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stevesherdaddynowlover · 2 months

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mint chocolate rewards [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii i kept getting stuck with this one but am pretty happy with how it turned out!! as much as i love pathetic steve i also looooove cocky steve. hope you enjoy!! feel free to send requests/suggestions or just chat with me :) -m

summary: you’re tutoring steve (there’s not a lot of learning going on) and he’s a smug asshole sometimes. (ft. ice cream, trains, and karaoke)

modern!steve x fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, angst (steve is a little bit of a an asshole), kissing, a tiny bit of phone teasing, dirty talk, fingering, edging, p in v, smidge of daddy kink (used like once or twice and it’s steve referring to himself) 18+ MDNI!!!!!!

wc: 19.3k (oh im a yapper)

masterlist here!!

College has been a fresh start for you, moving away from your small, stuffy town and basking in the change of scenery and people that a new city brought you.

Boston was busy most of the time, a Friday or Saturday night in downtown made the city feel alive, electrified—but unlike New York, this city did sleep. Once the hustle and bustle of cars and trains stopped, the city shutdown for the night and the streets were quiet and still. Well in some places.

It was your third year at Boston University and you’d developed a fondness for the city around you. It was a city of passion and that extended to food, history, and especially sports. A passionate place with the people to match it.

With this new school and new city, you’d also found some new friends. Robin and Eddie, the three of you had found each other during the first week of freshman year and it had kind of just been that way ever since. You’d like to say you were Robin's best friend, but you knew that title was reserved for someone else.

You didn’t know Steve Harrington, but you certainly knew of him. Hushed whispers and tired rumors always swirled through the air when Steve was around—and even when he wasn’t.

Despite the reputation he seemed to have, you wondered if there was really any truth to it. Sure, he seemed charismatic and a little full of himself. Yes, he wore a smug smirk that you thought could bewitch just about anyone. But, when you sat on the sidelines and observed him, you noticed the way he tried to make everyone laugh. You’d seen firsthand how he took the time to talk to everyone around him and make sure they felt included in whatever the group was up to. You saw how he treated Robin, and cared for her. And plus, he couldn’t be that bad if she thought so highly of him, if she loved him so much.

So maybe you did know him, at least a little bit.

But in reality you were a fairly optimistic person, so you kept your theories about Steve to yourself. You tended to look for the good in people, even when there wasn’t much to look at. A glass half full kind of gal. Which is why when you hear about the ladies man, the stereotypical asshole that is Steve Harrington, you keep your mouth shut and don’t add to the conversation at all.

Even with Steve being Robin’s best friend, the two of you hardly ever overlapped. You’d see him in passing or he’d be coming to see Robin while you were leaving, but that was it. You weren’t sure why this was how it was, especially with how much she yapped about him. But really you think that Steve has his group of people and Robin has hers. The time they spent together was their own and you didn’t have any issues with that.

And so when your professor pulls you aside after algebra ll, you realize your overlap with Steve Harrington just increased tenfold.

“Steve is asking for some outside help and we talked about it and decided the group sessions that I do probably aren’t going to be a good fit. I know you’ve picked up some one on one sessions in the past and made you my first stop.”

Although you don’t want to admit it, your heart beats a little faster at the thought of spending one on one time with Steve. You’re not sure if it’s excitement or dread—maybe a mix of both.

“I, uh, I can do that. He’s serious about this right? I don’t want to waste my time if he’s not really wanting to learn something.” Okay, so maybe you’d let some of the rumors about him wiggle their way into your brain, but you couldn’t help it!

“He is. From what I’ve seen he takes his classes seriously, despite what others say about him. I don’t think he’d ask for help just to make a joke out of it.”

She had a point, why would he go out of his way to seek tutoring if he wasn’t serious about it? And if someone needed some help and you could do it, you were going to.

“Alright, I’m in. You can give him my number and I’ll see about setting something up.”

———-

Your phone buzzing beside you while you laid in bed that night wasn’t out of the ordinary but it was strange when you looked and didn’t recognize the number on your screen. Until you remembered the conversation you’d had with Professor Benson that morning. And until you scrolled through the messages and saw his name.

Unknown: Hi! I heard you agreed to be my tutor! Professor B didn’t tell me your name but thank you!

Unknown: You are a lifesaver.

Unknown: Oh shit this is Steve Harrington by the way. I forgot to mention that.

Phone still clutched tightly in your hand, you cursed yourself for feeling nervous. He was being perfectly polite, cute even, and here you were with sweaty palms at the thought of texting him back. But you had to. You agreed to this and you wouldn’t go back on your word over some jitters.

It only took you writing and rewriting the message about twenty times before you came up with something simple that didn’t make you cringe.

Y/n: Hi, Steve! You’re welcome, I hope I can be of some help to you. I’m y/n, by the way. Did you have a certain time or place you wanted to meet up for your first session? I’m free most days after 6.

Steve: Y/n? As in the person Robin has replaced me with? What a small world.

Y/n: Funny. I don’t think anyone could replace your spot in Robin’s life, but yes that’s me.

A small smile worked its way on your lips as you went back and forth with him, some of the nerves slipping away.

Steve: Well lucky me, I’ll finally get to spend some time with the girl I’ve heard so much about. But as for the first session, what about the library at 7 tomorrow? The tables in the back?

You tried not to let the first part of his text affect you so much, but it did. If you were being honest, you didn’t think he even knew about you at all, so the thought that he had was making your pulse speed up.

Y/n: Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then!

Y/n: Oh and I’ve heard plenty about you too, all good things.

Steve: Let’s hope I live up to my name then. See you tomorrow.

———

Steve was living up to his name, but not the one Robin had given him.

The day had passed quickly and before you knew it you were here about twenty minutes early with math textbooks and notes surrounding you. Now you wouldn’t fault Steve for not being early, that wouldn’t be fair, but you would fault him for being an hour late.

Well technically he still hadn’t shown up.

Ten or fifteen minutes, even half an hour you could brush off. Things happen, you get that. But you had no text, no call, no anything and you felt a steady stream of irritation flowing through you. Your texts had gone unanswered and while the rational part of you was concerned that something had happened, more than anything you were frustrated.

You texted Robin to see if she knew anything about what was going on and she didn’t. If he wasn’t here by 8:45 you were leaving. That was more than fair and you cursed yourself for even giving him that much leeway. But really you hoped he didn’t show at all because now you were tired and pissed and certainly not in the mood to hear his excuses let alone tutor him. The thought of even speaking about math right now made you want to cry!

It was a surprise your pencil didn't snap from how tight you were gripping it in your hand, your jaw clenched and the beginning of a headache pulsing behind your eyes. You’d try one more time, send one more text before you were done.

Y/n: Can you at least let me know you’re alive?

That was fifteen minutes ago and still nothing. Looking down at your phone you see it’s now 8:50 and you push your chair back with a huff, standing up to stuff everything back into your bag, shoulders aching before you even add on the extra weight.

It’s when you’re sliding in your laptop that you hear it. Panicked footsteps are hurrying toward you and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Any exhaustion you had is wiped away and replaced with red hot anger, the tips of your ears burning as you try to remind yourself to breathe.

“Fuck, I’m here! Shit, I’m sorry but I’m here.”

You ignore him, it’s all you can do right now and honestly you think it’s best for both of you that you don’t speak. You’d been up since 5 am and that wasn’t his fault, but it definitely was his fault that he was showing up 2 hours late and keeping you up when you didn’t have to be.

Zipping up your bag and grabbing your keys off the table you turn, brushing past him without so much as a glance before you’re heading to the doors of the library. Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but you don’t care. You hear him behind you, cursing under his breath and trying to quietly call your name but you keep going. Past the doors and down the sidewalk and straight ahead with a frown on your face.

A hand on your arm stops you and you realize you manage to keep a few feet ahead of him for about four blocks. You don’t turn to him, don’t give any acknowledgment of his presence besides the pause of your feet.

“I’m sorry I was a little late—”

That gets your attention and it’s enough to break the little silent treatment you’ve had going. It’s enough to have you pulling your arm away from his hand despite the warmth it provided as you turn to finally face him.

“A little? Try two hours, Steve.”

His nose scrunches and he looks away. You can see the embarrassment in his pinched brows and pouty lips but it does little to dull the frustration that’s been building inside of you since the half hour mark.

But he’s standing in front of you for the first time and while he’s spewing sorry’s you’re taking him in. His hair is disheveled and his lips are a little swollen, like he or someone else has been biting on them. He’s wearing a lilac t-shirt that looks a little too good on him and jeans that hug him in all the right places.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Time got away from me and I didn’t realize until I was leaving her house that it was so late! I thought I’d given us plenty of time but I guess I…I fucked up.”

You don’t hear much after “leaving her house”, a new wave of anger washing over you and you have to fist your hands at your side to keep from knocking in his pretty white teeth.

“Was everyone okay?” Your voice is calm and quiet, a little sprig of hope inside that maybe someone needed his help, something had happened and it was an emergency. You hated yourself a little bit for hoping for something like when in reality you knew the truth. He’d been too busy with a girl to remember you.

And yes you realize it wasn’t so much you specifically as it was your tutoring session, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You were a girl, a girl who blushed around cute guys and who wanted to hold hands and kiss and go on dates. And so what if it hurt your feelings a little bit that Steve had forgotten you? You could get over that. But what you wouldn’t get over, at least tonight, was that he’d taken advantage of someone wanting to help him and wasted your time.

“Oh, yeah, everyone’s okay. It was more like a…a date, I guess.”

“Right. And your phone stopped working?”

He scratched at the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t hear it go off and when I saw all your texts I was already almost here so I just didn’t respond.” Well at least he’s honest.

“Okay. Maybe you should try out a group session with Professor B before you rule it out completely, you might do well with it.”

He pulled back, eyes wide and a look of surprise written across features. You get the feeling he’s not used to being told no, even indirectly. “What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s not fair to me to waste my time. I agreed to this because I wanted to help you but if you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time or even call me to let me know you couldn’t make it, it doesn’t really give me hope that this will be beneficial for either of us.”

His face hardens the slightest bit and despite the pull you have to be a people pleaser, to say sorry and that it’s okay, you hold strong and straighten your shoulders as he stares down at you.

“So that’s it? One strike and I’m out?” There’s almost a scoff when he says it, like he can’t believe you and it only adds fuel to the fire burning in your chest.

“Well you haven’t exactly made a great first impression. If a date is more important than math, that’s fine. I really don’t care. But I won’t clear my nights and sit in libraries alone for someone that doesn’t take this seriously.” You watch him take in your words, furrow between his brows getting deeper the more you talk and you just keep going. “And for the record, I don’t owe you more than one shot. What’s the point of this if you’ll just strike out?”

“I don’t strike out.”

A laugh of disbelief flies out of you, hands going up like your surrendering, “Really? That’s all you got out of what I just said?” He shrugged at you and despite his pretty face you felt nothing but contempt for him right now.

“It was a mistake. I lost track of time. If you think you’re too good to give me a shot to prove that I care, then whatever.”

“You’re an asshole! Don’t try to-to manipulate me into feeling bad about you doing something shitty. Me setting a boundary with you does not mean I think I’m too good, it means I know my time is worth something and I don’t have to put up with bullshit from people, especially someone I don’t even know!” You can see the regret on his face, the way his features soften and his shoulders slump. “Maybe next time set an alarm or don’t schedule a date on the same day as tutoring. Or maybe let someone know you won’t make it before they sit there waiting for 2 hours to help you out. And maybe if you don’t do any of that, show up and don’t be an asshole when they’re upset about it. Maybe learn that you’re not entitled to people’s time and effort just because you think you deserve it.”

Finished with your little rant you take a breath, hoping he doesn’t lash out at you because you feel your courage waning and you just want to go home and sleep.

But all he does is nod at you with dim eyes before he’s turning on his heel and walking in the other direction before you can say anything else. Not that you would, you think you’d gotten it all out when you were standing in the middle of an almost empty street scolding him like a toddler.

Maybe you’d been wrong in your theories about Steve Harrington. Or maybe you just didn’t fall into the group of people that got to see a different side of him.

————-

Steve felt like shit.

He’d lost the nerve to say anything when you tore into him like you did, and he deserved it. It was an asshole move to be 2 fucking hours late and then get upset at you being upset with him. And all for what? A girl he barely knew, who didn’t even like him and called him once every few weeks when she was bored? To be fair he didn’t really like her either, so that made him only feel more shitty.

You’d told him off, which didn’t happen often and regardless of how pissed off or embarrassed he’d been, it was hard to stay upset when he noticed the cute little twitch your nose would do when you yelled at him.

And he felt bad because you were Robin’s friend, one of her best friends! He’d been hearing about you for what seemed like forever and now that he was actually going to spend some time with you, he’d blown it. He knew you were a sweetheart, quiet most of the time and always willing to do anything for others. It had been a low blow trying to make you feel bad, he knew that. But he really needed your help here and was willing to do anything to get it. Even if it meant guilting you into it, I guess.

He was well aware of his reputation around campus, grade A asshole with girls hanging off his arms every weekend. Hell, he played into it most of the time. It was easier to just play into what people expected sometimes, even if that meant being a dick.

And okay, maybe he was guilty of being kind of cocky sometimes. He could be a little smug but he never meant to come off like too much of a prick. He liked to think it was charming sometimes.

But right now he was worried about passing algebra and making things right with you. Robin would kill him if he didn’t, and he owed it to you to at least try to be decent.

That’s how he finds himself here, standing in front of you and Eddie where you’re perched in the shade under a big tree in the center of campus. Before last night he’s never said more than a hello to you and he doesn’t think he’s ever even been this close to Eddie.

He watches the two of you, the way you lean into Eddie as he walks closer and the way Eddie narrows his eyes like a guard dog who’ll bite if he gets too close. He feels a twinge of something deep in his stomach watching you cling to Eddie and maybe it’s because you’re so pretty or maybe it’s because Robin has built you up in his head to be this angel that he’s kind of enamored with.

“Can I talk to you?” He’s wearing sunglasses so you can’t see the way his eyes dart around your face and settle on the small pout you're wearing on your glossy, peach colored lips.

“You didn’t have much to say last night, nothing good at least.” You had one hell of a backbone, he’d give you that. From what he’d heard from Robin you tended to try your best to appease the people around you so a little spark shot up his spine at the thought of you not backing down to him.

He didn’t miss the way Eddie smirked, looking between your stern eyes and the pleading puppy dog look Steve was wearing. He nudged your shoulder to grab your attention, “Oh hear him out, yeah? It won’t hurt anything.” Steve gave Eddie a quick, grateful nod and turned back just in time to see you rolling your eyes at the both of them.

“5 minutes, Harrington.”

Eddie got up, gesturing for Steve to take his place as he grabbed his stuff and sent a reassuring wink your way. Steve thinks with all the friends he has, he doesn’t have any besides Robin that really count. Maybe if he quit being an ass, you and Eddie would be his friends too.

“First I wanna apologize for being late, and for not calling or texting to let you know. I do care about school and I appreciate you taking the time to try and help me. I’m sorry I took that for granted.” He watches your lips part in what could either be shock or surprise and the small nod you give makes him keep going. “And I’m really sorry for the shitty stuff I said. It was a dick move trying to make you feel guilty when you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m lucky you even agreed to help me in the first place, s’not your job. I guess I’m just…used to getting my way. It sounds shitty to say it out loud but I guess we both know it’s true. I realize you don’t owe me anything and I haven’t done anything to earn a second chance, so I’m sorry. I’m gonna try out a group session and see how that goes, I think. But uh, yeah, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going to apologize for anything.” Well, he has to admit that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. Your shoulders had softened the slightest bit but your eyes were still weary of him.

“I don’t expect you to, you did nothing wrong. I deserved you telling me off. Hell, I probably needed it. I just wanted you to know I was sorry, you deserved to hear it.”

When you don’t say anything for a few minutes he takes that as his sign to leave, pushing himself off the ground beside you and dusting off his pants before you stop him with a sigh of his name.

“Thank you—for the apology. I can tell you mean it and that’s all I wanted. It sounds like you actually heard what I was saying and…and if you want a second shot, you’ve earned one.”

“Really?” He smiled wide at you, hand grabbing yours that you’d held out and he lifted you up with ease. You nodded at him and he felt relief all over. He didn’t realize he still had your hand in his until you gave him a squeeze and he dropped it, shrugging shyly.

“Two strikes and you are out, Steve. Don’t make me regret this.”

He couldn’t help the cocky smirk he flashed, hands going to his hips, staring down and not missing the way your throat bobbed at how close he was.

“I told you I don't strike out, didn’t I?”

—————

You were very pleasantly surprised by Steve’s apology, kind of shocked by it too. You hadn’t expected much to come out of your little rant, let alone him seeming so genuinely sorry about what had happened. And he seemed to understand what you said, he let it soak in and took accountability for it.

When he was standing there so sincere and upset, you couldn’t help but to offer him another chance. This was the Steve you thought you’d seen, kind and attentive. You were happy you weren’t totally wrong about him.

But one thing you did realize was that Steve Harrington was a pest. He got under your skin in the best way possible and lit you on fire in a way that nobody ever had. It’s like he lit a spark in you and you loved every second, even if you pretended like he got on your nerves.

In the last two weeks you and Steve had gotten together about 4 times, and it was going well! You’d realized within one session with him that he just needed some one on one time with the material. He grasps the concepts much easier when he has someone to walk him through a few problems at his own pace.

And he’d been on time to every single one, even early to a couple. Today he even showed up before you, the little eager student that he was.

You noticed the more time you spent together over the last two weeks and the more comfortable Steve became, the more he liked to tease you and watch you flush red under his stare.

Like now you’re sitting beside him—you had sat down across from him but he pouted like a child and said it would be easier if you were closer—and he’s complaining about the quadratic formula for the millionth time.

“We’re almost done, Steve. Two more problems and you’re free to go.”

“I think I should get a reward for all this.” He would probably stomp his foot at you if he was standing up and you can’t help but huff a small laugh at the little frown he’s wearing, chin in his hand and shoulders slumped in annoyance.

“You do. You’ll pass the class.”

He’s not amused by this, rolling his eyes and pinching the bare skin of your thigh where your shorts have moved from you shifting in your chair. You watch the spot turn pink and his touch, even something so quick and simple, has you buzzing.

“Lame. I was thinking more of a kiss, let me have a quick taste of those pretty lips.” No matter how many times he mentions your mouth or how’d you taste it never fails to thrill you, your face heating and your eyes darting everywhere but his.

It’s even worse when you watch the way he watches you, leaned back in his chair with his thighs spread and a smug look on his face. He’ll flash his teeth at you in a smile and send a quick wink that has you having to stop yourself from sinking between his open legs. He knows what he does to you and he loves it, soaks it up and never gets tired of it.

You’ve turned back to your own notes, leaving Steve to work on the last few problems and of course he does anything but. It’s only been a few minutes when you feel something brush across your hair, you ignore it. A few seconds later something soft hits your cheek, and you ignore it. But when it hits your forehead you turn to him with a scowl, a little ball of paper between his fingers.

“You are a child.” You swat at his chest and regret it when he catches your wrist in his hand, skin turning hot under his touch. You can’t look away from where his fingers wrap around you and it makes you dizzy to feel his rough hands against your skin.

“Hit me again, baby.”

That was another thing that had started, the pet names. He used your name sometimes, but called you baby, sweetheart, or doll when he wanted to make you stutter your words and stumble through your sentences.

He’s smirking at you, eyes light and filled with amusement at the way your neck is turning a bright pink, reaching and reaching until your ears are burning. “C’mon, please?”

“No reward for you if you don’t finish those problems.” Despite the turmoil going on inside your voice sounds cool, unaffected, and you thank god for that.

“Fine. I can be a good boy when I want to be.”

Ignoring him, you turn back to your notes, far too distracted to actually pay attention to them anymore but you still stare at the paper in front of you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he actually goes back to his work, finishing the problems quickly and you beam at him when they’re all right.

“See! I told you, just need to take your time with this stuff. I’m proud of you, Steve.” For once he’s the one blushing, brushing it off like it’s nothing and asking for his reward. You should have known, a child never forgets a promise you make them.

Leaning forward his eyes widen, darting over your face to check if this is really happening. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, not used to playing his games with him and it takes all the courage you have to let your lips brush over the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, before they find the shell of his ear. He’s still beside you, anticipating your next move and if you weren’t so hell bent on teasing him back, you’d kiss him right now.

Your lips graze him and it’s your turn to smirk when his grip on the table in front of you tightens. His knuckles are white and his jaw is set with you so close to him.

“Ice cream. That’s your reward.”

Pulling back quickly so you can see his reaction, you beam at the way his lips are parted and his chest is heaving a little harder than it should be. He just watches you with wide eyes before something settles over him. Something that makes your stomach flutter and tells you you’ve started something that you won’t win.

When he speaks you can’t help but watch the way his mouth wraps around the words so sensually you feel it all over, like he’s touching every inch of your skin and it’s addicting.

“Perfect. M’dying for something sweet.”

———-

He can’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his skin, even if it lasted all of three seconds it’s running through his mind on a loop and making his head a mess.

God he wishes you would have just bit down on him, sunk your teeth into his skin and let him feel your tongue soothe the burn.

You’re walking side by side to your favorite ice cream place now, the sun is out and bright but despite that there’s a nice breeze that cools his skin. You would have already been there but he had to spend fifteen minutes distracting you from leaving just so he could stand up without getting arrested for indecent exposure.

Remembering the small smile of victory you had makes him smile, but not as big as he’ll be smiling when he gets you back. He loves watching you preen under his touch, loves the way your chest rises and falls a little faster when he leans in towards you and loves even more the way your eyes go all big and round and your cheeks turn bright red when he says something cheeky.

Spending some time with you over the last two weeks, it’s obvious to him why Robin is so obsessed with you. You’re hilarious, sometimes you make him laugh so hard his stomach hurts and he has tears in his eyes. He’d known you were a sweetheart but getting to see it firsthand gave him a goddamn toothache. Watching the way you smile at him so proudly when something finally clicks, how you listen to someone with such intent, no matter what they’re talking about. You’re just so kind and good that he wants to be as close to you as possible at all times.

But this is the first time you two are venturing outside of the library together and he thinks he’ll spend much more time convincing you to do things with him besides math. Now that he’s got a taste he needs more, craves it.

He doesn’t even notice you’ve arrived until you’re tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and giving him a smile as sweet as honey as you wordlessly point at the ice cream shop he’d just walked past.

Pulling open the door he lets you go first and looks around to see only a few people besides them in the shop. Perfect.

Since there’s no line, you both go quickly. You opt for chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup and he decides on mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone. He notices the way your nose scrunches all cute at his choice and he rolls his eyes as he pulls out his card to pay before you can.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who’s gonna say it tastes like toothpaste or something.” Your jaw drops in offense and he has to roll his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing at how cute you are.

“I wasn’t! I only made that face because I almost got it myself.”

“And the thought of having a similar taste to me is making you feel sick?”

“No, just didn’t peg you as a mint chocolate chip guy.”

“So you’ve been thinking about pegging me.” He knows you’ve realized what you’ve done before the words even leave his mouth and he smirks at you anyways. He’ll take any chance to get you all flustered and riled up.

“Pay for my damn ice cream, Harrington.”

He doesn’t say anything, just quietly snickers to himself while you go and find a place to sit. He notices the way you choose a seat in the corner, far away from anyone else in the shop and he smiles. You probably know what’s coming, waiting for the other shoe to drop after your little stunt at the library and he loves seeing you all worked up and on edge.

He likes it a little too much.

Instead of sitting in the seat across from you he slips in the booth beside you instead, watching your eyes dart to the side to watch him carefully. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, he always takes any opportunity to be close to you.

Slinging an arm around your shoulder he lets his fingertips toy with your hair, smiling when he feels you relax into him. “Can I have a bite?” You seem to not think anything of his request, lifting your spoon up to his mouth and he lets you slip it between his lips, your eyes trained on his mouth and his on you.

He hums around the spoon and lets his teeth catch when you drag it from his mouth. You shake your head at him, leaning slightly against his chest and enjoying the quiet between you too.

It’s go time.

“Wanna bite?” He’s looking down at you and you nod sheepishly, leaning forward to meet him halfway when he moves his cone towards your mouth. Right when he reaches your lips he moves the cone an inch over and touches the ice cream against the corner of your mouth.

Before you can reach for a napkin he grabs your wrist, smiling all innocent when you look at him with confusion in your eyes. “I got it, don’t worry.”

And when he leans forward and moves his head down to be eye level with you, he smirks at the hitch in your breath when he leans forward and lets his tongue swipe over the sweetness there, his tongue catching the corner of your mouth.

The spoon clatters on the table between you and he hasn’t moved, face just inches away from yours and his hand isn’t playing with your hair anymore, it’s gripping the back of the booth so tight it hurts.

“Steve..” A breathless little plea leaves your now clean mouth and it takes everything in him not to go in for another taste. He pulls back just enough to watch your eyes flutter close and your head fall back to lay against his arm that’s still behind you. There’s a shine on your cheek from his spit and he’s so hard he can feel his heartbeat all through his body.

Despite the cockiness running through him at the way you’ve melted, his voice is quiet and breathless just like yours when he speaks where only you can hear him. “What? Just cleaning you up, messy girl.”

He feels something cold on his hand and looks down to see his ice cream melting, spilling over the cone and running down his fingers. When he looks back he sees you staring at them too, a look in your eyes that has him reeling.

If there wasn’t anyone else here he’d have you lick his fingers clean, he can see the way you’re itching to do it.

But there’s more people coming into the shop and he’s seconds away from dragging you into the bathroom so he needs to get you out of here, get into the fresh air and out of the little bubble you’ve created.

“You ready, Stevie?” He loves when you call him that, it makes his chest feel all warm and he just wants to nuzzle into you when you say it. He must have been staring at you, too busy thinking about how bad he wanted you to do anything else.

He nods, sliding out of the booth and holding out his now clean hand to you, body buzzing when you take it and he feels your skin against his. You walk out and into the street and the breeze on his skin is a life saver.

Your apartment is just two blocks away from the ice cream shop and the walk there is quiet, both of you thinking about his tongue so close to your mouth. His hand brushes yours as you walk and he feels his fingers twitch with the need to slip your hands together.

“Good reward then?” It’s you that breaks the silence and he’s grateful, his heart racing in his chest despite the smug smirk he’s wearing looking down at you.

“Oh baby, the best.”

—————

You and Steve spend about four days a week together at this point and you’re not convinced he even needs that much tutoring but you don’t complain. You’ll take any chance to spend some time with him.

The two of you have also decided to forgo the library, taking turns having it at his place or yours and most times you work on actual school stuff for about half an hour before he’s distracting you with a movie or a game or a promise of food.

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, where he licked the corner of your mouth and sent you spiraling. Having him that close was overwhelming enough, let alone feeling him on your skin.

Since then things haven’t changed much, he teases you and sometimes you retaliate but oftentimes you just sit there red faced and let him enjoy how flustered he makes you. He’s still touchy and smug all the time, but hasn’t put his tongue anywhere near you since. Unfortunately.

Tonight you’re both at your place, you lying out across your couch in a t-shirt and pajama shorts that really don’t fit you anymore but you refuse to get rid of. Steve is on the floor in front of you stretched out and scrolling through his phone while you switch between watching the tv and watching him.

He’s been less like himself tonight, quiet and there's a little furrow between his brows that has you worried. By this point he’d usually be wrapped around you, playing with your hair or rubbing at your neck. But he’d barely touched you today, barely teased you and you wondered what had happened between yesterday and today that had him so out of sorts.

Regardless of his mood, he takes time to admire the way your ass peaks out of the bottom of those shorts, his jaw clenching when he gets a peak at the smooth skin there. He can spot where your ass meets your thigh and he wants to bury his face there.

You're pulled from your thoughts when he sits up, sitting his phone on the edge of the couch beside you and using your thigh to hoist himself off the ground. “Be right back, honey.”

You just nod, stretching out your legs and trying to memorize how the heat of his palm felt gripping your skin. He goes to the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding out at the same time his phone lights up beside you.

You don’t mean to look. Really, you planned to call out to him and go back to the shitty reality tv show that was playing in front of you but when you see a name you recognize you can’t help but to look.

And you immediately regret it.

Brooke: Are you still coming over tonight? It’s been over a month, I miss you.

The blood drains from your body and you feel a pit so deep in your stomach you think you might be sick. You know Brooke, everyone knows Brooke. And you don’t keep up with that Steve does but he’s spent most of his time with you for the last month, so you can’t help but wonder if the last time he saw her was the day of his first tutoring session.

And that should make you feel a little better, should dull the raging jealousy coursing through you but it doesn’t. It doesn’t because from her text, he’s already made plans to go over. Maybe this is why he’s being so weird tonight, he’s ready to go see…her. And then you’re even more upset because it was your idea to hang out tonight and you wish he would have just said no because then you wouldn’t have seen this text and you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to cry.

You and Steve weren’t together, hadn’t even gone on a date or kissed or been anything more than friends. But that doesn’t mean you haven’t developed this huge crush on him that’s taken over every part of your brain. And the teasing, the touches, they meant something to you.

Maybe that was your mistake.

Maybe he’s that way with everyone and you read too much into it. Maybe you’ve spent so much time together because he actually did need that much help with fucking algebra and stuck around because he felt like he owed you or something.

In a matter of seconds your whole friendship was Steve was up in the air in front of you and you found yourself dissecting every interaction and graze of skin and now you just wanted to curl up into your bed and forget all of it.

You liked him, a lot more than you would care to admit and for the first time since that first night, you felt uncomfortable being in the same place as him.

The click of the bathroom lock snaps you from your spiral and you pull yourself off the couch, gathering up trash from the snacks you’d eaten so you don’t have to look him in the eye. And you shouldn’t say anything, should pretend it didn’t happen and figure this out later but you can’t help but let the words slip out when he walks back into your living room.

“Got a text while you were in the bathroom.” He doesn’t say anything but doesn’t really have the chance because you’re rushing into the kitchen and deciding that now is the best time to do those dishes you meant to do before he came over.

Hopefully he’ll just…go. You know he won’t but maybe that would be easier if you didn’t have to see him again tonight or smell him or touch him. The water is hot, too hot to be sticking your hands under but scrubbing at this plate is all that’s keeping the tears that are building from falling down your cheeks.

“Y/n…” He’s behind you now, close enough that you can feel his presence and you know if you just took one step back you’d be pressed up against his chest, you’d feel the warmth that always comes from him. So you stay where you are, the edge of the sink digging into your stomach but you try and scoot closer to it anyways.

A noncommittal hum is all he gets from you. You don’t move your head to look at him, you can’t because if you do you’re not sure you won’t cry. And you can’t let him see you cry over something that was never there.

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is low and sweet, a hint of a plea in his tone that makes your insides twist painfully. You just shake your head, scrubbing at this plate so hard you’re worried it might snap in your grip.

His hand is on your shoulder now and a shaky breath escapes your lips, the tears building behind your eyes and you will them away. There's nothing to cry over. He’s your friend. That’s all. “If you need to leave, that’s fine. Seriously it’s—you can go if you want.” Your voice cracks the slightest bit, but he notices. Of course he does.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

Your chest hurts at the endearment and you squeeze your eyes shut tight because you know he’s wearing that puppy dog look he does so well. You know his eyes are round and full of concern, or even worse, pity. You know his bottom lip is jutting out in a pout and it makes you want to take the plate you’ve scrubbed clean and smash it into a million pieces.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Steve, it’s that he won’t give in. He’ll stand behind you all night, miss his date with Brooke if that’s what it takes. He won’t give up until you’re looking at him, but you don’t know why. Don’t know why he wants to see you upset. But you turn around anyways, cheeks blotchy and a sheen of tears ready to fall at any given moment.

His lips part softly and his hands are hovering between you, not sure if he should reach over and touch you. “It’s not—she’s not…I don’t want to leave.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know why I even made the plans in the first place! I’d rather be here with you anyways.”

“Okay.”

He’s pacing in front of you now, hands fisted in his hair and he looks like he’s freaking out, chewing on his bottom lip and mumbling under his breath while you just stand there and stare at your feet on the floor.

“I’ve just been…my mind has been fucked lately and I don’t know what I even think anymore and I do stupid shit when I don’t know what do to.”

“Okay, Steve.”

“Are you just gonna keep saying okay?” He’s stopped pacing, the stare he’s wearing keeps you still in place against the sink and you feel like shrinking under his gaze.

“What do you want me to say? If you want to go hang out with her, you can! You’re an adult, Steve. You don’t have to spend all your time with me.”

“But I want to.” Heart thudding hard in your chest you try to make sense of what he’s saying, what he’s not saying. He’s giving you something, dancing around what he wants to say and you won’t give yourself false hope, won’t read too far into this. You’ve become friends, best friends even and you don’t want to fuck that up.

“Then stay.”

You should talk about this, you know it and he knows it. You should get everything out in the open so there’s no more secret plans and unshed tears but you don’t. Instead he nods at you, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you so you’re nuzzled against his chest. Neither of you say anything, just sit there wrapped up in each other for who knows how long before he pulls back and tugs you to the living room, sitting down and pulling you into his side with no words spoken between you.

The show drones on around you, but you’re not paying attention. Your mind is too busy, too many thoughts swirling around to even try and focus on anything but him. He sinks down further into the couch and you move with him, your head resting against his chest and his hand lying still on your hip.

“M’sorry I made you sad. Never want to do that, you’re too pretty to cry over me, too sweet.”

You just nod against him, closing your eyes and feeling the thump of his chest on your cheek. He doesn’t say anything else and you’re grateful.

————-

It’s been almost a week since that night in your apartment. A week since Steve got that text and you almost lost your shit. A week since you realized how deep your feelings for him actually ran.

When you had woken up that next day Steve was still there, hand still on your hip with his head thrown back in what couldn’t be comfortable as he slept beside you. He woke up soon after and both of you just…pretended it hadn’t happened. The last week had been normal, so normal you’d convinced yourself that night was some sort of glitch.

Steve continued to spend most of his days with you, continued to flash those smug grins your way when he sees something inappropriate and you continue to flush under his stare, preen under his praise and stick to his side like glue.

That’s how you are now, sprawled under that same big tree Steve had come to apologize to you under all those weeks ago. He’s sitting up with his legs stretched out in front of him and your head is on his lap, Eddie beside you hunched over and working on something you can’t see, Robin beside Steve with a book she’s not reading in her hand.

He’d also been spending more time with the three of you and it made your heart warm. All your favorite people getting along and hanging out.

“We should all go to Lansdowne this weekend.” That suggestion couldn’t have come from anyone but Steve. Eddie scrunches his nose at the thought immediately, tongue sticking out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Robin groans like she’s physically pained by the thought.

“Now don’t sound too excited.” Lansdowne was a little pub near Fenway Park that Steve was obsessed with. They usually had live music and were packed to the brim with bodies every weekend. Robin and Eddie despised it, always too crowded for their liking.

“I’ll go, Steve. But you’re buying my first drink.”

“That’s my girl!” He patted your head like you were a puppy, grin wide as he turned to stick out his tongue at Eddie and Robin who just rolled their eyes dramatically and went back to ignoring whatever Steve would ramble on about next.

Neither of you noticed the way Eddie and Robin watched you, knowing smiles on both their faces as they took the sight of you two in. They watched Steve brush your hair out of your face, a look of fondness on his face that Robin hasn’t seen him show anyone before. They watch you snuggle into him, content and comfort written all over your features.

————-

There was a small bit of regret about quickly agreeing to go out with Steve. Friday came before you knew it and you were tired, so tired from a long week of school and work. It seemed like everything that could have gone wrong this week, did and it had you mentally and physically drained.

The temptation to text Steve and bail was clawing at you, but you couldn’t. Usually spending time with him was something that made you feel better, so you hoped that was the case tonight.

It was nice out, not too hot but just warm enough to indulge in summer clothes. Dressing up for tonight was out of the question, you needed to be comfy if you were going to be squished against sweaty bodies and pulled through big crowds.

That was how you found yourself now, tucked into Steve’s side at the bar at 11pm with a short denim skirt snug around your hips that you’d found in the back of your drawer and a cropped pink t-shirt that molded to your chest. A few inches of skin showed above your skirt and the feel of Steve’s palm resting there had you blushing already.

You were both three drinks in, a nice buzz in your veins that had you giggling into his chest without embarrassment. When you’d seen him tonight, you knew you were going to need some liquid reinforcements to survive. He’d been wearing a dark green button up that he left undone, tight white tank top underneath that showed the outline of his chest. A pair of light wash denim jeans cinched around his waist with a belt.

There might have been an audible gulp at the sight of him, but with three dirty shirley’s pumping through you, you eyed him up without care, taking in every inch of him with a palpable hunger.

His breath is hot against your skin when he leans down to try and whisper in your ear, but ends up talking much louder than he meant to. “Forgot to mention it’s karaoke night.”

“I am not participating in that.”

That little frown he does when he doesn’t get his way pops up, lips pouted at you like you’d stolen his candy. “Why not?”

“Between the two of us you’re the rockstar, Harrington, not me.”

Before he could open his mouth to argue, someone called his name from across the bar, a man holding a clipboard that looked less than impressed with his job. Somehow in the short time you’d been here Steve had gotten his name down on the list for karaoke without you knowing, and it was his turn now.

He gave you a quick wink that had you almost melting before him, a small smirk as he squeezed your shoulder and started to push his way through the crowds of people. “Eyes on me, baby.”

Liked you’d be able to look anywhere else.

You watch him hop up on the small stage that’s only a few feet tall, no hint of nervousness on his face as he smiles at the small crowd that’s paying attention to him. There’s lights focused on him and you think he was made to be in the spotlight with how good he looks up there. You’re somewhere in the middle of the crowd but he spots you easily, winking before he strips off his button down, tossing it to the side of him.

The sight of him up there with his tank top tucked nicely into his jeans does little to help with the fuzziness you were already feeling from the drinks. You’re careful not to drool at his arms on display, bulging slightly when he lifts them to grip his hands around the mic.

“Hello, Boston!”

You’d think this was his personal show the way the crowd cheered back at him, encouraging what you know was nothing but mischievous behavior. He’s getting the attention of more of the bar the longer he stands up there and you can’t blame them, he’s a sight to see.

“You all look beautiful tonight!”

A laugh bubbles out of you when the beginning notes of Mr. Brightside by the Killers boom from the speakers behind him, not sure why you expected anything else from him.

He’s practically bouncing on his heels as he sings the first few notes—and so is his hair. But your laughter and amusement is quickly replaced by something fiery and strong that builds in your stomach as you watch him.

His hands are wrapped around the microphone in front of him, eyes screwed shut when he gets to the chorus and you feel like you’re on fire. During a pause his head is thrown back, throat bobbing for everyone to see and you try to trace the beads of sweat running down his throat from your spot in the middle of the bar.

When he starts singing again—and fuck he’s good—his eyes are open and on yours, coming so close to the microphone you can see the way his lips pucker against it on certain notes and you’re thankful it’s so packed in here, the people around you keeping you from falling to the ground.

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes, 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside

About seven feet are between you but with the bright lights shining on him you watch in awe as his raspberry lips wrap around the words and his tongue swipes out and darts across them every few seconds. He looks ethereal on that stage, hair slicked back from running his fingers through it and hips rocking side to side in time with the beat.

His voice is pure silk and honey, like he was born to sing this song and it has your heart racing so fast in your chest it’s hard to catch your breath. He’s jumping around, putting on a noteworthy performance while the patrons around you yell and dance with him.

Every once in a while his nose bumps against the mic and you can’t get over how alluring he looks with his lips grazing the mic. He’s captivating, stealing the attention of almost everyone in the room now and your heart swells in your chest.

It takes you a second longer to realize the song has ended, cheers and hollering making your ears ring as he basks in the attention on stage. You can see that cocky smirk from here, his eyes dark and cheeks red as he blows you a kiss when he catches your eyes again.

Maybe you could use another drink after all.

—————

Steve was sweaty from karaoke, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck, button up he’d been wearing thrown somewhere and he was sure he’d never see it again. The tank top he wore was clinging to his skin and he wished he could peel it off, the stickiness in the air of the bar doing nothing to cool him down.

But he saw the way you watched him up there, your eyes trained on his mouth or his hands the whole time and it made him feel electric. The way you licked your lips like he was your next meal could have him on his knees for you in an instant.

He’d lost you when he got off the small stage, eyes searching through the crowd and sighing in relief when he finds you standing by the bar, chin in your palm as you swirl your drink around.

That relief is short-lived when he sees some douche come up beside you, a charming grin plastered on his face and his eyes dark as he takes you in. Steve sees red when he places one of his hands on your waist, his palm touching your bare skin since you’d chosen a crop top for tonight.

Possessiveness stirs in his belly, hands fisted at his side at the laugh you give him. It’s fake, he can tell, but it still makes his jaw clench uncomfortably.

You’re not interested in this guy, he can see that. You’ve leaned back enough to create some space between the two of you and your eyes dart around the bar quickly and he knows you’re looking for him.

Little did you know that even if you weren’t looking for him, he’d still be there. He’d always be there. Couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He’d become addicted to your strawberry scent and your sweet little giggles. He’d become addicted to you.

It’s when this asshole lifts his hand to brush a piece of your hair away from your face that Steve starts to move, shoulders shoving through the crowd with ease and he sees the way your body relaxes when you catch sight of him heading towards you.

The thought of someone else touching your skin, feeling how smooth it is and how it warms up under their touch has him gritting his teeth. His jaw twitches thinking about you looking up at someone besides him with stars in your eyes.

When he’s within reach he lays his hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh there and placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Told ya I’d be right back, doll.” He doesn’t acknowledge the man beside him, eyes focused on yours.

Your thighs clamp shut around his hand and a devious smirk plays on his lips at the feeling. “Who’s this?” He cocks his head towards the man that had been trying to talk to you, not looking his way but finally acknowledging his presence. Douchebag is still there, watching the scene unfold in front of him with little amusement.

“I-I don’t know. We were just talking.” Steve hums at you, eyes drinking in the little drops of sweat rolling down your neck and down your shirt. He’s itching to lean forward and collect them on his tongue, to taste any part of you he can get his hands on.

You yelp when his fingers pinch at your inner thigh, hands coming up to grip his forearm in surprise. He doesn’t miss the way your hips shifted forward though, searching for his touch instinctively.

“Don’t want these boys talking to you, do you?” He’s leaning closer to you but still talking loud enough that the prick who can’t take a hint can hear him. You shake your head quickly and he smiles. “It’s because you’re my girl, isn't it baby? Want them to know you’re mine to take home, mine to play with, mine to keep.”

At this point he’s not even talking for the benefit of saving you from some creep in a bar, you both know that. He’s not just staking his claim so they’ll leave you alone, he’s telling you the truth, what you both already know but refuse to talk about. He’s yours as much as you are his. It’s been that way for weeks.

For him it’s been that way since you ripped him a new one, tore into him for being an asshole with your big round eyes that twitched in anger at his attitude.

You’re nodding at him with blown out eyes, thighs still keeping his hand trapped between them. The guy you’d been talking to is long gone but neither of you seem to notice or care.

“So say it.” His lips are tilted in a smirk, knowing eyes watching you shift and squirm under his stare. He feels himself thickening in his pants, head of his cock pressed up against the zipper painfully but he doesn’t care. He’d stand here in pain all night if you kept looking at him like that.

“I’m your girl.”

His chest swells with pride, grinning down at you and watching you just eat up the unsaid praise. You’re blooming under his gaze, chest puffing out the slightest bit and his mouth waters.

It’s hard to breathe when you’re looking at him like that. His stomach feels tight and a feeling he can’t quite describe takes over. He wants to feel your skin on his, to taste you, smell you, anything you’ll give him. But he also feels like he could be sick, just looking at you being too much for him right now.

He uses his thumb to tap on your thigh so you’ll open them for him, pulling his hand out and tugging on your wrist to pull you back to the middle of the dance floor. Your obedience thrills him, makes his spine tingle and heart race. He should’ve known you were a good girl, the best one really. You don’t even question him as he grips your hips in his hand, pulling you flush against him while the music booms around you.

Neither of you are really moving, just standing there pressed together while bodies push and move around you. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer so that he can lean down and talk in your ear where you’ll hear him.

“Saw the way you were watching me up on the stage earlier.”

Your hands are clinging to his shirt and he feels your grip tighten, smiling knowingly against your ear. He loved the way you watched him, the way your eyes never left him like you were mesmerized.

“You looked good up there, like a natural.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm, my rockstar.”

The praise shoots down his spine and makes his body buzz. He’s watching the way your hair flows over your shoulder and he wants to tug on it, make your head fall back and expose your throat to him.

You pressed against him mixed with the sticky air surrounding you is too much, his head feels fuzzy and he’s seconds away from biting on your lips and licking into your mouth.

“Let’s get out of here.”

———————

In hindsight, deciding to take the train at 1 am on a Friday night was a stupid idea. Anyone and everyone in the city chose that time to pile on. For a second you’re worried you’ll lose Steve in the crowd of people but a few seconds later you feel his fingers slip through yours and tug you to his side.

“Can’t risk losing my precious cargo.”

The ringing in your ears is either from the feel of his skin touching yours or the tell tale screech of the train approaching. When it pulls up in front of you, your cringe at how crowded it already is, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat before you even step on. The doors open and Steve is pulling you through the bunches of people, tugging you through and moving you to stand in front him when he sees an opening.

Your back is pressed against the opposing doors and you sigh in relief at the coolness it provides. That relief is short lived when you peek over Steve’s shoulder to see more people piling on. He presses closer to you to make room and your heart thuds harshly against your chest.

His feet are spread slightly to be on either side of yours, arms over your head to hold on to the railing and it feels like he’s caging you in. He’s pressed up against you completely, your chin touching his chest and lips hover near your forehead.

It doesn’t help that his arms are on full display, button up he was wearing long gone since before karaoke and instead adorned in a white tank top that’s like a second skin. It’s hugging his chest and waist and it’s taking everything in you not to lean forward and nip at his arm.

And then you’re thinking about how he looked on stage. Pure sex as he captivated the crowd with his effortless charm and talent. You think you could watch him like that forever.

Fuck. All you could feel was him, his breath on your skin and his body keeping yours snug against the doors. You’re not sure you could even move, not that you wanted to. Tilting your head back an inch you look up at him, eyes glancing over his strawberry mouth that’s tilted into a smirk, looking up further to see how he’s watching you closely.

Honey eyes staring into yours scream mischief and when you breathe in you feel your knees falter, a sweetness washing over your senses. Just the smell of him was enough to have your skin tingling, hints of cherry and vanilla from where you were practically nuzzled against his throat.

Your hand was wrapped tightly against the pole in front of you and the feel of the cool metal against your palm did little to help with the heat you felt burning through your chest. The train lurched forward and the hand that was dangling by your side shot out to fist at the fabric of Steve’s shirt. The fucking white tank top he was wearing.

“Eager, are we?” His tone was teasing and when you took a quick glance down to see a sliver of his stomach showing where you had his shirt tight in your grasp, your thighs squeezed together involuntarily.

“Oh please.You just happened to be the closest thing to me, Harrington.”

He feigned offense, knowing smirk never leaving his face and you stifled a groan when you felt his stomach twitch against your hand. You thought that if you had to be pressed against him for much longer you might just pass out.

When you look up to see you still have a few stops before yours, you release your grip on his shirt and try not to notice the disappointment that floods through you when your hold on him is gone. He seems to notice too, eyebrows furrowing for a split second before his expression goes back and he’s smiling down at you again.

“Ya know,” He tilts his head to the side like he’s wondering about something important but his expression holds nothing good. “You look good like this, pressed up against me all flushed and pretty.”

Arousal seeps down your spine and curls around your belly like a boa constrictor, your throat all of a sudden dry and you can’t seem to do anything but blink up at him.

“Going dumb already? You really are precious cargo.”

You have about an ounce of self control left and that’s what keeps you from letting a whimper slip into the sticky air between you. You know he can read your emotions on your face but you try and school your features anyways, lifting your leg that’s trapped between his and pressing your weight down on his foot.

It just makes his sickly sweet smile even bigger and your breath hitches when he leans down to press his lips against the shell of your ear. You dig your fingertips into your palm when he lets his tongue swipe against his bottom lip and it catches your skin as it does.

“Trying to hurt me, baby? Why don’t you bite me next? Pretty please?” He brings his hand up between you as he talks, uses his thumb to swipe at your bottom lip and if you weren’t on the fucking train you’d part your lips for him and take his thumb into your mouth. You think you want that a little too much to be so close to him right now.

For the first time since you’ve moved here, the train is your saving grace. The doors pull open and the cool air of the night hits you, breaking you from whatever little trance Steve had put you under. It clears out enough that he can step to your side now, giving you some much needed space to try and get yourself together.

The chatter around you has died down and while you feel marginally more in control of yourself, the smell of Steve and the feel of his arm brushing against yours beside you is enough to keep you on your toes.

“Cooling down over there?”

“Yes actually, no thanks to you.”

He shrugs his shoulders innocently and if he hadn’t just been whispering in your ear about liking the pain then you might actually believe the sweet look he was wearing on his face. “Oops.”

The next stop is yours and while you’re trying to figure out if Steve is coming with you or if you’re gonna have to figure out some weird goodbye, he’s already five steps ahead. When the train comes to a stop and the doors open he’s grabbing your hand again and pulling you out of the train and into the breeze that cools the sweat on your neck.

“M’gonna walk you home, okay?” You nod wordlessly, letting your hands swing gently between you as you make your way through the now quiet streets. Everyone is either deep into the city until the bars close or already tucked away in their beds after a long work week. Few people litter the streets but you don’t hear much besides the buzz of the train pulling away and the soft hum coming from the person beside you.

It doesn’t take long before you reach your building nestled in between two others that look just like it and while you fumble through your bag for your keys you feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the bar.”

A noncommittal hum is all you give him and he’s not a fan of that, reaching forward and plucking your apartment key from between your fingers before you even register what’s happening. You reach out automatically but he’s pulling back and out of your reach.

“Why?”

“Why what?” You know what he’s asking and you’re just making this harder for the both of you but he’s had you so on edge since he got on stage and was all…rockstar and sex that you’re scared about what might come out of your mouth if you’re not careful.

“Why have you been so quiet since we left the bar?”

“Not much to say I guess…”

“Bullshit.”

You blink at him owlishly, lips parted in surprise but you can’t deny the little tingle that starts at your toes and makes its way up your body at him calling you out. “Excuse me?” Your voice sounds pathetic and breathless to your own ears at this point so you can only imagine how you look to Steve right now.

“I call bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you blush every time you make eye contact or you look at my arms,” Fuck he caught you. “Or the way you clench those pretty thighs everytime I whisper in your ear or get a little too close to you.”

Your chest is rising and falling harshly and if he wasn’t taking up every inch of your brain right now you’d be embarrassed by how he had you panting at him. Any confusion he had vanishes and you curse yourself for being so easy for him to read. Like a fucking open book.

“Oh that’s it. Scared of what might come out of that pouty little mouth, aren’t you? You listen to me talk to you all sweet and dirty and it just makes you all dumb, doesn’t it? S’cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up! You…you idiot.” It was a weak attempt at a comeback and you felt yourself scrunch your nose at yourself while Steve chuckled. He stepped closer, his hands on his hips as he looked down at you.

“That’s the best you got?” You were toe to toe now—literally—and you felt yourself shrinking under his gaze. You hated how good he was at making you squirm, how you felt his words on your skin like standing under the sun in the summer heat. But most of all you despised that you didn’t hate it at all.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A big one.”

He flashed his teeth at you, hand going up to his chest like your words hurt him. “Oooh there ya go, that’s a little better. But if you’re gonna call me names, I’ve got some you can try. How about dadd—”

“Steve!” You practically hissed at him, smacking his shoulder and huffing like a child at the way he laughed loudly at your expense. He laughed so hard there were little crinkles in the corner of his eyes, grin so big his dimples popped out and you had to stop yourself from poking at it.

“Alright, alright. No need to get violent, baby. At least take me to dinner first.” Rolling your eyes you snatched your key from him while he was occupied, turning to your door and muttering under your breath. Asshole. Jerk. Moron. Hot. Hot. Hot.

He laid his hand on your shoulder softly to get your attention and when you turned back he was rolling his lips together, trying to keep his amusement at bay for your sake. He had a way of doing that you’d noticed, looking like a little puppy dog when he wanted to. You hated how much it worked.

“M’done, I swear. For tonight at least. Thanks for coming out with me, I had a lot of fun.”

“I did too, even if you’re a pest.”

“Oh c’mon, you love it.” I do. God I love it so much it’s kind of sick.

“In your dreams, Harrington,” You knew you set yourself up when he opened his mouth, that gleam in his eye that meant nothing but trouble. You beat him to it though, and the little pout he wore made you melt. “Text me when you get home safe, okay? And thanks for walking me home.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

Reaching up like he was going to sweep you hair out of your eyes, he must’ve changed his mind because he pinched your cheek instead, laughing to himself when you grumbled at him and smacked his hand away.

You’d watched as he walked away, watched until you couldn’t see him anymore before you finally went inside, trudging up the stairs to your apartment and feeling your nerves settle once you were finally alone.

It was like you could breathe again, that ache you’d felt all night still thumping but more dull now than it had been in his presence. You finally felt cool and relaxed. Until your phone buzzed about twenty minutes later.

Steve: Made it home safe and sound. Not a scratch on me.

Steve: Well besides the ones you left on me when you were pawing at me on the train!

Y/n: Idiot!

Steve: We really need to work on expanding your vocabulary. Maybe I could tutor you. :)

Steve: Whoops I meant ;), it’s hard to type one handed.

You gasped and you swear you’d just burst into flames from how hot your face felt staring down at your phone. Was he…he wouldn’t. But did you mind if he did? No. Fuck, no. But you couldn’t just let him know that.

Y/n: Steve Harrington you are sick!

Steve: What?? I’m eating cereal and texting you! Trying to multitask here.

Steve: Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy girl.

He’d played you and you took the bait so easily! At this point you should know he’d take any opportunity to embarrass you, you both knew you loved it. He loved getting you all flushed and squirmy and you loved pretending like it didn’t light you up inside.

Now you were thinking about him touching himself, your thighs sore from squeezing together and your heart racing. You wanted to know how he looked doing it, what he sounded like…Jesus Christ you needed to get a grip. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed in your hand that you realized you hadn’t texted him back.

Steve: Your cheeks are all hot, aren’t they?

Oh fuck off.

Y/n: No! They have no reason to be!

Steve: Oh they definitely are. You’re all hot and bothered thinking about me only using one hand to text you. You’ve got a dirty mind!

He was taunting you, you knew that. Baiting you and wrapping it up with a nice shiny bow. And you’d take it every time.

Y/n: You knew what you were doing! You set me up.

Steve: Little ol’ me? As if I’d ever do such a thing! I’m offended you’d even suggest that.

Just imagining the shit eating grin he was wearing riled you up even more, your blood pumping and your fingers twitching as you typed furiously back to him.

Y/n: Playing innocent won’t work with me, Harrington. I know your tricks and they only make my cheeks red because they piss me off! Go fuck yourself, idiot!

Steve: You wanna watch? ;)

You thought about throwing your phone at the wall, watching it smash into a thousand tiny pieces and letting every trace of that arrogant, smug, hot asshole wash away. But you were not so secretly relishing in the back and forth, your tummy a ball of excitement.

Y/n: In your dreams.

His reply was instant and it made you fist your bed sheets tight, toes curling in your socks and if you were standing you’d be sure to fall to your knees.

Steve: Oh you know it, baby.

Steve: Maybe next time. You’ve been a dirty girl calling me all those mean names. Come kiss it better?

When a picture came in seconds after his last reply you dropped your phone to your bed, eyes wide and pulse thumping in your ears as you took in the image before you.

Steve lying on his bed, shirtless. He was lying against his navy blue pillowcase, one arm thrown behind his head and he showed just enough of his torso for you to see a patch of chest hair that made your fingernails dig so deep into your palm you were surprised you didn’t draw blood. His hair was tousled like he’d tugged at it and his mouth held the most perfect little pout. You assumed that’s what you were supposed to be kissing better.

It had been several minutes since you’d moved so it didn’t make sense why your breathing was so heavy and why there was sweat gathering at the base of your neck. All you could think of was leaving your mark over his chest and shoulders, deep purple spots that you know he’d wear with a proud smile on his face.

If he could see you now…you’d never hear the end of it.

Y/n: Meh.

He must have been sitting there waiting for your reply, the three little dots popping up almost instantly after you hit send.

Steve: Meh????

Steve: It took you 10 minutes to reply with meh??

Steve: Liar.

A sick satisfaction coursed through you and you felt a small sense of victory reading his replies. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Steve was a little upset at your lack of reaction.

Y/n: It took me 10 minutes because I wasn’t waiting by my phone for your reply. And I’m not a liar, just not overly impressed.

You were a liar. A huge lying liar who was only able to do this over text because if he was in front of you’d have been stumbling over your words and blushing like an idiot.

And that little victory you had lasted all of 2 minutes because when your phone started ringing, that ball of dread from forever ago came barreling back into you harder and faster than before.

Pressing accept you held the phone up to your ear and tried to get your breathing under control. You were gonna blow your cover quickly if you didn’t.

“H-hello?”

“Not impressed, hm?” There was an edge to his voice, one you didn’t recognize but it had a sense of sternness, of authority that had your hands twitching in your lap.

“Nope. Sorry.” The words practically squeaked out of you, the less you said the better when it came to Steve. If you spoke too much he’d be able to know what you were thinking, he probably already did. You swore he had some magical powers or something.

“Really? And you’re sure? I only ask because earlier just looking at my arms had you panting like a dog at my feet.”

Your face burned with humiliation and you cursed yourself for the way it turned you on. Fuck. Any control you had was quickly unraveling and falling apart in front of you.

“Steve, I—”

“Because when it took you so long to reply, you know what I thought? I thought you’d slipped your hand into your panties like some perv. That was my theory, but I can admit it when I’m wrong.”

“I-I wasn’t! I’m not I just—”

“But you thought about it, didn’t you?”

And well of course you had. How could you not when he looked like he did and when you could practically hear him in your ear whispering filthy, teasing things.

You pictured him now, standing at the foot of your bed with his shirt off and his hands on his hips. How he’d shake his head at you, scolding you like a teacher scolding their student for not doing their homework. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he riles you up and it leaves you reeling.

“I, well I—”

“Just a yes or no, doll. Did you think about it?”

“Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, hanging in the air and you should want to take it back, to tell him no and hang up but you don’t. You sit there and bask in it, the embarrassment, the arousal. You sit and wait for him to give you something—like a dog waiting for a treat.

“That’s what I thought. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m beat! You’ve kept me up far past my bedtime. Goodnight, perv. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Before you can get a word out, a plea or a curse or anything he’s hanging up the phone and leaving you with your mouth hanging open and an ache so intense it makes your head spin.

Idiot. Asshole. Jerk. Hot. Hot. Hot.

He’s left you speechless, sitting there still on your bed with your phone in your hand and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You’re aching and wet, embarrassingly wet, and you feel a need for him so deep in your bones it’s making you feel insane.

A knock on your front door startles you, it’s harsh and quick and your pulse spikes immediately. Holding your phone in your hand you make your way through the living room, a seed of worry nestled in your stomach because who would be here knocking on your door at almost 3 am.

Who besides Steve, of course.

Just as you’re moving close to look through the peephole, he calls your name from the other side of the door. Excitement pools low in your belly, hairs on your arm standing tall at the promise of him just inches away. Pulling open the door you’re met with the same Steve you’d left just a short time ago, but now he’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts that hang low on his hips and his hair is still damp from the shower you’re sure he’s taken. A pink t-shirt is stretched over his broad shoulders and there’s a simple silver chain hanging around his neck.

How does he always look this good? You don’t say anything, opting to step to the side and allow him through and he steps in wordlessly, giving your arm a squeeze when he passes by.

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he makes his way to your room and you stand there dumbfounded, wondering what the fuck is going on and why he hasn’t said a word to you after showing up at your door at 3 am.

Following him is a simple choice, one that leads you to your room to see Steve sitting on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide, hands behind him flat on the comforter while he leans back the slightest bit. He’s stunning and it has you fighting the urge to sing to your knees on the carpet in front of him.

It feels like a staring contest between the two of you. But instead of looking in your eyes, Steve is letting his gaze run over your body. You’re in an oversize shirt that reaches about mid thigh, nothing underneath but a pair of panties that Steve ruined hours ago.

He finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth that makes you feel jittery. “W-what are you doing here?” You can’t help but to stumble over your words when he’s looking at you like that. Like he could take a bite out of you.

“What do you think?”

“Missed me already, Harrington?”

“Always.” Some of the smugness he carries with him has melted away with the admission and it makes your heart swell in your chest. The thought of him missing you provides a surge of warmth through your body.

“I missed you too,” Your voice is timid, his stare making you feel exposed to him, “but I thought you were going to bed.”

“Well that was my plan, but I couldn’t fall asleep knowing you were over here making a mess because of me and not come help clean it up.”

Your toes curl into the carpet below you and you hope it will be able to ground you a little when you feel so…you don’t even know what you feel. Your stomach is twisting and your palms are sweaty and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

One of his hands lifts to motion you forward and you do so without hesitation, your feet carrying you to him instantly. When you get close enough you go to get on your knees instinctively and he stops you with a small, proud smile. “No, no, I’m here to take care of you, baby.” And while the notion fills you with excitement, you can’t help but feel a little upset that you won’t get to put your mouth on him.

And of course this just makes him smile even bigger, eyes bright as he takes in your frown and can’t help but shake his head at you.

“Before we do anything I just…I want you to know I care about you, yeah? This isn’t some one night thing for me. I want everyday with you, everyday that you’ll give me.”

“I care about you too, Steve. I think that was obvious when I scrubbed all the paint off that plate after I saw that text on your phone,” He huffs a small laugh at you, hands settled on your hips, “You’ve become such an important part of my life and I—I like you a lot, even when you’re mean to me.”

He scoffs like the idea is foreign, playful glint in his eye the whole time and it drives you crazy. He has that look, the one that tells you he’s about to say something that will either make you hit him or drop back down to your knees.

“Come give daddy a kiss then.”

It’s the former, hand coming up to smack at his chest hard despite the way the name makes your stomach clench and your spine tingle. He just laughs, loud and steady, pulling you down onto his lap and smashing his lips against yours.

His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about, full and slick with spit and you feel yourself pulse when he smiles into the kiss. His nose bumps with yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair and letting his fingers tug and pull while you push closer to him.

“Fuck—you taste so good.” You don’t even realize the words come from you until you feel Steve groan against you, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip as if to taste you too.

When you finally have to pull back for air, your forehead is pressed against his and you both try and catch your breath. He looks like a dream, mouth shiny and swollen, eyes glazed over as he takes you in. He tastes sweet, the kind of taste you crave at the end of the day or when you need a pick me up. Or just because.

He’s shifted back a little so you’re not hanging off him and the edge of the bed, your thighs wrapped around his hips and your chests almost touching from how close you are. He’s tugging at the ends of your shirt, trying to pull it off but it’s trapped between your thighs and his. You lean up just enough for him to pull it free, tugging it over your head with ease.

What you’ve managed to forget in the heat of the moment, what Steve doesn’t know but is quick to find out is the little secret no one but Robin knows about—and she only knows because you needed moral support.

“Oh holy fuck,” You’ve never seen his eyes so wide and his mouth is dropped open so big it’s almost kind of scary. Somehow you’d forgotten your nipples were pierced, maybe it was from Steve kissing you stupid, you’re not sure. But he’s looking at your tits now like he’s got gold in front of him.

Your mouth opens to tease him but before you can speak he’s moving his hand to cover your mouth, eyes never leaving your boobs and you have to laugh against him.

“Don’t—you can’t say a thing right now or I’ll cum in my pants.” He sounds so serious, so pained that you whine against his hand all greedy and impatient. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, doll. Think I could cum from just lookin’ at em for too long.”

You nod eagerly against his hand, the idea of that turning you on even more than you thought possible. He finally removes his hand but only because he can’t hold out on touching you any longer. His palms come up to cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and you sigh in relief at the feeling of his touch. He uses two fingers to tug gently at the little silver barbell that runs through them, watching your face for your reaction and you don’t disappoint. Your mouth falls open, a small moan slipping out and your hands grip his shoulders tight.

“Fuck me. God you’re perfect, so pretty and sweet for me. Shit, m’losing my goddamn mind here, baby.” Half his words are almost slurred, attention moving between your tits and your face as he tugs and thumbs at your nipples. The furrow in his brow makes him look genuinely concerned and you throb at the thought of him being so mesmerized by you.

He’s so occupied with your pretty tits in his face he doesn’t notice when you slide back a little, a few inches of space between you now. You’ve been soaked and aching for far too long and you think if he doesn’t touch you in the next few seconds you might cry.

You move one of your hands to grab his, tugging it from your nipple and sliding it down between you to press against the front of your panties. They’re messy, your thighs sticky and you hope he understands your not so subtle hint.

He does, cursing at the feel of how wet and hot you are even through the thin layer separating him from you. “Poor thing, didn’t even know someone could be this messy.” Your hips shift, desperately trying to get his fingers to catch on your clit. “Who made you this desperate, huh? Was it that prick from the bar?”

You’re shaking your head but it’s not enough for him, hand moving away and you gasp, pulling it back and giving him what he wants. “You. It’s you—you did this to me.”

Instead of saying anything he dips his fingers past the band of your panties, both of you groaning at the contact. He circles your clit twice, thighs twitching around him before he’s dipping down to your sopping hole, teasing his finger there before swiping through your slit to collect some of the slick that’s there.

You want to whine when he pulls his hand out but it fades away at the sight of his glistening fingers, how he studies them for a minute before slipping them into his mouth and humming in content.

“Way better than mint chocolate chip.”

Next thing you know he’s slipping his hand back between you, the imprint of his knuckles against your panties hot enough to make you drool down his chest.

Thumb pressed to your clit he moves in slow circles, just enough pressure to make you need more, pressing down onto his hand and trying to swivel your hips. “Want you, Steve. Need you.”

“I know baby, gotta stretch you out first.” At the same time he’s speaking he’s slipping his middle finger inside of you with no resistance and it’s not enough. It’s like he has a connection to your mind, slipping another finger in immediately and you feel that ache start to untangle itself the slightest bit.

With two of his much larger fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit, you already feel the signs of an orgasm building deep in your belly. You feel that burn all over, grinding down onto him in search of that pressure that’ll make your eyes roll back. It’s when he curls his fingers that you lurch forward, face nuzzling his neck as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision blur.

“S-steve..” You’re almost there already, walls clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside while he speeds up on your clit. There’s a twitch in your thighs that he noticed, hushed praises in your ear when that string begins to fray, threatening to snap in seconds.

And then it stops.

There’s no more curling his fingers and his thumb is still on your clit. You pull back just enough to curse at him, his hand wet and sticky with evidence of just how much you were enjoying that. But when you see his face you know you’re fucked. He’s got that shine in his eyes that screams trouble, a devious little smirk on his lips as he watches the frustration build behind your eyes.

“Something to say, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you, daring you to curse at him—but you don’t. You can’t fathom the idea of him taking this all away so you remain quiet, shaking your head at him and hoping your obedience will pay off soon. He nods at you as if to say “that’s what I thought”, hand coming up to tuck your face back into the crook of his neck as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you again.

You’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks turn bright red because you can hear how wet you are, the small little noise it makes every time he drives his fingers back into has you pressing further into him. He has goosebumps on skin from the feel of your hot breath against his throat from where you’re practically panting, little open mouthed kisses left for as far as you can reach.

It doesn’t take long before that feeling is building back up, stronger than before and you curse against his skin. “Snug little cunt, greedy for it, isn’t she?” You think you chant a whispered “yes” into him but you can’t be sure, overwhelmed by the tight, quick circles he’s rubbing on your swollen clit and the wave of pleasure you feel beginning to wash over you.

And then it stops again.

This time you can’t help the whine that slips out, hands fisting his t-shirt as you writhe in his lap. He chuckles in your ear, smooth and teasing and it makes you mortified when you feel yourself drip down his hand at his meanness.

“You can handle one more time, yeah? Then I’ll give you my cock.” The promise of finally being full of him is enough to push down your frustrations, eagerness and excitement taking over. He lets you get away with a nod, picking up a faster pace than before and you think it’s not for you, but that his patience is wearing thin.

He’s rubbing harshly against that sponges spot inside of you with every pass of his fingers, your mouth dropped open with no sound coming out as you try and hold off. It’s too much, too intense and you feel lightheaded at how every nerve in your body is lit up and buzzing.

But apparently he knows your body better than you do, stopping just seconds before you begin to tip over and your shoulders sag in relief and annoyance at the same time.

“Please, please.” They’re quiet little pleas that he can't even hear but can feel against his skin and he coos at you. It’s condescending and should piss you off but instead has you nudging your nose against his for comfort.

“Told ya I’d give you my cock, honey. Lay down and let me see you.” You move to lay back, watching him stand over you and strip his shirt and shorts off. He’d forgone underwear and you thank god for that. The sight of his cock, hard and shiny with precum as your thighs falling open for him automatically. He notices this, of course he does. He’s thick and you’re suddenly very grateful for the prep he just did, you don’t think he’d fit otherwise.

When he leans down to pull a condom from the back pocket of his shorts—presumptuous cocky bastard—you feel the urge to stop him but refrain. You’re already crossing all these invisible lines, you need to have at least some self control. Even though you’re desperate to feel him bare. You’re captivated by him, watching him roll the condom on and clenching around nothing as he hisses through his teeth at the contact.

Seeing him for the first time, how hard and flushed he is makes you regret even more not getting your mouth on him. Next time, you promise yourself. You’d thought you’d be nervous for this, but you think you’re too overwhelmed with a need for him that there’s no room left to be nervous or anxious.

Climbing on the bed he moves between your open legs, hands on either side of your head as he holds himself up over you. His cock is lying against you, head touching your clit and it’s making it impossible to lie still. “You still want this?” His face is serious, and you want to squish his cheeks at his consideration for you despite his hard cock pressing against you.

“Please, Steve. I want this—I need you.” It’s all the confirmation he needs, reaching one hand between you to take his cock, running it through your slit and groaning at the way you twitch below him. After bumping it against your clit he moves down to your entrance, pushing in the slightest bit and squeezing his eyes shut at the feel of you clenching down on him.

The burn of him pushing forward stings, but it’s a welcome pain that has you gripping the sheets below you, looking for something to steady you when you feel like you’ll float away. “Keep going, please keep going.” You’re pleading below him, mouth dropping open when he pushes in. He has to pause when he’s in all the way, his patch of public hair at the base of his cock catching at your clit and you gasp.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” His forehead is pressed against your cheek, his teeth scraping against the edge of your jaw as he tried to collect himself. “I don’t—shit I don’t know how—goddamn baby, never felt anything this good before in my life.”

He throbs inside of you when you whine, craning your neck up just an inch to take the silver chain dangling above you between your teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, gonna kill me.” You lift your hips off the bed, urging him to move and moan around the chain when he slips deeper inside of you. He pulls himself up to look at you, hair falling around your head like an angel with blotchy cheeks and fucked out eyes.

Thrusting forward, the tip of his cock nudges against that spot inside of you and you clench around him so hard his arms almost give out above you. This has been building up for weeks and with the way he edged you earlier, you won’t last long. He knows as much, thrusting into you and using one hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit.

“Feel like I’m having deja vu, having you pressed against me like this, yeah?” It was just hours ago you were on the train, a few more layers between you but pressed up against him all the same.

The chain pops from your mouth when he moves your hands to lay beside your head, lacing your fingers together as he stretches over you. Your piercings press against his chest just right and it has your tummy tightening, the added friction enough to have your head spinning.

He looks mouthwatering above you, hair out of place and falling over his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and he’s holding his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves between watching your face and the way your tits bounce with every thrust of his cock. There’s little drops of sweat running down his sculpted nose and slipping onto your chest, your cute little gasps hitting his ears.

You know you’re done for when he leans down, lips pressed to your ear and his harsh breath tickling your skin.

“Takin’ your daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you, doll?”

Eyes screwed shut you claw at his shoulders, his name leaving your lips in a curse and you both can see the way the nickname makes your face flush a shade darker of red, eyes turning dark and fingers digging into him. “Dirty girl, acting like you don’t like it when I can feel you making a mess of me, this pretty little pussy hugging me tight when I call myself daddy.”

“Fu-fuck, Steve. Gonna cum—m’gonna cum.” Your words are hushed and quick in his air, rope beginning to snap and if he stops right now you might actually kill him.

“Go ahead, soak my cock, pretty girl. Show me who I belong to, yeah?” It’s all it takes, rope snapping and sparks shooting down to your toes as you tug at his hair, your thighs tight as your orgasm crashes through you. It feels like it goes on forever, your body taught and ears buzzing and you can barely make out the faint curses coming from above you.

He belongs to you, and he will as long as he’ll have you.

You feel yourself start to come back down, your chin pinched in between Steve’s fingers and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing the first snowfall of the year. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips grinding into yours and his breaths uneven and sharp. “Where…where do you want it baby?”

Not sure that you can make coherent sentences right now, you reach up to cup your breasts, Steve’s eyes widening before the most pitiful cry leaves his lips. He thrusts into you one, two, three more times and each one has you gasping below him as aftershocks of your orgasm zing through you.

He pulls out quickly, pulling off the condom with a sharp inhale and you think he looks good like this, all desperate and pathetic for you like you always are for him. You urge him forward, fingers digging into his hips and trying to pull him up your body. He moves easily, coming up so he’s barely resting any weight on your belly, knees on either side of your chest.

You cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and pushing them together below him. He’s looking at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded and lips parted in a silent gasp. It only takes two quick strokes before what’s been building at the base of his spine snaps and he’s cursing above you, ropes of white covering your chest and neck and catching the piercings too.

“Perfect, you’re so perfect—shit.” He works himself through it slowly, his cock twitching and his fingers covered in cum from where it’s dribbled over his fist. He’s staring down at you with an intensity that makes you blush, eyes taking in every inch of you that’s marked with him.

“Look like a fuckin’ dream with these pretty tits covered in my cum. Fuck, doll, I’m gonna think about this for the rest of my life.”

All you can do is smile stupidly below him, your heart bursting and your body thoroughly exhausted. He leans down and presses a quick peck to your cheek before he’s shifting off the bed, running to the bathroom and washing off his hand before he comes back with a warm rag, sitting beside you so he can clean you up. His hand hovers over you and you roll your eyes at the little pout he’s wearing as he looks at your boobs.

“Are you seriously pouting over cleaning off my boobs right now?”

“Who wouldn’t be? They look so pretty like this.”

You reach for the rag with a giggle to do it yourself but he pulls his hand back, shaking his head at you and begrudgingly wiping his cum off your chest with a little sigh that’s a little endearing.

Once you're cleaned up and the condom is in the trash he helps you up so he can pull back the comforter, both of you snuggling in under the covers—naked at his request. His chest is pressed to your back, his heartbeat felt against your skin and it makes you smile into your pillow.

His skin is warm against yours, fingers laced beside your head and you lift your chin to place quick kisses against his knuckles.

“Now that’s the kind of reward I could get used to.”

“Steve!”

————-

It’s the next day and there’s a soreness between your thighs that has you smiling to yourself while you get ready. You remember this morning, how you woke up to the sight of honey brown hair nestled between your thighs, coaxing you out of your sleep with his tongue on your clit.

The best kind of pain, where you’ll feel him for days when you walk or when you sit down. It brings a blush to your skin and memories you’ll think about forever to your mind.

He left shortly after, both of you needing to be away from each other so you could actually get ready for the lunch you had planned with Robin and Eddie this afternoon.

A feeling of nervousness settles within you as you get ready for this lunch. It’s not that you want to keep this from Rob and Eddie, but you’re not what you’d even tell them! These nerves were much more about you and Steve then they were your friends.

Would you tell them you’re dating? That you like each other? That you’re just fucking around? This is what made you anxious, what had your hands twisting in your lap on the train and had you so distracted you stumbled right into Eddie outside of the restaurant.

“Woah! Caught ya.” He steadies you, smiling down into your worried eyes and a little bit of that anxiety seeps out of you. This is your friend, one of your best friends! Who cares what’s going on, maybe he’ll have some insight that you can’t see for yourself.

Eddie leads you into the place, a booth in the back already holding Robin and Steve. They’re both on one side of it and you can see from here that Steve’s unhappy about not getting to sit by you.

You slide in so you’re closest to the wall, legs knocking with Steve’s under the table and the small amount of contact soothes some of the turmoil happening inside of you.

Everything is going good, things feel normal—besides the subtle winks Steve sends your way to get you blushing—and you’re not even worried anymore. The table in front of you is filled with food, everyone reaching over and grabbing whatever sounds good. Arms are crossed over each other and hands get tangled when you reach for fries or mozzarella sticks or an onion ring.

Robin is going on about something, you’re not sure what you’ve kind of zoned out a little if you’re being honest, when you feel Steve staring at you. You look up to his brows furrowed, confusion laced in his features and you quirk your brow at him, wondering what has him looking at you like that.

It’s when Eddie speaks up beside you, cutting Robin off and bringing everyone’s attention to him that it makes sense, “Harrington, I appreciate the love but can you stop trying to play footsies with me under the table?”

Steve’s face flames and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, hands coming up to try and smother how loud it is. But Steve doesn’t recover fast enough, eyes darting to yours sheepishly and that’s when it clicks for Eddie.

“Oh. My. God.”

Three sets of eyes fly to Eddie. Robin is confused. You and Steve are looking at Eddie as he looks between the two of you, mouth dropped open in shock and you curse yourself for the storm that’s coming.

“What?” It’s Robin that speaks first, eyes darting between the three of you quickly. You and Steve keep quiet, trying not to give yourselves away but it’s no use. “Oh my god.” There’s Eddie again, sinister smirk on his lips as he takes his time taking in your pink cheeks and the way Steve won’t make eye contact with him.

“Oh for the love of god! Someone tell me what’s going on. I am not a mind reader.”

“Robin, you won’t believe it. These two finally fucked.” A chorus of noises fill your small corner of the restaurant, booth creaking underneath you from where Eddie is practically bouncing in his seat. Robin squeals, hands going to grip Steve’s arms. Steve sighs, letting Robin tug him around like a rag doll in a fit of her excitement. And you gasp, smacking Eddie in the chest the way you do to Steve all the time.

But neither of you deny it and that alone sends waves of relief through you. Not that you think Steve would, especially with the way he’s gotten over his bit of embarrassment, adorning his signature smirk and a look of pride as the people around him freak out.

You don’t know how bad Steve wants to show you off, tell the world and scream it from the rooftops how lucky he is to even get to be around you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, sweet and kind but not afraid to challenge him and call him out for his bullshit. God, he’s obsessed with you.

Eddie’s rubbing at his chest where you hit him, pouting like a child as if it actually hurt. You hope it did. “Damn, she’s got some force behind those hits,” He looks from you to Steve, eyes lighting up and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “but you love it, don’t ya big boy?”

Your head falls forward to rest in your palm, eyes closed as you try and pretend you're anywhere but here. You think you hear Robin gag from across the table and it forces a laugh out of you. Eyes lifting to meet Steve’s, his teeth are showing and he’s shaking his head like he knows a secret no one else does. His words fill the space around you and make your skin heat under his stare.

“Oh you have no idea.” ————————————————————————

(save me steve harrington in a tank top)

@aheadfullofsteverogers i remembered and hope you enjoy 💌

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #modern!steve harrington #stranger things smut #eddie munson #steve harrington oneshot #fem reader

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 11 months

Note

How do you think the dorm leaders would react to an rsa student leading/kidnapping the prefect to take them away from the 'villains', and when tracked down to a ledge and arguing with saud dorm leaders, the prefect defends them before getting accidentally pushed off? Just the look of horror on their face before they fall, reaching out for them? Ala gwen in spiderman

(I'm not going to do every dorm leader bc I normally have a cap of 5 characters per ask so if the leader you'd like to see isn't here, please feel free to send in another request

these are also all super long so they're under a cut)

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul had been thinking since the moment you’d been taken. He figured it must be someone with a personal grudge against him, rolling his eyes at the platitude that you would be safer with them than him. The twins are even considering less annoying while he’s plotting out what to do, trying to find a way that wouldn’t leave him vulnerable to another strike while also procuring you from your kidnappers. The fact they even agreed to a meeting proved to Azul that they were a devious soul, hidden behind a mist of chivalry when their wants were just as selfish as anyone at NRC. He comes into the conversation thinking he has everything under control, not in the least bit surprised when it turns into a real fight; his magic is at the ready, hand raised and prepared to do what he must to end this when you move outside of his predictions. He would have to viciously scold you for this later but he’s too worried to think about the angry rant he’ll go on for not just trusting in him to be ready no matter what. When you’re tumbling to the ground, he squeezed the handle of the broom he had brought with him, hating the concept of being in the air but feeling even more sick about all his hard work being for nothing (meaning: he would be heartbroken and would not know what to do with himself should you end up perishing on him here). It’s a little washy, but the carefully thought out Plan B ended with you scooped in his arms, his flying wobbly at best but once there’s a safe place to land you feel much safer with him around. When you ask what might happen to the RSA student Azul simply smiled, telling you not to worry about it as Jade and Floyd wouldn’t leave behind a single trace of what occurred that night.

Idia Shroud:

Idia is fighting a storm of emotions, doing his best to not to lose his cool in such a fragile situation. He had to observe the options before him carefully, hoping his perception skill was high enough to afford him a break. It felt like having someone ripped away from him again, the past repeating before his very eyes, and while he knew the stakes were much less serious than the previous situation he’d gone through, it still set his anxiety through the roof. He considered begging you to just stay in your room like he did so he wouldn’t have to worry about you putting yourself in danger (his thoughts darting away from the concept of you just living in a room with him). Idia isn’t used to sticking his neck out for someone else but he knew you, and he knew defending him if the moment called for it would come to you as easy as breathing. He had Ortho prepared for any QTE’s that might be outside of Idia’s control, thankful that the second controller was plugged in before he arrived as you did exactly as he predicted. He can see the fear on your face and while he does want to call out to you to let you know you’ll be safe, it would be better to keep the enemy unaware of the surprise attack awaiting once Ortho got you to safety. With you out of the way Idia felt much more at ease, the sharp grin on his face appearing almost manic to his enemy, who found themselves wondering if they should follow you off the ledge.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona was doing his best to keep a poker face on. When it came to others thinking they were better than him, he was no stranger, but to know they had taken away someone he loved—he was prepared to show them what a real villain looked like. He navigated the situation carefully, this was just a risky game of chess in his eyes but he didn’t realize quite how risky it was until your life was dangling right before his eyes. He’s not unaware of how something can change in the blink of an eye, the scale could tip in either direction but he had to be prepared. He’s always been quick on his feet and there’s nothing in this world that he’d put more effort into than assuring your safety, even pushing himself to the brink of his magical abilities when he cushions the dramatic fall that easily could’ve stolen your life. The person preaching to him from above has only cemented his view that those who soar so high above don’t consider their own actions as evil, always for the ‘greater good’ which meant you were better off dead than with a ‘villain’ like him. He can’t help but scoff, eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them as there’s an unspoken promise hanging in the air: he would kill them without hesitation if they were to ever touch a hair on your head again.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus was shocked at first, secretly hurt, that people on the outside could look in at your relationship with him and consider him a danger to you. He was careful around you, always protective and caring and wanting what’s best for you, so how could that be misconstrued? It made his blood boil to think about your kidnapper trying to turn you against him, and he felt even more powerless when your life was in someone else’s hand so he had to act with caution. He approached with an air of calm that was betrayed by his eyes, the smile not quite reaching them as he greeted your captor politely. He didn’t think he could lead them into a false sense of security because everyone knew to be on guard against him, but he’s surprised the coward even showed their face again. He’s even more surprised to see you attempt to sacrifice yourself for him, reaching out for you and feeling helpless again as you slip right through his fingers; he refused to lose, his hands moving quicker than his brain was as he cast a last ditch effort spell to stop your fragile human body from becoming a stain on the ground. He’s relieved to see that his quick thinking had resulted in saving your life, the vines wrapped around your arms and legs like a comforting hug. He’s thankful he learned how to use the spell without including thorns, but his thoughts are now elsewhere, turning to look at his enemy with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. He tells them they should feel quite lucky that you’re in one piece, as if you had died, Malleus would have tormented their family for generations to come, if he allowed them to exist after this at all.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle is trying to keep his cool, as Trey advised it was best he do so, but it was hard not to feel anger for the complete disrespect that was being shown. How could they think taking you away from your education would be the best route? From a place that you were thriving? If they thought he was doing a poor job as a dorm leader helping you, than they could’ve offered the criticism personally rather than causing you to break a hundred rules within the span of a day. He has to stop himself from raising his voice or going on a rant when he sees how frightened you are, feeling baffled again that this RSA student considered themself some sort of savior when they weren’t taking you into consideration at all. Even he had to learn a lesson or two in regards to it, and he considers it his turn to teach that lesson, challenging them to a duel that would decide where you would end up. Riddle, trusting in his opponents intent to have an honest duel, turned his back to get in place but is shocked to hear the other person winding their spell up already. Your interference is the only reason he’s in one piece but it was at the sacrifice of your own well-being; Riddle cried out your name, nearly panicking as he missed your hand by milliseconds. He can hear the chanting in his head, the word ‘failure’ stamped with bolded red letters, and he nearly lost himself in grief until he sees that Trey and Cater had tailed him. Now that he knew you were safe his face began to grow red, his complete rage turned on the RSA student who would learn the true definition of ‘off with your head’!

#Twisted Wonderland #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Disney TWST #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Leona Kingscholar #Idia Shroud #Azul Ashengrotto #Malleus Draconia #Riddle Rosehearts #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Idia Shroud x Reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

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hidden-poet · 6 months

Text

Commander Snow; 7

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

chapter 8

Coriolanus threw himself back into his work upon returning to the compound. It meant he was gone early before you woke up but he made an effort to return home for dinner. He was adamant that at least one meal had to be eaten together.

You would take walks often together to get some fresh air, leaving the dishes to soak in the sink after dinner.

There was not much to look at in the Compound. Makeshift tents and metal sheds with big locks. Everything was dull, with the colors matching the small gray rocks that formed the roads amongst it.

Only the men running around in their light blue peacekeeper uniforms offered a break from the monotone of it all.

You watched them as Coriolanus led you through the compound by your hand. They would never make eye contact as they went about their work. But it didn't bother you. The isolation imposed by Coriolanus grew on you. You had gotten so used to only ever talking to Coriolanus, that you weren't sure you could hold a conversation with anyone else.

He pulls you gently out of the way of an oncoming truck and takes you down a quitter path.

"You never ask about your mother," he comments as the noise quietens.

You remain quiet as if you didn't hear him.

''She never visits," he continues, "You never ask to visit her."

You feel your heart rate rise. Surely that has not tipped him off that your mother was safe out of his reach.

"Why would she visit? She thinks you want to kill her. And I know she is fine and even if she wasn't, you would lie."

A loud clanging sound turns his attention behind him, to where a large metal sheet had slipped off a pile onto the ground.

"Would you let me visit her if I asked?"

He turns his attention back to you as the embarrassed Peacekeepers scramble to put the metal sheet back on the bed of the truck.

You wondered if this was your chance to escape. A pass for a day trip to see your mother turning into your disappearance.

"We could go tonight if you wanted," he offered, but the choice of “we” made you reconsider your plan. He wouldn't let you go alone, and you couldn't let him see the empty house.

"No," you state, "I’m tired tonight."

He hums in response. "Let's turn back."

You circle back to your starting place. The walk was halved by your comment. The water in the sink would still be warm.

As you walk up the steps to the apartment you turn back to gaze at the far bins. Your freedom was just behind them but despite only being half a yard away, you were stuck in your chains.

With Coriolanus so close and so fast, you enter back into your prison willingly.

You start the dishes, scrubbing the pans free from their grease while making plans for your escape. Edmund would return tomorrow night if you weren't at the house. But the keys seemed impossible to get.

Coriolanus was clingy. He seemed hyper-aware of your movements. He somehow knew when you were faking sleep and when you had actually succumbed to it. The only way he would sleep was when he knew you were.

You would wake too late to an empty bed and a bedside table void of any keys. Even if you got the keys, it would take ages for you to figure out which one it was. They all looked the same.

As if he could sense your thoughts, Coriolanus came up behind you, taking your throat into his large hand, keeping you from moving as he grazed and nipped at your neck.

"I have to do the dishes," you complain.

''So do them." The hand from your hip reaches between your legs and slides up your dress.

You jolt but his firm hold keeps you still.

His hand goes to where you presumed they would, under the elastic band of your underwear.

"Stop," you command, wrapping your wet hands around his assaulting arm.

He bites harshly at your neck from your rejection, causing you to wince at the pain.

"Worry about the dishes."

He only inserts one finger as he tries to elicit a response from you.

"Dishes," he repeats as you don't move.

You obey and pick up the sponge again, attempting to distract yourself with them.

His lips continue to suck and bite as you scrub the cutting board. It's uncomfortable at first as his dry finger intrudes upon your dryness.

He kicks your feet apart to get better access. The feeling intensifies between your legs and you feel yourself unintentionally getting wet.

He inserts two fingers, feeling you pool, twisting and curling his fingers inside you. You throw the chopping board on the drying rack and pick up a plate. When his index finger drags your wetness up, it drops from your hands.

"I think you missed a spot," he taunts. You don't pick it up again, distracted by the tingling sensation, but he reinserts his finger and curls it harshly to tell you to continue.

Once the plate was clean and you were beginning on your second, he rewards you by coming up and massaging your pearl.

You yelp, gripping the counter of the sink as you try and move your hips away.

The hand gripping your throat moved to your wrist forcing them back into the water, before returning to ensure that he still had free access to your throat. The water from his hands dripped down over you.

You washed the dish but your focus wasn't enough to tell if it was clean enough.

He stops his circling and uses the two fingers to rub along your wet lips. The lack of friction was an unwelcome change.

You pick up a kitchen knife, attempting to wash it but it is yanked out of your grip and thrown back onto the counter. His hand returns to your neck with a tightened hold as he focuses on leaving red and sore marks, all while his fingers run up and down.

"Coriolanus. Stop." You choke out.

He inserts the two fingers but refuses to move them.

You cry out as he bites into your flesh, sucking and grazing the spot just where your neck ends and your collarbone begins.

It gave him a sense of satisfaction as you try and wiggle your neck away.

Your wet hands wrap around the wrist that encircles your neck. You could feel him hard against you as he took a step back, taking you with him.

It was a mercy when he moved his fingers once more, pumping in and out. His lips were no longer at your neck but ghosting behind your ear as you stood, locking your own hands around his wrist.

You could feel your stomach form the same knots that you felt the first night he came for dinner. Half of you didn't want him to stop, knowing the release that was about to occur.

His fingers push harshly up and with force, he circles your pearl once more. A strangled moan makes its way from your throat as the knots from your stomach loosen out.

He pushes you back towards the sink and you grip the edges of it as you pulse around his fingers.

The moment passes and you are left breathing heavily, leaning over the sink. You take the sponge back and begin to wash the same dish as if his actions meant nothing. But your head spun, and you felt so spent the sponge was weak in your hand.

His fingers intertwine with yours under the water and he presses them against the side of the sink together as he rests his head against your back.

You were grateful for the moment of silence to collect yourself.

"I am going to take a shower." He states, releasing you.

You retain your composure until you hear the bathroom door shut, immediately slumping over the sink.

--------------------------

Coriolanus wanted to fuck you, that was no secret. But he hadn't earned it yet. A woman such as you deserved to be laid in more than just a Commander's bed. It was old and reused from the last Commander.

He wanted you surrounded by riches, in the comfort of a brand-new Capitol bed. He wanted to be more than a Commander of this scummy district. When he fucked you, he wanted you to have a sense of pride about who was above you. President of Pamen, or just about.

He had not earned the right in any manner. But one day soon, he would.

Coriolanus was a man of restraint and strategy. But as he watched you make beds and iron clothes, he yearned for that intimacy that only sex could offer.

He wanted to lay naked in your arms and be held by you. It felt as if only then would all the thoughts in his head stop.

You were stingy with your love. Coriolanus had not earned it. But when he became

President, how could you deny him his reward then? He would have exceeded everyone's expectations of him: Dr. Gaul, Grandma'am, Tigris, all of his Academy classmates.

The goal was good for him, it motivated him to work harder and longer. It reminds him of his Academy days when the only thing on his mind was the Plinth Prize.

His mind needed a goal to fixate on. The presidency was all well and good but came with its own problems. The reward laid in the long awaited esteem from those who doubted him, or in your case, ran from him.

He would prove to them all that Snow always lands on the very top.

He would prove to you that he is a man worthy of your attention and care.

But he had pressing matters to deal with. He felt as if you teased him all day long. He went to sleep hard as a rock most nights. He offered you release anytime you wanted it, but you never gave him the same courtesy.

It interfered with his work. He thought about visiting the District call girls but the thought made him sick. Why should he do that when he had you? He had you. Tucked away in his apartment. Ready for him. He just needed to take.

He grabbed the letter that came for you days ago from his desk and made his way back to his apartment. He was self-conscious of his hard-on as he walked through the compound and readjusted his pants.

The sight of the apartment felt like water after a long day in the sun. He took the steps two at a time before regaining himself at the doorway. He couldn't look desperate.

You jump up from the couch as he enters, surprised to see him.

"What are you doing home?" you ask.

His heart flutters at the usage of 'home'.

"Delivering mail."

He holds the letter up in the air, tempting you.

“From your brother.”

You hold your hand out for it but he keeps it high.

“I’ll trade you for it.”

You doubted he would want any personal keepsake of yours. You could see the hunger in his eyes.

You turn back away from him to the couch but he grabs your wrist to keep you. It was an act of desperation that he scolded himself for.

“We can trade the letter for dinner.”

He places your caught hand upon his belt. And your hand stills.

You wondered if you really had a choice. He would just keep taking things away until you submitted. But Edmund would be here tonight to release you. Could you get away with resisting?

You wondered what the letter would say. You were sure it was full of written anxieties from your brother. Could you use the Commander's desperation to your advantage? Your fingers curl around the belt buckle as you think.

He leans back against the counter with the letter still in his hand.

He was desperate. You could see it from the way he clenched the countertop.

“I want to write a letter back.” You demand as you undo his belt.

Coriolanus nods hastily. It gave you a thrill of power.

With the belt unbuckled, you weren't sure what to do next.

He helps you by pulling his pants down to his ankles.

"On your knees,” he instructs.

It gives you a direction on what he wants, so you sink down and open your mouth.

You pull back at first but will yourself to give it another go.

His taste was nothing new to you. He lets out a shaky breath as you finally put him in your mouth.

“Go slow,’’ he demands and you try your best to accommodate.

His length hits the back of your throat causing you to pull off. He grunts in dissatisfaction but allows you to come back at your own pace. His face reads of his annoyance. His features turned to stone, and his jaw locked in place.

But he showed mercy by not forcing you back and keeping his hands wound around the counter.

Now knowing your limit, you go as far as you can before coming back again. It was enough for Coriolanus, who threw his head back and allowed you to take charge. His hips bucked slightly the more worked up he got, but with free movement of your head, you could adjust to his movements. Compared to your other experiences, this one was slightly bearable.

Having been pent up for weeks, the feeling of your wet mouth upon him had him coming quickly. He slaps the countertop with his hand as he comes into your mouth, only stopping when you have stopped moving completely, having taken his full load. You spit it out on the ground that you had just washed.

He remains leaning against the counter as he catches his breath. In no rush to give you what was promised.

You yank the letter from his hand, seeing that it was already open. It read angry. The pen was pressed harshly into the paper, the ink spilled all over the page.

The letter was not addressed to you. It opened with “bastard”.

Archie had promised to kill Snow. You had only called him Coriolanus in your correspondence, so you knew it wasn't only your letter that was delivered.

‘Don't take anything from him,’ the letter read to you. ‘I am coming home to you. I am so sorry. I never should have left. I'll be there soon, stay hidden with Mum.’

You turn to Coriolanus with anger, "What did you do?"

He stood in the kitchen, fully dressed again.

"I introduced myself."

"As Commander Snow?" you seethe.

''As your man. Your letter made it seem as if I was a friendly neighbor."

“You son of a bitch. Archie-"

"He'll kill me, yes I know. I read it."

"Archie will kill himself! And it will be your fault!"

"His life or his death, I can't imagine which is worse."

You slapped him for the way he spoke about your brother and instantly regretted it.

Within a second, he had you slammed against the fridge with his hands around your throat. The hold presses against the bites from the previous day.

"Get off of me,” you demand. The bites upon your neck felt like fire as he pressed on them.

He doesn’t move and you bring your hand across his face once more. He remains unmoved by your action and you attempt again. This time he catches it in a painful hold and twists your wrist away from his face.

You shout from the pain but he doesn’t release you.

With a harsh shove against the countertop, the strain on your wrist is gone.

He looks at you as you nurse your wrist and feels a pang of guilt. He thinks of someone saying something about Tigris. He surely would have killed them.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about your brother. I didn’t mean it.”

He did mean it, but he loved your devotion to your family. You both shared the same values, he shouldn’t be training you out of them.

It wasn’t Archie’s fault he was born District, but to die District would be beyond pathetic.

Even the Plinths made it out, and when Coriolanus was stripped of his Capitol-born rights, he too fought to make it out of District 12. Archie had only swapped one district for another. It was pitiful at the very least and embarrassing at the most.

But he was your brother, whom you loved, so Coriolanus will watch his tongue around you.

“Are you alright? Do you need some ice?” He reaches out to inspect your wrist but you yank yourself away from him.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I want to help you.” It was the first time he had hurt you for something that wasn’t your fault. It made him feel terrible. He wasn’t a violent man, only a man capable of violence. He didn’t want you to think he was against you.

“Go away.” You push past him to get to the bedroom, where you slam the door behind you.

He goes back to his office to let you cool down. He apologized, what more did you want?

—------------

You wait by the window for Edmund. You felt foolish that you failed to get the keys. But since the Cabin, Coriolanus has harbored a quiet distrust of you. Every extra precaution was taken. You had learned that a 15-minute window of time opened just before Coriolanus normally finished for the day. Everyone was trying to avoid the path of the Commander as he made his way to his apartment. It was a blessing that he was so avoided, it gave Edmund a chance to appear.

You saw his shadow approaching with something large in his hands.

He calls out to you and you are quick to answer.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'll be better once you open the door," you admit. Your wrist still hurts from the afternoon.

He asks you to stand back away from the door, and you take three steps back.

You hear a loud banging noise, the sound of wood cracking but no spring of the door.

You felt as if you might throw up from the anxiety. He was causing so much noise, surely someone was going to hear it.

He curses but tries again.

You place yourself by the window to see what he was doing. He was trying to pry open the door with a large crowbar. It cracked the wood and left enough damage that the door would jiggle but not open.

A building light flicks on down the road. You can see a shadow of a man as he searches for something before his body appears in front of the doorway.

A flash of light jiggled as it made its way across from the Compound.

"Edmund, someone is coming," you warn.

He ignores you, continuing with the door.

"Edmund, you have to leave!"

"We won't get another chance." With more force, he tries to pry open the door.

You can see the light getting brighter as it approaches.

"He'll move me. So long as I am not trapped here, I can make my way through the fence".

"You were wrong last time."

"Edmund if you die, I'll never get out of here. Wait for me at home. I can make it, I know it".

He grunts as the crowbar slips from the door. Looking over his shoulder, he realizes that he isn't going to get it open in time.

"I won't know where you are!" he cries.

"Don't come back. Just wait for me. There will be an opportunity".

Edmund could hear the footsteps on the gravel. He had to leave now.

"Go," you encourage him.

He climbs down the railing, dropping to his feet and hiding in the darkness before the man reaches the steps.

A Peacekeeper examines the door before speaking into his communicator. A large siren sounded through the compound filling you with dread. They were locking the place down with Edmund inside.

"Miss?" the Peacekeeper knocks on the window, "Are you okay?"

You knew as soon as that man spoke into his communicator, Coriolanus knew of the events.

Could you take cover for Edmund? Tell Coriolanus that it was you who did the damage. No. The damage was on the outside.

Could you start a fire and tell him that it was a peacekeeper trying to break down the door to release you? But why would the peacekeeper run? He would surely press to find out who it was.

You wished that sound would stop so you could think. All you could hear was the siren, ringing through your head.

"Miss?" the Peacekeeper asks again.

“Yes. Fine.” you dismiss. You could feel your heart in your throat.

The Peacekeepers were quick on their feet. In two minutes, swarms of them combed through with their guns raised. Coriolanus was close behind, you could hear him running up the steps past the Peacekeeper.

He unlocks the broken door, leaving the keys in the keyhole as he rushes over to you.

He takes the back of your neck and presses it into his chest, using the other hand to press against your back.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"She's fine, sir. I was ensuring the assailant didn't come back." the Peacekeeper spoke out of turn.

Coriolanus let go of you to take hold of the man's shirt and pushed him against the wall.

"What was he doing here in the first place? Where were you?"

"I don't know, sir. I was in my office. It's really the patrolls fault." The man looked like all the blood had rushed from his face.

Coriolanus throws the man out the door by his shirt. He lands harshly on the ground.

"I want him found," he demands.

The peacekeeper nods his head and rushes to get up and away.

Coriolanus turns back to you and you expect harsh treatment but his hands softly cup your face.

"Did you see what he looked like?"

You knew it wouldn't take much for Coriolanus to figure out it was Edmund, so you lie and pray it doesn't get anyone into trouble.

"He was short. Long dark hair. I don't know, it was dark and I was scared."

He pulls you back to his chest, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

"If you're ever in danger, you hide, okay?"

You had tried that but he found you within days.

"I didn't know if you were okay, " he spoke softly. You almost didn’t hear him.

Peacekeepers shout and you jump thinking that they have caught Edmund. You tear free of Coriolanus and rush out to see that the men are fighting over a flashlight.

Your relief came out in a sob. You silently beg for Edmund to be okay. The anxiety of him being found poured out from your eyes in the form of tears.

It was a good display for Coriolanus, who thought you were crying out of trauma from your supposed break-in.

He takes you by the shoulders and leads you back inside.

"You're safe. We'll find him," he promises.

With his hold, he presses you back against his chest.

He kisses you and you sob against him. Your lips part against his as you croak out a cry.

"Shh, it's okay,", he presses your face back against his shoulder to collect the tears.

You will yourself to stop. Edmund was safe, they hadn't caught him, he must be beyond the fence line by now.

You settle with three big breaths and Coriolanus pulls away to look at you.

"Okay?" he asks softly brushing away your tears.

"Yeah," you sigh, bringing your hands up to rub your eyes.

You pull away from Coriolanus as three Peacekeepers arrive at your door. They carried large cases and were dressed in protective gear.

Coriolanus takes your hand in his and gives a nod to his Peacekeepers, giving them the go-ahead to begin their work.

“Who are they?” You ask, watching one man run a blue light across the surface.

“Forensic crew.”

Panic rushes back up but you shove it down. Edmund hadn’t touched the door. Only the railing as he jumped but many others had covered his prints with their own since then.

You feel his hand take yours in a possessive hold.

He leads you down the steps and through the sea of Peacekeepers.

Officers with sniffer dogs pass you. You reassured yourself, it was nothing Edmund couldn’t handle.

He leads you to his office. It was dark and soulless.

Closing the door behind you, he turns to you once more, trapping your head between his hands, and forces a kiss upon your lips.

The kiss spoke of his anxiety; it was needy and possessive.

You try to pull back but he follows the distance you try to separate.

You try to speak his name to warn him to get off you, he sees it as an opportunity to capture your tongue.

When he does pull off, you turn your head quickly.

“You’re okay,” he comments.

“I am okay.” Wrapping your hands around his wrists you gently pull him off from around your head.

He goes to kiss you again but you are too quick for him.

“Do you have any water?” you direct.

He pauses with his head half-bent to your height.

“Yes. I’ll go get some.”

With a gentle touch to your shoulder, he leaves you in his office alone.

You think about making a run for it while the coast was clear but with the Peacekeepers searching, you wouldn't make it to the fence without detection. Tonight you had little chance of escaping, tomorrow was the better option.

The large office was eerie. The paper he was working on was thrown to the ground in his hurry. You asked yourself why you were picking it up but your nature just called for it. You looked after people. You never thought it would become your downfall.

He returns as you straighten his desk. The sight causes him to smile.

“I thought you might be hungry.” He holds up a military packet of savory biscuits. They were used for long journeys where fresh food was hard to come by.

Unscrewing the lid, he passes you the bottle and places the biscuits on the desk.

“I am not. Thank you.” The anxiety of the night ate away at your stomach. Even if Edmund got beyond the fence you were sure that Peacekeepers had been sent beyond the compound. Still, you had faith. He was smart and knew District 12 well. He would be okay, but only if you could manage not to blow his cover.

Coriolanus unbuttons his Commander's coat with his long fingers.

“Of all the places I thought you would have been safe, the Commander's apartment was my first choice.”

“I was safe,” you contend, “He didn’t get through the door.”

“How did he get in?” Coriolanus sighs, “Another hole in the fence?”

He was talking to himself but you felt the need to interject.

“His clothes looked torn. Maybe he climbed over top.”

He looks at you like you said something incredibly stupid. With the fence being 12 feet tall and wrapped in barbed wire, it properly was.

Coriolanus takes your shoulders into his hands, bending down slightly to your height.

“I don’t want you to worry about this. It won’t happen again.”

You place the water bottle down on the desk too hard, “I am not worried, and I am not hungry. I am fine.”

He takes your hand in his and pulls you along to the couch.

“We’ll sleep here tonight. They won’t be done until late.”

You couldn’t escape anyway. It didn’t matter where you slept.

You sink into the soft material of the couch. Another one sat directly opposite against the wall. Given the small space, it would be logical that you take one and Coriolanus would take the other but you knew he was going to want to share.

He bends down and begins to unlace your boots for you.

“Do you often wear boots in the apartment?” He throws the boot over his shoulder, eyeing you suspiciously. You knew the answer was no, you don’t wear your boots in the apartment. They hurt your feet after long periods of use. Coriolanus also knew this. He would trip on them coming home, or accidentally step on your bare toes with his big boots as you maneuvered away from him.

“I wanted to be ready for our walk,’’ you lie.

He seems to buy it, rising from his spot with no harsh motions.

Instead, he rubs his hand across his face.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you this afternoon, and I didn’t mean for you to be bait for zealous rebels.”

“Coriolanus, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“I want to talk about this. When I got the alert today, all I knew was the door had been broken, I didn’t know if they had gotten in. If you were safe.”

“Well, I am so…”

“And if you weren’t?” He pauses for a second before continuing,

“I’ve lost many things in my life, I won’t lose you.”

The promise sounded like a threat upon your ears.

Edmund had emasculated Coriolanus today. Made him feel as if he looked inadequate in your eyes. He was determined to prove himself to you. That he could and would, protect you better from now on.

“Nothing happened,” you spoke slowly and softly to him.

“I don’t want you to think I can’t protect you.”

“I don’t.”

Coriolanus sits down beside you on the couch.

“There’s paper on my desk you could use if you wanted to write that letter to your brother. Write one to your mother too. I’ll mail them tomorrow with a few panems. Would you like that?”

Protecting you meant protecting your family too.

Nodding your head, you take his invitation and take a blank piece of paper off his desk. He follows you off the couch and offers his office chair to sit in. Several pens were thrown around the desk, you pick up the black pen closest to you and begin to write as Coriolanus puts away files that he was done with.

The paper had the national Panem letterhead, it distracted you while you penned your letters. You wrote the first one to your brother, telling him to keep a cool head. Everything was under control. He must be grateful to be out of the mines. People disappeared all the time up in the mountains. You heard news that two miners went missing and were yet to be found. You were happy he was in District 8. He must stay there. Your family was always worried when he went to work in the morning, now everyone knew where he was: Safe in District 8. There was no need to come back, only to remain where you knew he was safe. All his friends from the mine wish him well and take turns in looking after mother. You finish by telling him to stop being so stubborn and take the money to look after himself.

The second letter to your mother was shorter and superficial. She wasn’t home to collect it. It just needed to appear like she was.

Coriolanus reads over your letters before sealing them with an official seal and a few coins. He leaves them on his desk to mail tomorrow.

You could still hear the Peacekeepers outside the window. Their vans and heavy boots and hard way of talking.

They still hadn’t found Edmund. You could sleep now knowing they weren’t going to.

For a few more hours, you remain up with Coriolanus. He talks of his family back home. How Tigris quit her job and now could focus on her designs. She was going to send you a few new dresses. You learned he called his grandma, ‘Grandma’am’ due to her upper-class upbringing. He talked about how she would dress Coriolanus like a doll, pre-war, and show him off to her friends. She grew roses of all colors. He was surprised to learn that you had never seen a rose.

“I suppose you wouldn’t have.” District 12 was bare and colorless. There was no place for fine roses amongst the suffering. The Snow penthouse is full of them, he says. Replaced daily with fresh ones.

When there was a lapse in his talking, you suggest that perhaps it was a good idea to catch a few hours of sleep before he was woken with news of the capture. In framing the suggestion for his benefit, he was much more agreeable.

He takes off his white t-shirt and pants, leaving him in his underwear before joining you on the couch. He needed to feel your warm skin against his after today. Despite not deserving it.

You are pressed between the back of the couch and Coriolanus. He looked to be sleeping but you could tell from his breathing he wasn’t.

The silence shared between you was interrupted by your gnawing question.

“Did you find what you were looking for out in the woods?”

“No. But the trip did give me closure.”

“Will we have to go again?” you wonder.

“No. It’s in the past now. The future is all that matters.”

The future for him was the Capitol. Where he would prosper and you would wither.

“I can’t go to the Capitol, Coriolanus,” you whisper. You were hoping he would realize it and set you free of his own accord. You could part as estranged friends.

His eyes shoot open to look at you.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispers back, “Everything is going to be okay. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

You could appreciate that his words were supposed to be comforting but what good were his promises? They were nothing you could truly trust.

His lips hit the bottom of your chin in a quick peck.

You wondered if he could feel the wetness of your cheeks from where he lay.

“You’re my girl, I wouldn’t let any harm come to you. You’ll see, you’ll love the Capitol.”

Your answer was given when he wiped away a running tear from your cheek.

“We will turn our back on District 12. The Capitol is our future.”

You nod in the hope of getting him to stop talking. It works, and the silence returns.

He wraps his arms around you as you sleep. You wrap your hand around his dog tags. It felt as if your brother's courage was radiating off it. You would survive Commander Snow.

You wake the next day with Coriolanus’s Commander coat on top of you. Coriolanus sat at his desk writing a letter. His ears pick up on your movement. And he rises himself to see you sit up on the couch.

“Good morning.” he greets, getting up himself.

He flicks the leftover coffee from his cup into his waste bin and refills it from the streaming pot.

You watch him walk over to you with it in his hands.

“Here,” he says, carefully passing you the cup.

“Did they find him?” You take the cup but not a sip.

“No. But they are still searching.”

Your heart bounced up from its anxiety.

“Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. It was probably a young boy searching for food. I had dinner ready, he could properly smell it.”

Coriolanus begins to pace in front of you.

“I am going to make an example out of him. Make sure everyone in the Districts thinks about starving to death before entering the Compound.”

“A hungry child is no need for alarm.”

“What if he had gotten through the door? These Districts are animals. He would have hurt you.”

Coriolanus cringes at his words, “I didn’t mean you. You are not an animal.”

“Yes, you did.” You rise from the mattress.

“No. I didn’t.” he grits.

“You treat me like an animal. Sit, eat, stay.”

“I don’t want to fight with you.” he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

You had no interest in arguing with him either. Time was of the essence. You had to get back before the door was fixed and you were locked back up.

He returns to sit at his desk. He had work to do.

“I’ll go home and make breakfast. Bring something back for you.”

Goodbye Coriolanus, you thought.

“No.” he looked at you like you were crazy and you stared back similarly.

“No. You’ll stay here with me until he is caught.” He sits back down at his desk but you remain frozen in the middle of the room, “Or maybe you’ll just stay here forever, seeing as no one in this District seems to have a clue where he is.”

You had thought that the broken door would offer you freedom but it seems to have just caused Coriolanus to tighten his grip.

“I can’t, I have to, I have to-” your panic interrupted your sentence.

“You have to do, what? The dishes?” he mocks, “They can wait until we go home.”

He returned to his work, the conversation was over for him.

“I want to go back and take a shower and-”

He pushes his heavy folder over the edge of his desk.

“I’ve had a District break into the compound, new of which will makes its way back to the Capitol, I’ve got recruits coming and nowhere to put them, and lieutenants who can’t read. I just need you to be perfect today.”

He shuts his eyes and sighs, pausing for a moment. “Please, I just need to know where you are today. That you're safe. If you’re here, you’re not another thing on my mind.”

You wanted to kick and scream but it would only end with a bruised cheek. He wasn’t asking you to stay, he was telling you. District scum were only animals for him to herd. You just so happen to be his favorite sheep.

So you sit back on the couch and he reaches for his work and not your throat. Maybe he would send you to get something. A cup of tea for him, deliver a message, you would take any opportunity.

You lay down on the couch, back under his coat to keep warm, and he goes back to his work.

An hour later, his receptionist appears holding two metal trays of food. He greets her as she enters, and she offers the same back. You don’t exist. She doesn’t look at you once while she is in the room. You pass her as you make your way to the desk. She deliberately checks her red nails.

A gray-looking porridge, a slice of jam toast cut in half, and a cup of broth sat on the tray.

“I can see why you glorify my cooking.”

“I used to eat boiled cabbage and potato peels every day back home. When I came to District 12, I thought these meals were just great. Now I have you, and these meals make my stomach turn.” He pokes at the porridge with his spoon, “You’ve spoiled me.”

“I can still go and make you something.” you offer. The second you were out of view you were going to bolt to the fence.

He shakes his head ‘no’ and you sink into your chair. He felt clingy today, almost as if he could sense your plan to leave him.

“I need a reminder of the dangers of complacency.” He shovels a spoonful into his mouth. You choose half of the jam toast.

“How are you feeling after last night?” he takes the toast from your hand despite having his own in front of him.

“Fine.” You wished he would stop bringing it up.

“I am sorry he got so close.”

“These animals are my people. He wouldn’t have hurt me even if he got in.”

“I told you I wasn’t calling you an animal, and yes, he would have hurt you if he got a chance. You don’t know what people are capable of.”

The whole world is an arena and you are prey, he wanted to say.

“People are good.” you refute, although you are unsure if you believe that anymore.

Coriolanus definitely didn’t believe it. People were animals that needed the threat of violence to keep order. He thought back to a day during the war when he had collapsed in the street with swine flu. No one stopped to help a young child. Only Tigris, sick with the chills herself, picked Coriolanus up and nursed him back to health. He was sure you would too. You had picked up the child with the scraped knee while others walked around him.

“You are good. You are kind. The people around you were using you for their own benefit.”

“And you’re not?” you bite.

“What benefit would that be? A bruised eye? A fight every time I try to connect with you?”

You groan, rubbing your face aggressively with your palms. At this rate, he was likely to throw you in the compound jail. A fight with him would only derail your plans. He said it himself, complacency blinded him.

“I am sorry,” you sigh, “I didn’t sleep well on that couch. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

He reaches across the table to intertwine with your hand.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you finish your breakfast and go lie down again.”

You do finish your breakfast in a comfortable silence. Coriolanus was happy to be apologized to, and you were happy not to further the conversation that would surely turn into a fight.

You lay looking at the roof while Coriolanus tries to be as quiet as he can.

You barely hear him as he works. A stroke of a pen here, a shuffle of a paper there.

You think of Edmund and your mother. They would both be worried sick. But how could you get to them with Coriolanus breathing down your neck? By the time you broke free, would the Peacekeepers have found the hole in the fence?

The phone rang once before he could get to it. He speaks in a low, hush, tone. Seemingly calm he hangs up.

You hear his footsteps as he walks over to you causing you to sit up to see him come into view.

When Coriolanus raises his hand and brings it down upon your cheek with enough force to knock you to the ground, it surprises you.

“Edmund’s hair was found between the hinges of the door.”

He stood above you tall and angry.

“He and his family are nowhere to be found, along with your mother. But I suspect you already knew that.”

He crouches down and takes a harsh hold of your chin, “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Your answer earns you another smack to the face.

“I don’t know,” you cry, “I honestly don’t know.”

“Short with long dark hair, you said,” he laughs humorlessly, “I should have known it was him.”

“He came to say goodbye. I wasn’t going to leave, I swear.”

“Why should I believe you? Every chance you get you betray me.” He shoves your head out of his hold.

You shake your head ‘no’, and cautiously test how far he was willing to allow you to get up. You managed to a sitting position on the floor before you saw his body flex. You were level with his face. The proximity puts you on edge.

“He broke the door to say goodbye. You honestly expect me to believe that?”

“I meant what I said in the cabin about one more chance. I wasn’t going to leave. I told him I wasn’t going.”

“Why not tell me that? Why lie?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. Coriolanus, I didn’t betray you.”

“You’re a filthy liar.”

You shake your head ‘no’ frantically.

“Where has he gone to?” he asks again.

“Coriolanus, I wasn't going to betray you. I was going to stay!”

“Where is he!” he shouts in your face.

“I don’t know. Please-”

Your shaky hands take his face between them.

“I wasn't leaving you. I swear.”

He looks at you with soft, unsure eyes. You could tell he wanted to believe you. You just had to push him a bit further.

You bring his head towards your collarbone and he willingly follows, bringing the whole force of his body against you. The weight knocks you down on the floor, where he rests on top. You leave a hand on the back of his neck and the other pressed down on his shoulder blade to keep him there. In this position, you had the power. He positions his body on top of you, his leg over your hip and left arm over your shoulders.

He felt like a little boy pressed against your side. Nevertheless, it was the Commander.

Your face pounds from earlier assaults as a reminder.

You eye the door from where you lay on the floor.

“You were going to leave,” he sounded almost to be crying.

“I wasn’t. I was going to stay.”

“It was a mistake. I am going to find him and hang him up.”

He goes to get up in his anger but you clamp down on your hold.

“I didn’t leave you. Don’t leave me. Stay.”

He breaks free enough to raise his head over you.

“You would have if he got the door open.”

“No.”

“The doors open now. You could leave. I wouldn’t stop you.” He rolls his body off yours and onto the floor beside you.

He seemed earnest. You would at least get a head start. But you couldn’t be fooled by your eagerness.

“Go.” he offers.

You sit up beside him and look at the door. His violent temper made him poor company, but you could control it. Manipulate it until the opportunity arises, where you could get more than a 30-second head start.

“I heard there was a drink in the Capitol that tastes like apple pie.”

“There is,” he replies indifferently.

“Do you think I could try it when we get there?”

He turns his head towards you with a curious gaze.

“It can be the first thing you have.”

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keerysfreckles · 6 months

Note

hii babes congrats on 1k!!! prompt 3, 5, 17 & 12 with max?

how you love me — MV1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: one sexual innuendo if you squint

prompts: the others notice chemistry and point it out at any time they can, always turning their head if your name is mentioned, the causal flirting turning into something else because you start to have feelings for them running into their arms after being away for too long, kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

a/n: on my period rn FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE

masterlist ! | 1k celebration prompts !

. . .♡ the others notice chemistry and point it out at any time they can.

ever since max started bringing you to the paddock, rumors started spreading quickly through the grid. they all noticed the longing glances you two shared. daniel's pointed it out ot you multiple times in the past week. same thing with alex and lando towards max.

"max, you realize you haven't stopped looking at y/n since you guys got here?" lando stated to the dutchman, in which he only grumbled and walked away.

whenever you all were out during the weekends, they still noticed.

alex and logan were deep in a conversation about which soda was the best, when logan turned his head at the sight of max and y/n. max had his arm wrapped around the girl, while they were talking in a small group. of course the williams drivers were quick to tell the other drivers.

at the paddock the following week, charles and carlos may or may not have been spying on y/n and max from outside the redbull garage. the ferrari drivers watch how close max and y/n stand, with max's fingertips tracing lightly over her arm. from a bystander's point of view, anyone would say the duo has heart eyes. "and they still say they're just friends." carlos mumbles under his breath.

. . .♡ always turning their head if your name is mentioned.

lando and oscar were sitting side by side against the wall of the mclaren garage. all of the drivers were waiting for free practice to start, and were wasting time in different ways.

"so who's coming to the team party this weekend?" lando can't keep track of his emails, so he can't help but ask oscar.

"obviously all of the drivers, and i'd think whatever girlfriends are able to come," oscar replies.

lando starts listing off the girlfriends, ending on y/n. oscar continues with the conversation, until max comes up towards the mclaren drivers.

"what were you saying about y/n?" max asked, his tone laced with nothing but curiosity.

lando and oscar just laughed, this wasn't the first time max got distracted by y/n's name alone.

sometime last week lewis, max, carlos and george were talking while walking into the paddock together. george was on a tangent about why wet wheels were the best invention on the planet, but max's head turned as soon as someone walking by mentioned y/n. he felt his cheeks flush slightly, and he couldn't help but feel saddened when his girlfriend wasn't around.

. . .♡ the causal flirting turning into something else because you start to have feelings for them running into their arms after being away for too long.

you knew max was the type of friend to use physical affection. it was his go-to when he was congratulating someone, or giving someone a quick side hug when he thought they were upset.

it wasn't out of the ordinary for max to be hugging you right now. well– hugging might not be the right word. he was crushing your ribs while spinning you around after getting told he was world champion yet again.

once he took his helmet and balaclava iff he couldn't help but kiss your cheek, which caused a pink shade to adorn your face.

moments like this only occured more. max was most likely by your side whenever you were around, and vice versa with you. max constantly kissed your cheek, but you thought nothing of it besides an add to your friendship. the constant flirting didn't go unnoticed by the other drivers and even some team managers. christian couldn't help but notice how close you and max have gotten in the past weeks, physically and emotionally.

once you had to leave max and the other drivers because your job required you back home in england, you felt like you lost your other half. it's been weeks since you last saw max. you missed him. you missed his smile, and his laugh, and the way his hand ran through your hair perfectly. you were quick to realize what these sudden feelings meant.

when you got off the plane in bahrain, for the final grand prix of the season, your anxiousness skyrocketed. you were planning on kissing max. for real this time. and you needed to tell him how you felt. you haven't told anyone, not even your own mother.

minutes felt like hours, as you watched max pull into the first place spot, securing yet another world chamption title under his belt. your smile grew as he got out of the car. his eyes only bulged once he realized you were at the front of the red bull crew. he ran to you, muttering dutch under his breath in astonishment and in unbelief. your arms wrapped around him, as his did to you, and you never wanted to let him go. "i love you," you whisper, not thinking he hears your words. less than two seconds later, he whispers the same three words in his native language.

. . .♡ kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

max couldn't stop kissing the tip of your nose. you don't even remember how the tradition came about. maybe once after a race? or it could've started during one of your many mornings in a hotel room. however it may have started, you definitely didn't want it to stop.

you thought it was the sweetest thing. it showed he still cared and adored you, but yet was still miniscule. you've returned the favor a few times, all of them catching him by surprise. once after he cooked you breakfast, again before he had to get ready for a race, and lastly just as you two woke up after a night you'd never dare to forget.

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #shelbi's 1k celebration #max verstappen #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x fem reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fanfic

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xxspringmelodyxx · 3 months

Text

That Girls A Liar~

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Here is part IV my lovelies! I hope you enjoy! Also, if you have any requests for me, or just wanna talk, please feel free to do so! I love hearing from you all! Part I Part II Part III

Word count: 4.5k Warnings: none

"Y/n..." Toru muttered under his breath, barely audible to anyone around him. The sound of your name was like a bitter pill, stuck in his throat. His eyes followed your every move as you exited the cafeteria, a mixture of confusion and sadness clouding his mind. Determined to understand what was happening, Toru decided to follow you, keeping a safe distance so as not to be noticed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was going on, something he wasn’t seeing. The thought of you slipping away from him filled him with a gnawing sense of dread.

You made your way down the hallway, each step echoing in Toru’s ears like a countdown to something he feared. As you pushed open the door to the school courtyard, he saw Kai waiting there, a sight that made his heart sink further. It felt like a betrayal, seeing you spend so much time with Kai, often more than with him. It was like you and Kai were best friends instead of you and him. In fact, seeing how close you two were, it seemed like Kai was becoming more than just a friend to you. The thought made Toru’s chest tighten with jealousy, a sharp pang that left him breathless.

You approached Kai with a smile, one that seemed more genuine than the one you had shown in the cafeteria. This smile reached your eyes, making them sparkle in a way that Toru hadn’t seen in a while. “Hey, Kai. You ready?” you asked, your voice light and encouraging. Kai nodded, fidgeting nervously with his hands, his anxiety palpable even from a distance.

“Yeah…I’m just…nervous. I mean, what if she says no?” he asked, his worry evident in every word. His body was tense, and his eyes darted around as if searching for reassurance.

You smiled softly at him and took his hands in yours, your touch meant to reassure him. You leaned in closer, speaking softly so only he could hear. “Trust me, Kai. After all this time of trying to get you and her alone, it’s obvious she has feelings towards you as well. Plus, you two have so much in common. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone talk about K-dramas as much as you two. It’s honestly so adorable,” you said, chuckling a bit to lighten the mood.

Toru watched from afar, his heart breaking at the sight of you being so touchy with Kai. His fists clenched involuntarily at the scene before him. It was supposed to be Y/n and Satoru, not Y/n and Kai! The thought of losing you to someone else felt like a knife twisting in his heart. It doesn’t even sound as good, he thought bitterly.

“Okay, now start. We’ll do some patching up if we need to,” you encouraged Kai, your eyes shining with determination and hope.

Toru edged closer, staying hidden behind a tree as he strained to hear your conversation. He couldn’t stand the thought of missing a single word.

“Okay…well. I’ve been thinking about this…about you. A lot. You make me feel so warm and calm whenever I am with you. When you come up to me, I feel my heart race. It beats so fast I feel like I could actually die,” Kai started, his voice trembling with nerves.

You snorted, trying to stifle your laughter. “Too much?” Kai asked, looking concerned, his eyes searching yours for validation.

“No, no. Keep going. I like it,” you spoke, making Toru frown even more. Your words were like daggers to his already wounded heart.

“Well…I really like you. And…I’m just gonna skip to the main part…will you allow me to take you to the dance…and allow me the pleasure of being your boyfriend?” Kai finally asked, his voice filled with hope and desperation.

Toru felt like everything around him paused. His breath was held in his throat, begging to be released from the tension. The thoughts of you and Kai being together was something he never wanted to imagine. Thoughts of you two laughing with one another, hugging one another, kissing one another…it was all too much for him.

Toru shook his head, trying to dispel the growing fear. There was no way you’d accept Kai's proposal. After all, Kai was nothing compared to the one and only Satoru Go-

“Of course I’ll go out with you!” you spoke, your voice filled with genuine excitement. Toru deflated within seconds. He felt his heart shatter at your words, the pieces scattering like broken glass. This was a dream, right? Any minute he would wake up, go back to school, and be with you. Right? RIGHT?!?!

But it wasn’t. No matter how much he wished for it to be a dream, he knew it was real life. The reality of your words hit him harder than any physical blow ever could.

Not wanting to hear anything else, he quickly teleported out of the school, desperate to distract himself from the pain he was feeling. The world around him blurred as he sought solace in the only way he knew how, trying to outrun the ache in his heart.

As Toru reappeared in a secluded spot far from the school, he tried to steady his breathing. The pain in his chest was unbearable, a gnawing emptiness that refused to go away. He slumped against a tree, the bark rough against his back, and let out a frustrated scream, hoping the sound would somehow alleviate the hurt. But it didn’t. The image of you accepting Kai’s confession replayed in his mind like a cruel loop.

Meanwhile, back at the school, you and Kai continued your conversation, oblivious to Toru’s turmoil.

“Thank you so much, Y/n. I don’t think I could have done it without you,” Kai said, relief washing over him. He looked at you with gratitude, his eyes softening as the tension left his body.

“Don’t mention it, Kai. I’m really happy for you. Amai is going to be thrilled,” you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Just be yourself, and everything will be perfect.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch break. You and Kai exchanged a few more words before heading to your respective classes. Toru, meanwhile, spent the rest of the day in a daze, barely able to concentrate on his classes. The hours dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. He avoided you and Kai, not trusting himself to keep his emotions in check if he saw you together. Thankfully for him, Sensei Yaga decided to postpone the practice exam until tomorrow…so at least he would get some time to himself. To try and recollect his emotions.

He loved you… but he hated you at the same time. The conflicting emotions tore at his heart every time he thought about you. He wanted to be the one to take you to the dance, to feel the warmth of your hand in his under the twinkling lights of the gymnasium. He imagined holding you close during the slow songs, feeling your heartbeat against his chest. He longed to be the one who dipped you down, held the back of your head in his hand, and then leaned down to finally, finally kiss you. At that moment, he would finally confess his love for you. This vision played out in his mind countless times, each scenario ending in a perfect, romantic moment that made his heart ache with longing.

But now… all of that was tossed down the drain after you said yes to Kai. The dream shattered, replaced by a painful reality that gnawed at him with every passing second. He felt a sharp sting of betrayal, mixed with the bitterness of unfulfilled desires. The thought of you in Kai’s arms was unbearable, yet he couldn’t escape it.

——

The next day had arrived and you and the class were out training as usual, preparing for the training exam. The field was filled with the sounds of exertion, the clashing of weapons, and the shouts of encouragement from your peers. You went with Kai to finalize the plan, the one you both had worked on so meticulously. Kai was going to ask Amai right now. His nerves were palpable, but you were there to support him, as always, your presence a calming influence.

“Go get her, Kai!” you said, giving him a playful push towards Amai. Kai stumbled a bit, turning back to give you a grateful smile before steeling himself and walking over to Amai. He straightened his posture, took a deep breath, and began to approach her with determination. Your encouragement was the last boost of confidence he needed.

As they began talking, you decided now would finally be a good time to go and talk with Toru. This whole thing that was going on between you two had gone on long enough. The distance, the misunderstandings, the unspoken words—it was all too much. You didn’t care about the fear of rejection anymore; you just needed to finally let him know how you felt. The thought of not telling him was more unbearable than the risk of losing your friendship. It was time to face your feelings head-on.

You scanned the training field, looking for Toru. He was by the edge of the field, with Aksana. They were taking a bit of a break, just talking with each other. The sight of them together made your heart clench, but you pushed the feeling aside. You needed to talk to Toru, no matter how difficult it might be.

As you approached them, you paused as you heard Toru speak.

“So there’s this dance coming up in a few days…” he started, his voice tinged with uncertainty but also a hint of something else—perhaps resignation.

Aksana nodded, her expression attentive. “Yeah, I’ve heard about it. Are you planning to go?”

Toru sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I was thinking about asking someone, but… well, things have changed,” he said, his voice sounding more defeated than excited. The heaviness in his tone made it clear he was struggling with something deep inside.

She gave Toru a mischievous smile, eyes glinting with hidden motives. “You know, sometimes things work out in unexpected ways. Who were you thinking of asking?”

Toru hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world was on them. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Aksana, I was thinking… would you go to the dance with me?”

Aksana’s eyes widened in surprise. Her eyes shifted to see you, frozen like a deer in headlights. She smirked as she knew she had won, relishing in the pain she knew this would cause you.

“Aksana?” Toru asked again, making her put on her fake smile.

“Really? I mean, I’d love to, Toru. I just didn’t think you’d ask me.”

You felt a sharp pang of hurt and confusion as you overheard their conversation. H-He asked her after all? The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the breath out of you. The air around you seemed to grow heavier, harder to breathe.

Suddenly, the bright blue skies began to turn a dark and gloomy gray. The clouds began to spiral around one another, signaling a huge storm was about to hit at any moment. This sudden change grabbed everyone's attention, and chatter began to spew around. The storm mirrored the turmoil within your heart, reflecting the intensity of your emotions.

“Y/n! Y/n! Amai said yes! She is going to the dance with me…but also she said yes to being my girlfriend as well!” Kai came running towards you, only to stop mid-run as he saw your terrifying presence. The aura around you was dark… perhaps even sad. The shift in the weather only amplified the darkness emanating from you.

“Y/n?” he asked, trying to figure out what had changed your mood so terribly. He saw your eyes and how they slowly became glassy looking, tears threatening to spill at any moment. The sight of your pain struck him deeply, making his heart ache for you.

Shoko and Suguru noticed as well when they turned towards you. They exchanged worried glances, understanding that something significant had just happened. The atmosphere was tense, charged with the weight of your unspoken sorrow.

Before any of your friends could come up to help you, they looked ahead and saw Satoru and Aksana talking. They all heard them talking about the dance and figured out what was going on. The realization hit them like a wave, and they felt the sharp sting of your heartbreak as if it were their own.

“Y/n…” Shoko whispered, trying to come to your aid, Suguru quickly following suit. After finishing his talk with Aksana, Satoru noticed water droplets falling to the ground. He knew today was supposed to be sunny, so he turned around to find you. He knew this was your doing and knew that you were crying. But, when he turned, he saw you staring up at him with tears in your eyes. The look you gave him made his heart shatter once more, hating the way you stared at him. It was a look of betrayal, hurt, and unspoken love, all mixed into one.

He saw his other friends making their way towards you, and so he instinctively began to go towards you as well. But before any of them could make it, you quickly ran away, running as far away from all of them as you could. The storm intensified as your emotions overwhelmed you, the skies reflecting the turmoil in your heart. Each step you took felt like a desperate attempt to escape the unbearable pain.

“Y/n, wait!” Satoru called out, his voice desperate, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t face him, not now. The ache in your chest was too much, suffocating you with its intensity. Each step you took felt like you were trying to outrun the pain that was consuming you, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you fought to hold back the sobs threatening to break free.

Kai and Shoko shared a glance before running after you, determined to catch up and offer comfort. They could see the anguish on your face and knew they needed to be there for you. The urgency in their steps matched the worry in their eyes. Suguru, on the other hand, stayed behind, his eyes narrowing in anger as he watched Toru. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white with tension, knowing this confrontation was inevitable and bound to be explosive.

Satoru watched you run, feeling helpless and torn. He had wanted to make you feel the pain he felt, but seeing you like this was unbearable. His heart ached with regret as he realized the extent of his actions. The satisfaction he thought he would feel was replaced by a deep, gnawing sorrow that gnawed at him. The sight of your tears was like a dagger to his heart, twisting deeper with every drop that fell.

Aksana, standing off to the side, smirked to herself, satisfied with the chaos she had sown. She had gotten what she wanted, but even she could sense the depth of the rift that had just opened between you and Toru.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Suguru yelled, pulling Satoru off to the side with a rough yank. His voice was filled with fury, his eyes blazing with anger. He couldn’t believe what his best friend had done. The intensity of his anger made Satoru flinch, the harsh reality of his actions crashing down on him.

Satoru’s eyes widened in surprise, his own anger flaring for a moment before it was extinguished by guilt. “Suguru, I—”

“You what?” Suguru interrupted, his voice shaking with rage. “You wanted to hurt Y/n? Is that it? Because if it is, congratu-fucking-lations, you succeeded. But at what cost, Satoru? At what cost?” His words were like a slap to the face, each one hitting harder than the last.

Satoru looked away, unable to meet Suguru’s accusing gaze. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I just… I was hurting. I wanted her to feel what I felt.”

Suguru’s eyes narrowed, his anger not subsiding. “And now?” he snapped. “Now you see the pain you’ve caused? How could you do this, Toru? To Y/n? To yourself? You love her, and this is how you show it?” His voice was filled with disbelief and disappointment, cutting through the air like a knife.

“But she doesn’t love me!” He yelled back, his eyes glowing a bright blue hue. The rains were pouring down by this point, and everyone else went back inside to avoid getting drenched. With those words, Toru began to break. Never in his life did he think someone could have such an effect on him. Never did he think that his love for you would grow so big to the point where he could barely function. Never did he think that he would feel so broken by the thought of you not loving him back. He loved you, that was an understatement. But you didn’t love him back.

Suguru furrowed his brows, wondering where the hell Satoru got that conclusion from.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, making Satoru look down at his feet. Tears began to fall from his eyes as he told Suguru what happened.

“She is in love with that stupid boy, Kai.” He started, making Suguru scoff

“You’re joking right? Satoru, they-”

“I heard it all! I heard him ask her out…and she said yes! To him! HIM!!” He yelled, his anger and heartbreak mixing together. The moment replayed in his head like a broken record.

“You must have misheard them. Why would she be running out like that? There is no way Y/n likes-”

“I heard what I heard…I was too late.” Satoru said, his eyes slowly going dull.

—

Meanwhile, you ran through the campus, your vision blurred by tears. The storm overhead mirrored the tempest inside you, each raindrop a testament to the pain you were feeling. The sky darkened, the wind picking up, whipping your hair around your face as you pushed forward. Kai and Shoko were close behind, calling out your name, their voices filled with concern and urgency.

“Y/n, please stop!” Shoko called, her voice breaking through the noise of the storm. “We’re here for you. Just talk to us.” Her tone was gentle, yet firm, desperate to reach you. The urgency in her voice was a lifeline through the torrent of emotions you were drowning in.

Kai reached out, gently grabbing your arm to stop you. “Y/n, it’s okay. We’re here. Let’s just talk.” His grip was firm but comforting, grounding you in the moment. The warmth of his touch contrasted with the cold rain, offering a semblance of stability in your chaotic world.

You turned towards them both, your tears falling nonstop, mingling with the raindrops on your cheeks. Your breath hitched, and the sobs that you had been holding back finally broke free. “He asked her… he asked her instead of me!” you sobbed, the words coming out in a choked whisper. The reality of Toru's betrayal hits you anew with each word, cutting deeper into your heart.

Shoko pulled you close, wrapping her arms around you and rubbing your back like how a mother would with her child. Her touch was soothing, her presence a beacon of comfort in your stormy sea of emotions. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” she whispered, her voice steady despite the chaos around you.

Kai stood close, his own expression filled with concern and anger. “He’s an idiot, Y/n. He doesn’t see what he’s losing,” he said, his voice firm. “You deserve so much better than this.”

The rain continued to pour, the storm overhead a reflection of the turmoil inside you. You let go of their embrace, taking a step back.

“I think…I think I need to be alone for a while.” You spoke, making the both of them worry.

“A-Are you sure-”

“I'm sure. Just please leave me be for now.” I said, turning around to go back to my place.

The two watched you leave, seeing how deflated you were. It broke them seeing you like that. But they wanted to give you some time to yourself just as you asked. Even though they didn’t want to, they did to respect your wishes.

However, that didn’t mean they were done with Satoru. They turned back around and went to go find the tall white-haired boy.

–

After a few minutes, they saw him standing in the same area with Suguru. Now it was their time to unleash their wrath on him.

“Who do you think you are?” Kai asked, walking right up to him. Toru stood above him, but Kai didn’t care. He hurt you, and that’s all that mattered. The rain continued to pour, drenching them all, but the intensity of Kai's anger made it feel like a storm within a storm.

Satoru’s eyes blazed with a mix of anger and frustration. “Step away, now,” he threatened, his voice low and dangerous, each word a challenge. Kai is the last person he wanted to see right now. He was the whole reason for this chaos.

“Or what? I don’t care that you’re the strongest in this school. The strongest in this city. Shit, maybe even the whole world. What I do care about is the fact that you hurt Y/n!” Kai yelled back, not backing down one bit. His defiance was fueled by righteous anger, every word laced with indignation. He took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides.

Shoko stepped in, her own anger simmering just beneath the surface. “What were you thinking, Satoru? How could you do this to Y/n? You should know by now that she loves you—”

“Don’t say that! Because obviously I was wrong about how she felt about me,” Satoru interrupted Shoko, his voice rising with a mix of anger and hurt. His eyes darted between all three of them, filled with confusion and pain.

“What are you talking about?” Shoko asked, her voice filled with concern and confusion. She stepped closer, trying to understand the depth of the misunderstanding.

Satoru looked down at Kai, glaring daggers at him. “Why don’t you tell them, Kai?”

“What?” Kai asked, genuinely confused as to what Satoru was talking about.

“Why don’t you tell them how you confessed to her yesterday! And then tell them about how she accepted! How you stole her from me! How you took her heart from me! You took my everything from me!” Satoru yelled, his emotions getting the better of him. His voice cracked with the weight of his despair, each word a release of the pent-up agony he had been holding inside. His hands trembled, his eyes wild with a mix of anger and sadness.

Kai took a step back, trying to process Satoru’s words. “What are you talking about, Satoru? I didn’t confess to Y/n. We were just practicing.”

“Practicing?” Satoru scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Practicing what? How to break my heart?”

“No!” Kai shouted, exasperation clear in his voice. “I was practicing how to ask Amai out. Y/n was helping me because I was nervous. That’s all it was.”

Satoru’s expression faltered, confusion replacing some of his anger. “No, you’re lying! Stop lying!” He yelled, his eyes glowing brighter and brighter as if he were about to explode.

Kai sighed deeply, trying to keep his own temper in check. “You misunderstood, Satoru. When you heard me talking to Y/n, I was rehearsing what I was going to say to Amai. Y/n was just helping me. That’s all it ever was.”

Suddenly, there was a long silence. He tried to look for any sign of deception in Kai’s eyes…but all he could see was the truth. Satoru’s eyes widened, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. “What... what are you saying?”

Suguru sighed, jumping in while shaking his head. “You jumped to conclusions without knowing the full story. Y/n has been helping Kai because he was nervous about asking Amai out. She’s been doing everything she can to help him, not because she’s in love with him, but because she’s a good friend.”

“But I saw you two together, so many times. The way you both looked…you were so close…” Satoru’s voice trailed off, his anger subsiding into regret and sorrow.

“Yeah, because they’re friends, Satoru. Just like you and Y/n are—or were,” Suguru said, his tone softening slightly. “You let your jealousy get the best of you, and now you’ve hurt her deeply. I told you this whole ‘plan’ of yours was going to come and hit you in the back…”

Satoru’s shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions crashing down on him. Tears mingled with the rain on his face as he whispered, “I didn’t know... I thought...”

Kai took a step closer, his voice low and filled with frustration. “You thought wrong. And now, as Suguru has already stated, you’ve broken her heart. You better make this right, Satoru, or you’ll have more than just us to deal with.”

Shoko nodded, her expression unwavering. “You need to find Y/n, and you need to tell her the truth. Apologize, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll forgive you.”

Satoru looked down, his hands trembling with the realization of what he had done. “I need to find her,” he said, his voice filled with determination. “I need to fix this.”

Suguru nodded, placing a reassuring hand on Satoru’s shoulder.

“She’s headed back to her place. If I were you, I’d get there as soon as possible.” Shoko said, still filled with disappointment. Satoru nodded. With newfound resolve, Satoru turned and ran into the storm, his heart pounding with fear and hope. He knew he had to find you, to make things right, to tell you how much he truly loved you. The path ahead was uncertain, but he was ready to face it, no matter what.

_________________________

Taglist: @aria143 , @goreedo11

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vinvantae · 1 year

Text

Unmasked

9/16

<<< previous part

Word count - 3.5k

Both Bahrain and Saudi Arabia were what felt like near perfect starts for the team - only Max outscoring you both in the second race of the season, so going into Australia you felt confident. You were hoping that continuing to perform like this, the team would finally break and talk to you about Thirty, and whilst that conversation was currently benched, you’d managed to get a 2-on-1 meeting with Mattia about you and Charles.

Sure the relationship was still fresh but you wanted to let him know sooner rather than later that their media co-ordinated relationship had turned into something more, that you had very real feelings for your teammate. The Monaco native kissed the back of your hand softly as you waited for the team principal to join you. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“I’m not sure, but they were the ones who put us together… so…” you giggled, leaning over to kiss him.

You heard the door open and close behind you. “Hmm, I had a feeling that was what this is about, your little show had become a bit too convincing.”

Your boss circled the desk and sat in his chair, clasping his hands in front of him as he studied you both - the way Charles’ thumb brushed over the back of your hand, the way you look more relaxed than you had in years.

“Well yeah, it’s kind of not fake anymore.” You chuckled softly. “And well, we’re not planning on breaking up any time soon so we wanted to know how you wanted to proceed.”

He pressed his lips into a line as he thought, eyes flickering between you both. “This is a conversation I’d already planned to have, as I said - your acting was getting too good. For now, we’ve decided to continue to use your relationship as a distraction from you being Thirty until we think of something else. While we know the media has zeroed in on you being a woman, the laundry list of potential candidates is still long and we’d like to keep you as close to the bottom as possible.”

“Speaking of Thirty, I-”

“We’re not having that conversation. Not now. Keep performing and we’ll have that meeting.”

Charles watched as your jaw clenched and you slumped back into your chair - he hated the way they were using your reveal as a carrot on a stick, encouraging you to keep racing. You were a talent without the blackmail, and it was frustrating to both of you; Charles knew he could try and step in and argue your case but Mattia wouldn’t hear a word of it without the rest of Team Thirty to back him up. He simply stood up and placed his hand on the small of your back as you both exited the room. “I’m sorry, mon amour.”

“I know, I know…” You sighed, looking up to face him. “Hey, at least they’re chill about us, right?”

Your teammate smiled softly as you lifted your hand to cup the back of his neck, gently brushing your thumb across his skin. His eyes flickered across your face before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “We best get going, free practice starts soon.”

Once you stepped into the paddock again, you were fully clad in your racewear - bouncing a little on your feet as you tried to warm yourself up ready for the weekend to begin. As much as you didn’t want to let Mattia and the rest of the team hold your reveal over your head depending on your results, getting the job done was still important. You had a championship to win and with Charles currently ahead of you, everything was to play for.

*****

******

To say you were fuming was an understatement. After a piss poor qualifying and car issues putting you in 9th and hard tires relegating you to 14th at the start, you didn’t think it could get any worse. But with only the first lap of the race complete, you fucked it completely and slid across the track, off into the travel at the exit of turn 10.

You didn’t stay for a second longer in the garage than you had to, slamming the door of your driver’s room and screaming into a pillow. It was a stupid mistake, you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself for it - you’d gone too hot into the chicane and ruined your own race. You turned on the TV to catch the rest of the race, too nosey to not know how everyone else was getting on but it only frustrates you further.

The gap between you and Charles in championship only grew with your teammate getting his second win of the season, Max also not finishing the race. The Monegasque had 71 points to your measly 33 and you wanted to be happy for him, you did, but it was bittersweet watching him lift the trophy above his head and you hadn’t even finished the race, let alone got on the podium.

You watched with a straight face as he sprayed Carlos and George down with the champagne, his face a contrast to yours - a smile that would usually brighten your day but it didn’t help at all. Instead you opted to flick off the TV and flop back on your sofa - just letting your eyes closed shut.

However, getting a moment of peace was not to be when your handler and PR manager practically ripped the door off of the seams to come into your room, their faces paled.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” You frowned, sitting up.

“…we’ve got a problem.”

******

*****

This time in Mattia’s office, you were outnumbered. Charles was still down in the garage, celebrating with the team but you were being stared down by the team principal and the two members of Team Thirty who had burst into your room not even moments ago. The public reaction to you not being at the barricade to congratulate Charles was… negative, to say the least. It was the third time you’d not been there for his podium and despite someone posting a photo from your behalf on your instagram story showing you were watching from hospitality, it wasn’t enough.

His die-hard fans were starting to hate you. You weren’t good enough for Charles.

It wasn’t the effect on your mental health that this character assassination that Team Thirty was concerned about, it was the public reaction to you being revealed. All this was doing was making them question everything you’d been working towards.

“I’m not sure how you expect me to be in two places at once.” You grumbled. “Sure, today I could’ve been there but the first two races I was with him on the podium.”

“We know.” Your handler sighed, the last few months had aged him - the once jet black hair he sported now featured more than a few greys and his frown lines had deepened. “So, we’ve always tried to avoid this but, if you both finish on the podium in the next race, we’ll have to bring in a body double.”

You frowned. “…how’s… in what world would that work?”

“At Imola, the cars will be parking on the track at the end of the race - and whilst Charles is talking to the press, we will get you inside, changed and out the front while your double goes on the podium.”

A groan left your lips and you ran a hand over your face. “Why don’t you just let me-“

Your handler agent slammed his hand down on the desk, making you cower back in your chair and the two other men in the room’s eyes widened. “Everything is on the line, y/n, don’t you understand?”

He didn’t give you even a second to protest before he seemingly magicked your contract out of thin air and placed it on the desk in front of you. “We have done nothing but try to protect you, why can’t you see that? This contract was put in place to make sure you had a racing experience without the stigma of being a woman… revealing you now? After all this negativity about you being Charles’ girlfriend?”

The man tutted and leant in closer, and you swallowed heavily - your breath caught in your throat as his dark eyes flickered across your face. “You have no right to fight for a reveal after your piss-poor performance today. Charles is a race winner, you haven’t won us a championship in years… you’re lucky to even have a seat.”

Mattia and your PR manager stayed silent, letting the words hang heavy in the air - you wanted to fight back, give them a piece of your mind but you couldn’t help but think he was right. Instead, you simply excused yourself from the room and went to the last possible place they would think to look for you and thankfully, the person you were hoping to see was standing right outside.

“What do you mean you lost her?” Charles frowned, stood in your driver’s room with your handler who was pacing nervously. He’d come up to check on you after your DNF to make sure you weren’t blaming yourself too hard but instead he was met with a very stressed looking staffer.

“We had a bit of a disagreement and I haven’t seen her since.” The man admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And it would be too suspicious if I put out a MIA memo for some random staffer so we’ve just had people keeping an eye out.”

Your teammate shook his head. “You are unbelievable, mate.”

Before the staffer could get another word out, Charles left the room - he couldn’t even call you, your phone was currently stuffed in his pocket after he saw it left on the side table in your room. He could feel the panic bubbling in his chest as he walked through the paddock, every flash of red catching his eye. Clearly, he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his stress because more than one person tried to stop and ask him if he was okay and as much as he was grateful people seemed to care, you were still at the forefront of his mind. Where the hell were you?

He was moments away from shouting out your name when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder - Charles turned to say he was fine but when he was met with the dark eyes of Carlos he simply frowned. He felt himself deflate, his eyes desperate as he looked at his rival.

“She’s with Max.” He said quietly, and almost immediately Charles could feel his heartbeat ease. “Because the last place people would think to look is with Redbull, no?”

“Did you see her? Is she okay?” His volume matched the Spaniard’s as they walked in the direction of the Redbull Motorhome, noone batting an eye at the two drivers chatting away - nothing out of the ordinary. “How did she even get in wearing her kit?”

Carlos shook his head. “I didn’t see her, Max texted me that they were together so I don’t really know how or why she’s in there but I saw the panicked look on your face and guessed you didn’t know either… definitely won’t be able to sneak you in.”

The Monegasque nodded. “Can you tell her I’m out here… please?”

The Redbull driver gave him a gentle smile and another friendly pat on the shoulder before disappearing inside the navy blue motorhome - leaving Charles feeling very out of place standing outside of somewhere he definitely shouldn’t be. Thankfully, he didn’t have too much time to overthink before you stepped out of the motorhome, still clad in your Ferrari polo. He took your biceps in his hands and studied your features, eyes puffy and nose as red as your team wear- those bastards.

The driver pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, shielding you from prying eyes. Max wasn’t too far behind you, a sorry smile on his face. “Thanks for looking out for her.”

“Wouldn’t hesitate.” The Dutchman said. “But, you might want to get her out of her before too many people notice.”

Charles’ nodded and guided you out of the paddock, doing his best to keep you tucked into his side as to avoid too many prying eyes. Unlike other races, he simply waved at fans - allowing you to keep your head ducked down beneath your Ferrari cap as you head to the carpark, still not speaking a word. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, Charles could feel the weight of it dragging you both down. He locked eyes with Sebastian across the parking lot and the older driver gave him a concerned frown as he watched the young Monegasque help you into the car.

He waved his phone a little at Charles and the Ferrari driver nodded before slipping into the driver’s seat. Charles would be sure to ring Sebastian later but right now you were his priority - you sat slumped in the passenger seat, playing with the skin around your fingers. He’d seen you defeated before but there was something else going on here, he could just feel it.

“Y/n…”

“Can we just get out of here?” You finally met his eyes as a single tear rolled down your cheek. “Please.”

He didn’t even hesitate, driving as quickly but as safely as he could back to the hotel - ushering you into your shared room where you didn’t even hesitate to yank your polo over your head and throw it across the room before dropping to your knees and sobbing into your hands. You felt an intense guilt about breaking down like this in front of Charles when he’d such an amazing weekend - you felt like you were taking away from his accomplishments.

But when you felt his knees brush yours and his strong arms wrap around you, you simply melted into his chest - gripping onto him for dear life as you cried. You felt so betrayed by your team, you’d given them years of your life and your handler had just thrown it back in your face like it was nothing.

“Cherie… talk to me.” He whispered, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

You grumbled into his chest. “I-I… your fans hate me. So if… If we get on the podium in the next race they’re swapping me with a body double so I can meet you at the barricade. Like a good girlfriend”

Charles scoffed, pulling back to take your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs across your cheeks to wipe away some of the tears. “That is a whole new level of stupid… why can’t they just bite the bullet and-”

“Because they’re trying to protect me.” Your tone was mocking. “Because I’m not fucking good enough anymore, Charles.”

He went to speak but you shook your head and stood up, grabbing a T-shirt from your suitcase to change. You let out a pained laugh, running your hands over your face before putting the shirt on - hands shaky as you worked on the button of your trousers. “I should be grateful I even have a seat, they said… so, maybe there’s no point revealing me because by the end of the year I’m not going to be here anymore anyway.”

“Hey.” Charles grabbed at your wrist a little - you didn’t look up at him. “Don’t let them get in your head, y/n. You’re a champion… they’d be absolute fools to even think of letting you slip through their fingers.”

Your teammate could tell their words had really impacted you, your quiet thank you wasn’t convincing as you gently pulled your wrist away from his grasp. “You should call Sebastian, he’s worried about you…”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’m here for you, okay? Don’t shut me out.”

“I know, I know… I… this just hurts. I at least thought they had my best interests at heart but…”

You sighed and Charles simply nodded. “I know, Cherie. They’re idiots. We’ll get you out of this soon, I promise.”

This time your thank you seemed genuine as you kissed him, a gentle smile on your face - you were eager to believe him but remained cautious. Simply getting out of the rest of your uniform and slipping into bed, the other driver not far behind. “How did you get into Redbull anyway?”

“Max just took me in, no questions asked… I honestly think he could get away with anything.” You chuckled softly, propping yourself on your elbow to look down at your boyfriend. “He didn’t even hesitate to help me, I almost feel bad we’re going to absolutely destroy him in the championship.

Charles laughed, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “There’s my girl. You do still need to call Sebastian though before he hunts us down.”

“I know, I know. I just have to be careful about what I say to him or else he’ll fly out to Italy early to burn down the headquarters.” Your cheeks flushed a little, reaching over to your nightstand to grab your phone; dialling the German’s number. “Hey Seb.”

“Hey kid, how are you doing?” His voice was gentle, you could almost picture the softening of his eyes. “You looked pretty down.”

“That’s a nice way to put it.” You laughed weakly, eyes flickering across Charles’ face. “I don’t think my reveal is going to happen any time soon…”

There was a shift in his tone of voice. “What? Why? Do you need me to go down there myself and talk to them because I will-”

“I’m not performing well enough, and the public opinion of me is apparently bad because I’m not greeting Charles at the barrier…” You explained, letting the fingers of your free hand trace across the skin of Charles’ jaw. “I’m actually worried that I won’t have a seat at all at the end of this year if I don’t start winning races.”

“Y/n, if Ferrari let you go then other teams would fight to the death for a chance to have you… they’re not idiots. They’re just threatening you so you keep feeling loyalty to them and honestly? I’m starting to doubt they deserve it.” The soft tone of his voice had returned, you could hear him chopping up something in the background. “If you’d let me, I’d like to sit down with you and go through your contract. See if we can find anything, not only as a GPDA rep but as your friend.”

You took a deep breath, your mentor always knew exactly what to say. “Thank you, Seb. I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay, well, I’ll let you get some rest. Say hi to Charles for me… he’s a good kid, I’m glad you found each other.”

Charles watched the corner of your mouth tug up into a fond smile - your eyes sparkled at the German’s words but he couldn’t hear them. “Me too. I’ll see you in Imola. Bye Seb.”

“What did he say that got you smiling like the… what's the expression… the cat that got the milk?” He hummed, making you giggle softly.

“Close, it’s cream not milk.” You said, voice fond. “He’s gonna go through my contract with me, see if there’s anything in there we could use to help me… there… there has to be something, right?”

“I really hope so… We’re gonna figure this out, okay?” His hand came up its home on your jaw, the warmth of his touch soothed you - you pressed a gentle kiss to his palm. “Me, you, Seb… Max and Lewis if it comes to it. You deserve to be celebrated.”

Charles simply let you draw shapes on his face, his chest, his neck as you studied him intently - the sunset slipped through the gap in the curtains illuminating the greens and blues of his eyes like the swirls of a watercolour painting. A beautiful ocean brimming with life and warmth, inviting you to dive in. You weren’t afraid of drowning in them, you felt safe as he looked right back at you, the gentlest smile on his face.

He observed you for a moment longer before leaning in and pressing a meaningful kiss to your lips, one you hoped would cement his words and it did. You felt more in that one kiss than any other you’d shared, any doubts you had about his feelings for you seemingly melted away in that moment. You were falling for this boy, hard.

If there was one good thing to come out of the mess that Ferrari was orchestrating; it was him.

And you were starting to think, maybe, just maybe, he was worth every second of it.

***

*****

Next part >>>

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Hope you guys enjoyed!!

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 #formula one #x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #unmasked fic #leclerc x reader #Charles leclerc x you

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wintfleur · 10 months

Note

what are some pictures you resonate with Rut and Stella or Nico and Stella?

ꔫ pictures that remind me of stella and rut

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( thank you for requesting! I decided to do rut for this, let me know if anyone else would like to see a Stella and Nico version. I had so much fun looking for some pictures, I wish I could put more pictures in a post on mobile, everyone please don’t be a silent reader! )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list!)

au masterlist - you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ stella and rutger’s photo gallery ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

.❀。Stella hates swimming, but she’s always willing to snuggle in Rutgers lap on a floatie. There is a lot of whispered conversations, kisses and soft touches as they get lost in there own world as there friends and her brothers swim and have fun around them. 📸 taken by Luke Hughes!

.❀。stella is a very supportive girlfriend, going to as many games of his she can. Rutger calls Stella his good luck charm, always having to have a kiss from her before and after a game. Stella loves watching Rutger play, she’s so proud of him and she can really see how passionate and happy he is when he’s on the ice 📸 taken by Luca fantilli

.❀。Stella loves the library, she just finds it so peaceful. Rutger loves joining her at the library, sitting at one of the back tables, hushed whisperers and giggles, and soft jaw kisses are shared as they study and read. 📸 taken by Stella!

.❀。they can never keep there hands to themselves, they have had there share of elevator makeouts. I can see them in this picture. Rip to the innocent bystanders that has caught them a few times

.❀。Stella just has a habit of randomly biting rut, in the beginning of there relationship it would shock rut and make him laugh but now he’s used to it, sometimes he would randomly bite her back. He thinks anything she does is adorable. She mostly bites him on his arms/ biceps (I mean can you blame her???) sometimes softly bitting under his jaw to tease him.

.❀。they are always getting lost in there own world whenever they are together, they can only focus on each other as they stare into each others eyes. Anyone could see that they are in love. There eyes are always going to each other in crowds. There so in love I can’t. 📸 taken by Adam fantilli

.❀。they are always holding hands, they like feeling each others touch. Rutger holds tightly onto Stella’s hand when they are in crowds, always feeling better knowing that she’s close. When they are sitting next to each other, there holding hands. When they nap/sleep there holding hands. There just obsessed with each others hands, it’s so cute. 📸 taken by Rutger

.❀。Rutger loves Stella’s chest, he’s definitely a boobs guy. Whenever they are alone his hand is almost always resting on her boobs, he’s always caressing or leaving kisses on her chest, smirking at how sensitive she is. He also loves laying on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she softly plays with his hair, it’s his favorite place to be 📸 taken by Stella

.❀。Stella loves holding Rutgers face in her hands, she thinks Rutger is the most beautiful person in the world. She could just stare at his face all day. She loves his smile so much, his smile is what made her fall in love with him. It makes her happy, softly caressing his cheeks as they stare into each other eyes, not having to say anything aloud;there eyes saying everything for them. Stella loves holding his face In her hands as she places a ton of kisses all over his face, smiling at the sound of his laughter. And Rutger feels the same! 📸 taken by Ethan Edwards

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I just cant explain how much I love there relationship, I really want to get some blurbs and fics out for them, but I’m having trouble writing rn, but soon I’ll get something out! PLEASE DON’T BE A SILENT READER 🫶🏻)

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @bradenschneider )

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨👩🏻‍🎨୧˚ stella hughes au!#💌stellahughes!#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!#rutger mcgroarty x reader #rutger mcgroarty imagine #rutger mcgroarty #umich x reader #umich hockey #umich imagine #nhl imagine #umich fic #hughes sister #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes

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dearestmui · 11 months

Note

Hi! It's anon, so uh this is my first time making a request so I'm sorry if it doesnt make any sense

Anyways it's gonna be muichiro x gn!reader or fem!reader(whatever you prefer) so it can be a short fic or long fic it's your choice, I haven't seen anybody request this but can you do one where muichiro and reader are in a secret relationship? But muichiro forgets no matter how many attempts reader says that the relationship should be kept a secret and at a celebration or birthday muichiro accidentally blurts out that the reader and him are dating? How would everyone react would they be shocked? Neutral? Anyways my request isn't really that interesting so I'm not expecting you to pick this! But if you do thanks<3

SECRET RELATIONSHIP

summary: how would everyone react to muichiro outing your secret relationship? cw: none just fluff and very slight angst pairing: Muichiro x reader adittional tags: manga spoiler free, muichiro before ssv. word count: 1407

When you and Muichiro started dating, you asked to keep the relationship secret. He didn't go against the idea, it's not like he was planning to tell anyone anyway. You were someone who Muichiro could never forget, however what he did forget is that your relationship was supposed to be a secret. It's not like he did care about who knew or not, it was nobody's business. But what he did care about was you, so he wanted to respect your wishes.

There were times where other people would hit on you, and in that moment Muichiro felt compelled to step in. How can people come up to you and flirt shamelessly like that? Don't they know that you're taken? Oh right.

When it was a demon slayer, he'd glare at them until they took the hint, not saying anything.

If it was a local from a village when you two are on a mission, then he'd tell them bluntly. You don't know them, so who cares. When you think he'd go too far, or risk your relationship being revealed, you'd nudge him with your elbow and glare at him. To that he replies with the softening of his features followed by a sigh.

At some point, when he was alone he started to wonder why the relationship had to be kept a secret. Should he not be able to express his love for you despite the public's opinion? He wanted demon slayers to stay away from you, and most importantly he wanted to be able to show simple gestures such as kissing your cheek. The most he could do was hold your hand in public, since you two were young no one thought much of it. For the first time(or so he thinks), he felt pure love and adoration for someone else. Is it wrong for him to want to express his innocent teenage love?

Of course, he forgot all those thoughts the next day.

There was a small celebration held by Mitsuri for her birthday, everyone she knew was invited. And god, she knew a lot of people. Muichiro would've forgot to come if it wasn't for you dragging him.

At the celebration, you wore such a cute outfit, maybe a little too cute. Muichiro felt an unknown flutter in his stomach, though he struggles to identify what he's feeling, he knows that his stomach feels tingly when he sees you. But this time it was more intense than ever. So, he subconsciously got a little too close to you — reaching to rest his hand around your waist. Which, unfortunately for him, you responded by moving away. He frowned at this.

"Muichiro, you shouldn't get too close, remember? People will find out we're dating." You whispered to him.

"....Sorry. You look pretty." He whispered back, making you blush.

Later, you and Muichiro were sitting at table with the hashira and the kamaboko squad. Everyone was having fun talking to eachother. You'd think that Muichiro would feel overwhelmed by the amount of people and loud noise, but he didn't mind it — considering the fact he finds Rengoku's loudness comforting. He wasn't really paying attention to the conversation, until Mitsuri, the Love Hashira, started to ask questions about you and Muichiro.

Of course, being the Lova pillar, Mitsuri has noticed how close you two were. She was a little dense though, not realizing you two were actually in love, she was just curious about it. The conversation snapped Muichiro back to reality.

"Say, you two are really close!! Are you dating?" Mitsuri asked excitedly. The thought of you and Muichiro dating made her heart burst! Young love, so cute!!

However, you who wanted to keep your relationship a secret, was about to decline that claim until-

"Yes, we are." Muichiro muttered on instinct.

Your eyes widened and a blush crept onto your face. While Mitsuri's smile widened.

"Muichiro!" You scream whispered at him, panicking and looking around not knowing what to do.

The others looked at you in shock, well instead of Inosuke who continued eating despite being confused on why everyone went silent.

"What? Oh, right." Muichiro looked at you confused, until he remembered the he just outed your relationship to everyone.

Needless to say, everyone was shocked that Muichiro, the Hashira who basically fuctioned like an emotionless puppet was dating someone. But his colleagues were happy for him, except for Giyuu and Obanai who didn't seem to have a reaction.

Rengoku was beyond happy, he's always been concerned about the younger pillar and took it upon himself to take care of him. He loudly congratulated you both on your relationship, which of course just outed your whole relationship to everyone at the party. Shinobu kept her soft smile and clapped, thinking it was adorable and also happy for you and the young pillar. Tengen was beyond shocked, and offered to give relationship advice to his colleague. Sanemi, also barely showed a reaction. A little shocked, sure. But he also felt a little concerned. Dating as demon slayers could be really hurtful. If one of you died during a mission, then what? He knew this from experience. He didn't say anything. He tried convincing himself he didn't care, but of course, he was too kind so subconsciously he'd start looking out for the both of you more. Someone who already knew about the relationship was Gyomei, who simply let out a smile and congratulated the two of you then let out a prayer for the safety and happiness to the future of your relationship. Mitsuri, who was showing the most reaction, was squirming and jumping the whole time, as if she had been proposed to.

Someone who didn't react so positively though was Zenitsu, his eyes were filled with scorn, almost shedding tears of jealousy towards the newly outted couple. How can someone like Muichiro score before him??? He let his jealousy be known; Tanjiro who was sitting next to him had to knock him out to not make the two of you uncomfortable. Speaking of Tanjiro, he felt relieved about Muichiro finding someone he loved. Yes, he'd definitely buy you and Muichiro a congratulation gift.

If you were to be overwhelmed by everyone's reaction, Muichiro would've taken notice of this and gladly take your hand then take you away to a quieter place. Though the people at the table would be confused seeing Muichiro drag you away.

As for the aftermath, Muichiro was so used to not showing any affection in public that he forgot that your relationship is NOT secret anymore... But, he definitely felt more comfortable to be able to be affectionate towards you.

Do not repost

#muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu muichiro #demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x y/n #muichiro x you #fluff #muichiro fluff #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x gender neutral reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x you

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perpetualexistence · 6 months

Text

Slumbering Pride

Alenoah Week Day 7: Free Day! (Demon AU)

Alejandro is finally, finally close to beating José at something. He's in his junior year, and universities are already scouting him out thanks to his name, his academic prowess, and his athletic prowess.

They did the same for José when he was about to graduate. The difference is he had five schools attempt to recruit him.

Alejandro has six.

José can't let this stand. If Alejandro officially gets six offers, then he'll know José isn't perfect. He'll start trying harder to beat José in things. And worse, he might actually win if he's proven himself capable of it.

José needs to do something about it, so he comes to the most obvious solution.

He summons a demon.

(Rest under read more because it's long)

Demons are an open secret. They were confirmed to be real a while back, though are mostly bound by the deals they must make in order to maintain a foothold on the human realm. An unbound demon is a dangerous thing, and often happens if the person making the deal is tricked into breaking their side of it.

Demons are known to do everything possible to do this, or at least cause havoc in whatever capacity their bounds enable them to. It's forbidden and illegal for anyone to summon one without proper qualifications. (There's still some summonings that do happen after all, demons are quite useful so long as you're careful).

Still, humans are naturally curious creatures, and have found multiple ways of spreading this knowledge as best as they can. Demon summoning is uncommon, but it still happens. So much that children are taught what to do if they believe they're encountering a demon.

Most sane people know better than to risk entering any contract with a demon. But there are always those desperate enough, or stupid enough, to try.

Getting his hands on a book on demon summoning is child's play for someone with José's family connections. He doesn't care what kind of demon he summons, so long as he summons one that will do the job he wants. He can sweet talk them into giving him the best deal possible just as he sweet talks anyone else.

As he finishes the summoning, his limbs grow heavier. It is constant agony to keep himself standing. His thoughts grow fuzzy as he struggles to remember what he was so focused on. He isn't quite sure why he bothers.

It would be much easier to sit down and rest. What was he so worried about, again? It couldn't have been so important if he's forgotten. His eyes droop to a close as he lets out a sigh of relief he had been holding back for so, so long.

"Wow, you're seriously pathetic if you're this affected by my summoning."

José snapped out of his stupor to see a teenager staring back at him. He was a couple of inches shorter than José and could only be described as a breathing fashion disaster.

José could have stopped there, but he couldn't ignore the horns atop the demon's head, the wings pressed against his back, the tail lightly tapping the ground. His arms were folded as he tapped his clawed foot impatiently.

José was expecting something much more imposing than...this. He'd laugh if had less control of himself.

"I would like to make a deal with you-"

"Could have fooled me with your craiglist ad." Noah said, glancing at the circle underneath him. "It's so generic it screams 'I'm not going to put you in a van and drive you to an undisclosed location, I promise.'"

José could feel a headache coming on. "I am going to make a deal with you, demonio." He needed to regain control of this conversation, fast.

"Never said I wouldn't make one. What do you want?"

"I would like for you to stop my brother from getting too far ahead in life. At the very least, I want to make sure that he can never surpass me. In any way. Can you do that?"

"Depends on what I get in return."

The two end up negotiating until they settle on a deal: Noah makes sure that Alejandro can never surpass José, and in return Noah gets to take his ability to dream. José can do without a few dreamless nights.

That's how Alejandro finds himself waking up in the morning with a demon that was only as tall as halfway up his knee staring at him from the foot of his bed.

Alejandro instinctively kicks the smaller boy out of panic, sending a very unhappy demon crashing into a wall. When they've both recovered, Noah explains exactly what's going on.

He's here to pretty much haunt and sabotage Alejandro, José's the one who sent him because he's a dick, and this is just going to be their life now.

After Alejandro processes the fact that his brother truly hates him this much as to risk both of their lives to a demon, he asks why Noah would bother to tell him all of this. He doesn't say it out loud, but he knows that a demon could absolutely make his life a living hell. He's expecting insidious manipulations and life threatening accidents.

And this demon is making any sabotage more difficult by confessing that he's going to sabotage Alejandro? Something isn't adding up.

That's when Noah points out the big flaw in Jose's brilliant plan.

Because he hadn't been concerned about what kind of demon he summoned, he pretty much set up a job posting for a demon from any of the seven sins to snatch. Noah just happened to get there first.

So what does José get for not being specific?

A sloth demon.

Noah plans to do the bare minimum of what's required for his job. He doesn't care to bother with the effort of lying to Alejandro about his purpose here. The only reason he bothered to take this job in the first place is because the human realm has two things that the demon realm doesn't: Decent places to nap, and good books.

The only thing he hadn't counted on is how small he'd end up being once bonded with Alejandro. His size is dependent on the amount of sloth Alejandro has. The teen who gives it his all in every activity he does.

Noah's got his work cut out for him.

Alejandro tries seeing if he can use his own silver tongue to have Noah quit the job before he gets started, but with no luck. Noah doesn't feel like leaving. And he's not about to break the deal on his side because then he be forced back into the demon realm and unable to return unless directly summoned.

Alejandro would very much like to try just trapping the demon somewhere, then go to his brother to confront him about doing this. But he knows better than to act before fully knowing what Noah is capable of. And he wouldn't be surprised if his brother tried to gaslight him into thinking Noah wasn't real. He still doesn't quite believe it himself.

He does start to believe that having Noah around will be a continuous little nightmare. He's constantly offering snide remarks. He keeps trying to convince Alejandro to stop trying so hard and just be lazy.

Alejandro's not as aggravated as the attempt than he is at the fact that there's zero tact to it. Noah isn't even TRYING to be subtle. He could think of a thousand ways to do Noah's job better, except telling him that would then make Alejandro's life worse.

It gets to the point where he's so upset he just throws a pillow at Noah. The demon squawks as he gets hit, and Alejandro gets immense satisfaction from this. Alejandro knows this is a terrible idea, but he's angry at this whole situation and needs to take it out on somebody. Might as well do it on the one successfully set him off.

Alejandro gets his karma for snapping at Noah when he goes to sleep.

His dream starts off as he would expect it to. Until suddenly he finds something knocked against his back. He finds himself pinned to his stomach, and when he struggles to get out from under it, he finds the tip of a very familiar tail at a much larger scale pressing down on him.

"I thought 'Burromuertos conquer whatever they set their minds to'. We're in your mind. So get up."

Alejandro can feel Noah's smirk though he can't see it. He refuses to give Noah the satisfaction of admitting defeat and continues to fight against the tail.

Tears are not pricking his eyes as he's made to feel insignificant in the last safe place that was truly his.

As he can't feel tired in his dream, he continues to struggle. Noah admits that Alejandro's probably the most stubborn human he's ever met.

Alejandro snaps that he's a Burromuerto, and he does not quit. He cannot, and will not quit. Ever. No matter the competition, no matter the cost. Noah's just another obstacle in his way. But he will beat his brother in something for once in his life.

He does his best to hide the desperation in his need to believe that this is true. He's hidden it well in the past, but Noah is a perceptive sort and hears it anyways.

Noah asks what could type of win could possibly be so important that it was worth the risk of his brother summoning a demon on him.

"I'm about to beat him in the amount of colleges offering me admissions by one." Alejandro gloated, pride swelling in his chest.

The tail pressing down on him suddenly reached underneath him, and flipped him over like he was a roach. He looked up to see Noah's face free of apathy for the first time. Instead, it was replaced with one of...pity.

"You can't seriously be proud of that."

Alejandro grit his teeth. "I am."

"You have to know how that sounds, right?"

"Please do enlighten me about what you think that sounds like."

"It sounds pathetic! You're going above and beyond and you're seriously caught up in something as stupid as one-upping your brother?"

"Don't you dare try to act as if you know any better tú hijo de su puta madre," Alejandro snarled, the tears returning to his eyes. "I don't care what you are. You know nothing about me and my family. You can say and do whatever you like but I will not cow to any of your attempts to degrade me." His snarl turned into something of a deranged chuckle. "Do your worst. This is nothing new. I will still come out on top and grind you into dust."

Noah was silent for a long time. As he started to move his mouth to speak, Alejandro found himself snapping awake. He looked around to see Noah still in his room. He's looking at him with incredibly impassive indifference. Alejandro won't see anything else in his gaze. At least the demon was smart enough not to try running his mouth again.

Alejandro stormed off so he could grab a book to study while he ate breakfast.

Noah mostly stays out of Alejandro's way, but Alejandro can feel him watching. He doesn't care where Noah scampers off to during the day. He refuses to acknowledge the little monster.

He throws himself deep into studying. He's spending more time awake so he can study and avoid having to fall asleep. Beauty sleep be damned, he does not want to deal with Noah again.

When he does sleep, he dreams. He can always feel a looming presence behind him, and he says nothing of it.

He does his best to hide his exhaustion from the rest of his family. José notices and pounces on it. Alejandro continues to deny it, because he will not give his brother the satisfaction of having won yet another battle.

All the stress and exhaustion comes to a head after a few nights. Alejandro hopes for a dreamless night, and is instead greeted by a nightmare.

He's attending one of his parent's many galas, and his outfit is atrocious. He's sweating profusely. His hair is plastered to his face. Try as he might, it refuses to go back into place. He's a truly unforgiveable sight. He tries to sneak off so he can find something else to change into. Despite his appearance, no one is paying any attention to him. He finds out why as he goes through a guest.

He's running as fast as he can now. He's going through so many people, everything is blurring together. It all comes to a halt as he crashes into a wall he can't see. As he falls backwards, he sees that he's now in a terrarium.

Outside, his much larger brother and parents are talking to each other. Alejandro can't make out what they're saying, but he can see them laughing. He gets up and bangs on one of the walls. His brother flicks his gaze towards his little brother.

Finally, a break. He know Jose hates him, but he'd never truly hurt Alejandro. Alejandro knows this. He has to believe this. Jose could hurt him physically, mentally, and emotionally, but even he wouldn't leave Alejandro to die.

He'd just deliver a potential vehicle of death to Alejandro's doorstep, is all.

Their parents are gone, and it's just him and Jose now.

"Relájate, hermanito," Jose cooes as if he's talking to an infant, "Nadie espera que seas más de lo que eres. ¡Deberías estar agradecido de haber estado cerca de una fracción de mis logros! Sabes exactamente lo que te mereces por eso, ¿no?"

Jose lifts the lid of the terrarium up. He reaches a massive hand down towards Alejandro. Alejandro wants to climb up and away, but the walls are too smooth. They're closing in. All that there is is the hand, ready to grab him, crush him, throttle him, any variety of things.

He can do nothing to stop it. He was a fool for ever thinking he could. He closes his eyes shut in an instinctive fear he can't hold back anymore. He's hoping he can bring himself to fight. He's silently begging for his brother to be merciful enough to make it quick.

The hand that grabs him is much more gentle than he expects. He struggles to be free, but the grip is tight enough to stop much movement. There is no squeeze. It is weight without malice, and cool to the touch.

He feels something the size of a tree trunk gently brush his hair away from his face. He lets out a gasp of air he had been craving for far too long. He tries to open his eyes. He feels the tears sweat from earlier is sticking his eyelids shut. He shudders. His arms are pinned, so he can't move to fix wipe his eyes.

Suddenly, he's being moved higher and higher. He hears steady flapping from above. The pace is slow enough to where the wind is just a gentle breeze soothing his clammy skin.

He feels his captor descending, and he's unceremoniously dropped to the ground. He wipes his eyes and stands up. He's dressed to the nines. He sees other figures roaming about. He can see how they sneak a glance his way, then happily chitter amongst themselves.

"Mijo, no te quedes ahí parado," his mother says as she suddenly slips through the crowd. This is how he remembers this is a dream. His mother would never refer to him so colloquially, "Entra, tu juramento está por comenzar."

"Un momento, madre. Hay algo que debo hacer primero."

She clucks her tongue, another informal mark of unreality, and leaves him be.

Alejandro turned around, but all he could see were faceless guests.

"You can come out. I know you're here." Alejandro felt the ground behind him quake slightly, and turned to look up at Noah.

"Sure you want to waste your time with me? The dream isn't going to last forever."

"What did you do?"

"Took you out of your own nightmare. Brought you into one of José's dreams. And before you throw a fit, this is one he already let me have. He's nowhere here."

"Alright, that brings me to my next question. Why?"

"Is it really so hard to believe I did something out of the goodness of my miserable excuse of a heart?"

"Sí."

"You're ridiculous," Noah groaned, rolling his eyes. "Fine, I did it because it's easier to get you sleeping if you actually want to sleep. Happy with that answer? Or do you want me to pull out my five step plan for sabotaging you?"

"Well, a little presentation would go a long way~" Alejandro teased. He was finally comfortable enough to find his own voice again.

"And congratulations, you've made me regret doing anything. I'm going back to insulting you the second you wake up."

"You can try, and it still won't work."

"It will. Now go on, you've got the rest of this dream and that's it."

Alejandro left Noah to go explore the rest of the ceremony of achieving the same position of his father as a Spanish ambassador.

He wakes up to find a small Noah clinging onto his chest. The demon had somehow managed to wriggle his way under one of Alejandro's arms and was using it as a blanket. He's still fast asleep. Alejandro tests how asleep by moving his arm slightly. Noah clings tighter to the arm, but otherwise doesn't stir.

Alejandro could just stand up. That would definitely force the smaller boy awake. ...But, as loathe as he is to admit, Noah did help him. So, possibly for the first time in his life, he decides to sleep in rather than wake up for his daily morning routine.

Noah grows a few inches, matching the height of Alejandro's knee, during their nap.

The two are still antagonistic towards each other, but it's nowhere near as bad as when they first met. Alejandro lords over Noah in the waking world, and Noah returns the favor in the dreaming. There is one added wrinkle, though.

Thanks to Alejandro's moment of weakness, Noah has gained the ability force Alejandro into taking a nap. It can only happen when he's already feeling tired, whether physically or mentally thanks to studying, or if he's doing a mindless task.

It's some of the best sleep Alejandro has ever had.

It aggravates him to no end.

When Noah isn't trying to convince Alejandro to give up on his dreams, he's either sleeping, or is reading one of the many books in the Burromuerto library if that's where Alejandro has decided to study.

Alejandro notices Noah struggling when he tries to get books to read due to his size. He offers to grab a book for Noah to bribe him into leaving Alejandro alone for this study session. Noah immediately starts taking advantage of this by questioning Alejandro about what kinds of books he has. Noah might as well get a book based on its contents rather than its weight.

The two start getting into book recommendations. Alejandro sweetens the deal by gifting Noah one of the books he no longer reads to get peace for as long as it takes for Noah to read the book. Noah accepts immediately and will cling to the book with his entire body when Alejandro tries to help him lift the book.

No. This is Noah's book now. No one else is allowed to touch it.

He's so possessive because human things are hard to come by in the demon realm. Only greed demons are able to carry human things back to the demon realm, so they've of course got a monopoly of jacked up prices. The only exception is if a demon properly owns a human thing. Or in this case, is gifted one.

So yeah, Noah will agree to let Alejandro touch it to carry it, but he's watching that thing like a hawk.

A few weeks pass like this. Eventually, José butts his way into Alejandro's life as he usually does. He gloats that their parents are planning to host a party for José to start making connections now as he's properly starting on his journey to becoming an ambassador.

The second he's gone, Noah and Alejandro start bonding by shit talking José.

Alejandro justifies trying so hard so that he can finally one up José. It's why he won't give in to sloth. Nothing good ever comes of doing nothing. Besides, it's one of the weakest of the sins, so it will be easy enough to overcome.

Noah argues that sloth isn't as terrible as Alejandro makes it out to be. It means actually getting rest when everything is overwhelming rather than chugging on through to crash and burn later. Taking a step back and doing nothing can lead to new ideas popping up because there is no longer stress preventing them. Hell, some innovation comes from humans being lazy and wanting a better way to do things.

Like any of the other sins, it's only bad when done in excess. And it can be worse than just being lazy. Having too much sloth means having too much apathy. Horrible people get away with atrocities when enough people are too lazy to do anything about it. It means nothing changes because nobody wants to change.

Noah reveals that underestimating sloth is exactly how José has absolutely screwed himself. José has given up his ability to dream. He thinks the only definition of that are his literal dreams at night, and that's what Noah has been feeding on so far.

They also mean his dreams about being an ambassador. His dreams of more. Dreams are heavily linked with desire and ambition. By the time Noah's done with him, José will be nothing more than a walking husk. He'll do the bare minimum needed to survive, but nothing more. Knowing he should long for something else but being unable to.

The only reason he hasn't done so immediately is if he does take it fully, it means his deal would be over, and no more being in the human realm.

This does remind Alejandro that he is having a casual conversation with a demon. Despite their current pleasantries, it would be a terrible thing to watch Noah get more creative in his interpretations of his deal with José. It's safer to keep him entertained than to let his mind wander.

It doesn't hurt that entertaining Noah has led to riveting conversation.

Still, he comes up with an idea to control Noah, and get himself some much deserved revenge. He asks if he could actually make a deal with Noah to get back at José.

Unfortunately Noah can't. Not because he doesn't want to. He's got no issues with taking José down a peg. He's just unable to make a deal with more than one human at a time. There are conflict of interest rules in place. Even if there weren't, he's still a teenager. He's not powerful enough to make multiple deals at a time yet.

But he knows a demon who'd be willing to help out.

Her name's Eva. She's a wrath demon. She's pretty straightforward. Tell her exactly what you want, and she won't try to screw with you so long as you don't do the same to her.

Alejandro is concerned about what her price would be, but he isn't going to say that directly. Instead, he comes up with a different plan to solve this in a way better than his brother had.

He asks about what kinds of things that Eva likes. Noah did mention that human objects were more difficult to come by in the demon world, yes? Alejandro could give something concrete rather than abstract. Everyone wins.

Noah doesn't say anything, but Alejandro can tell that Noah is impressed that he remembered something Noah had said. He must not have much chance to show off his knowledge in the demon realm.

Noah tells him that she likes music. All she's been able to scavenge is a very old, shitty MP3. Phones are more easy to come by, but with no service they're practically worthless. Besides, Eva's chill when she's not fully committing her job.

His only condition is Alejandro's going to have to agree to forget how to summon Eva after they've done the ritual. Eva doesn't like just anybody summoning her, and Noah respects that enough to not share it with others without her permission.

Alejandro agrees.

When the final word is spoken, he waits. And waits. and waits. It feels like he's been waiting for at least an hour. He's going to tap a hole in the floor with anticipation at this rate.

It can't be taking this long. The longer he waits, the longer José gets to prance around consequence-free. He deserves no peace for what he's put Alejandro through. His lips curl in disgust at the thought of his brother getting rewarded for all of his misdeeds. He wants to call his brother over, right here, right now. Just so he can throttle José himself-

"What do you want?" asked the demon who now stood in front of him. Her arms were crossed, and she looked annoyed to even be looking at him. Alejandro had to shake his head to head to let go of the pent-up rage he had suddenly developed.

"Hey iron woman." Noah commented from his current perch on a nearby bookshelf. Eva turned her attention away from Alejandro to see the smaller demon.

"Noah." Eva commented as she acknowledged him with a nod. Noah's face was still set with apathy, and Eva's with annoyance.

Yet Noah was wrapping his tail around his leg to prevent it from wagging as furiously as Eva's was.

"So, what do you want?" Eva repeated. The edge to her tone was dulled this time.

"I would like to make a deal with you. My brother is going to be at the center of a gala recently. I know he doesn't think as highly of others as he will pretend, so I would just like your help in making him more...honest about his true feelings." Noah sighed at this answer.

"You want a truth spell?" Eva asked. She turned to pay attention to Noah before Alejandro could form a response. "Why would you summon me for this?"

"He wants you to make his brother throw the rage fit to end all rage fits in front of an international audience."

"Then why didn't he just say that?"

"Because he doesn't know how to follow instructions."

"Then why'd you bring me a stupid one?" Eva asked Noah.

Alejandro had to bite his lip to stop himself from interrupting. He was being both ignored and insulted. He couldn't let this be his impression on anybody.

However, Noah knew this demon, while he did not. She clearly valued Noah's opinion over his own, so countering his opinion now would only serve to shut her off further from responding to the Spaniard.

"He has his moments," Noah replied, "Plus, you're going to like what he has to offer."

"Well?" Eva asked, turning her attention back to Alejandro.

"As Noah so tactfully implied, I do plan to offer a fair price," Alejandro said, glad to have control of the conversation again. He pulled out a small device he'd performed quite a bit of research to get his hands on. "I've heard that you are in need of more music. I have managed to find a top of the line mp3 player-"

"How many songs?" Eva interrupted. She was looking directly at Alejandro now.

"If I had to guess? A little over 20,000."

Eva's tail immediately dropped. He could see her mind move from processing that number, to grappling it, to understanding it. Her eyes shone with anticipation that she didn't bother to hide. Her tail was practically causing a minor tornado. Her hands were half clenched and shaking as if she was five seconds away from snatching the prized jewel Alejandro held in his hands.

"Ice Nine Kills."

"Hm?"

"Ice Nine Kills. Silver Scream 2: Welcome to Horrorwood. We're moving up from there. Now gimme."

"Well, hold on. We still need to work out some of the finer details-"

"Fine, sure, we have the deal, whatever you want now give it to me."

Alejandro had to hide the smirk that was threatening to form on his face. He had no idea his offer would work this perfectly. All he had to do was seal-

"Eva!" Noah snapped. "You just offered a human 'whatever they want' in a deal."

"...Oh." Eva realized.

"Yeah, 'oh'." Noah glanced at Alejandro. "And don't think I didn't see that look in your eyes. I'm proctoring your deal."

"But-" both Eva and Alejandro tried to argue.

"It's happening."

With that, the two negotiated for a fair deal. Eva could stay in the human realm specifically to download as many songs as she wanted for her mp3 player, and to help Alejandro in his revenge. After that, she'd go back, and the mp3 player would be hers forever.

They both agree to it, and the deal is set. Noah and Eva spend some time catching up while Eva searches for music. Noah insists on catching up in private, which he obliges. After two failed attempts to eavesdrop.

The three of them plan exactly how to best humiliate José. Alejandro hadn't known quite what to expect with Eva, but he was pleasantly surprised. Her ideas were simple, direct, and brutal. They contrasted with Alejandro and Noah's more elaborate plans until they came to a consensus.

The party happens, and everything is set in place. Eva is invisible to everyone else, and is preparing elsewhere. Alejandro just needs to stay away from his brother so he doesn't realize something is amiss with Noah.

Alejandro knows that this is the perfect time to put himself out there. Especially since José's reputation is about to be shattered. He'll be remembered as the good Burromuerto this time around. Talking comes as second nature to him. All he has to do is talk, and just ignore Noah.

Noah, who's not having a good time at this party. Despite being invisible, his eyes are darting around everywhere as if they could see him. Thanks to being invisible, he's constantly having to avoid feet stepping on him. He's sticking as closely as he can to Alejandro, though he's not commenting on it at all.

Alejandro excuses himself to go to a more quiet part of the mansion forbidden to guests. Noah's visibly more relaxed as they get farther away from the crowd. But he does ask what Alejandro's doing.

Alejandro attempts to lie about being the one who needed space, but Noah shuts him down since he could see Alejandro lighting up when he talked to others. Alejandro will confess to noticing Noah and leaving since he knew Noah would follow. Their new partnership won't do well if one of them is in a near state of panic.

...Consider it returning the favor for the nightmare, if that helps.

Noah's quiet as he recognizes that this human is showing the closest thing to compassion that he can muster. He wants to say something, but the time of José's humiliation is nearing, and he wants to be there to see it. Alejandro makes his way back inside. He keeps Noah calm in the crowd by having him perch on his shoulder, and quietly making fun of the guests as they pass.

Eventually, José's breakdown begins. It works gloriously. He's swearing at other ambassadors. He's throwing things. At one point he's about to let loose of of the skeletons in the Burromuerto's family closet, but he's dragged away before he can. Alejandro has to hide his laughter, though Noah has no need to.

Unfortunately, it means that Noah has broken the deal on his end because he's intentionally let Alejandro beat Jose in something: not causing an international scandal. He gets pulled back to the demon realm and as punishment, can't answer any summons for at least a year unless it's for him specifically.

Alejandro's heartbroken to have Noah ripped away from him. He'd grown rather fond of having the demon around. He can't ask Eva for more help because she disappeared once José's scandal ended. He tries to find the book José used to summon Noah, but it was shredded. José was smart enough to guess that a demon had something to do with his irrational behavior.

Alejandro spends the next few weeks obsessing over finding the right summoning circle. His grades are slipping the tiniest amount, and he can't bring himself to care. He forces himself to sleep. He hopes that will somehow increase his chances of finding Noah. They feel empty without Noah to watch. He has no idea how to find one for Noah specifically, though he certainly does try. He settles for the next best thing: trying a generic summoning circle with the first gift Alejandro gave him as a conduit. Maybe he could at least find a demon who'd be willing to make a deal to help him get in touch with Noah.

This is incredibly dangerous and stupid, but the risk is worth it.

His stomach growls as he finishes the circle. He's been so focused on his work. He doesn't remember the last time he's eaten. He could leave to grab a quick bite-

No, no. He knows what this is. These thoughts aren't his. They can't be Noah's either. Noah's never cared much for-

stuffing his face until he can take no more. His body is a temple, and it deserves to be lavished. He's salivating, and must force himself not to run for the kitchen.

He's rewarded for his discipline with a large, blond demon who calls himself Owen.

He explains the situation to Owen, but no sooner does he utter Noah's name that Owen lights up.

"Ooooh, YOU'RE AL!!!"

Owen immediately starts going on about how Noah's his best friend. Which confuses Alejandro. He'd assumed Eva was Noah's best friend. She was stoic, blunt, and had common sense. She made sense.

This oaf with no volume control did not.

Owen keeps going on regardless of Alejandro's thought process. He completely outs Noah as being a mess thinking he'd never see Alejandro again. Noah was sleeping even harder than was normal for him, he was talking about Alejandro a lot you name it!

So of course Owen will be happy to get the two connected again!

Owen does want to give Alejandro Noah's summoning circle/number, but Alejandro did summon him so it does have to be some kind of deal. Uh...What's the nearest snack he's got? Owen'll take that.

He shares the information, then immediately leaves to go tell his little buddy that Alejandro plans to summon him.

Alejandro changes the circle to summon Noah with fervor.

When Alejandro summons Noah he feels as if every worry he's ever had has melted away. He wants to lay his head on Noah's lap and look up at him. He wants to reach up and tease his fingers through Noah's hair. He wants to trick Noah into leaning down so they can share a kiss and shift to nuzzling together. No more fighting to be on top. Just this once.

They're both blushing when Noah does get summoned because uh they both felt THAT. Neither of them meant that to be the way to confess but uh, whoops.

The two make a deal: "I'll help you get revenge on Jose until you're satisfied (knowing that with Alejandro, he never will be), and you'll let me stay in the human realm for as long as I want."

"Change that to for as long as I live."

"Still don't trust me?"

"I have to put some limits on you mi gatito travioso. Besides, now I know you have an investment in keeping me alive."

"You're terrible."

"Says the demon."

There are many ways to seal a deal with a demon.

They seal this one with a kiss.

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