds?” He begged, tone defeated as he stared at the strawberry-blonde with wide pleading eyes. She clicked her tongue as she considered thought, her facade still not showing even the tiniest crack. Eventually, she stepped aside with a knowing look - another warning, a promise that if this didn’t end well then she’d show off what her anger truly entails. It was seen within her piercing eyes and protective scowl, truly terrifying when you’re found to be on the receiving end.

Stiles didn’t bother driving all the way up, opting to walk over instead with hands buried into the depths of his denim pockets to hide the nervous fiddling of his lanky fingers. He felt the dissipation of pressure when he noticed that you were alone, and the setting sun emitting a halo of light that framed you perfectly. If this wasn’t a sign, then he didn’t know what was.

He swallowed quickly, mouth suddenly dry as he lapped at his lips. This felt too surreal, like he was floating through a dream and that his body was filled with instant warmth as you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. 

“Hey, you. No car?” You asked, showing off a full toothy grin as your hands clasped behind your back. Little did Stiles know that you too were nervously playing with your fingers.

He smiled back, speaking honestly for the first time today as he stopped only a feet or two away from you, “Didn’t really wanna hide behind it anymore.”

 It was easier to see him now that he was close enough to touch; soft brown freckles much more evident across his skin as they glowed in the afternoon light, a beautiful contrast to the dark moles that splayed constellations beside his cheeks. His eyes grew golden and you could practically taste the caramel shade that radiated so mesmerizingly from them. He was much more vulnerable as he stood with buried hands and a bashful boyish smile that made you feel weak.  

He was so gentle and you couldn’t hold back.

“Did you wanna go out sometime? I mean - “ You laughed nervously, and Stiles couldn’t have found it any more adorable if he tried, “I like you. I know it sounds so totally middle school to say that, but I do. You make my knees weak, and my heart race, and i get these... these butterflies - “

“In your stomach? And it makes you feel weird, kinda sick but in a good way? The butterflies feel good?” He interjected, unable to hold back now that he had seen your feelings laying on the line. 

Yout bit your lip, nodding in agreement, “Exactly. It’s like... a good nervous. A perfect kind of nervous. You make me smile and I swear I can feel my chest swell with so much happiness, it’s crazy.” 

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “So crazy?” 

“Yeah, so crazy.” You wanted to reach over and slap his arm from repeating your earlier words, his tone just as mocking, but it only showed you that everything you did meant just as much to him, as he did to you.

“I wanted to tell you all day... fuck, I like you too. Probably a little too much. That probably is probably a definitely... definitely a definitely - “ He hummed as he stopped to think to himself, getting lost for a short moment before the gentle touch of your hand was felt against his cheek, and Stiles could have melted to the ground right there and then.

You had to gulp down as you locked eyes with the boy, their doe-like appearance prompting your bottom lip to catch between your teeth again, “I definitely like you a little too much, too, Stiles.” 

With careful movements, his hand raised to sit tenderly over your hold, and he was hoping that you weren't able to hear the hammering of his loving heart against the caging of his chest. 

Stiles eventually released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the sigh sounding content and pleased, “Burgers?” 

You nodded in reply before your tone was laced in amusement, “Only if you promise not to throw my shake at your car.” 

“I don’t know, if it means I get to see the cute car wash girl again, then maybe that’s a promise I’ve gotta break.”