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#so write whoever u feel!!
mutatedangels-a · 1 year
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@thewolfruns // eli x ??
It was the best sleep he'd gotten in days. And shit like that seldom came.
Eli's eyes flickered open. His body and mind recalibrated as he took in his surroundings. He never really knows what takes them so long to click together; it's not like he ever wakes up anywhere different. Anywhere besides the crow's nest. Maybe in different spots each time but always within the same four-walled sanctuary.
If you could even call it that anymore.
Well, the good thing about hiding out from this whole world-ending thing in the lookout is that it's high above ground. (It's a detriment, too, but Eli holds on to the few pleasures he has in life.) Lookout towers are anywhere between 60 to 120 feet across the U.S. and he happens to work at one of the taller ones. Deadwood Peak. They call it Deadwood because it's full of redwood trees that should be dead by now, taken down by forest fires or maybe cut down by some poachers or by some other force of nature.
It's a lame story, but it's the only one he's heard from the locals, and the chances of anybody telling him anything different is slim-to-none. So he sticks with it.
During this whole world-end, Deadwood Peak Lookout A8 has only been broken into once. It's so far down the trail of lookouts that only a few hikers, real serious ones, have ever reached it throughout its lifespan. From up top Eli's only seen maybe one or two groups pass by; for some odd reason, they never tried to ransack the tower. Maybe they didn't notice him.
So when he wakes up from a long slumber, he doesn't rush to get up. He never has a reason to.
Until he hears the rattling of a doorknob. His mind stiffens but his body springs into action, as agile as one could after waking up. Bumbling limbs are activated and refined once more as he reaches for his rifle and points it straight at the door. He doesn't say anything, not yet. For a second he takes his eyes off the door to look at the sun outside the lookout, through the window. It's bright. Who the hell has got the guts to break into someplace in broad daylight?
Somebody who didn't care whether they lived or died, he bets. He takes a deep breath in and doesn't let it go until. Until.
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powderblueblood · 9 months
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How about Lacy finding Eddie's writing? 🤭
need you to imagine me listening to a fifth of beethoven from the saturday night fever soundtrack whilst writing this because i became insane and filled it with Clues.............
it's like trying to understand the fucking zodiac killer.
it's all codes and ciphers and scrawls and-- well, she thought she might have been reading that one upside down but it's actually indecipherable any way you twist it.
and it's not like any of it is even written on paper either. torn open cigarette packs, napkins, burger wrappers from the diner. one time a leaf.
because eddie's not like lacy in the way she keeps a journal but eddie's like lacy in that if he's roundhoused with a thought that he needs to remember, he's got to write it down now immediately pronto on any available surface.
which is pretty pointless, since he keeps losing all this garbage and she has to pick it up after him.
she bears over the spread of scraps like an fbi agent, palms braced to the table. there's a thread here, but she can't quite untangle it. she's staring at a pile of shit that says shit like
crabs incident-- bruised like a peach worth biting-- violet like violence??
red tights. tingly. carnelian little carnivore.
track two. treasure.
persephone's hall pass.
seventh grade & as many minutes in limbo. shoulda ripped off band aid.
mage in a mink coat.
well, that last one--
"you dumpster diving now? hard times."
fuck! fuck. told you, rat blood. appearing out of nowhere with no noise no notice to then become the loudest thing in the room. he's like thunderclap, this fucko, like a spontaneous combustion.
he also doesn't even recognize his own handwriting, seems like. she blushes, furious. doesn't know why.
"community service. they have me picking up the trailer trash's trailer trash."
"snitty!" he shoves the bag of chips he's holding at her--an offering, he can't do anything normal around her--and reaches for one of the scraps. lacy watches him like a scientist watching a guinea pig for brain activity-- and his eyes go all wide and panicky. "wait."
"eddie-- hey!" but he's scrambling now, going for all the little pieces of writing she'd been trying to arrange on the table like a pointless puzzle. "don't--"
"where'd you get all this shit, huh?! going through my pockets now, is that it? like a cop?"
"i-- hey, don't you fucking dare-- look, you shed!"
"i shed?"
"you shed. you've got shit falling out of that stupid, enormous nerd binder every goddamn day because you just shove shit in there and don't organize anything, and i wasn't gonna stand around and let you just litter everywhere and--" now it's her turn to be like. wait. crosses her arms, eyes narrow, she's mother superior serving nailed ya bitch. "--why are you all skittish?"
"huh?"
"it's just-- trash, right?" she snatches a burger wrapper out of his grasp. oh this is delish.
"yeah," he grabs, but she's holding it behind her back and god her face is like stupid smirky, "but it's my trash. my--giveit--private... trash."
eddie munson is blushing.
"who's the mage?"
"the fucking.... the what?"
little crinkle as she unfolds a piece torn off a brown paper bag. "mage in a mink coat. who's that?"
"nobody."
"i have a mink coat."
"oh. does that really say mage? 'coz it should say mange." he's such an asshole. she's grinning so wide.
everyone says revenge is a dish best served cold but she bets she could use eddie munson's cheeks as a hotplate and eat right off 'em. it'd taste so much better. lobster bisque. filet mignon. michelin star.
"have you been writing about me, munson?"
his face is all stone-set, mouth all i can't fucking believe this and eyes all i'd cut the brake lines in her van if she wasn't the one scamming rides off me all the time. "li'l miss my life is incomplete without eddie munson wants to talk?"
"called you a neanderthal in the next sentence. don't forget that."
"you're such a beastie."
"carnelian little carnivore, you wrote."
"what makes you so sure it's all about you, huh?"
"context clues."
he glances down. she is, in fact, wearing the aforementioned tingly-feeling-inspiring red tights again today. shit.
"what happened in seventh grade?" she's pointing to the scrap in his hand, one he's managed to keep out of her snatchy little fingers.
she doesn't remember anything significant about seventh grade. but he does, and a knot tightens in his chest and he's about to lie and say something crass about my fist, a stopwatch and a view of you from underneath the bleachers at cheerleading practice-- then final bell rings.
"that is for me to know--"
"--and for me to die ignorant?" she's an active listener.
"precisely, you wench. now get the fuck outta here, i got hellfire."
lacy leaves the scraps.
"i will find out, y'know."
he knows. "you're like a bitch with a bone that way."
"the bitchiest."
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why-the-heck-not · 2 years
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you know you’ve fucked ur time management when you don’t even bother assigning tasks for different days. Instead you just have a long to do-list, and every day is a “good luck buddy, we’re rly in it now” :D
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mimir97477906 · 6 months
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im so sosry for ranting abour this again but auhgufhgh im making a ref sheet of my ocs for myself beacse EVERYTIME I DRAW THEM THEY LOOK SOOOSK DIFFERENT os i thoguht maybe this can help me memorize their faces but EVEN THO IM USING GUIDELINES THE SAME CHARACTER LOOKS LIKE DIFFERENT PEOPLE ITS JUST A HEAD TURN AROUND I CANT DO THIS I FEEL SO VIOLENT WHY IS MY ART STYLE HAVING AN IDENTITY CRISIS HOWWWWWWW DO I FIX THIS
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causenessus · 3 months
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ness I hope u know with all the details ur sneaking us for love notes it might turn into my wdo 😭 mac and cheese 😭 yes please I’ll eat it up
+ SAFE FLIGHT !! IM SO JEALOUS AB HADESTOWN
RAHH bro I hope U know how much of an inspiration wdo is for me and in writing this I REALLY HOPE YOU'RE GONNA ENJOY LOVE NOTES AND IDK WHY ATSUMU & MAC N CHEESE IS SUCH A PROMIMENT THOUGHT IN MY HEAD ALL THE TIME 😭😭 AND TYSM!! AA i'm going to respectfully sneakily take so many pictures of their set <33
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verdantdaises · 2 months
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Important question, do you write them as dogs or as people?
Good question!!! I deliberately leave it ambiguous bc I don’t really care what people picture in their heads like idc truly ahaha
Either way they have some fur and are dog men or are humans and have skin it doesn’t matter to me, I do mention skin a bit but people can interpret it however they want :))
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sudden urge to infodump on main but someone in my comments left such a GENIUS comment about changing states that I'm thinking of weeks later about how the setup of CS is just soooo cool & that it's so fascinating that on a trip for support Jeremiah ends up needing to BE support... and how in a way that's a break into "true" adulthood for him. and it's got me thinking about how sad the premise is but also how human it is??? like this year alone has been tragedy upon tragedy every month for me LOL & to me it feels like yeah, maybe 21 is the time when things change & you're made to hold a lot more weight & how that's kind of a shared experience in your early 20s and how that in a way is kind of a beautiful thing while also being a tiny bit of a tragedy & that's really the vibe I'm trying to capture in CS!!!!
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weldfists · 3 months
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thinking abt sett and cannibalism as a metaphor for love
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piratewinzer · 1 year
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Wait wait no, I have a better you’re-taking-too-long-to-answer (but not really please take as long as you need I just want to spam you with asks) punishment ask:
Which scenario do you think would hurt more but also be better: Crowley getting his memory wiped, or Aziraphale getting his memory wiped?
Important information: they somehow cross paths during the mind wipe and the one who didn’t get his memory wiped is heartbroken over being forgotten, because he thought that while the friendship is gone the memories will remain. But clearly even those are gone.
Now I have well and truly waited to long (I promise I loved these and was just savoring them in my inbox, like saving the best bite for last)
I have been staring at this question because it hit me like a city bus
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It was a tough decision. Both scenarios make my heart weep like crazy. But I'm going to go with Crowley, and here's my angst about it:
Crowley put everything on the line. Nina and Maggie backhanded his eyes open and he finally got up the courage - even after Aziraphale invited him to heaven (in Crowley's eyes, rejecting him outright) - to say his feelings. Express that love physically, to kiss like real people do. It was out there and open and Aziraphale felt it too but could not show that level of reciprocation right then. He could not run away with his demon to Alpha Centauri. He felt obligation to try to fix heaven (and then, perhaps later, save humanity). Oh, he wants to. He wants to give in and he wants to confess too - his hand shaking as he tries to preserve Crowley's kiss on his lips, the eight separate glances back to Crowley before getting in that heavenly elevator. But he can't.
And then, picture this: Events unfold. Time passes. It's finally time for Aziraphale to return those affections, boldly and in the open. The day is saved and it's his turn to go after his demon, to wrap him in 6,000 years of unspoken love, to shower him with affection that is no longer denied or clandestine. They meet. Their eyes lock. Aziraphale smiles in a desperate way, finally ready, and -
"I'm sorry, who are you?" "Crowley, it's me. It's Azriaphale." "Azirafalala? Funny old name, that. Well, better be getting on." (Crowley leaves, not even the faintest expression of recognition for his dearest friend and best love. Aziraphale never even got the chance to tell him, clear and defined, how much he loved him. And now he is all alone with the memory of Crowley's confession, and the rejection. He's the only one left to remember - he has to carry the pain alone for the next stretch of eternity. He never gets to kiss back.)
How loud do you think the sound of an angel's heart breaking is?
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dhmis-autism · 2 years
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drawing stuff for valentimes and u all better enjoy it once i finish bc its the sappiest stuff ill ever draw ever
#then i will go back to not doing that kjahsjah#both bc like ive said before i have a way better grasp on yellow and ducks dynamic than red and ducks#<- they make no damn sense. compel me tho#and also bc makeing cutesy stuff with these guys feels a lot like the cutesy fanart of the NOPE movie that came out after it dropped#if that makes sense#idk. esp with fandom stuff theres a lot of room i feel to get like. caught up in other peoples interpretations of characters#and not often enough think about the actual source material#which is sad to me when its something like this that i love and think about SO much#so u all get ONE (1) for my fav bday month holiday and then thats it#then ill keep posting my fcking 6 page long comics that are just duck and yellow talking at 3 am jdkfhskjdsh#<- i have TWO OF THESE. ITS NUTS.#anyways i hope the dialouge in the stuff im making now sounds vaguely like anything red would say EVER bc i think hes the one#i struggle the most with#how would duck handle being gushy? i already know in my HEART can write that in my sleep#idk wtf is going on with red still not over him driving a car into a wall#hes so like. everyone thinks hes way more serious than the other two and he absolutely is not are you kidding.#hes JUST as looney tunes as the other two#its like. sometimes. after building and building. he'll decide to be serious.#one ep we need to get the fuck out of here we need to get the fuck out#NEXT EP AND IM ACTUALLY GLAD WHOEVER GAVE US THIS BORING NON ELECTRIC URN DIED!!#i cannot sort that boy out in my head he makes no sense to me#ANYWAYS I COULD TALK ALL DAY ABT THEM. GUESS THATS WHAT THIS BLOG IS FOR LOL BUT BYE
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ronanlynchbf · 1 year
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"all this foreshadowing abt declan dying and then he didn't even die" well personally i think declan got murdered dead by mstief in greywaren so. actually 2 me he did die. Badly.
#like sorry 2 to say it but also not sorry the declan i know would never do to matthew what he did in gw..#like obviously he has done some shit stuff to matthew (and ronan as well. this to mean ronan did shit stuff irt matthew as well not declan#did shit stuff to ronan. though he very much did and vice versa but like not the point here.) BUT i know he would NEVER strip matthew of his#autonomy like that and NEVER for so long. like i didn't write declan lynch as a character but also i know he wouldn't do that. that's his#baby brother........and i know he feels like matthew robbed him of his youth and his life and whoever he would've grown up to be but HE JUST#WOULD NEVER....i know this....like sorry but that is the most awful fucked up shit to do ever in the entire world. someone depends on you#and looks up to you and trusts you and you take away the thing that keeps them awake??? i'd even say the thing that essentially keeps them#ALIVE bc without a sweetmetal dreams aren't really alive they're just sleeping for eternity which is a kind of death. LIKE......#that just baffles me so much u just have to be soooooo uncaring to do that....like if he just did it in the moment of anger - snatched that#pendant off matthew's neck so he fell asleep and declan wouldn't have to deal with him anymore and then immediately afterwards was like.#what have i done this is so fucked up to do to someone. and put the pendant back on matthew. and apologized prefusely for it. that would#have still not been fine but in bouts of anger ppl do stupid desperate things that negatively affect others and it would've been#considerably less fucked up than it is now. like declan kept that pendant away for UP TO TWO DAYS. he drove the whole way back put ronan#somewhere safe carried matthew out of the car and into the house carried him upstairs into the bedroom and put him in bed went back#downstairs went outside locked the car went back into the house ate showered slept woke up ate breakfast again go through the whole day and#NOT ONCE did he think to himself oh this thing i'm doing is genuinely horrible i can't just take away someone's like. awareness. like that#& went to go 'wake' matthew????? NOT ONCE????? ARE YOU BEING SERIOUS???? NOT ONCE IN THOSE ONE AND A HALF OR TWO OR POSSIBLY MORE DAYS???#also just the whole. turning into his father thing. HARD NO. u mean the same declan who hated his father for very right reasons and hated#what he did to the entire lynch family both while he was alive and after he died the same declan that hated all the trading and buying and#selling dream things business and just that underground market in general (that btw. put the family he had left in life-threatening danger.)#the same declan who hated his father for dreaming a more perfect and loving unconditionally copy of his actual mother (rightfully so.) went#on 2 go into the exact business he always hated w/ a fiery passion?? ur also telling me he invited his father's killer to his wedding? fake.#trc#greywaren#<- needs its own tag bc i'm not putting it in the same category as call down the hawk my beloved call down the hawk.#anyway. that entire essay in the tags can be summarized w/: who declan ended up as & his entire arc is SO shit i hate it sm peace n love 🙏#as i've said before. me: mom can we have declan lynch? mom: no we have declan lynch @ home. declan lynch @ home: declan lynch in greywaren.#<<<<< full experience of reading gw. 2 me. ARGHHHH AOUGH THE POTENTIAL IT HAD THE POTENTIAL IT WASTED... IT'S ACTUALLY SO SAD....
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lettersiarrange · 27 days
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Since I just checked my ask box for the first time in a hot minute:
Just a note that tumblr doesn't tell me when I have new asks or messages and I rarely check my notifications. Helpful corrections of misinformation/any messages in good faith are appreciated (though it's possible I won't see them until weeks later, sorry), but if something I reblog angers you enough you feel the need to get hostile in my askbox on anon, I reccomend the unfollow button.
I'm also not comfortable posting asks asking for any sort of donations/directing people to your blog for donation purposes, sorry :// I just don't have time to vet asks like that
#feel like I've had more hostile asks than usual in the last year or so#(with the usual number being none and the recent number being more than none)#I'm not sure if it's like (1) person who hatefollowed and now just wants to be nitpicky about everything#or if the culture of the site changed when i wasn't paying attention and people are back to being hostile#my theory is that the fall of twitter means twitter users are coming back to tumblr and bringing their hostility with them#also i can't believe i have to say this AGAIN#but while what i reblog is generally in line with what i believe...#sometimes i reblog stuff bc it's interesting and makes points i haven't heard before#or i like the overall message even tho there's a few pieces I'm iffy about#or it's not how I'd say it or i feel like it's lacking in some nuance but still think the point is worth making#if you see a really consistent take on my blog with consistent framing then yeah safe to assume it's probably reflective of how i feel#but if you have problems with the phrasing or framing of a specific post maybe take that up with the OP??#i can find someone's speech worthy of dissemination without agreeing with every word#I'm not going to take responsibility for other ppl's phrasing esp if it's just the phrasing or framing in one post and not a theme 4 my blog#sometimes i just think things are an interesting conversation or worthy of talking abt even if not everyone is saying things 100% correctly#feel free to come for me for things i actually write. but I'm not gonna take responsibility for other people's phrasing#(AGAIN with the understanding that like. if I were constantly reblogging posts with slurs or something that would be different)#this just in humans are complex and do not agree 1000% with every post they've ever shared online#pls hold me accountable for things i actually say...#a good example of a VALID critique was when i was following a secret terf and i was accidentally reblogging things with terf OPs semi-often#there was concern i was a terf (i am not... just bad at spotting terf dogwhistles) bc there were a few of these like...#not explicitly terfy but like popular with terf posts on my blog#so thanks again to whoever let me know so i could hunt down the secret terf i was following and unfollow#and even tho it's not true that I'm a terf it was a valid concern bc of the consistency#if u think the phrasing or framing in (1) singular post i reblogged is sooooo horrible... pls take it up with the OP#again with obvious exceptions of like. hate speech. slurs. actual alt right talking points. content in the post that is directly harmful#but anons in my inbox have been Big Mad abt like. one line in one post. or one bad piece of framing#or one not quite nuanced enough take. or one framing where not every person in the world was considered#so pls take that shit up with the person who actually wrote the post and stop acting like i personally came to your house#and yelled the words of whatever post at your grandma and then was mean to your dog
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hongssami · 8 months
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life update: i hate applying for government ids
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headkiss · 1 month
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fall right into me
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: when something happens to your apartment and you need a place to stay, steve, your best friend, is quick to provide it for you. your prolonged proximity forces you both to realize some things.
word count: 13.6k
warnings: childhood bffs to lovers, absolute idiots in love, mentions of a negative relationship with parents, probably inaccurate descriptions of some things but it’s (say it with me) for the plot!!!
a/n: i know it’s been a LONG time since i’ve posted a long fic so thank u guys for ur patience <3 i had so much fun getting back to it and writing these two, and i hope it’s at least a little bit worth the wait!!! ily :,)
𝜗𝜚
Your shoes are still wet as you dial the first number that comes to mind: Steve’s.
He picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Steve.”
“Hi,” you can imagine him on the other side of the phone, leaning casually against the wall, an easy smile on his face, “what’s going on?”
You’re not quite sure where to start.
Coming home from work earlier, you’d been excited to shower and change and lay around for the rest of the evening, your book hanging open in your lap and some mindless TV filling the silence.
The day seemed to have other plans for you, though, because as you walked down the stairs to your apartment—one in the basement of a sweet, older couple’s house who just never used the space and converted it—the carpet had made an ugly squelch as soon as you stepped on it.
You looked down at your shoe against the carpet, at the way its color was darker than usual from whatever water had gotten into it. Looking up, you found a complete mess. A piece of the ceiling hanging open right above your bed, water still dripping in steady drops from the gap, your bedding ruined among many other things.
You don’t know how long you stood there, hand over your mouth, eyes flickering over the damage like you were hoping it would vanish, like it was only something you imagined.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
The couple who owns the house came down when they heard you shout for them, unsure of what else to do. They’d both gasped when they came down, and began apologizing for something that really wasn’t their fault before one ran up to call whoever it was they needed to call to fix this and the other comforted you with a gentle “we’ll take care of it, sweetie.”
You nodded, eyes still roaming your space that was now uninhabitable.
It’s an old house, something was bound to happen at some point, you only wished it wasn’t so inconvenient for you. A small leak, you could have handled, but the ceiling practically caving in?
Yeah, it was a complete fucking mess.
Hours later, with the damage assessed and set to take a few weeks to fix up, you’re on the phone with the one person you’d known would pick up.
You fill Steve in on what happened, and his first response is a sigh of, “Shit.”
“Yeah, shit,” you agree. “And now I’m gonna have to live with my parents for a while and I don’t know how I’m gonna go back into that house, Steve.”
If you’re being honest, the couple you live with now was kinder to you than your parents were. You suppose that’s one of the many things that you and Steve have bonded over.
“Just come live with me, instead,” he offers without hesitation.
Steve says it like it’s obvious, a no-brainer, and you guess it should be, since you’ve slept over at the Harrington’s house countless times before. Only, this is different because you’d be staying for a while, because you’d be needing his help, which makes you feel all awkward and guilty.
He’s been your absolute best friend for as long as you can remember, and you’re one hundred percent sure you’d offer the same thing if the roles were reversed, but that doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept, not when you’re already frazzled from the events of the day.
“No, Steve, I’m sorry I’m just being dramatic,” you say, twisting the phone’s cord around your finger. “I’ll be fine, really. It’s just a month, or so, and I don’t wanna be in your way or-”
“When have you ever cared about being in my way, angel?” The pet name he’s called you ever since your ninth grade Halloween party slips out naturally, the way it always does. “Besides, this house is too fucking big for me as it is, and you know my parents won’t be around to care, either.”
“I can’t ask you to let me move in, Steve.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not asking. I’m offering. It’ll be like that one week when we were twelve and you stayed over for spring break, only longer. It’s perfect!”
There’s a small smile ghosting across your face as you recall the memory he’s talking about. A blanket fort in their spacious living room, sleeping bags and pillows piled inside it along with two flashlights.
You can picture the way he looks on the other end of the phone, his hair a bit messy from running his hands through it during the day, one strand rogue against his forehead, his shoulder leaned carelessly against the wall the way it usually is when he stands. Like he can’t be bothered to hold himself up, like there’s constantly a weight on him.
“Are you sure about this, Steve? It’s really okay if you’re not. I swear I’ll be fine.”
“As if I’m letting you spend multiple weeks back in your parent’s house. You’re staying with me, alright?” His voice is insistent, yet kind, letting you know that he’s being honest, that he means it. “We’ll order pizzas and watch shitty romcoms, ‘kay?”
“You can call romcoms shitty all you want, but we both know you get teary at every single one.”
“Don't change the subject, angel. Also, fuck off,” he says, though you can hear the smile in his voice. “So, you’re living with me, yeah?”
You don’t think you could say no to him even if you wanted to.
“Yeah, alright, Steve. Thank you so much.”
“None of that. I know you’d do the same.”
There’s something beautiful about the kind of trust and ease that comes with a friendship as long as yours. One where you’ve watched each other grow up, awkward phases and all, and stuck together the entire way. There’s no questioning whether or not you’d be there for each other if you were in need.
It’s known, felt. Like a fact.
“Now,” he continues, “I’ll pick you up, okay? Ten minutes, tops.”
“Okay.”
“You need me to bring boxes for your stuff?”
“I’m not sure how much is worth keeping. It’s pretty ugly in there.”
Your voice goes small at the end, because the gravity of it all is really sinking in. You’ll have to replace a lot of stuff. Stuff you don’t have money for right now.
But, you haven’t let yourself cry just yet, so you swallow it down.
“I’ll bring some anyway, then. We’ll figure it out, angel, don’t worry.”
“Thanks again, Steve. See you soon.”
“Ten minutes,” he assures you, then the line clicks.
-
True to his word, Steve arrives in under ten minutes, which isn’t surprising considering the size of Hawkins, but feels reassuring all the same.
You’re sitting on the curb in front of the house when Steve’s BMW pulls over on the other side of the road, and you stand just as he climbs out and shuts his door, rounding the car and jogging over to you.
His keys jingle as he tucks them into the pocket of his faded jeans, his opposite hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder, “You okay?”
The warmth of his palm seeps through your work shirt that you’ve yet to change out of, and you let your eyes fall shut just for a second before looking at his face, “Guess so,” you nod. “Maybe ask me again after all of this?”
Steve’s arm winds itself over your shoulders, tugging you into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of your head, simple as an instinct. “I’ve got you. We’ll get through this, angel.”
We’ll, he says. A team.
You reach up and squeeze his hand and nod, guiding him to the side-entrance leading to your basement apartment.
“I hope you didn’t wear your good shoes for this,” you say.
Steve looks down at his feet and shrugs, “Shoes can be replaced.”
He lets you lead the way down the stairs, his footsteps close behind yours. You wince when you look at the damage again, even though you’d seen it minutes ago. You can't bring yourself to look at Steve, to see the reaction on his face, because you think it’ll just make it all more real.
He mouths the word ‘fuck’ while you aren’t looking, then claps his hands once. “Okay, let’s figure out what we can save, yeah? Where do you want me?”
You’re grateful for his gentle guidance at what to do. “Maybe the bathroom? Everything in there should be fine, so it just needs to be packed.”
“‘Kay. I’ll just go grab some boxes from my car,” Steve says. He squeezes your hand once before heading up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”
You decide to tackle the worst spot first. Though the place is more like a studio, the side that houses your bed and your closet is the most affected, so you head over there and try to tune out the squish of the carpet beneath your feet.
You’re opening the sliding doors to your closet when Steve comes back, dropping a stack of boxes by your feet and running his hand down your arm softly before heading over to the bathroom to pack for you.
Even his presence seems to be making things a little bit easier for you, and each time he finds a small way to touch you or speak to you, to remind you that he’s there, you’re glad for it.
Half of your closet is a gross, wet mess, but some things are salvageable, which you take as a win. Things might be damp, but at least it’s only water, you suppose. A cycle in the dryer and most things will be wearable again.
Your dresses that are hung get the worst of it, soaked and smelly, and you decide that it’d be easier to get a couple new ones than to try and save what’s there.
Steve checks in every now and then, poking his head out of the bathroom’s doorway to look at you and make sure you’re doing alright, giving you a thumbs up when you look over to him.
You’re not sure how you’d be managing this if you were alone, and you’re thankful that you don’t have to.
The next time he checks on you, you’re by your nightstand.
Sitting atop of it is a framed picture of you and Steve from summer camp when you were around ten years old, maybe younger. Only now, the picture’s stained with water and the frame you’d decorated all those years ago at camp is a splotchy mess.
Where yours and Steve’s handwriting used to be, is now a blur from the water seeping into the wooden frame, the marker’s colors muddy. You frown, picking it up and running your thumb over the edge.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re tearing up, frustrated and sad and tired. Memories like this one are the most special to you, the ones that have kept you going for so long, and just like that, the picture that’s sat on your nightstand since being taken is gone, and it fucking sucks.
“Hey, angel?” Steve calls.
When all you do is sniffle and mumble an “mhm?” in response, he sets the box he’d been packing on the bathroom counter and walks over to you.
He comes up behind you, resting his hands on your upper-arms and peering over your shoulder at the ruined picture.
“It was my favorite one,” you say, voice breaking a little. You wipe your tear away as it trails down your cheek, your own fingertips too harsh against your skin.
Although it’s soaked and splotchy now, Steve knows which picture it is. The one where you’ve both got your neon summer camp t-shirts on, the one where his cheeks and nose are completely sunburnt and you’re both grinning up at the camera from your seats on the ground.
Steve’s clutching a stick in his hand for some reason, and you’ve got your fist tangled in the sleeve of his shirt.
It feels like no time and forever has passed since then.
Steve grabs the picture and pries it gently from your hands, setting it back onto the table and turning you around in his grip to face him.
“We can fix it,” he tells you, his brown eyes all soft as his hands come up to cup your face, thumbs swiping your tears away.
“But the frame-”
“We’ll fix it, angel. I’ll find a way, okay? We can pack it in one of the boxes and figure it out.”
“Steve-”
“Look at me,” he urges you when your gaze flickers to the ground. You listen. “This fucking sucks, I know it does, but you’re strong and I’m here, and we can handle this.”
His voice is quiet, but sure. You search his face for any trace of a lie and find none. He really believes what he’s saying, and he really believes in you.
“Thank you for being here.” You take a deep breath and drop your forehead against the collar of his shirt. “I’m sorry for crying. I know it’s kinda stupid. Most of this is replaceable, it’s just-”
“It’s not stupid,” he says, letting his chin rest atop your head. “You’re allowed to cry. Hell, I’d probably be kicking and screaming on the floor like I'm back in the terrible twos.”
You laugh wetly into his shirt.
“Now,” he says, pulling back and putting his hands on his hips, “the quicker we pack, the quicker we go home. I’ll even let you wear a pair of my good fuzzy socks.”
A smile tugs at your mouth. “Deal.”
-
Steve wouldn’t let you do much of the work after that.
Instead, he simply held up items for you to assess from where you’d been leaning against the wall and packed it into a box if it was a ‘yes,’ or tossing it aside dramatically just to try and get you to laugh if it was a ‘no.’
Once things were sorted through and packed, you loaded everything into Steve’s car—which wasn’t a whole bunch, considering how much you had to leave behind.
You’d refused to let Steve carry the boxes all on his own, though he tried, but he still managed to open the doors for you whenever you made it to his car, even when his own hands were full, too.
By the time you were finished, you were drained. It felt like you’d lived multiple days in the one. An eight hour shift opening at the store, then coming home to a wrecked apartment. All you wanted to do was shower and lay down and not get back up.
Steve knows you well enough to be able to tell when it’s time to fill the silence and when it isn’t, and on the drive back to his place, while your head was leaned against his window, he knew to stay quiet and give you a bit of space.
He turned the radio on, but not too loud, letting the songs hum through the speakers. At every stop sign, he reached over and gave your thigh a light squeeze. Reassuring, kind, somehow exactly what you needed at the moment. Nothing more, nothing less.
You were no stranger to the Harrington’s house, having been there countless times since you were little, but it feels more intimidating now, knowing you’ll be staying. You feel silly for being worried, but you are. Asking for help makes you feel like a burden.
Steve, however, doesn’t let you entertain that thought for long, parking in his driveway and jogging around to open the passenger door for you. “Honey, we’re home!”
“Dork,” you say, though you accept his hand and let him tug you up out of the car.
Grabbing the first couple of boxes, Steve leads you inside and upstairs, right to the guest room across the hall from his own bedroom. The closest one to him.
The house has at least two guest rooms, though you suppose with how little Steve's parents are around, you could consider there to be three. Three spare rooms and Steve puts you up in the nearest one possible. It makes your heart squish in your chest, how caring he is. He doesn’t even have to try, really, the goodness in him shows even when he tries to keep it hidden.
It only takes a few trips down to his car and back before all of your boxes are stacked against the wall. You decide you’ll deal with them later.
Steve runs over to his room and grabs a set of pajamas that you’d left there, and hands them to you. “I figured you’d wanna wash up.”
“You calling me smelly, Harrington?”
“Shut up, I think you smell nice. Usually.”
“Hey!”
“I’m teasing, angel.” He ruffles your hair. You swat his hand away. “You know where the bathroom is, and there should be soap and stuff in the shower already. Just yell if you need something, okay?”
You do know where the bathroom is. You have your own toothbrush in a cup by the sink, a set of travel-sized skin care products in the cupboard behind the mirror for whenever you end up staying over.
It’s funny, you’ve always felt more at home here than at your own parents house, and though he hasn’t said it to you, Steve much prefers this house when you’re in it. There’s a warmth that comes with your presence that makes him ache when it’s not around.
You nod, “Thank you again for letting me stay, Steve. I won’t be in the way, promise.”
“I want you in the way. You know you’re always welcome. This is no different.” He shrugs, “Plus, it’ll be nice having you around. Place always feels so empty when it’s just me.”
“Maybe I’ll just stay forever, then,” you say, tone light and joking.
Steve, completely serious, says, “I’d let you.”
There’s a zip that goes through you when he says it, quick as lightning, something you’ve never felt—or noticed, rather—around him. It throws you off just a little.
“Anyways,” Steve cuts your thoughts short, “I’ll let you get settled. Pizza will be waiting for you when you’re done.”
He leaves the room before you can thank him again, his footsteps retreating and heading downstairs.
You’ve been to his house a million times, so you don’t really feel the need to ‘get settled’ but you desperately need a shower so that’s where you go.
You stay in for longer than you need to, letting the too-hot water run down your neck and back.
When you finally do step out of the bathroom, now clad in your pajamas, and head downstairs, Steve’s sitting on the couch in the living room, the romcoms he owns sitting out in front of the TV for you to choose from, your favorite blanket resting on your side of the couch, and pizza boxes on the coffee table just as promised.
It’s the best thing in the world, you think, to have a friend like Steve.
-
You’ve been staying at Steve’s for a couple of days already, and time seems to fly by a little quicker when you’re there, especially when you’re around him.
He’s taken it upon himself to have coffee ready in the pot for you every morning, one of your favorite mugs already next to it on the counter. You’ve cooked breakfasts together (pancakes one day, where you’d done most of the work, or something simple as toast when you both have to get to work), ordered dinners, and Steve comes home from his shifts with a new movie to watch almost every day.
It’s been so nice. Almost perfect, actually.
This morning, the first day where your shifts happen to be at the exact same time, he’d even insisted on driving you to work. It was an easy yes, considering it wasn’t out of his way at all.
After a short stint of working together at the grocery store in ninth grade, and your subsequent firing from the job after a month of constantly distracting each other on the clock, Tim, the grocery manager, took it upon himself to warn Hawkins not to hire the both of you together.
Eventually, you’d taken the closest you could get which resulted in you working at the arcade and Steve next door at Family Video.
You share a parking lot. Steve already drives you to work most days. You like to put up a bit of a fight just to annoy him.
Though you haven’t worked together in years, and he isn’t far away by any means, you miss having Steve around on days like this. Where the arcade is quiet save for the sounds of the games in the background, where you’re simply babysitting the desk and cleaning things multiple times to try and make the hours pass by.
If Steve were with you, he’d make stupid jokes that you don’t wanna laugh at but do, or coerce you into playing the games while on the clock with the change you find whenever you’re cleaning.
He’d probably trash talk you, and bump your hip with his while playing pinball, and be a sore loser, and for some reason you want him around so bad.
You chalk it up to getting used to spending hours and hours with him, every single day, these past couple of days. Staying with him has made you miss him more, you think.
That’s it.
Meanwhile, over at Family Video, Steve isn’t feeling too different from you.
He’s spent the morning stocking shelves, memories popping into his head whenever he’d come across a movie you loved or watched together, while Robin’s been manning the desk.
Then, when his cart was empty and put back into the back room, he sat on the chair behind the front desk, spinning around until Robin stopped him with her foot and asked what he was thinking so hard about.
Steve caught her up on what had happened with your apartment (you’d told him he could tell her, because she’s your friend too and would find out sooner or later) and how you’d ended up staying with him in his house.
She raised her eyebrows and hummed in a way that was automatically suspicious, because Robin isn’t very good at hiding things.
“What?” Steve asks.
“Nothing.” When Steve only gives her a pointed look, Robin continues, “Well… are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Now, Robin is one of Steve’s closest friends, and him one of hers, and she supports him in pretty much everything that he does even when she teases him relentlessly along the way, but she cares about both of you and doesn’t want to see anyone hurt.
She can read Steve better than he can read himself, probably, because to Robin, it’s clear that he feels more than friendly towards you. And he doesn’t even know it.
When they became closer, it was clear to Robin, even before meeting you, just from the way Steve spoke of you, that there was a spot reserved for you in his life that couldn’t be filled by anyone else.
He would say it’s that of ‘best friend’ but Robin would call it something even bigger than that. Still, even though she thinks he’s an absolute dingus, she’s trying to let Steve figure it out for himself.
Clearly, it’s taking fucking forever.
He looks confused at her question, “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”
Robin sighs and resists the urge to drop her forehead against the desk and decides on, “You know what they say: become friends with your roommates, don’t become roommates with your friends.”
“Whoever they are, they’re dumb as shit,” Steve says. “She’s been over, slept over, hundreds of times. It’s not any different, just longer.”
“I guess so,” she settles on. “The rules of the world never really seem to apply to you two.”
“That’s because the rules of the world are also dumb as shit.”
“How would you know? It’s not like you’ve ever tried following them.”
“‘Cause I’m a rule breaker, Robs.”
Steve wiggles his eyebrows. Robin shoves the rolling chair he’s sitting on with her foot, sending it into the other side of the desk with a thud.
“Don’t think that smoking weed in your backyard is enough to call yourself a rule breaker, dingus.”
-
That night, your routine was pretty much the same.
Steve was already waiting for you in his car when you left the arcade, a smile spreading onto his face when he saw you making your way across the parking lot to him, your skirt swishing a little with the breeze.
Rather than go straight home, you made a stop at your apartment to talk things over with the couple who owned the home. They’d met with a builder and plumber about getting everything fixed and wanted to walk you through it all.
Steve came with you and held your hand, and both of them cooed at him and pinched his cheeks and called him a cutie before getting to the important stuff.
After going over what had to be done (rip out the carpet, replace it, fix the pipes and make sure no others were at risk, replace the ceiling, and more you couldn’t even remember already), they’d assured you that they would be taking care of it all. Covering the entire cost.
You probably would’ve argued if not for how little money was in your bank account, and how stubborn you knew these people to be. Instead, you’d squeezed them both and thanked them while your eyes grew misty with tears.
Steve’s hand stayed in yours and squeezed when you sniffled.
He knew, because he knew pretty much everything about you, that these people were kinder to you than even your own parents. That, if this had happened at their house, they would’ve found a way to blame you for it.
You feel lucky to have found that kind of parental love elsewhere, sad that you didn’t know exactly what it felt like beforehand.
After giving the couple Steve’s phone number to call in case they needed you and giving them both another hug, you and Steve headed back home.
Home, you call it. Like it’s yours.
Sometimes it feels like it is.
Later, after you and Steve have both showered and had dinner and gotten comfy in your sweats, you’re back in the living room, Steve shows you the movie he’s brought back this time.
“Gremlins?” You ask, smiling and shaking your head.
“Hell yeah, angel. It’s a classic.”
Steve sets everything up, joining you on the couch after pressing ‘play’ on the movie and adjusting the volume with your guidance.
“So, how was work?” Steve asks during the opening credits. The two of you have a hard time being next to each other and not talking. It’s why you get dirty looks whenever you go to the movies.
“Weekdays are so boring, Steve,” you say, letting your head fall against the back of the couch. “You’re so lucky you have Robin to entertain you during the day. I think I dusted like, ten times at least.”
“Robin is a pain in my ass.” He says. He doesn’t really mean it, because even when she is, he’s glad to have her around. A different kind of gladness than he feels with you. “She kept pushing me every time I sat in the rolling chair. There’s probably a dent in the desk.”
“That’s because you were probably hogging the chair, Steve.”
“What the fuck!” Steve’s smiling when he says it, lacking any sort of anger. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Your smile mirrors his, the way it always does. It’s contagious, you think, the way his eyes crinkle at the corner.
Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know, I’d wanna push you around on that chair too, I think.”
“You’d spin me too much. I’d get sick all over you and then nobody’s happy.”
“Don’t talk about barf while I’m eating, Harrington.”
You throw a piece of popcorn at him. It bounces off his cheek and lands on his lap, and he doesn’t even flinch. Steve just picks it up and pops it into his mouth.
When the bowl’s empty, you lean forward and set it on the coffee table before sinking back into the couch, Steve's shoulder brushing yours. You let the warmth seep through your clothes and shut your eyes.
It’s a little more than halfway through the movie when Steve realizes you’re asleep. You’d been quiet, sure, but Steve only thought that meant you were paying attention to the movie.
That was, until your head slipped and rested against his shoulder.
He looked down at you, at the hair falling across your forehead (he smoothed it away gently, so it wouldn’t be in your eyes or your mouth), your eyebrows relaxed and free of any worry, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths.
He thinks of how tired you must be, after everything. Your apartment and dealing with the aftermath both emotionally and physically, working long shifts most days to keep your bank account full.
Steve, though he doesn’t let himself look too deep into it, also thinks of how beautiful you are. Now and always.
Not wanting you to get a kink in your neck from the position, Steve decides to rouse you from sleep as gently as possible. He slips a hand under your head to keep it steady and maneuvers himself to kneel in front of you.
“Hey, angel,” he almost whispers, thumb dragging across your cheek. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
Your nose scrunches and you grumble, but after some coaxing, you blink your eyes open and squint at Steve. You blame your half-asleep mind on the way you nuzzle into his palm. “Hmm?”
“You fell asleep.”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumble.
Steve laughs softly. “Don’t be sorry, I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
The warmth of his hand leaves your cheek as he stands and holds his hands out for you to grab. He pulls you up off the couch and starts leading you towards the stairs.
You knuckle at your eyes on the way, a tiny smile gracing your face at how sweet Steve’s being. As if you haven’t fallen asleep on his couch plenty of times before.
Still sleepy, you stumble a little on the stairs, but Steve catches you easily with an arm around your waist and a small “Careful.”
He leaves his arm there the rest of the way to what’s become your bedroom, guiding you over to the bed and lifting the covers for you.
Tomorrow, you’ll regret not brushing your teeth or washing your face before climbing in bed. But today, you don’t feel like risking not being able to sleep again if you wake yourself up further.
You’re practically asleep again by the time you’re settled with your head on the pillow as Steve tugs the blankets over you.
You’re just awake enough to feel the light press of his lips on your forehead and a soft “Goodnight, angel” against your skin before he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.
-
On a random Thursday that you and Steve both have off, he convinces you to let him take you to the mall.
“We should go shopping,” he says when you walk into the kitchen. It’s a little later in the morning, having slept in since it’s a day off, the sun slipping through the window in warm beams.
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Like, groceries?”
“No, like shopping shopping. You know, the mall?”
You lean against the kitchen island, the countertop cool on your back where it touches the sliver of skin between your tank top and sleep shorts. Steve has his shoulder against the fridge, his arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his muscles. Not that you’re looking.
You squint at him, trying to find his motive on his face. “You literally buy whatever the mannequins are wearing to avoid shopping.”
“That’s what they’re there for!” The sass in his voice has you biting back a smile. “You need new clothes,” he continues, “and I need to get out of this house.”
“We can do something else, Steve,” you say. “I thought you hated shopping.”
“Well, I don’t hate you.” There’s a pause, Steve’s eyes lowering to that sliver of skin above your shorts. He flicks them back to your face quickly, hoping you didn’t notice, because even he’s not sure what compelled his eyes to wander. “Plus, Eddie called me a hermit the other day and I really can’t stand for that, can I?”
“Ohhh,” you ignore the way your skin suddenly feels warm beneath his gaze, “so you need to make a public appearance to prove Eddie wrong?”
“Exactly. We’ll replace some of the things you lost and restore my reputation. Two birds, one stone, right angel?”
So that’s how you’d ended up at the mall. After Starcourt burnt down, the closest place was a couple towns over, and Steve (as always) offered to drive.
He lets you pick the music the entire way, sings along when you hold your water bottle by his mouth like a microphone, even attempts to harmonize with you which just ends in laughter because neither of you sounded that great.
You’re a couple of stores in, and Steve’s been complaint-free so far—which makes sense, since this was his idea, but you’ve caught him side-eyeing some things, so you know he’s got some remarks in his head he just hasn’t said out loud—and follows you around as you browse. You try not to take too long, because you can’t imagine that this is any fun for him.
“How about that one?” Steve asks, pointing at one of the dresses hanging along the store’s wall.
He’d seen your apartment, though that was a bit ago, and he remembered what you’d lost the most of, along with the type of stuff you like. He pays attention like that, in small, quiet ways that you think mean the most.
He knows you. He cares enough to know you.
“Yeah, that’s really pretty, actually,” you admit.
At your approval, Steve grabs one in your size (which he also just happens to know) and adds it to the couple of things he’d already been holding for you. Every time you picked something up, he was quick to snatch it from you, telling you it was ‘too hard to browse with your hands full.’
After making your way through the rest of the store, you decided to head back to try things on, holding out a hand for the stuff Steve’s holding. “You can wait out here, I’ll be quick.”
“Hold on,” he says, holding the hangers out of your reach. “Why do you think I’m here, angel? I wanna help you pick.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. Give me a fashion show, yeah?”
“Oh my God,” you mumble, letting him follow you to the fitting rooms.
They’re hidden behind the back wall of the store, a hallway painted bright blue with pink changeroom doors on one side, and white benches along the other.
“Hi there,” an employee with auburn hair greets you both, her smile wide and kind, though you know it’s a practiced one. Customer service smile. “How many you got there, darling?”
“Oh, um,” you turn back towards Steve, who’s counting the hangers in his hand. “Five.”
“Perfect!” The girl takes the key hanging around her neck and unlocks one of the rooms for you. She takes the clothes from Steve and hangs them up inside for you, then turns to the two of you and says, “Your man can have a seat right here. We call them the ‘boyfriend benches.’”
“He’s not my-”
“Thanks,” Steve says, cutting off your correction because for some reason he didn’t want you to correct her.
Did he… like the idea of being your boyfriend?
Fuck. No. He just didn’t want you to have to explain the whole situation in your rambly way. That’s all.
The redhead smiles again, “Holler if you need anything,” she says before walking off.
You stand there for a second, something like confusion on your face. Did it look like you were boyfriend and girlfriend?
“Come on,” Steve says, snapping the both of you out of whatever that was. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“I can't believe you’re making me do this,” you say, walking into the fitting room and shutting the door.
You try on a couple of sweaters first, and Steve feels the fabric both times, making sure that it’s not scratchy on your skin. Then, there’s just some basic t-shirts that aren’t all that exciting, but Steve says they look nice anyway.
Finally, you get to the dress he picked out.
It really was pretty. A midi-length with a ruffled hem and straps that tie into little bows on your shoulders. You don’t always feel good in your clothes. Sometimes you wish you could crawl out of your skin when you look into the mirror, but right now, you don’t hate what you see.
You actually like it.
“Well?” Steve calls softly from the bench.
In response, you open the door and step out so he can see you.
Steve’s seen you in plenty of dresses—hell, you went to prom together—but for some reason this one makes his heart beat just a little bit quicker. Maybe it’s simply the fact that it looks great on you, or the way you’re smiling shyly as he looks you over.
Or, maybe it’s because he’s the one who picked it.
He stands up, spinning his finger in the air in a gesture for you to twirl. You roll your eyes but do it anyway, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. The hallway of fitting rooms isn’t very big, so with both of you in it, you’re standing toe to toe, the gold flecks in the middle of Steve’s eyes and the faint freckles that dot his nose are visible from where you stand.
As if he can’t help it, Steve lifts a finger and dips it beneath the strap on your shoulder. Not moving it or undoing it, just gliding along your skin where it sits.
“You look beautiful,” he says. His voice goes all quiet and soft when he says it, and his eyes widen a tiny bit, like he hadn’t meant it to slip out that way. It sounded… more than friendly. He clears his throat and steps back as much as he can in the small space, his finger leaving your skin. “I have great taste. Clearly.”
You blink at him, then shake yourself out of it as much as you can. “Yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” You lift the tag where it hangs by your armpit and look at the price. You gasp and swat Steve’s arm. “Steve! Why would you let me walk into a place so expensive?”
You probably should’ve looked at the tag beforehand, but here you are. Steve, shrugging exaggeratedly, says, “I didn’t know!”
“Okay, I’m gonna change before she comes back. We can make a run for it.”
“We’re not stealing.”
“I know, but they look at you all judgemental when you try stuff on and don’t buy something. Trust me.”
You turn and go back into the fitting room to put on your own clothes, taking a look at the dress in the mirror one last time before shaking your head at yourself.
Steve, however, takes the opportunity to leave you and head back out into the store. He finds the dress easily and grabs another one in your size from the rack and heads to the cashier.
He’s just finishing up, bag in hand, when you walk out and meet him at the front of the store.
“For you,” he says, holding out the bag for you to take.
“Steve…” You grab it and look inside. Your chest aches when you see the dress, your heart suddenly too full and your stomach fluttering stupidly. “You didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine with something from the Gap.”
“I know that,” he says, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck. It’s a nervous tick of his, and the thought of him being nervous right now makes you melt even more. “I wanted to get it for you. You looked too pretty in it not to have it.”
Your eyes catch his, and again, something passes between you that you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. A fizzle, a spark.
You rock back on your feet, looking down at the ground before meeting his eyes again. They’re so fucking soft it makes you wonder how lucky you have to be to have him in your life. Being your best friend, driving you to work even when he doesn’t have a shift, offering you a place to stay, buying you a dress.
He’s the sweetest boy you’ve ever known.
“Well,” you twist the straps of the bag around your fingers just to keep them busy. “Thank you, Steve. This is really nice.”
His knuckle traces down your arm just once, featherlight. “You’re welcome, angel.”
You don’t buy anything else after that, instead stopping at the food court for fries, stealing from each other’s baskets, smiling and slapping hands away.
It’s the best day you’ve had in a while.
-
You don’t think anything you do will convey just how grateful you are that Steve has been so kind to you. Always, but especially now. Letting you stay with him and refusing to let you pay rent. (“I don’t even pay rent, and I live here all the time.”)
But, this morning, you’ve decided you’re gonna try.
Steve’s favorite meal of the day happens to be breakfast, which is funny, considering he usually eats something as simple as cereal. He’d told you once that it was because, as a kid, breakfast was the most peaceful of meals, his parents too busy getting ready for work or wherever they were going that he’d have the kitchen table to himself.
Lunch was usually spent at school, and Steve was never a fan of school to begin with. Then there was dinner, which his parents (when they were home) still wanted to have all together. They’d ask him questions and make backhanded comments about every single answer he gave. He never won at dinner.
So, breakfast was, and has remained, his favorite.
You made sure to get up early enough to give yourself time to get everything ready before he wakes up. Steve’s usually the one making the coffee in the morning, and you figured the least you could do was give him a break.
Yesterday, while Steve had been at work, you went over to the Wheeler’s and asked Nancy if you could borrow their waffle maker. She’d directed the question to her mother, who went and grabbed it for you and handed it over with a smile. You promised to take good care of it and have it back in a couple of days.
By the time Steve walks into the kitchen, you’ve already made the batter and set out the toppings—berries, maple syrup, whipped cream—like a buffet. However, he just so happens to come in as you’re swearing at the waffle maker.
“Stupid fucking thing,” you mutter, trying to open it.
Steve smiles to himself before saying, “Morning, angel.”
You jump at his voice, not having heard him walk in. When you turn around, your heart beats for a different reason.
Steve’s still only in his pajama pants, plaid and soft, hanging low on his hips. And he’s shirtless, his chest smattered with hair and his skin a little tanned from the sun. He’s got beauty marks all over, like a constellation you could chart, and his abs are just visible beneath the soft of his stomach. A trail of hair leading to the waistband of his pants and disappearing beneath them.
You’ve seen Steve shirtless plenty of times. Swimming and sleeping over in the summer, in high school when you used to go to his practices, but it hits you harder for some reason this time.
The way his hair is still a mess from sleep, his eyes a bit heavy. The way it feels to be greeting him in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Intimate. Domestic.
You clear your throat and turn back around to pry the waffle maker open, revealing a slightly burnt but otherwise good-looking waffle. “I’m making breakfast. Coffee’s already in the pot, too.”
He walks over, his chest close to your back as he grabs a mug from the cabinet above you before heading over to pour himself a cup. He looks at the spread you’ve prepared, “Waffles, huh? What did I do to deserve all this?”
“Just wanted to do something nice for you,” you say as Steve walks over to lean against the counter next to you, his hip barely touching yours. “To thank you, in a way. For letting me stay and the dress and-”
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me?” He says, though his voice is soft and still a bit rough from sleep. “I like having you around.”
“So you don’t want the waffles then?”
“Oh, I want the waffles. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything for me. It’s not some debt you’ll owe me, angel.”
“Want you to know I appreciate you is all,” you say, pouring a new scoop of batter into the waffle maker.
Steve, unsure of what exactly possesses him to do so, dips in and presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek, his lips a whisper away from your skin when he says, “I appreciate you, too.”
Then he pulls away and moves to set the table. Like it was natural.
And it was, in a way. How you moved around each other in the kitchen. You leaning out of the way when he needed to reach something you were blocking, him putting a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you so you knew he was there.
Your cheek still tingles from where he’d kissed it when you bring the plate of waffles to the table, your skin somehow even warmer under his gaze, like he’s still remembering exactly how it felt, too.
You sit in the chair beside Steve, not noticing the way he tugs it a bit closer to him with his foot before you sit down. Soon enough, both of you are digging in. Steve’s got more whipped cream on his plate than waffle (you tell him as much) and you’ve got your berries on the side the way you always do.
Neither of you work until later in the day, and it’s nice knowing that you can take your time. Steve tells you about the advice he gave Dustin about how to be ‘cooler’ in school (he’d told him that being cool is completely overrated, he knew from experience, and that being himself is the most important). You’d told him he was going soft with age.
You talk about anything at all. How Keith somehow manages both of your places of work, how he also somehow does both terribly. The way he says ‘if you have time to lean, you have time to clean’ while literally having Cheeto dust on his fingers. Laughing at each other’s impressions of him.
What the new highscores were at the arcade, what people were renting from Family Video.
You wonder what it’ll be like when you have to leave. When you’re living alone again.
Logically, you know you’ll still see Steve frequently, because he’s your favorite person and you can’t remember the last time you went longer than a few days without hanging out. Still, it’ll be different than right now, waking up in the same space and sharing breakfast and brushing your teeth side by side in the mirror.
You’ll miss it, you think.
Trying not to dwell on something that’s still a few weeks away, you take another bite of your waffle. Steve catches your chin and wipes off a bit of whipped cream from the corner of your mouth, then pulling away and sucking it off his thumb.
He goes back to his own plate without a thought. Like touching you just now was an instinct.
Then, he teases you, “These are a little crispy, angel. Maybe you should stick to letting me make breakfast in this household.”
You kick his leg under the table. “That’s a funny way of saying ‘thank you,’ Harrington.”
He kicks you back, much gentler than you’d been. “Thank you.”
“That’s what I thought.”
When you look at him, there’s an easy, boyish smile on his face.
A similar one stretches across your own lips.
-
Steve has had the thought pop up into his head a couple of times, that maybe he should’ve just asked you to live with him before you ever bought that apartment. Because having you around feels the most right things have ever felt in his house.
And though the circumstances of your moving in with him (temporarily, he has to remind himself), were far from ideal, he can’t lie and say that he isn’t glad that you’ve ended up sharing his space.
The room across the hall will always be yours, even when you move back to your place.
He knows that you feel indebted to him for all of it, but if anyone owes the other something, he feels like it’s him. For everything you’ve ever done for him. Sticking around even when he was an asshole in highschool, defending him to his parents whenever you’d cross paths, simply being the kind of friend he needed.
Even when you’re not around, he can picture your face, the way your smile spreads slowly until you’re fucking beaming. Worse, the way you cried into his chest that day at your apartment.
He remembers the crack in your voice when you spoke about that picture frame from summer camp. Though he hasn’t seen you cry since, or even bring it up, he’s decided he wants to fix it. He’d told you he would.
Dustin wound up roped into his plan: find a similar frame, decorate it the exact same way, and scour the photo albums in Steve’s room for his copy of that same picture.
When he was younger, the photo albums pissed him off, because they were purely for show. Pictures of his family that were all fake smiles. Now, he’s glad for them, because at least he has some good memories to look back on. To know it wasn’t always all bad.
Steve probably should’ve thought that one through, because when they looked through his albums, he was on the receiving end of relentless teasing from Dustin. (“Dude, you have an insane boogie in this picture.” “I was four!”)
He hopes it’ll be worth it.
Dustin was the one who found the picture they’d been looking for, and he cheered and waved it in Steve’s face as if they’d been racing.
Now, after driving Dustin back home, decorating the frame the way the two of you did as kids, trying to make his handwriting look like it did back then (which wasn’t too difficult, ‘cause Steve’s writing still isn’t that neat), he’s waiting for you to come downstairs before giving it to you.
He’d picked you up after your shift at the arcade not too long ago, but he knows you like to shower and change as soon as you get home from work, so he’d taken the opportunity to wrap the frame and have it ready for you.
Steve can hear you singing in the shower, and he knows you’re done when it goes quiet. A few minutes later you’re walking down the stairs in a baggy t-shirt and silky sleep shorts.
His eyes, for some reason, linger on your legs for a second.
He stands up, frame in his hand, when you walk over. “I have something for you.”
“Steve! Stop buying me things. Seriously.”
“This thing was free, so you can’t even be mad,” he says, smiling almost sheepishly.
Your eyes search his face, flickering between his own and dipping down to his lips and his nose and back to his eyes. He looks… nervous.
Steve’s never nervous around you.
“Okay,” you say, shuffling on your feet. “What is it?”
“Here,” he hands you the poorly-wrapped frame. “Open it.”
You scrunch your brows at him once, because you have no idea what it could be. It isn’t your birthday, or any sort of holiday at all. With zero guesses, you look down at the light yellow wrapping paper in your hands and slowly tear it open.
What you find makes your eyes grow misty, tears pooling at your lash line but not quite falling.
It’s your favorite picture, the one of you and Steve in those stupid neon shirts with messy hair and dirt on your hands. Only now, it’s not water damaged, and the frame is new, but decorated just like the old one. You run your thumbs over the glass lightly, smiling down at little you and little Steve.
When you look back up at him, he’s already looking at you, his brown eyes all warm, his smile kind but also worried, waiting for your reaction.
Seeing his face springs you into motion, jumping forward and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly with the frame still in your hand. “Thank you,” you say into his skin.
Steve’s arms move to hold you around your waist without a thought. A reflex. They squeeze you close to him, his nose pressed into your damp hair, smelling your shampoo.
“It’s not perfect,” he says. “But I know how much you love that picture, and I wanted to fix it.”
“Steve. Shut up. It is perfect.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he says, his thumbs running back and forth against your back.
You hug for what could’ve been minutes, but neither of you moves to pull away first. You’re not sure if it’s still considered friendly to stand in each other's arms, breathing each other in, for so long, but you don’t care at the moment.
This is probably the nicest thing anyone’s done for you in a long, long time.
When you finally do pull away, you don’t go far. Your arms stay slung over his shoulders, Steve’s hands framing your hips. His thumbs still dragging those sweet patterns against you.
“I’m keeping it forever,” you tell him.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Certain. You’ll always be my best friend, Steve.”
“You’ll always be mine too, angel.”
Then, your eyes both move to each other’s lips, yours flick back up in a second, startled at their wandering.
Steve, however, is a bit transfixed. He looks at the slope of your cupid’s bow, the way your lips are shiny from your lip balm. He thinks it quickly, like a gust of wind that can’t be stopped: I really wanna kiss her right now.
Fuck. He wants to kiss his best friend.
He blinks a few times, clearing his throat and pulling back, letting his hands fall from your waist as yours slide off his shoulders. He misses the feel of your touch immediately, but he’s too freaked out and confused to do anything about it.
“What are you in the mood for tonight?” he asks, cutting off his own thoughts. “I brought back a horror and a comedy. Take your pick.”
“Mmm,” he picks up two tapes from the coffee table and holds them up for you to choose from. “Horror. Unless you’re too scared?”
“You’ll just have to hold my hand, then, won’t you?”
“I guess I will.”
You look back at the picture while Steve puts the movie into the player. You smile at it every time you see it, because you can still see parts of Steve in him now that were in him then.
His eyes, always kind, the way he smiles when he laughs, and about a half hour into the movie, the way he holds your hand and squeezes it when he’s scared.
-
You’re having one of those nights. The kind where sleep seems to be fighting you.
You worked a closing shift at the arcade, which usually lasts until late considering how long you’re open plus all of the cleaning you have to do afterwards. Today was no different, and despite how much later you finish than him at Family Video, Steve waited and drove you home. He hung out in the arcade with you until close, actually.
You’d think that after such a long day, the second your head hit the pillow you’d be out and breathing steadily. Today, that is not the case. You fell asleep for maybe an hour before a nightmare woke you up. You can’t quite remember what happened, only that you’d been yelling for Steve and he wasn’t there.
Groaning quietly, you rub your eyes and toss the blankets away. You stand up and head down to the kitchen in the dark, hand trailing along the walls to make sure you don’t bump into anything.
Just as you’re pouring yourself a glass of water, you hear the shuffle of sleepy footsteps coming into the kitchen.
“Holy shit,” he says, walking over to grab a glass, one hand on his bare chest. “I thought you were a ghost or something just now.”
You shift out of the way to let him get some water just like you did, taking the second that he’s distracted to look at him. His hair a mess, wearing nothing but his boxers. You take a big sip from your glass.
“I feel like I should be offended right now,” you say, “if you think I look like a ghost.”
“Shut up,” he says, dragging out the second word. His voice being rough from sleep makes his words sound much warmer than they are. “My eyes aren’t awake yet. Nothing to do with you, angel.”
You shake your head, though there’s a soft smile on your face the way there always seems to be when you try to be annoyed with Steve. You tilt your head at him, asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”
He shakes his head. “Been tossing and turning. Just can’t get comfortable, then I got pissed ‘cause I couldn’t get comfortable and only made it worse.”
“You would get pissed at that. Probably slapped your pillow like it was at fault.”
He folds his lips inwards and blinks at you. Because he did smack his pillow and call it a dipshit. “Why do you know everything? Spying on me?”
“Hate to say it, but you’re getting predictable, Harrington.” You shrug, then move to put your now empty glass in the dishwasher. “I know you too well.”
He looks at you, your hair falling across your shoulders, your pajama shorts riding up a little as you bend down. The moonlight slipping through the window seems to hit you perfectly. Like a halo.
Fitting, he thinks. You’re his angel, after all.
“Yeah, you do,” he agrees. Then, “What about you? Why’re you up?”
“Nightmare. Been forever since I had one.”
“You okay?” he asks, trailing a knuckle over your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it.
“Yeah,” you say, skin tingling where he’d touched you. “I can't even remember most of it, but now my brain won’t let me sleep.”
Steve wishes he could’ve protected you from whatever haunted you in your sleep. It’s silly, he knows, to think he might be able to ward away anything that hurts you, but he wants to, nonetheless.
He thinks about how comfortable he is whenever you cuddle during movie night. Your head on his shoulder or his chest, his hand on your back or waist.
So, he blurts, “Why don’t you sleep over?”
You furrow your brows at him, “Um, I’ve been sleeping over. A couple of weeks now, actually.”
“No, I mean, like in my room with me,” he says, suddenly shy at the idea. He’s grateful for the darkness, because he can feel his cheeks warming up. “A proper sleepover.”
You’ve done it before. Shared a bed a bunch of times, but for some reason your heart jumps when he says it. Your stomach swirls as you say, maybe a little too quickly, “Okay.”
Steve’s eyes widen like he’s surprised, just for a split second, before a soft smile takes over his face. He holds out a hand for you to take, “C’mon.”
Soon enough, Steve’s lifting his navy bedspread for you, letting you slip into bed next to him. He stays further away at first, letting you settle and lay on your side the way he knows you always do.
You blame sleepiness—or, maybe, the lack thereof—for the way you reach behind you for his arm and tug him closer, draping it over your own waist.
He obliges, of course, his arm securing itself across your stomach, palm spread out and warm against your sleep shirt. His chest is only a breath away from your back, though he keeps his lower half a little more distanced.
His thumb runs circles over your shirt, once, twice, three times before stilling, his forehead pressing to the back of your neck.
“Goodnight, angel,” he says into your hair.
Your hand splays itself on top of his. “Night, Steve.”
And suddenly your eyes grow heavier, and sleep doesn’t feel like much of a battle anymore.
-
You wake up the most rested you’ve felt in a while. There’s warmth surrounding you, but not the uncomfortable kind. The kind that feels safe.
Somehow, you and Steve are even closer than you’d been when you fell asleep. His arm is still around your waist, his other outstretched and tucked beneath your head like a pillow. His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel it expand with every breath he takes.
Most differently of all, however, is the way his hips are snug against the curve of your butt. And you can feel him hard against you.
Your skin feels even warmer than before when you notice.
Steve hasn’t woken up yet, you don’t think, because the faintest snores are getting puffed out against your shoulder where his face is tucked. His hand on your stomach has worked its way beneath your shirt, though, and his fingertips press against your skin, like he’s fighting to keep you close.
As if you’d go anywhere even in your sleep.
His knee is tucked between your legs, and you’re quickly realizing that it’d be pretty impossible to get out of bed without him noticing. You’re completely tangled together, a knot of limbs somehow fitting together just right. Like two puzzle pieces.
In his sleep, Steve’s mouth presses against the back of your shoulder, and only when you involuntarily shiver at the contact, does he stir.
It takes Steve a bit to really wake up, mumbling words that don’t make sense, scrunching his eyes shut even further before blinking them open. He’s met with the sight of you right in front of him. Body curved perfectly against his.
“Steve? You awake?” you ask, checking.
“Mhm,” he hums.
Then, something that has his cheeks flushing pink, he registers the feeling of his boner pressed against your ass. He shuffles them back enough so there’s space between you. “Fuck. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you say. Because he can’t control the way his body reacts while he’s asleep.
“I didn’t think-” he cuts himself off, because he’s not quite sure how to say I didn’t think about the whole morning wood factor or that I’d fucking plaster myself to you when I suggested a sleepover without sounding stupid. Instead, he just repeats, “I’m sorry.”
You twist yourself around to face him, sheets crumpling and twisting as you move. When you settle back onto the pillow and look at his face, at the redness on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, you squeeze his hand that’s now laying between you.
“It’s okay, really,” you say. “It’s, like, anatomy. You’re human, Steve.”
“I don’t want you to think I invited you to sleep in here for some pervy reason,” he says, scrunching his nose when he says it.
“I don’t think that at all,” you tell him. You squeeze his hand again. “We’ve shared a bed like, a hundred times by now. If anything I’m surprised this hasn’t happened already.”
“Oh my God,” he groans, shutting his eyes and pushing his face into the pillow.
“Steve,” you drag out his name, fighting a giggle at the way he’s acting. He’s got a reputation, after all, and how shy and embarrassed he seems to be doesn’t reflect the things you heard about him in high school. He’s changed a lot since then. “It’s seriously fine. We can pretend it never happened. Promise.”
Steve pulls his face from the pillow, eyes catching yours as his fingers squeeze yours back in appreciation. He lets his eyes wander a bit, at the messy bits of your hair around your face from sleeping, the marks in your cheek from the pillowcase, the way your sleep shirt has fallen off your shoulder.
He feels lucky to get to see you this way, right after you’ve woken up. Vulnerable, unguarded, beautiful.
It’s during this small stretch of silence that you realize how close your faces are now. You’re sharing a pillow, his nose not even an inch from yours. Shift forward the slightest bit, and they’d be touching. Your eyes trail down to his mouth, to the visible patch of chest hair and the freckles that dot his skin. He’s already looking right at you when your eyes flick back upwards.
You know Steve, could tell what he’s feeling just from the look on his face, but this is one you’ve never seen before. At least, not directed at you.
Steve moves first, his eyes a little darker than usual, shifting forward slightly, then looking at you. Daring you to make the next move.
“What if we didn’t forget about it?” he says. Quiet and scratchy.
You don’t have time to think before you move forward a bit, too. Your noses brush. “What would that mean?”
Steve doesn’t answer with words. Rather, he moves forward the final bit and brushes his lips against yours in a question mark of a kiss, giving you time to pull away.
You don’t.
Instead, the hand of yours that isn’t still holding his comes up to the back of his neck, gently encouraging him to do it again. His free hand tightens at your waist as he dips in a second time.
It isn’t as tentative now that you’ve urged him on. His lips meet yours more sure, more firm, but still soft against you. Neither of you cares one bit about morning breath, or about what this might change. As if the morning’s haze slows time, minds still a little sleepy.
You’re simply acting on instinct. And this feels too right to stop.
Soon enough it grows more heated, Steve shifting to hover over you, his elbows pushing into the mattress to hold himself up, his tongue sneaking out to lick against the seam of your lips for permission.
Just as you open up for him, the blaring sound of Steve's alarm cuts you off, pulling back with a gasp. He simply leans up on one arm and slams the snooze button—and you laugh, you laugh, at how hard he hits it—before diving back into you.
You feel hot all over, where one of Steve’s hands has moved to cup your jaw, his thumb running delicately against your face as his mouth moves against yours, practically devouring you. Where the blankets are still over your lower halves, trapping in heat. When he pulls back, looks into your eyes, fucking smiles all dopey and pretty, and then kisses you again.
It’s so good, you’re almost angry at yourself for not kissing him sooner.
You kiss until his alarm goes off again and Steve's forced to pry himself away from you, groaning about being on his ‘last tardy warning’ from Keith.
Still, he takes the time to kiss your forehead on his way out, Family Video vest slung over his shoulder, calling a sweet, “bye, angel,” on his way out. His hair’s still a mess from your fingers, and he doesn’t even seem to mind.
You stay in his bed longer than you probably should, blinking up at the ceiling, fingers pressed against your lips like you’re searching for physical proof that everything was real.
What the fuck just happened?
-
It’s been a couple of weeks, and Steve can’t stop thinking about that kiss. He doesn’t know it, but you can’t stop thinking about it either.
Neither of you have brought it up, and things have faded back to normal as if it had never happened. But you and Steve are both thinking the same things without knowing it. How good and natural and easy it felt, how, every now and then, you think about doing it again.
You talk and joke and watch movies and eat meals together the same way you always have, and it’d be so easy to stay that way, to never kiss again. But then, what if you could stay that way and kiss? Wouldn’t that be something close to perfect?
You lay awake thinking about it every few nights. Because, when you really reflect on your life and how intertwined it is with Steve’s, you realize that you’ve sort of always acted like a couple, minus the kissing and sex aspect. You go on what could easily be classified as dates—the movies, lunch or dinner—you cuddle on the couch almost nightly, and you’ve never shied away from physical touch with one another. Held hands, a palm on your back.
You haven’t brought it up with Steve because you haven’t even come to terms with it yourself. Feelings are so fucking confusing and messy and you’d like to have a better idea of what’s going on in your own head before asking him about his.
Meanwhile, Steve has allowed himself to come to terms with it. He’s in love with you.
He’s pretty sure he has been for a while. Months, maybe even years.
It hadn’t come easily, though. It was nights spent similarly to yours, running through interactions you’ve had and the way he felt that one time in senior year when you went on a date with some guy from your math class. Even then, a part of him felt wrong about it, that pit in his gut.
Then there were his shifts with Robin at Family Video where he’d practically spilled everything just to get her opinion. She looked up and sighed “thank you” before saying that it was nice of him to finally catch on.
Had he really been that obvious? All this time? And had he really been that oblivious to his own feelings?
Steve can’t answer those questions. He can’t say when his love for you changed from platonic to romantic, he just knows that it has and he doesn’t think he’ll ever come back from it.
You’re his best friend in the entire world, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and he can’t picture himself loving anyone but you so wholly.
He’s fucking terrified of losing you, but he’s also terrified of never telling you how he feels and testing that what if.
So, like a desperate idiot, he knocks on the door to Eddie’s trailer.
Eddie opens it after a minute and what sounded like him stubbing his toe, “oh, hey Harrington. More weed?”
“No, shut up. I need your help.”
“You,” Eddie points at Steve, then at himself, “need my help for something? Are you ill?”
“Okay,” Steve, dramatic and bitchy as usual, sighs and mutters something about this being a stupid idea and turns to leave.
“Come on,” Eddie laughs, “I’m just joking. What’s up?”
Soon enough, Steve’s sitting on Eddie’s couch, Eddie pacing in front of the coffee table like this is a very serious matter, and telling him pretty much everything. Your kiss, the train of thought it sparked.
“Basically I’m in love with her and I have no clue what to do,” Steve finishes, sinking back into the couch cushions. It squeaks as he shifts.
Eddie pauses, tugging at his bottom lip between his fingers, then looks at Steve and says, “You know I’ve never dated anyone in my life, right?”
Steve groans into his hands, “Why do all of my friends have to be losers with no dating lives.”
Eddie ignores that, because he can tell how affected Steve actually is by all of this. How much he cares. He walks over and sits down on the opposite end of the couch. “Have you ever thought of, I don’t know, telling her how you feel?”
Steve rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and letting his head hang for a moment before picking it up. “Of course I have, but I’m fuckin’ scared.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Um, she could reject me and not feel the same way and everything would be awkward because I ruined it and I’d lose my best friend in the entire world.”
“What if she does feel the same?” Eddie asks.
He’s both yours and Steve’s friend, he’s been around the both of you together. He’s seen the way you look at each other. Eddie might not be an expert, but it’s always looked a lot like love to him. He’s pretty sure the chances of you feeling the same are quite high.
“What do you mean?”
“What if she does feel the same and you never figure it out because you’re too afraid?” Eddie says. “Man, don’t you think that risk is worth taking?”
Steve thinks about it, and as much as he hates to admit it, Eddie’s right. He’d hate to always wonder, to lose out on the chance to really be with you when he knows it could be so good.
You are worth the risk to him.
“When the fuck did you become so wise, Munson?”
“Dunno,” Eddie shrugs. “Wanna smoke?”
Steve laughs, “Yes I do.”
-
With Steve gone at work and you off for the day, there’s been too much room for your thoughts to creep in. Too much silence.
You’ve already been thinking about things so much. Thinking about him so much, that in his absence, your mind seemed to work overtime to fill in the gaps.
You thought about the day he picked you up from your apartment, how quick he was to drop whatever he’d been doing and come over and help you and take you home with him. The day he took you shopping and bought you a dress because he thought you looked pretty in it, the way his fingers fiddled with the strap on your shoulder when you tried it on for him.
The day he gifted you a remade version of your favorite picture from summer camp because he knew how much it meant to you, the way you held on to each other afterwards.
How you’d been waiting for him to get home that night he went to Eddie’s, just to make sure he was okay. How when he came in, he smiled at the sight of you curled on the couch, and he kissed your cheek when he walked by like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Your brain knew he was high, you could smell the weed mingling with his cologne on his clothes when he leaned in close, but your heart didn’t care about that. It thumped in your chest the second he leaned in closer, even worse when his lips touched your cheek.
The realization hits you now like a shock, a quick zip of electricity running through your system. You fucking love him.
Sure, you’ve loved Steve practically your whole life, but this was different. You love him, love him. Like, you want to kiss him when he comes home from work and in the morning. You want him to introduce you as his girlfriend and to be able to call him your boyfriend.
You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner, because looking back on things now, knowing how you feel, you can see it written throughout your entire friendship. Holding hands and kissing foreheads and hands pushing hair away from faces.
For a second, you’re purely happy, because you get to be in love with your best friend and it feels as warm and sweet as sunlight. Then, the fear creeps in, and you’re scared. Scared of losing him, of making things weird, of change and doing the wrong thing.
So scared that you start to panic and pack up some of your things in your bag like you’re running away.
Truthfully, you’re not sure what else to do. You’ve never been in love before, you’ve never known it this way—so kind and unconditional. And your parents sure as hell didn’t set a good example for you. They’d fight, and someone would leave with the slam of a door, and then they’d be back and the cycle would continue.
You’re scared and confused and your instincts are telling you to run away even though the only place you really wanna be is with Steve. In his arms.
You’re stuffing clothes into your bag just to keep your hands busy, breathing hard and fast, when you hear the front door open and close. Steve’s quick to find you, his eyes scanning your room and then looking at you. “What are you doing?”
You feel like you might cry just looking at him. His brown eyes worried but warm as always, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s nervous.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until later,” you say, hoping he can’t hear the shake in your voice.
“It was dead, so Keith let me off early. I-” Steve furrows his brows, “are you leaving?”
You nod. “I’ve been in your way long enough.”
“I told you, you’re never in my way.” Steve knows you, and he loves you, and he can tell that there’s something going on. That you’re panicked and trying to get away from whatever it is. He cares too much to let that happen. “I want you to stay.”
You want to stay, too. You just don’t know what comes next, and that unknown, the lack of control, of familiarity, it makes your hands shake.
Your mind doesn’t work the same when you’re afraid.
“Give me one good reason why I should stay, Steve. I’ve been taking up your space for weeks and-”
“Because I love you.” Steve cuts you off. He hadn’t planned on telling you this way, he wanted it to be romantic and perfect but he can’t wait any longer. Especially not when you’re trying to run away. “I’m in love with you. And I want you here.”
You immediately stop in your tracks, blinking up at him like you’re not sure you’d heard him correctly. “You- what?”
“I love you. Romantically. And I think I have for a really long time.”
“You’re not high again, are you?” You ask, your eyes a little misty.
Steve walks over to you and grabs both of your hands in his, making sure you’re looking at him, at the sincerity written all over his face, when he says, “Completely sober. I fucking love you and I want you to keep living with me, because this house doesn’t really feel like home unless you’re in it.”
“What about when my apartment is ready?”
He squeezes your hands. “Stay then, too. Stay forever.”
You look up at him, his hair falling over his forehead, his eyes so honest, a tentative smile on his mouth. The only boy you’ve ever loved.
You feel silly for trying to escape this when this is how it’s turning out. Steve had been brave just now, telling you he loves you and he wants you to stay, so you decide to be brave, too.
It’s easier than you thought it would be to say: “I love you, too, Steve. I feel the same. I only just realized it and freaked out. I’m so scared of losing you, is all.”
“You won’t. Not ever.”
You tip your chin up to kiss him after he says it, because you can. You pour your feelings into it, and Steve returns your kiss as if it’s one he’s known for years. It’s slow, and deep, and sweet, and so full of love you’re practically overflowing with it.
The two of you only pull away when you need a breather. Steve doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours.
“So what happens now?” You ask.
“Well, we’ve been acting like a couple for a while, I think, so we stay the same. Mostly. Except now I get to call you my girlfriend-”
“Um, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to ask me first.”
He lets go of one of your hands and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckle running lovingly across your cheek. “My angel girl, will you be my girlfriend?”
Your grin is wide and lovesick and cheesy and you don’t care one bit. “Yeah, yes I will. Boyfriend.”
“And, being your boyfriend means I get to do this.”
He kisses you once more. And you don’t ever want to not be kissing him again.
𝜗𝜚
thank you guys so much for reading!!! it would mean a whole bunch if you would consider leaving a comment or a reblog and letting me know what you thing!! it helps more than you know <3
2K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 10 months
Note
NURSE GETO? NURSE GETO? GETO NURSE? NURSE GETO? BARKEKKAKAJEVRLKA BARKBARKBARK pls. n u r s e g e t o
𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦
ft. Fem!Nurse!Geto x Reader x Doctor!Gojo
contains: fem reader, bisexual reader, pwp, sexual tension, threesome, oral (all three of them), unprotected sex, pullout method, cum eating, face sitting, rough sex, making out, soooo much dirty talk, teasing, masturbation, age gap (reader is 20, satosugu are 30ish), finger sucking, squirting, tag teaming
wc: 14.9k… this took 3 days to write
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
You had recently moved states, meaning you had to break up with your doctor of however many years. It was a sad goodbye, and now you were left with the burden of finding a new doctor. You had recently turned twenty, just having moved out of your parent's house a couple months ago, and you had no idea where to start in looking for a new doctor.
You decided you were going to use your newfound freedom to stay out late and sleep with whoever you wanted! Typical first-time adult free from their parent's reins behavior; but you werent stupid, you knew if you were going to do this, you would need to get on some form of contraceptives.
This led you to look up some highly-rated doctors in your area that was currently talking new patients. You scrolled past dozens upon dozens of old wrinkled faces, before you landed on the perfect candidate; Gojo Satoru. His hair was frosted white, his face looked like it had been chiseled by the gods, and his eyes? You felt like they had come to life on the screen in front of you and were looking through your soul.
Yeah, you had chosen your primary care physician based on his looks, so what? You dug into his portfolio and watched the countless interviews he had done on various websites of course! Definitely not because his outrageous looks and deep voice made your stomach turn over, and absolutely to learn more about your soon-to-be doctor.
After one unnecessarily long phone call to the hospital and speaking to some woman who sounded too senile to still be working; you had the appointment set.
One week later, on the day awaited day, you sat in the waiting room and twirled your thumbs in your lap, you couldn't help but notice that every other patient around you was four times your age. You had dressed yourself up in some sexy, but formal enough-looking clothes, you didn't want to make it too obvious that you had dressed up for this—but your styled hair and extra makeup you added might have given that away.
Your eyes never left the clock as you watched the arms tick by, signaling the time as it got closer and closer to your appointment. You constantly had to remind yourself to take deep breaths as you wiped your sweaty palms off on your knees. You didn't feel this nervous when you were ogling him on the internet, but now that you were here, all the nerves came crashing down. Each time the door to the appointment rooms creaked open, and some different nurse walked into the waiting area, you held your breath before they ultimately called a name that wasn't yours.
After about fifteen minutes past your scheduled time, your nerves had gone down significantly from all of the waiting. You were just about to pull out your phone for the first time that day and play some mobile game to pass the time when the awaited door opened once more, and a tall nurse with long black hair and dark eyes stepped into the room.
She was wearing a tightly fitted mid-thigh length white dress, the sleeves reached to her wrists, but she had rolled them up to her elbows. Her long black hair was pulled half up in a bun, and her side bangs were pulled out from the bun to fall around her face. The rest of her dark strands ran down her back, some cascaded off of her shoulders and rested deliciously against her chest. The low neck of the dress allowed you to get an eyeful of her cleavage that seemed to glow under the yellow lights; you gazed at her collarbones and her slender neck as her dark hair contrasted beautifully against her pale skin.
You could stare at her forever, your gaze dropped down to legs, her thighs were lined in dark tights that made her skin look like silk, your eyes continued in their path down her body until you reached her feet, which stood in delicate-looking black heels—not too too tall— and they made her ankles look so delicious. Her gaze was down on the clipboard she held it against her arm, reading the patient's name mentally before she looked up from under her lashes and scanned around the room and called out your name.
You swore you were the universe's favorite child. First, you had found the hottest man you've ever seen in your life to be your doctor, and his nurse just happened to be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. She called your name again, snapping you out of your stupor and making you slap yourself mentally as you rose to your feet, throwing your bag over your shoulder as you started towards her.
Up close you could see her slanted eyes more clearly, they looked so seductive as she gave you a quick one-over, before she held the door open for you, "Hi sweetheart, we're gonna go to the left." She instructed, to which you just nodded and blushed. She let the door fall shut behind the both of you when you entered, walking past countless diagnosis rooms as she led you to get your measurements. "I haven't seen you here before, is this your first time seeing Dr. Satoru?" She asked, holding her hand out to you to take your bag as she set up the scale for you.
"Oh, y-yeah," You stuttered, trying and failing to meet her sultry eyes as you took off your shoes and placed them to the side of the scale, "I moved here pretty recently so I had to get a new physician." Explained. "I see~" She cooed, mumbling for you to stand straight against the wall so she could get the proper measurements of you before she continued, "Well I'm positive you will love the doctor, He is a very thorough and knowledgeable man." You tensed when you felt her hands graze the top of your head as she brought the leveler down against you to get your height.
"Go ahead and step up here for me." She said, to which you complied, stepping on the scale. "Have you been working for him long?" You asked, making her giggle; the sound was music to your ears. "Ah, funny you ask." She said, jotting down the numbers on the screen in front of her before you stepped down and started pulling your shoes back on. "We have actually been friends since high school." She smiled, tilting her head at you and making her hair drape across her pale face.
You didn't know who you were more jealous of—Dr. Gojo, for being around this woman for god knows how many years of his life, or This woman in front of you, for being around Gojo for all the years of her life. You knew Gojo was about 10 years your senior, so you guessed it must've been the same for her. Not like you would've been able to tell, her skin was almost completely void of any wrinkles or blemishes, she looked like she could be your age if not for her more mature demeanor.
"Wow! That's so cool that you ended up working together! It must be fun." You exclaimed, taking your bag from her as you started for the more private room she would take you to meet the doctor. "It can be." She said, shaking her head with a smile, "He is.. a character for sure." Her subtle insult of him made you laugh. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable wherever, i'm just going to ask you a couple questions and perform some basic tests on you before I go get him." She explained, "Oh, you can call me Geto by the way, seeing your fresh new face caught me off guard earlier, forgive me." She said, smiling sweetly at you.
That made you gulp, hard. You had caught her off guard? Your head was spinning. She had no idea what she just did to your ego. Geto.. you repeated her name in your head a couple times, loving the way it rolled off your mental tongue. She giggled, "That's my name~" Your jaw dropped. You swore you had said it in your head, but obviously not as she glanced at you briefly with a smile before going back to pull up your records. You pulled your lip between your teeth in embarrassment before you spoke. "S-sorry, it's- you have a pretty name." You stuttered.
She gazed up from her screen and looked over your form as you looked around the room, she couldn't help but think of how cute you looked when you were embarrassed. "Well thank you," she said, finally succeeding in pulling up your records. "You know, it's so nice to have a patient that isn't geriatric, not that I don't love all the old geezers out there." She giggled, "It's just refreshing, I'm glad you chose Satoru." She said honestly, making you blush as you connected your eyes with hers. "Glad I could help," you responded, the both of you keeping your eyes on the other while you spoke.
After a couple beats of silence, she broke eye contact and manipulated the large computer so it was in front of her, "Alright~ It seems you're pretty healthy by looking at your records, just gonna ask you to confirm your date of birth for me before we continue." She asked, looking at you once more and smiling in approval when you answered quickly, "Good girl." Her smooth voice echoed her words in your head, making you clench your thighs together on the too-hard chair you sat on.
After she asked you a couple more standard questions she started gathering the blood pressure and heartrate tools to finish up your standard check-in details. She stood up from her chair and waltzed over to where you sat, her hips swaying as she walked, stopping right in front of you. "Is it alright if I roll up your sleeve?" She asked, waiting for your consent before she wrapped the hard plastic around your arm. "Thank you, sweetheart, relax your legs for me as well, and stick out your finger, please." She asked as she clamped the heartrate monitor on your finger.
She took a step back and put her hand on her hips, watching the numbers appear on the little screens of the tools. A smile appeared on her face before she removed the clamp from your finger, "Do I make you nervous?" She asked, catching you off guard and making your eyes shoot up to meet hers. "Uh," you laughed nervously, "I'm only kidding~" She said, removing the plastic from your arm, the back of her hand grazing against your breast as she did so, leaving your skin feeling like it was buzzing where she touched you. "Your heart rate is just a little high~" Geto explained.
"Oh, I guess I am a little nervous." You admitted shyly, rubbing your sweaty hands against your knees once more. "Aww~ Don't be nervous sweet thing, me and the doctor have your best interests at heart trust me~" She cooed, succeeding in easing your nerves slightly. "So, last question for the doctor, what brings you in today? Standart check-up stuff, or something else?" She asked, tipping her head at you as she waited for you to respond.
At this point, you were semi-regretting your choice to pick a hot doctor with a coincidental hot nurse at the embarrassment you felt from just thinking about telling them you wanted to go on birth control. Maybe you should've chosen one of those old-looking doctors. What if you had hemorrhoids one day? Or had a nasty rash you needed to get looked at? You didn't want these beautiful people to know about that!
You took a deep breath before you spoke, "I uh, was wanting to go on birth control." You said. "Ohh~ smart girl." She perked up, "Did you want to get STI or STD tested while you were here? It's super quick." She offered. "Oh! nono, I uh, I'm not currently.. sexually active." You responded. You were too busy looking at the floor mortified to notice how her eyes lit up upon the revelation that you currently had no sexual partner.
"Oh I see, we can skip the test then~" She said, jotting down the final notes into your chart before she stood, smoothing her dress down her thighs as she rose to her feet. "Alright sweetheart, Ill be right back with the doctor." She winked, making your mouth run dry as you nodded shortly at her. You couldnt stop your eyes from dropping to her ass, watching her hips move as she walked out of the room and gently shut the door behind her.
The second you were alone, you dropped your head into your hands and sighed, your face turning an impossibly darker shade of crimson. You should not be as aroused as you were but she was definitely flirting, right? You had a horrible radar for this kind of thing. Her flirty personality might be just that, her personality, but it seemed more than that. You heaved out a louder sigh, repeating your interactions with her over and over in your head a thousand times as you waited for the doctor.
"Satoruuu, patient time." Geto knocked on his office, making the white-haired man groan and drop his legs onto the floor from where they were splayed out on his desk. "I love my job, but I don't know how many more old geezers with cholesterol problems I can take." He sighed, throwing on his white coat to give him an air of professionalism before he started for the door. The man was halted in his tracks when Geto gave him a squinted look, "Just a second, Satoru." She said, pushing his chest back into his office and shutting the door behind him.
"Oh, Suguru look, I'm flattered~ Truly~" Gojo started, placing the back of his hand over his forehead dramatically. "Ew, no, it's about the patient," Geto said, rolling her eyes at her obnoxious best friend's antics. He dropped his hand to his hips, tilting his head at her as he waited for her to speak, "I think you're really going to like this one, shes new," Geto said, raising her eyebrows. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you, but I'm not into women who are 50-plus years older than me." He sighed, his face tuning into a scowel as he dismissed Geto.
"You're impossible," She sighed, rubbing her temples. Gojo never listened to a thing anyone says, trying to talk to him was like communicating with a brick wall. "She's young, Gojo; twenty; and she wants your help to get her on birth control." She said, watching the color come back to Gojo's face as she spoke. "If you're lying Ill tell the superiors you forged a drug test." He said, all too seriously, making Suguru laugh. "She's a cute one too, just come see for yourself." She giggled, fixing her hair in the mirror on Gojo's door before she opened it and walked into the hallway, Satoru right on her tail, bouncing with excitement.
You lifted your head from your knees and wiped the stray hairs from your face when you heard a knock on your door. Your heart immediately started pounding out of your chest. Good thing you were at a hospital right now because you seriously thought you were going to have a heart attack at any second.
When the door cracked open, the first thing you saw was his white hair peeking through the door, his cruelian eyes next, as they made searing contact with yours. He was so much taller than you imagined, he must've been well over 6 ft tall as he had to duck his head to enter the room. His shirt looked all too small for his chest, the buttons that adorned it were threatening to burst if he moved too suddenly. You could see his bulging muscles through his slacks and his white doctor's jacket alike, making you swallow the saliva that pooled in your mouth, threatening to spill over your lips.
When he was full inside, Geto's familiar face was revealed to you as she slipped in behind him. You couldn't tell if her presence set you more on edge, or comforted you with how fast your heart was racing. "Well hello there." The handsome man said your name and the word has never sounded better when it rolled off his tongue, "Nurse Geto told me this is your first time seeing me," He smiled fondly at you, showing off his impossibly white teeth, "Although I could come to that conclusion myself, I would remember someone like you." He said, making your mouth run dry.
"My name is Dr. Gojo Satoru, its a pleasure to meet you." He said, squinting his eyes as he smiled at you and stuck his large hand out for you to shake. His hand almost entirely covered yours when he shook it, the heat radiating from his hand alone seemed to warm your entire body from the couple of seconds of contact.
"I-its nice to meet you too." You said through a shaky voice, trying your best to keep eye contact with his intimidating gaze. "Nurse Geto will just be here to take notes, is that alright?" He asked, sitting on the chair Geto sat at before, placed in front of the big computer. You shook your head, signaling your approval before you gazed away from him and made eye contact with her comforting face.
"Alright let's get down to business ~" He clapped his hands together before dragging two big fingers over the mousepad and looking briefly over your chart. "You're here to talk about birth control right?" He checked, raising his eyebrow at you as he looked over your body quickly before you looked back at him. "Yes, I've never used any form of contraceptives before, so.. I'm not really sure what all the methods are." This confession made Gojo's eyebrows shoot up.
"Ohhh ballsy~" He said before continuing, "You really should at least use a condom during sex, they protect against many forms of STD's and largely prevent unwanted pregnancies." He explained, interlacing his fingers together in his lap. "Has Nurse Geto already offered the STD screeding today?" He asked. "Oh, no I think you misunderstand, Ive never.." You paused, and he smiled and nodded at your words, encouraging you to continue, "I've never needed contraceptives because I haven't had sex before, but I've recently been attending college for the first time so I thought It might be smart to start now, you never know what might happen." You explained, looking away from his glowing eyes.
"Ah, good girl, that's a very responsible decision." He praised. What was with these people and their flirty personalities? You felt like your face was going to explode with how hot it was. Geto hummed in agreement in the background, making you look between the two of them. "Well, lucky for you my dear, we have manyy~ options available for you." He dragged in his chipper voice. "I'll make sure you leave with some condoms today, Geto will provide those for you at the end of your appointment, so you'll be covered there." He said, making you smile and nod in appreciation.
"But for the big guns, we have the pill, which is most common but typically has the most intense side effects." Your face scrunched up at the sound of side effects, yuck. He explained a couple more options, Nexplanon; an implant that would go in your arm, which made you cringe, A shot you would get once every three months; which sounded annoying, and an IUD, which would essentially get shoved into your cervix via some overworked and mean woman who doesnt care about your general well being and just wants to go home to sleep.
He laughed at your face when you stared at your feet with an expression of disgust. "You don't seem very thrilled with any of the options." He said, rolling his chair over to yours as he caressed his big hand over your back. This was a lot more to take in than you thought. "Am I supposed to be?" You asked, looking up at your lashes at his face that was far too close for comfort, yet you wouldn't dare tell him to move. Geto laughed at your response, "Absolutely not, being a woman is hell, and they aren't going to make it any easier by giving us some nice, painless out of getting pregnant." She said, making your sigh.
As intimidating as these two were, you felt strangely comfortable talking to them about this, especially with how real they were being. Geto was clearly not afraid to give you the cold hard truth and not sugar coat anything. "Are you on birth control?" You aked Geto, quickly putting your arms out in front of you as your face heated up, "I am so sorry! You don't have to answer that!" You panicked, making the both of them giggle.
"It's alright sweetie, Id be more than happy to tell you. Talking to another woman about their own experience with certain forms of birth control can help you make your own informed decision." She smiled. You don't think you've ever wanted to fuck a woman so bad in your life. You mentally slapped yourself from getting aroused at her explaining birth control to you, but the way she was being so supportive made your stomach do flips.
"And you definitely don't need to make a decision today," Gojo added, removing his hand from your back as he sat back into his chair, spreading his legs out wide. "Doctor Gojo is right," Geto added, before she rose to her feet and walked over to where you sat before sitting down next to you herself and placing her hand on your knee.
"As for your question, I used to be on the pill, but taking it every day at the same time got tedious, so I got an IUD and it was the best decision I ever made." She said, rubbing her hand over your knee in a way that you assume was supposed to be comforting but it just heightened your arousal if anything. She leaned in till her mouth was right against your ear and whispered, "The best part is your partner can come inside and you don't even have to think about it." She giggled, pulling back her hand from your leg as she stood up and got back into her place behind Gojo's seat.
So that was flirting, right? She was 100% flirting right there, there was no doubt in your mind. "No secrets," Gojo whined, pouting at Geto while she stuck her tongue out at him. You couldn't even pay attention to the banter between them as your ear was still tingling from where she whispered into it.
"I-I think the IUD sounds good." You said, making Geto giggle. "Did what I tell you help you come to that conclusion?" She asked, Once again making Gojo beg for her to tell him what she said. "Geeez." She said, shooing Gojo off of her with her hand, "I just let her know that she doesn't have to worry if her partner comes inside her." She said, making a grin plaster itself over Gojo's handsome features.
"Ohh" He cooed, "Yeah that is a nice perk." The white-haired man said, rolling his chair away from Geto's personal space. "Does that sound like something you're interested in?" The handsome doctor asked, making you choke on your saliva. "H-huh, I uh, I don't know, It sounds like it could be nice.." You said under your breath. "A IUD sounds like it could be nice?" He repeated, making you freeze as you realized you misunderstood his question. Of course he wasn't asking you if you wanted to get cream pied, for fuck's sake. You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole right now.
Geto snickered under her breath, a light blush coating her face at your confession. "Well, it is nice, She's not wrong." The dark-haired woman added, making your embarrassment worse as you hid your face in your hands. "Ughhhh.. sorry." Your muffled voice came through your hands, making Gojo laugh softly. "It's okay, no one is judging here." He said, taking the opportunity to once again study your body under his intense gaze as your eyes were obstructed.
You took a deep breath before dropping your hands into your lap, intertwining your fingers as you twiddled with your thumbs. "I'll make a follow-up appointment for a week from now to give you some time to think about it." He said, changing the subject so as to not embarrass you any further. Geto typed some notes down into her laptop from behind him while Gojo scrolled through your chart. He made sure you had no other questions regarding the topic before he continued.
"Alright, so It says here in your chart that your last physical exam was over three years ago, is that right?" He asked you, "Yes, that's right." you replied, noticing how he tsked at your answer. "You really should be making regualr visits to the doctor~" He cooed, wiggling his long finger out in front of him. "When was the last time you had a breast exam? Im not seeing any notes about that in your chart either." He said, scrolling on the computer.
You bit your lip before answering, "I uh, I've never gotten a.. a breast exam." You said, making both Geto and Gojo turn their heads to look at you. "Oh honey, those are so important you know, you should be checking yourself yearly after you turn 18." Geto explained. You knew she was right but it sounded so embarrassing. You remember trying it yourself once, following the guide of som video years ago, but you had no idea what you were feeling for, and the thought of some doctor doing it for you made you even more nervous, so you just abandoned the thought.
"I tried myself after we learned about it in high school but.. I didn't know how to do it, and it seemed so humiliating to ask my doctor to help me." You said, making brief eye contact with the two before you looked around the room, avoiding their eyes. Geto and Gojo simultaneously bit their lip, their faces heating up at your innocent confession before the white-haired man spoke up. "Honey, that's what we're here for, you should never feel embarrassed for keeping yourself healthy." He cooed, standing from his seat as his long legs took him over to the cupboards, where he pulled out a white gown.
"Go ahead and put this on, we'll leave the room to give you some privacy." He explained, putting the white cloth in your hands. "We can do your breast exam today, along with your other physical exam testing." He said, smiling at you warmly before he tipped his head at Geto and signaled for the two of them to leave. You waited until the door clicked shut before you stood. You looked around the room before you started undressing.
You pulled off all of your clothes, save for your panties, which you couldn't help but notice that you had completely soaked through. You hoped they wouldn't somehow notice during the exam, you would be absolutely mortified. You folded your clothes and placed them on the empty chair next to your bag, while you waited with a racing heart for them to re-enter the room.
Gojo and Geto had moved just a couple feet down the hall, leaning against opposite sides of the wall next to the window while they waited. "Good call on bringing up the breast exam," Geto spoke through the silence, which made him sigh in relief as Gojo's body relaxed, dropping his arms by his side. "Oh I'm so glad you said something, I thought it was pretty smart." He giggled mischievously.
"So what do you think of her?" Geto asked, twirling a dark strand of her hair around her manicured fingers. "She's fucking adorable, I just wanna bend her over the exam table and fuck the life outta her." Gojo wined, tipping his head back against the wall. Geto laughed in response, wholeheartedly agreeing with her perverted best friend.
"I'm so glad this ridiculously long coat covers my crotch, I've been so unbelievably hard from the second I laid eyes on her." Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair before he stared down at his crotch. "Wouldn't wanna scare her away now." Geto laughed, following his gaze down to his covered crotch and nodding in approval when she couldn't see the massive tent he was sporting through the cover of it.
The two of them would feel bad about talking about a clueless patient like this, but you were so fun to tease, and you were just too fucking cute that it overwhelmed any rational thinking from them. The two friends truly did share a brain cell when they were around you. "Yeah, I hear you, I wonder if she's into women, I would love to see her doe eyes looking up at me while I sit on her face." She day dreams, huffing out a sigh of her own.
"Oh, are you kidding?" Gojo laughed, "Did you see the way she clenched her thighs when you put your hand on her knee? She definitely swings both ways." The two of them gossiped for a couple minutes like their high school days, before Geto got a glimpse of the time on Gojo's watch. "She's probably done now don't you think?" Geto said, tapping her heel against the floor. "Yeah, it's time." Gojo smiled, giving Geto a sneaky fist bump before they made their way back to your room.
You held the fabric closer to your body when you heard them knock on the door. Once you verbalized that they could come inside, the door squeaked open, and they stepped into your space once more. "Oh my god thank you for folding your clothes so neatly." Geto sighed, holding her hand over her chest while she spoke. "I swear these old babies just leave their clothes all over the floor like children, then ask me to clean it up after." She sighed, referring to the old patients they saw all too often.
Her relief made you laugh, easing your nerves a bit as you waved your hand in front of you, telling her it was no problem. "Alright, go ahead and sit up here for me." Doctor Gojo spoke, patting his hand on the parchment lined exam bed in the middle of the room. You raised to your feet, holding the back of the gown shut behind your ass as you climbed onto the bed and sat down.
Gojo stood inches from his pelvis touching your knees as he gripped the rubber reflex hammer in his massive hand, making it look dwarfed. Geto walked around him and sat in one of the chairs that gave her the best view, bringing her laptop with her to disguise her perverted antics as work. "Is it alright if I touch you?" Gojo asked, looking into your eyes as he waited for his answer.
To your own surprise, you were able to keep contact with them as you nodded shyly, and dropped your gaze to his hand as it started for your knee. You twitched instinctively when his warm hand cradled the underside of your knee before smoothing it around to the front and gently pushing the fabric of the gown up so he could have a better view of what he was doing.
He pressed his palm flat against your thigh, right above your knee, and hit the rubber against your knee, making it kick up reflexively as you kicked against his shin lightly. "Oh- sorry doctor." You apologized. "Don't be, sweetheart." He laughed, "It's not like you can control it." He said. He then instructed you to scoot against the edge of the bed so he could press his stethoscope against various parts of your torso.
"This might be a little cold." He warned before his big hand came to stabilize your lower back as he pressed the cold metal agaisnt the skin on your back, making you tense up at the touch. He apologized and continued pressing the stethescope over specific points on your back as he had you inhale deeply for him. "Thats right, just like that." He praised when you listende obediantly to his instruction, making your face flush, something Geto did not miss as she sat in front of you with a perfect veiw of your entire body.
His warm hand made your skin feel like it was on fire, you pulled your lip between your teeth when his hand moved lower on your back, as did his stethoscope. His body was so close to yours, your knees practically pressed against his waist.
“Your heart is racing~” he teased, pulling away entirely as he spoke some numbers to Geto, making her type them down on her laptop. “It’s been a while..” you laughed awkwardly. “Since someone touched you?” he said, making every hair on your body stand on edge. “S-since I’ve been to the doctor, I mean..” you clarified, cleaning your throat as you avoided his eyes which were staring straight through yours. The white-haired man smiled at your response before he leaned back, removing his touch from your body.
"Right," He said before he hung his stethescope back around his neck. "Are you ready for the breast exam?" He asked, which mad you clench your thighs together at what was to come. "I uh.. I think so, but I have a question." You said, staring up at his face that seemed to be beaming with excitement. "Is there any way that Nurse Geto could um.. do the exam?" You asked, embarrassment laced in your tone. "I don't mean to offend you, its just, she's.." You stuttered.
If you had been paying attention you would've seen the way the light drained from Gojo's face, as he tried his best to maintain his smile. "Absolutely!" Geto perked, standing from her chair as she placed her hand on Gojo's shoulder, pushing him out of the way. "I would be more than happy to take over." She said kindly, giving Gojo a smug look over her shoulder before walking past him.
"Thats. Perfectly. Fine!" Gojo grit through his faux smile, his eye twitching at the fact that Geto got to touch you before him. If it were any other nurse he would've been fine with it. Sure, he still would've been bummed out; but it would've been fine. Only now, because he knew Geto had the same motives as him, it irritated him to no end.
"Do you want me to leave the room too?" He asked, trying to not let the 'sore loser' seep into his tone. He heaved an internal sigh of relief when you shook your head, allowing him to stay in the room. "Alright, I'm going to draw this curtain for some privacy, then we can get to it." She said, making you bite your lip and nod at her, as you held eye contact with her dark eyes. You watched with bated breath as she drew the curtain between the two of you, and the doctor.
Unbeknownst to you, she had sent the man on the other side one last smug look before she closed the curtain. Once she secured it to the hook on the wall, she turned to face you, holding her hands together in front of her. "Alright sweetie, whenever you're ready, you can remove your gown." Her smooth voice echoed into the room. Gojo had made himself comfortable leaning against the wall, his head tipped back against it as he bit his lip and tried to quiet his own pounding heart enough to listen to what was happening just a couple feet from him.
You held the fabric over your chest, getting a hold of your nerves before you slid it down your arms. Geto kept her eyes on your face, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. She did however get a peek of them through her prerephrial vision, which would suffice for now. "Do you prefer to sit or stand for this?" She asks, already looking into your eyes when you look back to her. "I- I think I'll sit, if that's okay." You replied. You seriously didn't know if your legs would hold up if you were to stand right now, they were already trembling and she hadnt even done anythng yet.
She stepped into your space, slotting herself between your knees and up against the hospital bed as she released her fingers from one another, coming to rest on the side of the bed. "I'm going to start now, okay?" She said, smiling when you nodded at her.
You knew you weren't going crazy, something was here, it had to be. The air felt so thick, it felt so hard to breathe with her so close. On top of that, you didn't think you'd ever been so turned on in your life. The throbbing between your legs and the heat that was pooling in your belly was almost unbearable. Your bare chest was out for her eyes; and soon her hands; to feast upon. Your nipples had pebbled from being so exposed, and you could feel the goosebumps that spread along your arms while you held your breath, and watched her reach her hands out to touch you.
When her warm hands made contact with your skin you gasped, quickly pressing your lips together as a crimson blush spread itself darker along your face. "You okay?" She asked, beginning to massage your breasts in her hands. "M-mhm" You answered, looking away from her intimidating gaze and opting to look at the floor while she squished and squeezed your breasts in her hands.
When she made sure she wouldn't be caught looking, she dropped her gaze to your breasts. She felt her cunt pulse around nothing when the view of your completely unobstructed tits registered in her brain. She quickly licked her lips, trying to snap herself out of the trance she was in and focus on the task at hand.
On the other side of the curtain, Gojo had his palm pressed over his mouth, his head still tipped back against the wall as his other was rubbing himself slowly over his slacks. His head was spinning listening to the little gasps and whines you made, he wished so badly that he was the one making you make all those sounds; what he wouldn't give to see your face right now.
His legs threatened to buckle underneath him the longer he stroked himself, he knew he shouldn't be doing this but the only other person who would ever know about this was Geto, and he knew she would take it to the grave.
A loud moan emanating from the other side of the curtain made him freeze. "Sorry honey, did that hurt?" Geto asked in her sultry voice, quickly looking back up to your eyes to avoid being caught ogling your tits. "N-no, didn't.. didn't hurt." You said, looking up at her from underneath your eyelashes. "Mmm.. just sensitive, huh?" She asked, pouting her bottom lip at you as she continued massaging your breasts in her hands.
She resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together, taking a deep breath to calm herself when you nodded. "Mine are the same too, I get it." She admitted, making you rub your thighs together. "They feel quite healthy tho, no lumps or anything feeling concerning." She said, bringing the more professional side of things back into play before she lost her cool and kissed you. Gojo was so close to ripping back the curtain to see what was happening, but now more than ever was a time that he needed to exercise patience.
"A-are you sure?" You said, you really didn't want her to stop touching you, it made your cunt pulse whenever she squished your breasts in her hands. "Well.. I'm not as experienced as the doctor.." She drawled, making Gojo remove his hand from his cock as he perked up. "If you're okay with it, we could get a second opinion." She offered, to which you nodded eagerly. She laughed at your enthusiasm before she replied, "Okay, Ill go ahead and let Doctor Gojo in." She smiled, before turning around to untie the curtain from the wall.
You weren't thinking rationally at this point, your brain was feeling foggy and your body was plagued with the need for release. You were no longer as embarrassed as you were before as you sat patiently on the bed and waited for the doctor.
Gojo straightened his coat in front of himself once more when Geto cracked open the curtain for him. She shook her head when she noticed how flushed and out of it he looked, making a vague gesture to his hair, telling him to fix it before he presented himself to you.
After the man ran his hands through his soft hair a couple of times— and after receiving a nod of approval from Geto— he made peeked his head inside, and let Geto shut the cloth behind him, tying it to the wall once more to block them off from the rest of the room.
Gojo smiled at you, internally screaming as your eyes made contact with his, meaning he couldn’t peek a look at your bare chest that sat right in front of him, practically begging for him to touch it. “Well hello again, I hope you’ve been well~” he said, easing the palpable tension in the space before he made his way in front of you.
“Heard you wanted a second opinion, hm?” He asked, tilting his head while he smiled at you. “Y-yeah, just in case.. yknow,” you said under your breath. The both of them saw through your lie. They were all picking up on the same tension you felt, and Gojo was well aware that Geto was more than familiar with giving breast exams adequately, she had never asked Gojo for a second opinion before.
“Alright, let’s see.” Gojo whispered before he pushed himself in the same position Geto was before him, right between your legs, as she watched him ‘work’ from the side. As much as Geto loved touching your herself, it made it hard to look at your breasts while she did, so now that Gojo was ‘double checking’ her work, she had the perfect excuse to watch.
You bit your lip between your teeth and looked down at his hands when you felt his larger palms make contact with your breasts. You were unable to stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together as subtly as possible, although not quite subtle enough. Geto’s watchful eyes picked up on your shifting, she watched you cross your ankles together and your spine stiffen while Gojo worked his hands on you.
"Mph-" Your muffled moans vibrated agains your lips as you tried your best to hold back. "Hmm~" Gojo hummed, furrowing his eyebrows together. "Something wrong?" Geto asked, uncrossing her arms from where she stood. "Maybe.. feel this spot right here for me." Gojo asked, moving his hand off of your right breast and letting Geto step into your space. Your body jolted when her cold fingers wrapped around your breast and squeezed roughly while Gojo's hand was still at work on your other.
"Mmm feels a little tender," She said, pouting her bottom lip out. "I-is that bad?" You asked, looking up at her while she watched your breast move under the manipulation of her hand. "How often do you venture up here?" She asked, keeping her eyes on yours while she spoke. "N-not often." You asked, making Gojo and Geto shake their heads in unison. "Thats no good~ Its good to keep the blood moving up here every once in a while." Gojo chastised, giving your tit a particularly hard squeeze.
"It's sooo easy too." Geto continued, leaning into your ear, "You can do it when you're all alone.. getting ready for bed.." Her whispers made your breath pick up, your choked breaths were freely flowing into the air as the two of them massaged your chest. This was no longer about a breast exam, and the three of you knew it. "Touching your nipples is soo good for the blood flow too~" She continued her teasing, pinching your hard bud between her index finger and thumb.
"Anyways~" She said suddenly, removing her hand completely and backing up from you after rolling your nipple between her fingers for a few seconds. Gojo copied her, pulling his hand away from your skin and placing it on his hip as he faced his body towards the dark-haired nurse, "I didn't feel anything abnormal, so I think we've checked all our bases." She said, winking at Gojo, signaling for him to go along with it.
"Oh yeah, I think you're right, they felt veeerry healthy to me," Gojo responded, dragging out his words. You started panicking internally, it couldn't be over already, could it? Had this all really just been professional? Including the stuff Geto just said? Your body was on fire, you were feeling drunk already and they had barely touched you, there was no way it stopped here. "W-wait, that was s-so fast, are you sure you checked thoroughly enough?" You asked, trying and failing to keep the need out of your voice.
"I mean, both of us are pretty experienced with this kind of thing.. and we didn't feel anything wrong, you worried we missed something?" Gojo asked, smirking when you nodded a little too quickly. "Are you sure?" He asked, making you tilt your head in confusion, "Sure about what?" You asked, pulling up the cloth to cover your breasts as you waited for him to speak. "Are you sure you're worried we missed something?" He asked, making Geto cover her mouth with a snicker, before she slapped his shoulder.
"I-yes, w-why else.." You bait, swallowing hard as you try to breathe in the heavy air in the room. "Well~" The white-haired doctor started as he slowly turned his body to face you once more, looking you up and down before he started making his way over to you. The two of you kept eye contact with one another up until he was between your legs again, his big hand came up to push your hand that was holding the gown over your chest down into your lap.
"I know getting your chest played with can feel erotic." He said, curling his lips in on themselves before he reached his hand out for your chest once more, and engulfed your tit in his hand. "Could that be why you don't want us to stop?" He said, tilting his head down at you as he tried to make you look at his eyes again. Your jaw dropped open as soft moans slipped from your tongue and out into the small room around you.
Geto came up from behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head against her shoulder as she looked at you, "Dont lie~" She added, giving you a sinister smile disguised as a sweet one. You took a deep breath, looking between the two of them before you nodded. "Fucking knew it~" Geto cooed, her smile becoming toothy as she released her hold around Gojo and slid between the two of you, sliding her hands under the thin gown against your upper thighs.
Gojo could be heard pouting out a "hey.." from behind the two of you. She leaned in close to your face, her sweet perfume clouding your senses. She licked her lips and gripped your thighs in her hands. "You like me?" She asked, pressing her shiny lips together in a smile. You breathed out a needy 'yes' against her lips, looking up between her eyes and her mouth. "Is this okay?" You asked.
You knew this wasn't exactly standard practice in.. well.. anywhere. And they were absolutely breaking every code in the book right now, but between the three of you, not one of you cared. "Is it okay?" She asked, scrunching her eyebrows at you. "Were all adults here." Gojo smiled, sitting against the arm of the chair as he watched the two of you.
When you nodded, Geto's lips were on yours. "Mmm! Mph-" You moaned against her lips when she wasted no time in making her tongue home in your mouth, she slid her hands to your waist and pulled you against her so you were pelvis to pelvis. "Gotta be quiet for me, okay?" She whispered in between kisses.
You nodded, vocalizing an 'uh-huh" aginst her lips before she climbed on top of you, pressing her knee against your cunt while she kissed you hungrily. You squeezed your thighs around hers, your knee simultaneously bumping against her mound, your leg pushing her dress up her thighs as exposing her panties to your hungry eyes.
"Fuck, this is so fucking hot." Gojo groaned, you cracked your eyes open and looked at him out of the corner of your eye, Geto took the opportunity to grip the bottom half of your face in her hand and tilted it to the side, facing Gojo, as she brought her lips down to your neck and started kissing and sucking the skin there. "Keep your eyes on him, sure hes jerking off right about now." She giggled against your neck, her other hand touching freely over your body.
Her intuition was spot on, the white-haired man was groping himself over his pants, and his white doctor's jacket had been discarded on the chair he was leaning against as he watched the show in front of him.
“D-Doctor Gojo,” you whined, squeezing your thighs harder around Geto’s leg as your arousal spiked watching him jerk off. “You like watchin me baby?” he asked, a drunken smile plastering itself on his face. “Y-yes” you replied, making him put his full weight on his feet as he walked towards you.
“Bet you’ll like touchin me even more.” The white haired man came up on the side of you and held your head in his hand as he pressed his thighs against the bed the two of you were on. Gojo reached for your hand and made you palm him over his pants while Geto turned your head back to her and kissed you once more.
The man’s big hand groped over yours and aided you in touching his cock through his slacks while Geto moaned into your mouth. He felt absolutely massive under your hand, you doubted even Gojo himself could wrap his hand completely around his cock. “Oh good fucking girl.” He praised, biting his lip while he watched the two of you go at it like animals.
Geto dropped her hand from your face and used it to massage your tit once more, paying more attention to your nipple now that she could stop disguising her shameless groping as a breast exam. "You're so sensitive here I don't know how you held out for so long." She teased, pulling her mouth back with a wet sound as she watched your face contort under her hands ministrations against your chest.
Your other hand came up to press her hand against hers, silently telling her not to stop. "Oh yeah? You like that?" She moaned, smiling at your silent plea. "Don't worry baby, Ill make you feel even better." She promised, using the tip of her middle finger to rub around the areola of your nipple, making your hips push up against her knee.
"We" Gojo corrected the dark-haired woman. "We will make you feel even better." The woman laughed, moving her eyes to focus on Gojo's while she leaned down against your chest and sucked the little bud into her mouth. She chose not to respond and instead oped to close her eyes as she hummed around your warm nipple, rolling and sucking it into her mouth, making sure to spend extra attention to the tip of your nipple with her tongue.
Gojo watched your body jerk and squirm against the bed while she alternated between your sensitive nipples; she used her other hand to grope the tit her mouth wasn't on, making sure it didn't feel lonely. Your hand went slack against his crotch, giving Gojo the time to pull away before he was unzipping his pants and pulling his cock through the hole in his boxers.
You moaned sharply when you felt him press your hand around something warm and hard. You instinctively wrapped your hand around it, making him coo at you as you looked over to watch what you were doing. "Yesss, stroke my dick, pretty girl." He smiled, using his big hand to run his fingers through your hair while you slowly and unsurely gave the handsome doctor a handjob.
Geto popped off of your tits after a while, staring down at her work as she admired the light purple hickeys that decorated your breasts along with your swollen nipples from all her sucking. "So fucking pretty," She praised, making Gojo hum in agreement. "I would looove to suck your tits all day, but your cunt has been pulsing against my knee for so fucking long I cant take it anymore." She said, crawling off from on top of you and sliding your panties down your thighs with her.
"Fuck yess." Gojo moaned, biting his lip. He really had no romantic interest in Geto, but you were both undeniably hot, and the thought of watching her eating you out and her making you cum on her tongue in front of him made his dick throb in your grip. "Pervert." Geto smiled smugly, rolling her eyes. "I'm only a man." He said, making her giggle as she pulled your body once more, to the edge of the bed. "W-what are you gonna do." You asked, looking down at the woman between your legs before looking over to the white-haired man on your side.
"Im gonna eat your pussy while you suck Doctor Gojo off, that sound okay to you guys?" She asked, smiling sweetly between the two of you. Both you and Gojo nodded quickly at her proposition, "I can't think of a better idea myself." He responded, dropping his other hand down to caress the head of his best friend. She rolled her eyes at his dramatics before she slung your thighs around her head, kneeling on the steps below the bed.
"You ever squirted before?" She asked you, making you sit up slightly to look at her, "N-no." You answered, making her smile mischievously before she bit your thigh hard, pulling the skin back before releasing it, "You will." She responded confidently. You had no doubt in your mind that she wouldn't. You turned your head back to the doctor, watching your hand stroke his cock while Geto had her way with your thighs.
"You ever sucked a cock before?" He asked, caressing your head comfortingly. His brain short-circled when he watched you look up at him from under your lashes, your doe eyes looking glassy, "Not one as big as yours." You said, dropping your eyes back down to his length. You thought dicks like his only existed in porn. You swallowed hard thinking about how you were going to fit him in your mouth. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." He assured, his abs clenchedwhen you rubbed your thumb over his tip, spreading the wetness down the length of his cock.
He brought himself as close as he could, cradling your head while you stroked his dick right in front of your face, just inches from your mouth. Geto was having the time of her life between your thighs, she was suckinng and biting every last bit of your skin to make sure that every time you looked in the mirror for weeks afterward, you would be reminded of what happened that day.
She brought her mouth closer and closer to where you needed her the most; her teasing making you squeeze your hand around Gojo's cock harder. "Fuck, such a pretty pussy." She mumbled to no one in particular. "If its so pretty, maybe you should eat it already~" Gojo teased, dying to see you squirm on her tongue and feel you moan around his cock while she ate you out.
Geto was constantly bragging to Gojo about her skilled tongue in bed, having seemingly endless stories about how she made guys and girls alike squirt like a fountain in record-breaking times, he was excited to finally see it in person. "Don't tell me what to do Satoru." She chastized--but listened to him anyways.
She leaned her head down between your legs and gave a precise kitten lick to your little clit, making you jolt. You wished you could watch her, but you had work to do yourself, the feeling of her hands wrapping around your thighs while she ate you out would have to do. You brought your own head closer to Gojo's cock and mimicked her actions on you, against him, kitten licking the tip of his dick.
"Yesss," Gojo groaned with a smile, not knowing where he wanted to look more as his eyes darted between your lips that were slowly but surely wrapping themselves around his cock, or in between your legs, where his best friend shook her head back and forth against your wetness, making your body jerk at the intense pleasure. "Holy shit, you're so fucking sweet." She whined against your cunt, sucking the little neglected bud into her mouth.
Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at her ministrations, the vibrations from her voice around your clit sent pleasant chills down your spine. Gojo watched with a slack jaw as you bobbed your head further down his dick, using your small hand to smear the spit you were creating down the length of his cock and jerk off what couldn't fit in your mouth from this angle.
You were grateful to have something plugging you up, because Geto's expert tongue was doing wonders for you, and you weren't sure how quiet you could've been without having Gojo's cock in your throat. This all felt like a fuzzy dream to you, because there was absolutely no way you were getting tag-teamed by your new physician and his hot nurse on top of this this hard hospital bed on a Thursday.
Geto's tongue quickly brought you back down to reality when she started drawing quick circles against your clit with her thumb, as she buried her face as deep as possible against you, tongue fucking your cunt and moaning against you shamelessly. "I don't think you're the one we have to worry about staying quiet." Gojo giggled down at you.
She pulled her mouth back from you, heaving air into her lungs as she spoke, "You're saying that without having tasted her." She said, before dropping her tongue back on you. Gojo wasn't sure how long she had been doing it, but at some point, her hand come down to play with her own needy cunt between your legs while she ate you out. He couldn't see exactly what she was doing because of his blocked vision by the table, but he could see her arm was moving rapidly underneath you.
"Must taste r-real good if she has you fingering yourself." Gojo teased, his words coming out in stutters when you tried to take his cock deeper in your throat, resulting in a gag that made your throat constrict around him. She just moaned in response, keeping up the delicious circles on your clit while she drank up every drop of your arousal that you gave her.
You brought your head away from Gojo's cock, popping your lips back with a lewd wet sound. "Y-you're so big D-doctor." You pouted, staring up at the man. He knew it was so wrong, so absolutely twisted, but when he heard you call him 'doctor' in this situation, it made a heavy drop of pre drip onto your hand. "Oh, you're fucking naughty." He giggled, starting to hump his cock in your hand, making obscene 'schlick' sounds emanate around the room.
You let yourself moan freely for a couple of seconds before your mouth was back on him. You made quick circles around the tip of his cock, rotating your tongue against him while making sure to pay special attention to the vein that ran on the underside of his cock. "What a fucking mouth~" He said, letting his jaw fall open as his head tipped back in a moan, trying his hardest not to release his load over your pretty face so soon.
His brain short-circuited when your other hand joined the mix, massaging his balls in the palm of your hand. "Oh fuck- just like that, don't fucking stopp." He moaned, gripping his nails harder against your scalp while you bobbed your head around his cock and played with his heavy balls in your hands with a delicious rhythm.
The truth was, Geto was rapidly bringing you towards what you knew would be a mindblowing orgasm, and you wanted to make Gojo cum before that, so you put all of your brainpower onto pleasuring him while the dark-haired woman between your thighs alternated between sucking your cit and finger fucking you, curling her fingers against your sweet spot; and tongue fucking you while she spelled her name on your clit with her fingers.
"Think she's gonna cum." Geto mumbled against your pussy, making Gojo groan in acknowledgment. "Fuck, I am too." He responded. "So fucking t-tight." She whimpered into your pussy, quickening the speed of the thrusts inside herself as she used the palm of her hand to grind her clit against it. "You gonna let me cum all over your pretty face? Huh?" Gojo asked, scratching his nails over your head.
You looked up at him through your lashes, your watery eyes trying their best not to roll back in your head as you nodded around him, giving your consent. "You're so fucking." thrust "Perfect." He grinned, giggling when you gagged particularly hard against his mean hips.
The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter, you so desperately needed to see Geto’s face before you came; you knew it would push you over the edge. “Oh- S-shit-“ Gojo groaned, “C-can I fuck your throat? I’m so close, promise I’ll be fast.” The thought of him losing control and humping hi cock into your warm mouth sounded like just what you needed right now.
You shook your head to the best of your ability, dropping both hands from his cock as he grabbed your cheek with his other hand, getting a better leverage on you before he started fucking hi cock down your throat. You brought your hands down to the woman’s hair between your legs and dug your nails into her scalp, making her whine into your clit. “Mhm-mhm-“ she hummed against you while you used her head to hump your own hips against her face.
You fought back gag after gag as gojo used your mouth like his own personal flesh light, biting his lip and gritting his teeth while he focused his gaze intently on your lips that were swallowing up his cock. The tears that had welled up in your eyes began to fall down your cheeks at his rough treatment on your throat.
“Good girl, good fucking girl- almost- fuck-“ Gojo groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as his pace grew sloppy on your throat. The lack of oxygen was bringing you closer to your orgasm, but you so desperately wanted to watch him cum before Geto made you cum first.
Gojo fucked the entirety of his cock down your throat, pressing jus balls against your chin while he grit his teeth, feeling himself twitch in your warm mouth. “Fuuuuuck-“ The white haired man groaned, pulling his hips quickly back from your mouth and letting you cough freely as you swallowed air into your lungs.
Your hips pace against Geto’s mouth was sloppy, your body stuttering as you moved while her lips suction cupped around your clit and teased it with her wet tongue. You turned your head to look down at her, making contact with her glassy eyes and her furrowed brows as she nodded at you, moaning against your wetness.
The sight sent you over the edge, you gripped her hair tightly between your fingers, your nails digging into her scalp in unison as you squirted all over her face. She pulled her mouth and hand she was working on herself back as she fucked her fingers directly into your sweet spot while rubbing quickly back and forth over your sensitive clit, making your juices spray on her.
Gojo stroked his cock next to your face furiously, looking down at your pussy as you squirted all over his best friends face. “Fuckk,” he groaned, grabbing your face in his hand he turned your head to look up at him.
Your eyes were foggy and all out of focus from how hard you came, your body still shaking and twitching from the orgasm as Geto’s fingers fucked you through the aftershocks. “Tongue out.” Gojo grit through his teeth, biting his lip when you quickly obeyed.
“S-shit-“ The doctor tipped his head back as his jaw fell slack. He tapped his cockhead on your tongue, laying it flat on it before he stilled his hand. His hot ropes of cum spurted into your mouth as he groaned freely, fucking his hips into his hand as some streaks of his cum landed on your cheeks and hair. “How pretty.” Geto whined from under you; referring to the painting gojo was creating on your face.
Gojo’s body jerked and jolted as he came all over your face, his head tipping forward towards the end of his orgasm as he squeezed his cock up to the tip, making sure he gave you every last drop of his cum. “Shiiiit” the man giggled, watching you lean your head up and suck his tip clean before you pulled back, letting your head fall against the hard bed as you licked his cum off your lips. “Could she be any more perfect?” he said to Geto.
You were too fucked out to notice that Gojo was still hard, even though he just came. Geto stood up from between your legs, sliding her tights and panties off in the process as she kicked them to some corner of the room. “Well let’s find out.” She answered, giving Gojo a quick smirk before she straddled your limp body.
Without so much as saying a word, she grabbed your cum covered face in her hands and licked Gojo’s cum off your cheeks, making you blush. “Cum hungry slut.” Gojo laughed at his best friend's shameless display of lust. “It’s not for me, freak.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Want this cutie to taste herself, and you when I kiss her.” She said, giving you no room to talk as she pressed her lips against yours.
“fuck yeahh~” Gojo laughed, a drunken smile spreading itself over his face while he watched Geto suck your tongue, making you taste yourself mixed with Gojo’s cum. She pulled back after a while, a string of saliva connecting the two of you as you stared at her with a fucked out expression, “How does that taste?” she asked, keeping her strong grip on your chin as she awaited your answer.
“‘S fucking good, t-thank you.” you slurred, your own aroused smile spreading across your face. She smiled at you, pressing her lips to yours once more in a sweeter kiss before she pulled back, humming when your hands came to rest on top of her thighs. "I know thats fucking right~" Gojo added, beginning to stroke himself again, shamelessly walking over to the bottom half of your body so he could stare at your soaked pussy and the wetness that was smeared all over your thighs.
"It's missing something though.." You continued, watching your hands stroke along her soft pale thighs. She tilted her head at you, waiting for you to continue. "I didn't taste you." You said. Your sudden bold words made her feel like a dozen butterflies had just been hatched and were bouncing inside her stomach. "Yeah? You wanna taste me?" She said, sitting up straight as she rubbed her fingers over your wet lips.
You opened her mouth for her and she slipped her fingers inside the warmth as you did so, her jaw dropping and a crimson blush spreading across her face at how eagerly you sucked down her fingers. "That's a good idea!" Gojo exclaimed, spreading your thighs apart as he pushed them over his shoulders, making himself home between your legs.
You couldn't see him very well because of Geto straddling you, but you felt his plush lips leave soft kisses and bites against your calf and ankle before you felt something else. His dripping cock head was tapping against your folds as he used one hand to slowly rub his cock back and forth across your wetness. "Wanna eat the pretty nurse out while I fuck your cunt? Huh?" Gojo said, making you hum in approval around Geto's fingers.
You would be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous. You had barely been able to take Gojo's cock in your mouth, how on earth would you fit him inside your pussy? "Pretty nurse?" Geto laughed, twisting her body to give Gojo a look of incredulousness. He reached out and squished her soft cheeks in between his hands, shaking her head back and forth a little as he did so, making her face go deadpan. "Yes~ You're such a pretty nurse~" He said, scrunching his nose at her childishly while he did so.
She used her free hand to smack his wrist away before her hand came to rub her own jaw and soothe it from his harsh grip. "I can't stand you," Geto said, rolling her eyes before she flipped her hair in his face, turning her body back to you to watch you suck on her fingers some more. Their banter eased some of the anxiety you were feeling, you were glad they weren't so serious. "And yet you're about to fuck this pretty girl with me~" Gojo cooed, gripping his large hand on the back of her neck as he rubbed his thumb against the skin there.
"I'm separating myself from you at this moment." She said, biting her lip in irritation as she let Gojo massage her neck, unwilling to tell him to stop as the sensation actually felt pleasant. She brought her full attention back down to you, popping her fingers out of her mouth before she crossed her arms over her body and pulled the long sleeve white dress off of her body, discarding it on the floor.
Her breasts bounced animatedly when she removed the fabric, her tits practically spilling out of her bra when she shimmied further up your body, now hovering over your collarbones in nothing but the white bra. You bit your lip as Gojo had begun pressing his cock against your clit and rubbed it in circles, sending pleasure to the both of you.
"Geto please." You wined, your mouth practically drooling with the sight of her cunt being so close to your mouth. "What do you need?" She asked, bringing her fingers wet with your saliva down to rub her clit above you. Gojo shook his head at the scene, stroking himself harder as he continued pressing his cockhead against your little bud. You clenched around nothing at the need to feel him inside you combined with the need to have Geto sit on your face already.
"Wanna eat you out, please." You moaned, wrapping your arms under her thighs as you tried to pull her down on your face. She smiled down at you, feeling herself grow wetter at your words. Gojo wasn't helping in the slightest, he used his thumb to spread your pussy apart and had started to press his tip against your hole, almost letting it slip in before he pulled back. "She sounds so good when she begs," Gojo said, keeping his eyes glued to where the two of you were about to be connected.
"I think so too~" Geto agreed, sliding her fingers down her pussy as she pressed her fingers against her opening, letting them slide inside herself as she tipped her head back. You watched with a slack jaw as she fingered herself on top of you, your mouth watered every time she pulled her fingers out and saw how they were coated with her wetness. "Gojo- Geto- please," You begged, needing to feel some sort of stimulation from someone.
"Gojo p-please fuck me- c-cant take it." you continued, looking between Geto's eyes and her dripping cunt as soft moans fell from her lips and flooded your ears. "Watching her get off is makin' you all horny huh?" He teased, watching your lower body squirm as you tried to press yourself against Gojo and slip his cock inside of you. "Y-yes" You felt the tears start to well up in your eyes with how bad you needed them, the sight made Geto furrow he brows and coo above you.
"Aww, Gojo, she's crying." She said, giggling. The man behind you let out a loud groan as he gripped his cock harder in his hold. "Fuck, really?" He said, his arousal very evident in his tone. "Maybe we should stop teasing her then." He said, pressing his tip harder against your entrance and making you think he was really going to give it to you that time. "Yesyesyes" You slurred, rolling your hips against Gojo as he finally let his tip slide inside you.
You accidentally let out a too-loud moan at the stimulation, making Geto 'tsk' down at you. "Shut her up Suguru, she's gonna get even louder in a minute." Gojo grit through his teeth, holding the base of his cock tightly to prevent him from cumming prematurely as he slid his cock deeper into your walls. Your chest rose and fell quickly the deeper he gave it to you, the ache in your pelvis slowly subsiding.
"Yeah yeah." She said, rolling her eyes before she removed her fingers from herself and licked them clean, moving her body up to straddle your mouth while she pressed her hands next to your head to steady herself. "Just so you know, if it were up to me, I would be teasing you for hours." She said smugly, before finally, finally dropping her weight and pressing her cunt against your mouth.
She did so a the perfect timing too, right when Gojo bottomed out. Meaning you moaned long and loudly against her cunt, making her shiver at the intensity of the vibrations. "Oh fuc-kk, so fucking tight." Gojo moaned, tipping his head back and shutting his eyes as he let the both of you adjust to the feeling and girth of him stretching out your walls.
You tried to squeeze your thighs together but to no avail, as Gojo held them apart, gripping your thighs that hung over his shoulders. Geto wasted no time in rocking her hips against your mouth, moving one of her hands to grip itself in your hair as your lips came to suck on her neglected clit. Her taste was just what you were missing, you wanted to keep your eyes on hers but the attention from the both of them was too much, making you roll your eyes back in your head.
"Oh s-shit." She wined, biting her lip as you ate her out with vigor. "Gonna move now," Gojo warned before he started up a brutal pace on your cunt. Loud squelches and slaps echoed through the small room with the intensity of his thrusts, making Geto chastise him, "G-gojo too f-fucking loud."
"I don't give a fuck," He groaned, dropping his chin as he stared down at your cunt, watching a ring of your cum form around the base of his thick cock. "I dare someone to say shit to me." The doctor added, dropping one of his hands down to where the two of you were connected as he started rubbing his thumb in delicious circles against your clit, making you wine and moan into Geto's pussy.
She was leaking so much into your mouth, so much so that you had no more doubts in your mind or anxieties about not being able to make her feel good. She was gasping and moaning on top of you, all of her snarky comments flooding from her brain at the way your tongue was fucking her stupid. She rocked her clit against the tip of her nose, making her stomach clench and her body jerk over you every time her hips humped forward.
"Fucking hypocrite." Gojo huffed out a short laugh, reaching his other hand around Geto's mouth as he covered it, quieting her moans as they became muffled against his palm. "Some noisy fucking ladies you are~" He cooed. The squelching between your legs increased as he fucked into you with more vigor. "You like bein' used like this? Huh?" Gojo asked, rubbing your clit with pinpoint precision and making your eyes roll back in your head. "Squeezin' me so tight down here feels like you're tryna milk me." The doctor laughed, his jaw-dropping in a small o when your cunt squeezed around him particularly hard.
"Too bad you're not on birth control now or id fill this pretty cunt up." He said, shaking his head in disbelief at how good you felt around him. Geto's moans increased when your tongue fucked into her deeper, Gojo's words heightening your arousal. "Bet you'd like that huh?" His filthy mouth continued. "Your doctor cumming inside your perfect little cunt while Nurse Geto fucks your face." His own eyes rolled back at his words, he felt his cock twitch with how badly he wished he could fill you up.
Geto's other hand that was stabilizing herself by your head came up to grip Gojo's wrists, the volume of her moans getting louder against the palm of his hand; simultaneously her hips started losing their rhythm on your face. "Shit" Gojo laughed, "Think you're gonna make her cum." He said, which made you increase your antic on her cunt, opting to suck her clit back into your mouth so she didn't have to strain her thighs by humping against your face.
That was the right call, her body stopped being able to grind against you the closer she got to her orgasm, her hips jolted and jerked against your mouth as she gripped harder onto Gojo's wrist. "Yeah yeah give it to her, cum in her fucking mouth." Gojo groaned, talking her through it while you encouraged her from below, moaning "mhm-mhm." Into her wetness.
Gojo pressed his balls as hard as he could against your ass as he fucked his cock to the hilt inside of you and stilled there, waiting for Geto's orgasm to finish. The woman could be heard moaning profanities mixed with your name into Gojo's palm as you sucked the orgasm out of her, her body curled in on itself as her high rippled through her. Every time she jerked forward, a bit of her cum spurted itself into your mouth. You slowed your tongue against her as her body's jerking got less and less frequent, until her shaking stopped altogether.
Gojo removed his hand from her mouth as she collapsed down on the side of you, breathing heavily. "Holy fuck, no one ever made me cum that hard." She confessed, clenching her thighs together in the aftershocks as you smiled at her drunkenly. "You're so pretty." She said, sliding her body down so she was laying the side of you, one knee thrown over your body as she caressed your cheek in her hand and combined your lips together in a kiss.
"Aww, so sweet." Gojo cooed, biting his lip and smiling before he resumed his pace on your cunt, making you pull back from the kiss as you moaned loudly. "Asshole, we were having a moment." Geto chastized, rolling her eyes at his childish behavior. "I was feeling left out." He whined, rolling his hips against yours and creating delicious friction against your sweet spot inside you. "That feel good?" He asked, finally being able to see your pretty, fucked out face.
"Y-yes, so good Doctor G-gojo." Once again, the inappropriate use of his title made his cock throb unreasonably hard; he wouldn't look too hard into it. "Fuck, you really are so pretty." He said, shaking his head at how gorgeous you looked with your pace covered in Geto's cum, your eyes all out of focus, and your hair going in every direction from the face fucking. "Geto," Gojo started, making the dark-haired woman lay her face against the crook of your neck while she looked down at him.
"Keep her quiet." He instructed once more. She did not need to be told twice. Lifting her head, she once again pressed your lips together and slotted your lips together slowly, tasting herself on your tongue. "S-so sweet." You whined, making her giggle against your lips. "Thank you, baby." She replied, swallowing up your moans as Gojo fucked you with more vigor.
"Shiiit, wish I was fucking recording this right now." Gojo wined, pulling his lip between his teeth, "You guys making out is so fucking hot." He said, rubbing his thumb on your clit harder and faster as he brought the both of you to your impending orgasms. The way your cunt pulsed rhythmically was the first clue that you were about to make a mess on his cock.
"S-shit, gonna squirt again? Huh? Gonna squirt all over my cock this time?" Gojo questioned, his teasing tone making the coil in your tummy tighten. You pulled back from Geto's lips, making eye contact with him. "Y-yes sir." You wined. The new name caught him off guard, but he was in no universe complaining. "Yeah? Good fucking girl let me see it then, wanna feel you cum all over my cock." He moaned, his hips stuttering as his pace lost its rhythm.
Geto cupper her hand over your mouth and stared her dark eyes into yours, "You can do it baby, cum all over him, just like you did on my mouth." You blushed at their words, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening before Geto was dropping her head down to your nipple, and sucking, and thats all it took.
"Fuck yeahhh~" Gojo moaned, rubbing his fingers back and forth over your clit as you came around his cock, your squirt wetting his abdomen and slacks alike with the intensity of your orgasm. Geto moaned around your nipple, her other hand coming to pinch the other between her fingers as the two of them worked you through it.
About halfway through your orgasm, Gojo pulled out. The doctor kept up his fingers against your clit, his movements getting sloppy as he jerked himself off over your tummy, "fuck- fuck cumming, cumming-" He warned before he released his hot seed on your tummy. His body jerked forward and his abs clenched as he spurted long ropes of his cum onto your skin, his eyes rolling back in his head as he pictured behind his eyelids that he was filling you up with his cum and not wasting it like this.
Despite that fact, he just had one of the most intense and satisfying orgasms he has ever had. "Holy fuck." The man groaned, his eyes rolling back into place from the back of his head as he came down from his high. He let your legs drop from his shoulders and onto the bed as his hands chased them, squeezing the fat of your thighs to stabilize himself.
The both of you breathed heavily into the small room, and the three of you stayed silent as you let your souls find their way back into your body, Geto popped off of your nipples after a couple seconds and rested her head against your collarbones while she waited for the two of you to calm down.
"Wow." Your voice could be heard throughout the room, breaking the silence, and making the two of them laugh. "Couldn't have said it better myself." Gojo snorted. "Oh shit, what about the other patients." You said panicked, sitting up on your forearms as the woman lying on your chest was pushed up with you. "Shhh, it's okay," Gojo cooed, rubbing your thighs as he ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "You were my last patient." He said, making you sigh in relief. "I think." He finished, making both you and Geto drop your jaws simultaneously.
"Youre so irrisponsibale." Geto said, shaking her head as she caressed your tummy. "Say that when you're not lying on the hospital bed naked and covered in cum with a patient." He said, tilting his head to the side as he let his eyes fall shut and smiled. She just narrowed her eyes at him as he tucked his softening cock back into his pants before he started to make himself look presentable again.
Once he was finished he gathered Geto's and your clothes from the floor and leaned over you, placing his hand on your thigh as he leaned his face just inches from yours, "You did so fucking well." He said before he leaned in and gave you a soft kiss before pulling away and staring into your eyes intimately, "Just in case you were having any doubts." He added before leaning away completely and turning to untie the curtain that blocked the three of you off from the rest of the room.
Geto made herself comfortable behind you as she watched Gojo tidy up the room, laying her head on your shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your naked body. "Are you guys gonna stay there forever or?" He asked once he had made the room look like three people didn't just fuck in it. Geto looked up at the ceiling, contemplating her answer before she answered, "Mmm, I think so, yeah." She finally said, kissing your shoulder and making you giggle before she slid out from behind you and started dressing herself again; making you follow her lead.
After you had gotten dressed again; and fixed Geto's hair per her request; Gojo cleared his throat before speaking, "I'll put in a good request for a transfer so you can follow up with a good friend of mine about that IUD." He said too formally, making you panic slightly. Of course, he didn't want you to be his patient anymore, it would be inappropriate, but damn did it hurt. "Did.. did I do something wrong?" You asked insecurely, making the two of them tilt their heads at you.
"Well, I don't know about Geto.." He started, making you hold your breath at the impending rejection, "But I like where this relationship is headed, so I don't think it appropriate for us to stay Doctor/Nurse and patient if want to see where this goes," He said, making Geto smile and nod in agreement, "If, that's something you want." He finished.
"You could've led with that." You said, heaving out a sigh that made the both of them laugh. "Yeah, that's my fault~" Gojo laughed, rubbing his large hand on the back of his neck. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm rushing I just.." He scrunches up his face before speaking, "I guess I've been getting paged for the last half hour about another patient I allegedly had after you." He said, a nervous smile plastering itself over his face, making Geto facepalm.
"Scram, I'll take over from here and meet you in a second," Geto said, to which Gojo placed his hand on her shoulder and thanked her dramatically. The tall man walked up to you, grabbing your hips in his large hands before he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, using his thumb to pull down your bottom lip when he pulled away. "Text me when you get that IUD and ill show you how good gettin' your pussy filled with cum can feel~" He said confidently, leaving a peck on your lips before he spoke one last thanks to Geto, and was out the door.
"I'll take good care of you, let's get our digits in that phone of yours and we can start on the transfer resuest~" Geto cooed, holding her hand out for you to place your phone in.
You might have left the building with one less doctor than you had when you came in, but you left with two potential partners, and that was more than fine with you.
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i-yap · 4 months
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Jason thoughts with reader
unlike dick, he NEEDS PDA. just hold onto his arm, hand , ( may make a post on this specifically if u guys want?) . will randomly come behind you and place his head on your shoulder and glare at whoever stole your attention from him. will make u sit on his lap, will makeout with you ( but will hide you from public view Ex. have u pressed against a wall while he kisses you his tall frame hiding you from view) Refuses to leave you even for a second, hates being with other people when u guys can just be alone together.
wants to do childish stuff with you or likes it when u make him do childish stuff. acting like kids in love, running around being free and happy and together . he never rlly had all that before meeting you .
stares...a lot. after a long crime fighting night he is sitting on the kitchen stool watching u make your morning coffee and he just feels so warm and in love ...its like chocking on sunshine. He gets so overwhelmed by it he just needs to look away for a second to pull himself together. He wont ever tell you why he is staring ..may make a stupid quip like " just wondering why your face so weird" " weren't you just quoting me poetry on how my face rivals heavens last night jay?" "no shutup ur delusional".
Which brings me to - playful roasting. oh god he will roast u all the time but you can always tell he is joking. has that stupid smirk and even a small stutter sometimes. Cause he wanted to tell you he loves when u hug him and it may just heal him but instead he says " Le-leave me you si-silly uh MONKEY..yea monkey" but he is holding you so tight and blushing like crazy.
doesn't sexually tease you, straight up says the most vulgar things very randomly like " damn this dressing table looks nice, we could get a mirror too so that I can see your tits as I fuck you from behind on this thing " at a home depot. does not care where you guys are. does not blush, does not smile its like he is straight up listing facts.
Jason blushes a lot . catch him off guard and he is red as a tomato
you guys seem to really prefer jason over dick and the other characters..sad sort of I like writing dick a lot .
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