❥ olderbf!kuna sees you without makeup for the first time (cw: shyinsecure!reader)
you were standing outside of your boyfriend’s apartment, waiting patiently, you held onto the strap of your overnight bag with so much emotion.
it’s your first time spending the night at his place. you hear his footsteps get closer. you anxiously take out your phone and get a quick good look at your appearance, i mean, you might lose your virginity tonight?
shit.
you’re completely barefaced. not even a coat of mascara. you look like a complete mess.
before you could dig something out of your bag. sukuna was towering over you. “hey” he says softly, the corners of his mouth twitched at the sight of you.
you don’t speak at first—you don’t even look him in the eye, your eyes glue themselves to the ground.
the shame and embarrassment you felt burned. it felt like your face was on fire. so many thoughts kept crossing your mind.
would your boyfriend still have feelings for you if he knew how you really looked?
would he still be attracted to you if he saw your body bare.
would he still hug and kiss you?
would he still find you beautiful?
would he even want to be around you if he saw all your imperfections?
would ryomen sukuna still love you if he saw you..?
you nervously chewed at your bottom lip, blood threatened to show.
“brat.” he lifts up your chin. “why are you hiding your face from me. what’s the matter?”
your eyes fill with salty tears that threaten to fall at any moment “i- can’t you see? i’m n-not pretty.” your eyes still don’t meet his.
sukuna felt his heart drop all the way down to his feet. you don’t think your beautiful?
how could you not see the beauty you carry within yourself?
you’re the most precious thing to him ever.
you’re his pretty girl.
“is that what this is about? sweetheart c’mon” he pulls you inside, flush against him, your face presses against his broad chest, his palms rub soothing circles on your hips. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry— sniffle— you have to see me like this.” your fingers clutch onto the thin fabric of his t-shirt.
your warm tears seep through. soaking the fabric.
“stop apologizing and look at me, let me see your face.” you slowly lift your head up, fully staring into his red irises.
“you are so incredibly precious to me, it pains me to know you feel that way about yourself—how can you not see the beauty in yourself ?” his thumb gently caresses your face, wiping all those sad tears away.
“and ‘m not the only who sees it y’know? you got no idea how many stares you get from everyone around you.” he smirks “just the other day that guy was hittin’ on you thinkin’ he stood a chance tch.” you give him a sweet smile, tugging him closer. “you really should be more cocky.” he pokes your cheek.
“thank you ryo. i’m sorry if this upset you, or caused you any trouble.” you mumbled quietly.
“you just keep on apologizing? you sure are a damn pathetic brat” he laughs mockingly, ruffling the top of your hair.
you smile, burying your face into his chest. “don’t make fun of me kuna!”
18+ ⸝⸝⸝ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 is not okay after making out with nerd!reader. it’s worse when you show up at his door…
part 1 | part 2 below | part 3 | part 4
you don’t dare speak about it—about the way his body betrayed him, about the heat that flooded the room before either of you knew what to do with it.
until a week passes.
sukuna seems… alarmingly different.
he’s tense and distant, like he’s keeping himself out of your reach on purpose.
he used to show up at your dorm unannounced, leaning in your doorway like he belonged there, asking what you were studying before plopping onto your plushie filled bed like it was his.
now there’s barely anything.
no late night knocks at your door when you were supposed to be studying. no lazy texts. not even his familiar presence lurking outside your lectures to scare people away.
you find yourself replaying everything, searching for where you might’ve gone wrong. had you’d embarrassed him? made him angry? crossed some line you hadn’t even known was there?
so now you standing outside his dorm.
you’d been here for a full three minutes.
you don’t even know why you’re here. panic, probably. impulse. the gnawing fear that if you don’t do something, the distance would harden into something permanent.
you smooth your sweater down for the third time, push your glasses up your nose, then knock before you can talk yourself out of it.
once. then twice.
footsteps approach on the other side of the door.
it opens—and sukuna freezes.
he looks like he’s been caught doing something illegal. eyes widening just a fraction, posture stiffening like he doesn’t quite know where to put himself. his hair’s messy, like he’s been running his hands through it too much.
and he’s shirtless.
your brain short circuits.
you’ve seen him in tank tops, loose shirts, jackets half zipped—but this is different. bare skin, sharp lines of muscle you absolutely were not prepared for. your gaze drops before you can stop it, then snaps back up, mortified.
“oh—” you blurt. “i’m sorry, i didn’t— i can go—”
his brain tries to catch up to the fact you’re literally standing in front of him, but all he can seem to focus on are your eyes glued to his bare chest, lips parted like you’re trying—and failing—to keep from staring.
“no.” too quick. he clears his throat, jaw tightening. “it’s fine.”
it very much does not feel fine to either of you.
the silence stretches. uncomfortable. heavy. you’re suddenly acutely aware of how close you are, of how warm the hallway feels, of how you can’t quite stop yourself from staring even when you try.
you swallow.
“i just…” your fingers curl into the hem of your sweater. you take a deep breath and manage to spit it out. “you’ve been avoiding me.”
his expression flickers—something sharp passing through it before he schools it back into neutrality.
“haven’t been avoiding you.”
right.
that hurts more than you expect.
“oh.” you nod, too fast. “okay. i just— you used to come by all the time and then you stopped and i thought maybe i…” your voice falters. “did i do something wrong?”
the question hangs there.
for a split second, he looks genuinely appalled.
“what?” he snaps, then catches himself. “no. no— you didn’t.” immediately, firmly. like the idea offends him. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”
your shoulders loosen just a little, though your heart is still pounding.
“then why—”
he looks away, hand lifting to rub the back of his neck. you notice how tense he is now, how carefully he’s standing, like he’s trying not to move too much.
“i just needed space,” he says finally. not meeting your eyes. “that’s all.”
it’s not an answer, not really. it feels purposefully incomplete.
you hesitate, then nod. “okay.”
another pause. thicker this time.
you shift your weight, eyes betraying you again, flicking briefly—accidentally—over his chest before you can stop yourself. heat floods your face instantly.
he notices.
his jaw tightens, breath hitching just enough to give him away. he takes a subtle step back, like he’s putting distance between you on purpose.
and suddenly, the explanation doesn’t sit right.
“space from… me?” you ask quietly.
he stiffens.
“no,” he says too fast. then corrects himself, slower. “not from you.”
you frown, fingers curling into your sleeves. “then what?”
he doesn’t answer right away. his gaze drifts past you, down the hall, anywhere but your face. the silence stretches long enough to make your chest ache.
“you don’t just disappear for a week for no reason,” you say, sterner now. “if i did something, i’d rather know.”
his eyes snap back to you. you almost wish they hadn’t. there’s something raw there, something tightly leashed.
“you really think that?” he asks, low.
you shrug, small, looking down and mumbling. “i don’t know. i overthink. you know that.”
that seems to hit him harder than anything else you’ve said.
he does know that. and the thought of you agonizing over this, wondering what you did wrong is enough to make him flinch. he’s been trying to keep his distance, avoid temptation, but here you are, standing in your goddamn oversized sweater like this is just an everyday conversation.
he almost laughs. there’s nothing everyday about badly he wants you right now, how much he aches to pull you in.
he exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “you didn’t do anything,” he says again, firmer. “i’m not mad at you. i just… needed to get my head straight.”
“about what?” you press, heart thudding.
another pause.
he takes a step back, then another, stopping just inside the doorway. like he’s choosing distance on purpose.
“…about you,” he admits, barely above a mutter.
“me?”
he swallows, jaw flexing. “don’t make me spell it out.”
that only makes your confusion worse.
“i don’t understand,” you say honestly. “you’re acting like i did something wrong, but you keep saying i didn’t.”
his mouth twitches, almost a smile, but there’s no humor in it.
“yeah,” he says. “that’s kind of the problem.”
he finally looks at you again, really looks—eyes dark, expression strained, like he’s holding something back by sheer force of will.
“…i didn’t want to scare you off,” he says.
the words are soft but they hit harder than anything else he could’ve said.
you blink. “scare me off how?”
his jaw tightens immediately, regret flashing across his face like he’s said too much. he exhales through his nose, slow and controlled, like he’s trying not to unravel.
“by being too much.”
you stare at him, genuinely baffled. sukuna? scared of being too much? the guy who never hesitates, never second guesses, himself, never backs down?
you scoff. you’ve gotten used to him. what was his problem now? “you couldn’t scare me even if you tried.”
he laughs, dry and low, a sound that’s part exasperation, part disbelief. it’s not a full laugh—more like the sound of someone trying to keep himself from unraveling. then he pulls himself back into his room and plops back onto his bed, hands covering his face, letting out a long, slow breath.
you follow him inside, closing the door behind you, heart hammering. you try not to look—really try—but it’s hard not to notice the way his torso stretches across the bed, the faint trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of his sweatpants, and the way his muscles flex even as he’s slumped down.
your stomach twists, and you force yourself to stare at his hands instead, at the way they lace together over his face in frustration.
he mutters, voice muffled through his hands, “fuck. it’s just… i’ve been holding back from doing things i shouldn’t.”
your stomach flips, and for a moment your brain freezes. heat rushes to your cheeks in realization, heart hammering. you know exactly what he’s talking about.
it takes a second for your words to catch up.
“but— what if i… what if that’s something i want?”
he freezes. his jaw tightens, eyes widening in disbelief. “what?” he manages, voice rough. “you… you want it?”
you nod, blinking rapidly, suddenly very aware of how close you’ve gotten to him. “uh huh,” you admit quietly. “i want you.”
he blinks again, then leans back slightly, running a hand through his messy hair, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “seriously? why? fuck— i still don’t even know why you like me. why you’re with me.”
you bite your lip, fiddling with your sleeves. “because… you’re… nice,” you say softly, like it’s almost too simple to say aloud.
he freezes mid motion, hand hovering over his head. “me?” he repeats, incredulous. “nice? i’m nice? don’t call me nice, nerd.”
you nod vehemently again, cheeks heating further at the name he always lets slip. “…yeah. you are.”
he lets out a short, harsh laugh, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it. “nah,” he says, voice almost bitter, “that can’t be true.”
“it is,” you insist. “you noticed me. spent time with me when i was lonely. you were the first guy who called me cute. you didn’t use me for help like other people do because i’m a nerd. you—”
“stop.” the word cuts through sharp. “only i can call you that.”
before you can even process it, he’s moving—hands on your waist and pulling you forward. you barely have time to gasp before you’re settled onto his lap, knees bracketing his thighs, your hands instinctively flying out to brace against his shoulders.
you freeze.
so does he.
for half a second, neither of you breathe.
his grip is tight, like he’s afraid if he loosens it even a little, he’ll lose you—or himself. his chest rises beneath you, warm and solid, and the closeness hits you all at once. too close. way too close.
“don’t,” he mutters, low and strained. “don’t say shit like that like i’m some good guy. like i deserve you.”
your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can feel it.
“why?” you whisper, eyes wide behind your glasses. “i’m just telling the truth.”
his jaw clenches. he looks everywhere but your face—your shoulder, the door, the wall behind you—like meeting your eyes might be the last straw.
“because i can’t—” he cuts himself off, swearing under his breath. “because you’re making this really fucking difficult.”
“it doesn’t have to be difficult! i’m telling you i want you sukuna,” you reply, just as exasperated.
“you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
there’s a beat.
you swallow, nerves buzzing, and shake your head—small, but sure. “but i do,” you say quietly. “i know what i’m asking for.”
that finally gets him to look at you.
really look at you.
your words hang in the air soft, but unshakable. and for the first time since you walked in, he doesn’t look away. his fingers twitch against your hips like he’s fighting the urge to pull you closer or push you off entirely.
“you don’t know what i want,” he mutters, voice rougher now. “what i need.”
“then tell me.”
his eyes drop to your lips, then back up—and something in him cracks.
“i want to kiss every part of you until you can’t say my name without shaking,” he says low, “i want to make sure everyone knows whose girl you are just by looking at how i touch you. i want… all of it.”
he swallows hard—like admitting that terrifies him more than anything else ever has.
“so no. you only think you know what you’re asking for.”
your pulse skyrockets—but instead of pulling back, your hands slide up his shoulders and settle behind his neck.
“i’m still not going anywhere.”
he stares at you like you’re a miracle wrapped in glasses and an oversized sweater that drives him wild.
“i’ve thought about that too…” you admit.
that seems to knock the air out of him.
he stares at you for a long second, like he’s trying to decide if you’re serious—or if he misheard you entirely.
“…really?”
you nod, nails curling into his skin without realizing it. “really.”
his throat bobs as he swallows. his hands stay at your waist, firm but still restrained, like he’s holding onto the last thread of his self control.
“you really shouldn’t say stuff like that,” he says again, quieter now. not a warning. more like a confession. “i just… i don’t want to be that guy who takes advantage of you.”
“but you’re not taking advantage of me! i- i may not have any experience but i’m not clueless.”
he exhales sharply through his nose, eyes flicking over your face like he’s measuring something fragile.
“are you sure?” he asks, slower now. “you get flustered just kissing. i don’t want you regretting anything.”
your face goes hot instantly. “i— that’s not—”
he watches the way you stumble over your words, like it proves his point. “see?” he mutters. “that’s what i mean.”
something in you sparks, embarrassment tipping into indignation.
“you’re one to talk,” you blurt. “you’re acting like i’m—” you stop yourself for half a second, then barrel on, flustered and bold all at once. “you’re the one who got hard when we were making out!”
his eyes go wide—dark, sharp, and utterly unguarded—and for a moment he just stares at you, jaw tight, like he can’t believe you actually said those crude little words.
“…what?” he mutters, voice low, rough, almost strangled.
you blush harder, looking anywhere but him. “you heard me.”
he swallows audibly, like he’s trying to force down the heat rising in him. for half a second, he doesn’t move. then, one hand shoots up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“…you have no idea what you’re asking for,” he growls, voice husky. “i shouldn’t— i can’t—”
“i said i know!” you snap back, trembling. “i know what i’m asking for! how many times do i need to say it?”
that seems to finally break something in him.
his free hand cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek, and before you can even think his lips are on yours.
it’s fierce, unrestrained, and utterly consuming.
you freeze for a fraction of a second—then melt into him, hands gripping his shoulders as his body presses against yours. the world narrows to the heat of him, the brush of his lips, the way his chest rises beneath you.
he breaks the kiss only to drag it along your jaw, teeth grazing your bottom lip, thumb stroking your cheekbone, eyes dark and desperate. “you have no idea what you just said,” he growls, voice rough against your ear.
you shiver at the noise and the way his lips press against your jaw. your fingers tangle in the messy strands of his hair as heat blooms through you.
“i think i do.”
he chuckles—almost feral—and his hands tighten at your waist, sliding lower, thumbs brushing just over the curve of your hips. “you’re insane,” he groans, nipping lightly at your earlobe, “i’m losing my mind.”
he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and heated, pupils dilated. “you really want this?” he asks, voice rough, each word deliberate, testing you.
you nod, cheeks flushed, pulse pounding. “i do. i want you.”
that seems to push him over the edge. he presses you flush against him as his other hand frames your face again. his lips slam back onto yours with renewed force, teeth grazing, tongue teasing, each movement demanding and consuming.
your back arches instinctively, breath hitching, and he grunts deep in his throat. his hands roam, memorizing, claiming. the subtle heat of him—the firmness of his chest, the tautness of his muscles—makes it impossible to think.
“you’re gonna regret saying that,” he murmurs between kisses, but there’s no warning left in his tone—just raw, unrestrained need.
“i won’t,” you gasp, fingers clutching his hair tighter, body pressed impossibly close.
he hums against your lips, a sound of dark satisfaction, and for the first time, he lets himself stop holding back entirely, each kiss, each brush of his hands, pushing you both further into something you can’t—and don’t want to—escape.
he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, breath heavy, eyes dark and dangerous. a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“so you came here just for this, huh?”
your face heats, and you shake your head, fumbling over your words. “no! i… i didn’t! i just— wanted to…talk.”
he raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly on his elbows, still holding you close, grin widening. “talk,” he repeats, voice dripping with amusement. “right.”
you can’t help the small, nervous laugh that escapes. “i did! but—”
“but what?” he prompts.
“i just… didn’t expect… this to happen.”
his smirk softens just a fraction, though the dark amusement never fully leaves his eyes. “hm.”
he hums, mock contemplative, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with the back of his hand. “and here i thought you came just to drive me insane.”
you let out a small, exasperated sigh, shaking your head again. “i—i didn’t!”
his grin widens, wicked. “sure. keep telling yourself that.”
then, without warning, his thumb slides up and presses firmly against your kiss bitten bottom lip, pressing, dragging lightly, teasing.
you gasp, breath catching, eyes widening as heat floods through you. your fingers clench at his shoulders instinctively, heart hammering in your chest.
“…sukuna,” you whisper, voice trembling, “st-stop…”
he doesn’t stop. he just tilts his head, smirking down at you, eyes dark and calculating. “oh? thought you said you wanted this. thought you could handle it.”
you swallow hard and force your words out even as your chest hammers. “i- i can.”
his smirk twists wider, “oh? really?”
you nod, fingers digging into his shoulders. “yeah.”
he leans in closer. “then be specific,” he murmurs, thumb still teasing your bottom lip. “tell me what you can really handle.”
you swallow, cheeks burning hotter than ever, and finally whisper, “i- i can handle you touching me.”
his eyes widen ever so slightly, then narrow. “is that so?”
“uh huh.”
without warning, two of his calloused fingers slip between your lips, testing, pressing, and you instinctively part your mouth to welcome them.
he hums, low and approving, eyes locked on yours. “you really mean that,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers lightly over your tongue.
you nod, mouth full, unable to look away.
he chuckles, a dark, dangerous sound, and doesn’t pull away. instead, he tilts his head, pushing just a little further, pressing his fingers deeper into your mouth, making you gasp around them.
“good,” he grunts. “because once i start i wont stop.”
you shiver, heat pooling low in your tummy.
“suck them,” he orders, voice low and rough, almost a growl. your breath catches and you let out a startled sound around his digits. “don’t test me. i said suck.”
your body betrays you, hot and quivering on his lap, and you obey, lips hesitantly sucking his thick fingers. you squirm on top of him, suddenly imagining how they would feel inside you, the heat between you spreading, every nerve alight.
he hums approvingly once more, eyes locked on yours. “god… you’re so eager. you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
you whimper softly, cheeks burning, and before you can react, he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop.
before you can process it, he’s flipping you over onto his bed. your back hits the mattress, breath catching as he settles over you.
“we can go slow,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “tell me what you wanna do first.“
you gulp. you already know what you want. what you’ve wanted. your gaze drops to his fingers, still coated in your own saliva. “c-could you… um… finger me?”
he grunts roughly like the words kill him. “knew you’d say that.”
he shifts, one hand braced beside your head, the other hovering just above your waist—fingers still glistening from your mouth. his breath is uneven against your neck.
“say it again,” he growls. “say it like you mean it.”
you swallow hard, pulse roaring in your ears. “finger me?”
his eyes darken.
“again.”
your face burns, but you whisper it—bolder this time, “please sukuna...” you beg, “i want you to finger me.”
he makes a sound low in his throat—like he’s losing himself—and finally moves. one hand tugs gently at the hem of your sweater. “off,” he murmurs. “i wanna see you.”
trembling, you obey—lifting the fabric over your head and tossing it aside.
he sighs a curse under his breath. “look at this pretty little bra. wore this for me?”
you whimper. don’t answer because really, you don’t know. maybe you did.
he grins.
and then his hands are back on you—hot, slow—as one drifts to the waistband of your jeans that suddenly feel too tight.
“relax,” he murmurs against your lips.
your hands clutch his shoulders. “i’m trying,” you breathe, arching against him. he nips at your jaw, fingers dancing over the buttons of your jeans.
he chuckles, voice low and strained. “you’re so damn impatient.”
you whine and protest, “m’not.”
“mmm right.”
you shiver and he only smiles against your skin. and then, oh so slowly, he’s unbuttoning your jeans and pulling down its zipper.
he tugs them. “c’mon. lift your lips for me, baby.”
you do and then he tugs your jeans all the way down, slow and steady—leaving behind goosebumps in his path. your own breathing seems far too loud in the silence of his dorm.
the jeans hit the floor and you shift on his mattress, suddenly feeling too bare. too exposed.
he pulls back for a moment to look at you, at your flustered look and at the way your chest rises and falls. he looks just as wrecked, lips swollen, eyes intense, chest heaving.
he swallows.
“god. look at you.”
you cover your eyes over the frames of your glasses. you whine his name in embarrassment.
he catches your wrist, pulling your hand gently away from your face. “don’t,” he murmurs, voice rough but soft. “don’t hide.”
your breath hitches as he leans down, brushing his lips over the bridge of your nose, then the corner of your glasses.
“you’re so damn cute like this,” he admits, almost grudgingly. “all shy and flustered… wearing these thick glasses like you didn’t come here to ruin me.”
he kisses you—soft at first, then deeper.
“leave ‘em on,” he growls. “i wanna see you come apart with them all crooked on that pretty face.”
the unsolicited visual and his vulgar words make your cheeks heat even further.
you were gonna leave them on anyway.
you couldn’t see shit without them and he knew that.
a smirk quirks his lips, as if he’s reading that thought.
he kisses your jaw. your nose. then he makes his way down your neck, kissing your collarbone.
your breath hitches again, head tilting back to give him access—letting out a soft whimper as his mouth brushes your neck.
“so sensitive…” he murmurs between kisses.
his mouth keeps moving lower and lower—onto the valleys of your breasts. and then down to your stomach. his nose drags gently across it, electrifying every inch.
you can hardly breathe.
he trails kisses down your belly, fingers brushing your ribs, the skin there quivering under his touch. he pulls back to look at you. just looks. and you try not to squirm under the scrutiny.
you manage a breathless, “stop staring.”
he grins, dark and hungry. “make me.”
you try not to roll your eyes. you really do.
but he’ll be making them roll for a different reason soon anyways. he’s too close to where your aching cunt is leaking for him.
“sukuna…”
he hums. his hands flit to your panties. “want these off?”
you nod shyly.
and then you’re gasping, fingers curling into the sheets, head tilting back as his lips brush lightly over your hipbone. he peels off your panties little by little. your breathing is labored. you’re flushed. and he’s taking his sweet time with you.
it’s driving you nuts.
when they’re finally all the way off, you clench your thighs together feeling too exposed to him.
he clicks his tongue. “none of that,” he murmurs, pressing a hand to each thigh and gently forcing them apart. “you gotta let me see you if you wanna feel good.”
you gulp nervously. but still, you let him pry your legs apart without anymore resistance. his eyes darken once they fall onto your slick cunt. he can see the way you tremble and clenche around nothing.
you look at him. he looks back, a moment of quiet that makes the air seem heavier. he doesn’t say anything.
oh no. does he think it looks weird? ugly? you—
his words shut up your internal panic, “fuck. she’s so fucking pretty. can’t believe she’s this wet just for me…” his words come out almost strained.
the sound that leaves your lips would’ve been humiliating if you cared enough.
he finally reaches out, fingers finding your aching clit, making you jolt. he circles it once—slow, driving you mad—and you whimper, hips bucking without permission.
“ah-ah,” he murmurs, pressing down just a little harder. “stay still.”
your breath hitches. you try to obey.
he teases you like that for what feels like forever—light flicks, lazy circles—until you’re trembling and leaking onto his sheets.
only then does he slide his middle finger deep inside.
you cry out, back arching off the bed.
he groans at the sound—at how tight you are—and mutters against your thigh, “fuck… knew you’d feel this good.”
there was nothing—nothing at all—to prepare you for this moment. for how thick and long just one of his fingers were. you clench around him, eyes watering, breath coming in short gasps.
“too much?” he murmurs, watching your face like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
you shake your head—fast, desperate. “n-no… it’s just never— ah…”
your hands clutch helplessly at the sheets underneath you.
he crooks his finger inside you and you clench with a whimper.
“hmmm? your tiny fingers never reached this far, huh? is that what you’re tryna say?” he tuts and pouts mockingly, “i dunno if it can even fit another.”
you gasp at the words, jaw dropping.
“no! ‘kuna, please!”
“please what?” he drawls, slow and cruel, curling that finger just right—hitting a spot deep inside you that nobody has ever been, making your back arch off the bed. he thrusts it in and out slowly, hitting that sweet spot every time he gets deep enough. “you gotta be specific, baby. i’m not reading minds here.”
tears prick the corners of your eyes—half from sensation, half from frustration. his smirk widens.
“say it,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb over your swollen clit in maddening little circles. “tell me you want two fingers. tell me you want me to stretch you open.”
your breath hitches—you’re trembling all over now.
“ugh— pl-please ‘kuna? wanna try another—”
and oh… the way his nickname falls from your lips so sweetly because you can barely get the words out? how could he ever deny you?
he leans down to press a kiss to your trembling stomach.
“there we go… that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
he slips in a second finger and you cry out.
it burns—just a bit—and you can feel yourself clenching painfully around them.
he shushes you, his touch soft and soothing. he kisses anywhere he can reach. your stomach. your hip. the inside of your thigh.
“does it hurt, baby? should i slow down?”
you shake your head with teary eyes, legs threatening to close around his hand.
it like too much and too little all at once.
“no! ngh— i- i just need to get used to them— oh!”
your words die when he curls both his fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot when he moves just barely.
he grins, pleased.
you feel so damn tight around his fingers. he has to be careful not to let his eyes roll back at the sight of you.
“you want me to start moving them or do you need a minute, sweetheart?” he breathes out. you swear his voice is even raspier.
you try to ignore what the pet name does to you, your fingers reach for him desperately, needing something to cling to—he obliges by taking your hand.
“yeah? you need somethin’ to hold, baby?”
“mgh— y-yeah—” you whimper pitifully.
“yeah what? want me to move or keep holding ya?”
your bottom lip trembles. “both.”
“oh… mhm. that’s my smart girl.”
he starts to move—slow, deep curls inside you—and your whole body seizes at the sensation.
tears slip from the corners of your eyes again, and you squeeze his hand where it’s laced with yours like it’s keeping you grounded.
“you feel that?” he murmurs, watching your face with dark fascination. “me stretching you open? filling you up?”
he scissors his fingers inside you to puncture his words and a broken noise escapes your lips—half sob, half moan—as his fingers work deeper.
“that’s right,” he coaxes, thumb brushing over your clit again in slow circles. “just let go for me. take it. feel good?”
“y-yes! really good…” you moan.
and that little noise does him in.
he grits his teeth, hips jerking forward against the mattress on instinct. almost like he wants to replace his fingers with something much bigger.
“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, watching your puffy cunt clench around his fingers. “you say that like you wanna make me lose control.”
your only answer is a whimper as he picks up the pace—deeper, faster.
his thumb presses harder on your clit and your back arches violently off the bed.
“you gonna cum for me soon?” he grunts against you, the squelches in the room sickeningly pornographic. “i wanna feel it.”
you feel something inside you threatening to snap and you nod.
“good girl. you gonna cum and make a pretty face for me, hm?”
you can hardly speak. so you nod again.
he smiles at it. his pressure on your clit moves. you clench around him.
“y-yes! i’m—i’m gonna—”
your hips stutter, thighs trembling violently as his fingers work inside you, relentlessly.
“that’s it,” he grunts, voice rough with need. “cum on my fingers. let me feel how much you want it.”
you cry out his name as it hits—a sharp, bright wave unlike anything you’ve ever felt that crashes through your every nerve. your cunt clenches around him in hot pulses.
he doesn’t stop. keeps moving those fingers through it all, drawing the pleasure out until you’re gasping for air and thrashing under him, glasses fogging, still gripping his hand.
only when your whimpers turn shaky does he finally pull free—and even then, he drags them slowly across your clit one last time.
you shudder hard.
“look at this mess,” he murmurs darkly, lifting his glistening fingers to show you—then without breaking eye contact… he sucks them into his mouth.
your breath catches all over again.
he licks slow and deep like a fucking animal then smirks at the taste of you.
“sweet.”
“sukuna…” you pant, scandalized as if he hadn’t just been fingering you, moving your hands to push your glasses up.
he catches your hand before it reaches your face, guiding it back down.
“leave ‘em crooked,” he smiles against your neck. “i like you all messy like this. my pretty little nerd isn’t so proper now, is she?”
you whimper as his weight settles over you—hot, heavy, unmistakably hard where his cock grinds against your thigh.
he drags a rough kiss along your jaw. “still with me, baby?”
your fingers clutch his shoulders and you nod. “y-yeah...”
his grin is pure sin. or maybe that’s how you see it with what he’s just done.
“good.”
the way he looks at you—with pupils blown and lips still wet from tasting you—makes your cheeks flush all over again. your cunt still wet and sensitive and throbbing—and you can’t believe you’re about to say what comes next.
“wait… i— i wanna taste you too.”
he freezes.
his eyes widen and looks like he’s stopped breathing.
“...what?” he rasps, voice barely there.
you push up on your elbows, shaky but determined. “i want to taste you,” you repeat—softer this time, but still sure. “please…”
he stares at you like you’ve just ripped the world out from under him.
“fuck.” he laughs, runs a hand through his hair. “let’s save that for another day, yeah? let me get you cleaned up first.”
you pout.
but he’s already heading to his bathroom.
so much for post nut clarity.
maybe you should stick to not saying the first thing that comes to mind.
sukuna returns a beat later with a warm washcloth and a glass of water. he kneels beside the bed, helping you sit against the pillows. his touch on your skin is gentle. tender. you can barely meet his eyes as he works between your legs. he’s silent through the whole process, gently wiping, so tender it makes your chest hurt, handing you water to drink.
he tosses the cloth aside once he’s done and crawls into his bed with you.
your eyelids suddenly feel heavy. you hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.
“c’mon. get some rest. don’t you have an early lecture tomorrow?”
“uh huh…” you mumble. he knew your schedule better than he knew his own. “but you’re still hard…” you yawn, eyes already fluttering shut as your rest your head against his warm chest.
“shut up, brat.”
he gently takes off your glasses and sets them aside. pulls you closer so your head is tucked under his chin.
he feels you nuzzle into his body and he can’t fight the soft smile that tugs at his lips. he lets his arms curl around you protectively.
you let out a little sigh of contentment as you relax against him, feeling safer than ever.
he pulls you even closer, breathing you in, and eventually you fall asleep just like that—tucked in his arms.
>> next ch / series masterlist
shy series taglist! @gg-trini @luredlilac
also tagging people who commented for a part 2 (hope you guys don’t mind)🥹 @hoebiii @tobesocoldasyou @sloppyfrenchfries @iwantnewfyp @kiakiabby @silverserpentsofhogwarts @nutellajade @letiziabordas @userizzzzup @lost-fantasy @tewstupidfaman
taglist for pt 3 is closed (bc i’m loosing track of people to tag) but you can still be added to the shy!reader x jjk men taglist or my full taglist here!
also I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ALMOST A MONTH…😭 i hope it was worth the wait! this has to be one of the most favorite things i’ve written.
summary: a collection of their first times together. connected to my other shy!reader fic, but can be read as a standalone!
content: explicit 18+ MDNI. smut, oral (f receiving), tad of dry humping, unprotected p in v. brief mention of sexual assault (a patient, not reader), reader is a SANE.
wc: 8.9k
notes: thank u for the love on my first fic!! i thought id write a lil extra fic of this dynamic bc i also adore them.
masterlists
First Date
Jack is a traditional man, you’ve come to realise.
After the kiss, the invisible boundary stopping him from taking care of you the way he wanted had been broken, and he promises to care for you to the fullest extent, for as long as you’d let him.
Your schedules never seemed to align to both have a day off, and Jack was getting antsy at the prospect that he had kissed you days ago, but couldn’t take his girl out for a date.
A particularly stressful case one evening broke his patience.
An MVC trauma case had rolled in just before his shift was about to end, the man was in his late-thirties and the crash seemed to have paralysed his lower limbs. He worked to treat the most imminent problems, but Jack could tell the man knew what had happened to his legs, and was grieving silently.
Not long after he’s finished treating the man, a tall, blonde woman rushes into the trauma room just as Jack was about to exit, and the look on her face was fear followed by complete devastation. He watches her sob as she rounds the table to sit next to her partner, moving strands of hair away from his face so she can lean in and press her forehead against his.
Jack stands off to the side watching the scene unfolds, and his breath hitches as he hears the couples’ cries, their pleas of love for one another, the fear that she had almost lost him; lost him before they could finally get married, he overhears.
The woman promises that nothing could ever change the love she has for him, begging to scrap the big, fancy wedding they’d planned, wanting to elope, not bearing to waste another day of not being married to him.
Something twists low in his chest, patience wearing thin and excuses himself from the room, desperately needing to find you.
He couldn’t wait.
Jack’s shoulders are tight when he exits the trauma room, shaking his head and searching for you, hoping you hadn’t left for the day.
───
You’re zipping your bag up where it rests on your chair, when a low, familiar voice startles you from behind.
“What are you doing right now?”
“Uh, going home and sleeping. You should try it sometime, y’know–” You begin to tease back, turning to look at him, but his face is serious, tight, making you falter. You’re about to ask what had happened, never having seen him so disturbed.
He speaks before you can ask, shaking his head and commanding,
“No. C’mon, we’re grabbing food.” His voice is gravelly as he grabs your bag, slinging it over his shoulder, before picking up your coat holding it out for you to slip into it. Your heart warms at the sweet, domestic gesture. Nervously, and heavily blushing, you turn, and let him drape you in the coat. You move to take the bag from Jack, but he shakes his head, holding it tighter.
“Let’s go.” His voice is low, and you feel his hand rest on the small of your back, guiding you to the exit. You almost just let yourself fall into the comfort of allowing Jack to take over, enjoying not having to think for once.
“Jack– hold on.” You say a little flabbergasted. Shen and Lena give you both an amused look as you pass, clearly they seem to know what’s going on whilst you’re left in the dark.
“We’re exhausted, I look a mess right now– we just finished a 12 hour shift!” You try and reason with him as he hurriedly leads you to his truck.
“So?” He gives you a look that implies what you said has no grounds for protest, whatsoever.
You scoff, completely taken aback, and swivel to face him once you reach his truck, searching his face for an inkling of an idea as to what’s up with him.
“Jack–” You try, but he just leans past you, and opens the truck door for you, nodding his head signalling for you to hop in.
“First of all. You ain’t a mess, sweetheart.” He says, almost offended by the notion.
Once you’ve climbed into the seat, you watch as he reaches for the seatbelt and buckles you in, and before pulling away, he rests his forehead on yours and whispers, “You looking fuckin’ amazing all the time.”
You can't help but let out a flustered whine at his praise, blush covering your face as you meet his intense stare. His expression begins to soften once he looks you over, realising you’re finally here with him. He softly brushes a strand of hair away from your face.
“Diner food okay, doll?”
───
You feel the car come to a stop across the street from a 24/7 diner downtown, it’s cutesy, it has a retro feel to it. You go to open the door, but his hand gently catches your wrist mid-movement.
“Ah ah. Stay.” He commands with a soft-but-stern tone, willing you to obey.
You smile to yourself as you watch him round the hood of the truck, you’ve never received this kind of princess treatment, and your heart clenches. You thrum with anxiety as you wait for him to open your door, begging yourself to not make a fool of yourself and somehow faceplanting out of the truck.
Checking that no cars are passing, he opens the door and holds his hand out for you to take. You can’t stop your smile from growing or the heat covering your face, utterly touched by his gentlemanly gestures.
“You don’t have to do all this, you know?” Your voice is quiet, but slightly teasing as you hop out of the truck, holding his hand. “I already like you.”
Jack sighs when looks down at you, wrapping an arm around you to rest on your hip before moving you to the inner side of the sidewalk, away from the road.
“I ain’t doing this to impress ya.” He grumbles out, bringing his lips to your temple. “It’s how you deserve to be treated, honey.”
You’re speechless.
He needs to stop making you blush, you’re already flustered and overwhelmed by all of his actions within the short span of time you’ve left the ER, and the date has barely begun.
You’re barely able to focus or think straight, which is why when you reach the doors to the diner, you mistakenly make a move to open the door, and Jack almost hangs his head in soft frustration
“Sweetheart, c’mon.” He says in disbelief. You look up at him with a confused expression, watching as he enters your space, and opens the door for you. God, he’s so traditional. Your grin is wide as you stare at him, unable to keep it off your face as you enter the Diner.
You let him order first, as you stare up at the menu above the counter. You’d heard him order a savory dish, something with eggs. It’s healthy, and though you’d wanted something sweet like pancakes you start overthinking, not wanting to look unhealthy or childish in front of Jack, completely baseless worries.
He turns to look at you, seeing your brows are furrowed and a worried look paints your face as you’re trying to decide. He reaches back, squeezing your hand tilting his head. “Honey, get whatever ya want, yeah?”
Your smile is tight and shy again when you order the pancakes, nerves wracking your body for no good reason, just another moment anxiety seems to spike randomly.
“Will that be separate or together?” The cashier asks about payment whilst finishing up the order, and both you and Jack speak at the same time.
“Separate–”
“Together.”
His tone is final as he looks at you with an incredulous expression that you even tried to offer to pay on your first date. You begin to shake your head, feeling guilty about making him pay for you, but he taps his card and gives you a stern look.
While you’re waiting for the food he wraps you in his arms and whispers into your hair.
“Let me take care of you. Please.” His voice is gentle but pleading.
Your heart clenches as you look up at him from where you’re wrapped around him, face touching his chest. Vulnerability flickers in your eyes, unsure if you should admit to Jack just yet, how hard it is for you to let go and be cared for.
But he just smiles, patting your hair, and silently, you think he already knows.
Grabbing your food, you look for a place to sit, but you notice Jack is… walking out? You frown again, catching up to him with confusion painting your face. Did he not want to eat together? Had you completely misinterpreted this as a date? Maybe he just wanted to grab food before going home.
He snorts at the confusion, back tracking a little and cupping your face with one hand, a thumb stroking back and forth across your cheek.
“You think I was gonna take ya to a diner for our first date?” He croons, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Jesus, kid, who have you been hanging around with before me?”
───
What you hadn’t expected was for him to bring you to a remote spot that overlooked the city. It was still early in the morning, a fresh spring fog coating the city from above as you sat on a bench and had breakfast.
You’re too in your own head, you know this. But you can’t stop. You’re painfully aware that this is a date, you want to act the right way, say the right things, be charming, be funny. But it inevitably leads to complete silence from you and jumpy eyes darting around focusing on anywhere but him.
Sighing, he sets his takeout container on the bench beside him, before scooting closer to you.
“Hey, what’cha worrying about over there?” He nudges his knee with yours. He meets your eyes and finds insecurity and so much shyness. He tilts your head up using his fingers on your chin, making sure you really hear him when he speaks.
“You still get me so nervous.” You breathe out shakily, laughing a little at the prospect knowing he’d already kissed you stupid days ago.
“You got no one to impress, yeah? S’just me.” He teases a little, recalling your words from earlier.
“Plus, I already got a taste of those lips, doll.” This raises a shy laugh from you and you groan while you nudge his knee back playfully, clearly calming down. He has a way of easing you, making you comfortable around him like no one ever has. You lean your head down against his shoulder, bringing your hand to trace patterns on his scrubs.
In the comfortable lull between you both, you break the silence.
“What happened today? Why were you so… worked up?” You ask cautiously, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment by bringing up negative emotions.
Jack pauses, you feel him tense beside you. But he places a hand on your thigh and rubs his thumb back and forth comfortingly, searching for the right words.
“I just… didn’t wanna waste any time.” He admits softly, breathing out a sigh of relief.
“I know what I want, and we’ll go as slow as you want– but I’m not waiting around to miss key moments with you.” He leans down to where you rest on his shoulder and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a moment after his admission.
Your breath hitches at his intensity, realising how serious he is, that he really wants this, wants you.
“Now,” he pauses, using his hand to lift your head off his shoulder. “I’ve been dreamin’ about kissing you again for days.” His rough voice whispers, searching your eyes for permission, any indication you want this as much as he does.
You don’t give him time to find it.
Immediately, you lean in and crash your lips to his, faster and passionate than your first.
Jack is genuinely taken aback by your little show of confidence, and he makes a surprised whine at feeling your lips again.
You pull back, wide eyed and shocked at what you had done. “Fuck–”
He growls at you having broken the kiss. You don’t get time to sit with embarrassment at how desperately you’d kissed him, you notice how blown out his pupils are and he immediately cups your face bringing you back in.
He had so effortlessly taken over, comforting you and pleasing you with one kiss that your worries dissipate, your body relaxes into him, and you let yourself feel it.
For the second time, Jack had kissed you stupid.
First Personality Shifts
Slowly, but surely, Jack was getting you to come out of your shell. He was discovering parts of you he hadn’t known existed, and loved it.
He was encouraging you to grow, to flourish, which is how he discovered how sassy you could get.
The night shift were working overtime, wrapping up cases here and there, during a particularly brutal shift. You’d been working around 15 hours now, exhausted but powering through.
You and Emma, a day shift nurse, were assisting a trauma case led by Jack and Dr. Robby, much to the dismay of Shen and Ellis. It was a particularly tricky case, you’d all been in that room for ages, holding your breath during a risky procedure as the room stays silent.
After a while, you watch Jack and Robby step back from the patient, letting out a breath of relief before Robby raises his thumbs, signalling everything went perfectly. You see them smile, their eyes crinkling from under the mask.
Small cheers and laughs filter through the room, the tension easing out.
“You’ve still got it, man.” Jack praises Robby.
Robby almost looks reluctant to accept the approval.
“Nah man, that’s all you.” Robby retorts, his hand patting Jack’s back whilst Robby went to leave the room.
“Take the compliment, Robby.” Jack raises his voice to reach where Robby was leaving the room, knowing how his friend gets. Robby pauses in the doorway turning to face Jack.
“No, seriously, brother. Everyone could learn a thing or two from you.” Robby says loudly enough so his residents can hear, making it a point.
You hear them go back and forth for a while, your brain is finally slowing down from exhaustion, they do this all the goddamn time, which is why you don’t even process it when you blurt out your next sentence.
“Careful, Jack’s ego is inflated enough as is.” Your voice is somewhat quiet, you really meant it for just Robby and Jack.
The room erupts in small giggles, Robby’s eyebrows lifting in surprise and smirking at Jack. He can’t help but let out a laugh.
“Oof, damn girl.” You hear Ellis joke from behind you.
Your wide eyes shoot up to meet Jack’s, your tired brain catching up and afraid you’d offended him. But he’s stood there, completely still, and grinning so hard. He almost looks proud.
Jack didn’t think he could fall for you any harder.
He was wrong.
───
You had finally gotten comfortable enough to ask for his comfort.
Before you met Jack, you couldn’t imagine asking for help for the littlest of things, afraid of inconveniencing people. Jack had reassured you, time and again, that he wants to be the person you go to when you need help.
So you do.
At first, it was adorable for Jack trying to get you to ask for help. Being a slight tease about it, encouraging you to use your words.
You’d had a rough shift, you weren’t meant to be going to Jack’s place after work, but god did you need him today more than ever.
You’d been in the room for a few trauma cases, neither of which had ended with the patients pulling through, one being a pediatric case. You’d also opted to do an evidence collection for a sexual assault patient, knowing how busy Lena had been tonight, the floor needing her more than ever, so you’d taken over for her.
Safe to say, by the end of the night, you were a wreck. You felt on the verge of tears for hours, like the littlest thing could set you off. You were emotionally depleted, you wanted to just switch off, and you knew Jack could help.
So you approached him quietly, anxiously, your hands fidgeting. He was grabbing his bag out of his locker, so you slid in next to him, your back against the lockers next to him searching his face, checking if he’s too tired, because you wouldn’t want to be a burden.
“Hey, baby.” He smiles at your appearance next to him, glancing over at you.
“Everything okay?” He says gently after noticing your stature. He can tell you’re anxious. He pauses from where he’s gathering his stuff in his lockers, turning to face you fully now. You’re staring into his eyes, you’re hesitant.
“Talk to me.” He commands gently, his hand coming to yours to break apart your nervous fidgeting.
You swallow the lump in your throat, asking for help always ended with tears for you and you didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now.
“Jack.” You just whine, silently begging that he’d understand what you need without you having to vocalise it. Your eyes water slightly, needing his comfort desperately.
“C’mon, baby, use your words.” He coaxes, his hand cupping your cheek. “You can do it.” His thumb brushes back and forth across the apple of your cheek, catching any tears if they fell.
“I need you.” Your voice is shaky, broken. It’s all you can manage without completely breaking down at work.
“Yeah?” His voice is so gentle, like he’s trying not to spook you, but a smirk tugs at his lips. “Atta girl.” His praise causes an involuntary, but quiet whine to leave you.
He’ll stop the teasing for tonight, he sees how much you need him and the fact you had even verbalised your need for him was progress. He’s so proud of you.
“You need me, baby? C’mere.” He opens his arms for you, beckoning you into his hold. You’re a little embarrassed as you hug him, worried someone will find you like this, all vulnerable and mushy.
“You did so good, baby, asking me for help.” He strokes your hair, comforting you. “C’mon. I’ll bring you home.”
A protesting whine escapes you before you realise, the idea of him dropping you home alone upsetting you. You had just said you needed him, hadn’t you?
“Hey, hey.” He says quickly, needing to settle you down before you get more upset. “I meant home. Our home. You’re mine, baby. Imma take care of you now.”
───
However, one particular night, he uncovered an unexpected, but one of his favourite sides of you.
It’d been a rare evening where most of the night shift were off for the day, well at least those fun enough to drink with.
You and Jack hadn’t even bothered to try and hide your relationship around your coworkers, they knew too much. It wasn’t much of a problem anyways, not that either of you were overly affectionate at work.
Lena supported you, but continued to encourage you to err on the side of caution, worried you’ll get hurt. Shen, however, lived for teasing you both.
With a few drinks in your bloodstream, you had shuffled closer to Jack within the booth, searching for his touch. Shen, sitting opposite you both kept giving you knowing looks. It’d started with your thigh against his under the table, a gentle, grounding presence. But drink after drink, it hadn’t been enough. You wrap your arms around his forearm, your head on his shoulder now.
You’re definitely feeling the drinks, tipsy if not drunk, and you’re practically all over Jack. It's like you wanted to crawl into his skin. He’s definitely enjoying how clingy you’re being tonight. He leaves soft kisses in your hair from time-to-time, not trying to go full on PDA in front of his friends. But you were making it very hard for him to keep his cool.
The drinks get to your head, making you both loose-lipped and a little sleepy.
Your eyes fall to his hands. His fingers idly trace around the condensation on his glass as he politely listens to a story Ellis is telling. Truthfully, you hadn’t been clocked into the conversation for a while now, Jack occupying so much space in your mind. Jack. Jack. Jack.
His hands just looked so good. They were so big and veiny, and his fingers were so thick. You don’t know what had gotten into you, but you were so incredibly entranced by his hands.
Without thinking, you slide your hand that rested on his bicep, down his arm until it landed on his hand, gently pulling it away from his glass. He lets you, doesn’t even look down to see what you’re doing, assuming you wanna hold his hand. But you just turn his hand over, palm facing up, and reject his attempt at intertwining your hands together.
You let out a small, short whine in protest. Keeping his hand laying flat on the table while you take your nails and gently trace your fingers in his palm, up his fingers and back down. They were so worn, tough. Nothing like your soft hands.
This touch from you makes him shiver, goosebumps erupting all over his skin. He glances down at your face, your eyes are glazed over and you seem completely infatuated by his hand. He watches you turn over his hand again, and you begin to trace his veins, like you’re completely hypnotised.
His breath comes out shakily, now completely zoned out of Ellis’ conversation.
“What’ya doing, honey?” He whispers quietly into your hair, ensuring no one else can hear him.
You peek up at him from where you rest on his shoulder. God, you’re drunk. He’s so beautiful.
“Your hands are realllyyyy hot.” You blurt out, drunkenly as you continue to toy with his hands. By the power of the universe, the table had erupted into laughter at Ellis’ story at the same time you’d blurted that out, such that no one heard.
He stills at your comment and almost barks out a laugh. He holds it in, not wanting you to get all shy on him. Not when his shy girl has gotten so confident.
“Is that so, baby?” He practically growls into your ear, lifting a drink to hide his smirk.
“Mhmmm.” You hum in affirmation. Your focus shifts from his arm to wrapping both hands around his bicep, it flexes slightly as he brings his drink to his lips. “Y’r arms too. Soooo big. Wanna bite ‘em.”
He genuinely chokes on his drink at that, something possessive stirring in his chest. His shy, sweet girl, completely fawning over Jack.
He blinks around, making sure no one heard what you said, he couldn’t stand the thought of someone else hearing your desired rambles for him. Looking up, he notices Shen’s cocky smirk as he glances between the two of you. Jack’s about to tell him to mind his own business, but you beat him to it, by doubling down.
“Like it's unfairrrrr.” You mumble into his bicep.
“Unfair?” Jack asks, confused.
“How are you sooo– ugh!”
He tilts your chin to look at him, wanting to know where all this flattery is coming from, and you have a lovestruck tired expression.
You pout as you take him in, his curls, his scruff, his face.
Oh.
Something more present and aware flashes in your eyes the longer you stare at him, like you’re realising you spoke the words out loud. Your eyes widen slowly, mortified, and heat rushes to your face as you stare at him silently, replaying everything you just said. In public.
You dart your face around the table and make eye contact with Shen who's laughing under his breath. Oh fuck. You probably just embarrassed Jack and yourself.
You detach from him so quickly it gives him whiplash.
“Oh my god, I’m so–” Your voice is incredibly apologetic, horrified, and you won't even look at him in the face.
“No, hey. none of that.” Jack’s voice is firm. He brings his hands to cup your face, making you look into his eyes. “I like you like this, cheeky, confident.”
You want to be happy at his words, but you can’t help but feel guilt and nausea stir in your stomach. Your drunk brain is making it very hard to think straight. You bite your lip anxiously.
“Do you…” You hesitate, looking into his eyes. “Do you wish I was more like that?” You have to ask. Maybe sober you wouldn’t feel so insecure, but you’re tired and your mouth is still feeling braver than your brain.
“God, no, honey–” He pauses trying to find the right words, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek. “I mean– Don’t apologise for this. I want you, every version of you.” His tone is pleading. You calm down a little at his words, feeling silly at how quick your mind jumped to the worst case.
“Want you even when you’re drunk outta your mind and thirsting over me like this–” He teases which gets cut off by a groan from you. You can’t help but smile as you hide your face into his neck again.
First Time
You’d been dating Jack for a little while now, but you still hadn’t had your first time together. Jack waited for your signal, he wouldn’t push, he’d wait until you were comfortable enough to be with him.
Which you were. You wanted to be intimate with Jack for so long, but there’s a nagging feeling at the back of your brain, stopping you from initiating.
Your past relationships, as Jack had slowly realised, weren’t exactly the best. You weren’t ever cared for like you are with Jack, which extended to sex. Sex had never really been about you and your partner, it’d always been about his pleasure, his needs.
And now you’re with the most perfect guy, you don’t know how to navigate being intimate in a way that isn’t focused only on him.
This thought was really getting to you one evening. You and Jack were at his place, just having finished dinner, and now you sit on the couch with your legs in his lap as you absentmindedly watch TV. His hand is giving you gentle strokes up and down your leg, and you can’t stop thinking about needing to warn him about your relationship with sex.
“Jack?” You ask gently. He doesn’t look over, he continues stroking your leg whilst humming in response.
You bite your lip anxiously.
“Um– I need to tell you something.” Jack’s hand falters his motions on your leg and he turns his head quickly, concern flashing on his features. Your tone, so nervous and anxious, had worried him, his chest twisting.
“Baby, what’s going on?” He coos, but he’s definitely on edge.
“It’s nothing, really. Um–” You pause, realising you hadn’t thought about a way to approach this with him. “I just really wanna have sex with you–” You blurt out.
Oh for fuck’s sake. You wince and close your eyes in embarrassment. That’s definitely not the right way to do this
Jack’s face is even more confused, amusement flashing his features.
“Right. Baby, I’ve been waiting for you…” He reminds you gently.
“No, no, I know.” You huff frustrated. “I– it’s about that. I just– fuck.” Your frustration builds at yourself for not being able to articulate your words well.
Jack sits up now, sensing your discomfort. He brings you closer to him, leaning on his shoulder now.
“Honey, focus, you’re okay. You can tell me anything.” His voice is immediately grounding. You breathe out shakily.
Silence hangs between you both, before you finally admit it.
“I can’t finish during sex.”
Silence continues to permeate the room. You’re so mortified. You don’t turn to look at his face. You can’t.
“You mean– you haven’t or you can’t?” His voice is gentle, a hand coming to stroke your hair. He’s definitely suspicious of your confession.
“I dunno… both, I guess. I’m not saying this to make it a challenge– people have done that before and it just makes it worse. I’m just warning you beforehand my body is wired differently and I don’t want you to feel bad if you can’t make it happen–”
“Oh, honey, is this why you’ve been hesitant to have sex?” He asks softly, interrupting your rambling.
You just hum in affirmation, embarrassed.
Jack mulls over your words, he won’t argue and tell you he will make you finish but he seriously thinks this is a product of your previous boyfriends being inattentive and careless with you. Anger twists in his chest thinking about you thinking you’re somehow inadequate when it was your boyfriends who just took and took.
“Listen to me, baby.” He tilts your face to look at him now. “I don’t care about that y’hear me?” He watches your expression falter, eyes full of vulnerability.
“If you can’t? Fine. I don’t want you any less, I just wanna make you feel loved, baby.” He can tell you’re still hesitant, but you nod.
You smile shyly and cuddle into his side, resting your head on his lap as he plays with your hair.
The days following your conversation you think over his words more, and a few days later, you tell him you wanna do it– be with him.
He checks in multiple times throughout the day, making sure you’re okay, that you’re absolutely sure. But you also notice how much more often his touches linger. You can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, but you can’t stop thinking about him. Everything about him that day is so much more gentle and careful with you.
That evening, when he leads you onto the couch your body is thrumming with anxiety. You know what's about to happen, he knows. Why are you so scared? You’ve never been more tense, more afraid of something going wrong. This is the man you love.
When you both sit on the couch, cuddling like you always do, he doesn’t make a move. Maybe he’s waiting for you. Your leg shakes as you try to figure out what’s meant to happen, what you’re supposed to do.
Before you can overthink it, you drape yourself over his lap and crash your lips to kiss, a hungry desperate kiss.
He returns it, a grunt of surprise before melting into it. Hands coming to gently rest on your face. The kiss is almost rough, your tongue intertwining with his. You can do this, you can make him feel good. Your brain already slips into making sure he’s pleased, unable to shake the habit from the past.
You move against his lap, and he groans in pleasure. The noise he makes thrills you, wanting to hear it again, you’ve never heard him like this. You try to grind again but he pulls away breathless, shaking his head.
“Baby, slow down.” He practically laughs caressing your cheek. He can’t lose his cool already, not when he plans to make you feel good.
Fuck.
Shame floods your chest and your cheeks heat, climbing off of him and curl up next to him. You somehow messed this up, you want the couch to open and swallow you up.
“Oh, my sweet girl. C’mere.” He coos, turning to face you. He realises how his words may have come across like a rejection, and that’s the last thing he wants you to think.
“I don’t wanna rush this” He places a hand on your thigh, dipping his head trying to find your eyes. He can tell how nervous you are, how much you’re overthinking this. “Lemme take over, yeah?” He asks softly.
You meekly lift your head to meet his eyes before nodding. His eyes are blown out, he looks hungry. But there's an edge of restraint, he's holding back.
You don’t even have time to feel guilty before he cups your face and brings your lips to his again, slow, passionate.
He leans forward, crowding you back against the couch until he’s lying over you. Your heart jumps at the closeness, the position you’re in.
You become breathless, almost gasping for air between each kiss.
Jack moves from your lips, placing sweet kisses down your jaw. Your body erupts in goosebumps, you’re practically shivering at the contact. You don’t even register your hand lifting to comb through his hair, pulling him down onto your jaw for more.
You feel his lips twitch into a smirk.
“That feel good, baby?” He rasps. The low grumble of his voice has you bucking your hips into him, desperate for him. You get completely lost in his kisses–
“Words, baby.” He commands pulling away to look into your eyes. He smirks smugly as he sees how wrecked he’s made you with just his kisses.
You blink processing his request, breathless and annoyed he’s stopped kissing you.
“Yeah– please, Jack. Don’t st– ah!” You’re cut off by his lips attaching to a sensitive spot on your neck, just below your ear. You whine as he sucks on your skin, for sure leaving a mark. Your body shivers again with the thought of him marking you that you involuntarily tug at his hair, which provokes a growl from Jack.
He detaches from your neck breathlessly dipping his head like you’ve just wrecked him with a simple tug.
“Do that again.” He commands low, before hungrily returning to your neck sucking more spots over and over.
A surge of confidence fills you knowing you have the capacity to make him feel just as wrecked as he does you. You continue to rake your hands through his curls, tugging occasionally loving his whines, as he sucks spots lower and lower down your collarbone and chest.
His hand trails under your shirt, his cold hand making contact with your tummy and you tense involuntarily. He pauses looking up from where his head rests on your chest.
“You need to slow down?” His tone is so soft, gentle, it almost makes you cry.
“Nononon– please keep going,” you almost beg “Your hand was just cold.” You laugh embarrassed while stroking his hair.
He smirks at your neediness trying not to tease you more.
He holds eye contact while his hands trail up your torso, goosebumps erupting throughout your body once again. You get flustered as he stares so intensely and you try to look away.
“Eyes on me.” He coos, bringing his fingers to tilt your head back to face him. Heat rushes in your face, your body practically shakes with anticipation.
He lifts your top off so slowly, that you almost just beg for him to hurry up, for him to touch you. His hand slowly slides up from your hips up to your breasts, a hand coming to cup you over your bra as he returns to sucking spots at your collarbone. You get lost in the sensation once more, not noticing his other hand working at removing your bra. Once you peel it off he just stares. You almost go to hide, feeling self-conscious under his stare.
“So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans before directly leaning down and taking a nipple into his mouth.
Your hands grip the couch roughly and your back arches into him involuntarily.
“Fuck– ohmygod–” you whine at the sensation of his tongue swirling your nipples. You feel jack smirk against your breast, cocky fucker, before returning to suck on them hard.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good, you had no idea kisses and touches like this could wreck you.
His teeth unexpectedly grazes your nipple and you moan. Your body shakes with overwhelm, you bring your hands to cup jacks face needing him to pause.
His lips detach from your nipple and his pupils are black. He looks like a man starved. He tries to go back to sucking but you hold his face steady.
“Need– fuck– need a break, feels too good.” You pant.
Jack blinks and his cocky smirk returns.
“Oh yeah?” He rasps, with a mock condescending tone.
You want to even the playing field a bit so you paw at his shirt, needing him to take it off, which he complies by ripping it clean off so quickly you barely register it. He leans down to capture your lips again, but you push your body upwards into his to manoeuvre you both into sitting position. You’re on top of him now, your turn to wreck him.
His eyes narrow and smiles at your little show of dominance, and he’ll let you think you have the upper hand, for now.
You lean down to return the kisses he gave you. You test out his sensitive spots, kissing and sucking spots along his neck whilst raking your nails along his biceps, his back, his chest.
His breathing is shallow and you hear him whine.
Bingo.
You continue sucking in that spot on his neck, one hand tugging in his hair and another raking nails on his bicep. You love the sound of him falling apart.
You feel his hips involuntarily buck into your and you know you have him under your finger. It’s your turn to smirk against his neck, peppering small kisses up his jaw before locking eyes with him and grinding down straight into his lap.
His hands jolt to your waist, not roughly, but a firm presence. He holds you down as he groans loudly, coming to rest his head on your chest. You try to move again but his hands on your waists prevent it, and he sounds destroyed.
Your smug, cocky victory is short lived.
His hands are on your thighs in an instant and you’re suddenly jolted upwards, your legs wrap around his torso as you let out a startled yelp. He’s carrying you.
“You’re a fuckin’ tease, baby.” He murmurs into your neck as he carries you towards his bedroom.
You’re plopped down onto his bed and you bounce a little. You don’t even get time to speak before he’s on you again, his kisses desperate.
His hands paw at your bottoms, sliding them off in one quick go before he cups your panties.
“You enjoy almost getting me to blow my load in my pants, hmmm?” He teases feeling how wet you are already. “Making me feel like a fucking teenager again–” He growls before latching onto your breast again.
His hand slides your panties off as he sucks you, and it all feels too good you whine as you paw at his belt, wanting him to take his pants off too, to be on equal playing ground.
Groaning, he reluctantly detaches again before quickly working at his belt. The sound of the clink and him sliding it through the loops has your stomach flipping as you breathlessly stare at him from the bed.
As soon as they’re off he’s on you again, his fingers coming to your clit, spreading the wetness from your folds up and making small circles. You jolt a little at the feeling, not expecting his touch there.
“Jack– fuck– what’r you doing? You don’t have to–” You begin to tell him to not waste his time on you, you already know you won't be able to cum.
“M’working you up, baby.” He coos, not slowing his motions. “No pressure to finish, yeah? Just wanna make sure it doesn’t hurt.”
You hesitate, staring into his eyes and you realise he’s being sincere. You swallow a lump in your throat, feeling extra vulnerable at the lengths of care you feel he’s taking for you. You nod before falling back against the bed, just letting yourself enjoy the feeling of his touches.
You feel the way his fingers move slow circles against your clit, how they adjust every time your breath hitches, as he’s searching for the right tempo and pressure to make you feel good.
You can hear how wet you are, you almost feel embarrassed how his fingers glide through your folds so easily. He continues to pepper gentle kisses down your neck as his fingers stroke you, they move lower and lower until they reach your entrance.
You gasp as he pushes his fingers inside you, feeling full.
You let out small whines of pleasure as he thrusts his fingers inside you. He shushes you by placing his soft lips to yours, continuing to mumble sweet words.
“Just let go for me, baby.”
“Thaaaats it.”
“Rub your clit for me.”
You reach down to add pressure to your clit and immediately jolt at the feeling. It feels different. The pressure from his fingers inside you, curling upwards and continuously thrusting at a consistent pace is getting to you.
Your lower stomach twists, he sucks on your neck as he rubs against the spongy spot inside you, you realise the pressure feels good. That the way you’re rubbing yourself as he thrusts into you while whispering is working. You try so hard to keep it there. Keep rubbing. Keep focused on the feeling. Focusing on his words–
It disappears.
“Fuck!” You huff frustrated, tears welling in your eyes. He pulls his fingers out immediately, worried he’s hurt you and you curl up into yourself. “I can’t do it.” Your voice is wobbly as you berate yourself, wiping a tear off your face.
“Hey, easy, baby.” He soothes by rubbing a hand on your back. His heart clenches at the sight of your teary eyes.
“M’sorry, Jack,” you sniffle. “You spent so much time on me and I couldn’t–”
“No. Hey.” He stops you, firmly. “No apologies. M’not mad, not upset.” He coos, moving your hair away from your face.
“I did all of that because I wanted to. You didn’t ruin anything, y’hear me?” He cups your face making you look into his eyes.
You nod shyly, but you’re still feeling low about it, he can tell.
“Jack– It’s okay if you wanna just fuck me now. M’ready. I want it too.” You whisper looking up into his eyes, still on the verge of tears.
He’s shaking his head before you even finish your sentence.
“No.” His tone is final.
He has an inkling that you’re in your own head too much, putting too much pressure on yourself to perform even when he told you there’s no expectations. He can feel your frustration, just wanting to fix this for you. An idea lands in his head.
“I’m not done with you.” He says gently whilst moving down your body again. “If you’ll let me, I wanna try something else, yeah?”
“But–” You begin to protest, feeling guilty he has to try so hard on you.
“It’s for me. Not for you. Humour me, okay?” He asks so politely, you don’t wanna deprive him of something he enjoys. So you nod.
“Lay back for me completely, baby.” You oblige, breathing heavily.
You feel his fingers in your folds again, they linger on your clit before he gently thrusts them back inside you. You lie back, continuing to feel the pressure but you can’t shake the guilt.
You feel his hot breath ghost over your mound. You jerk your head up, he’s staring directly at you before he places his lips directly on your clit and sucks.
Your body jolts, arching your back off the bed, your hand landing in his hair once more. You were not expecting this.
“Jack– ohgod.” You breathe as he simultaneously works his fingers inside you and tongues your clit. He smirks at your reaction.
“That feel good?” He’s cocky, but he’s also checking in on you. You nod fervently and guide his head back down. He obliges wordlessly and gets back to working your clit. You’ve never been made to finish with someone else's fingers, but no one has ever tried this.
He hears your small whines and it takes all the restraint in his body to keep focused on you, as much as he wants to just take his cock and slide it inside you, to watch your eyes widen as he fills you up, he wants you to feel good.
You feel the familiar pressure build in your lower stomach.
You start squirming, your lower half somehow both chasing his mouth but trying to get away from it. You’re getting overwhelmed, your body experiencing too much at once, and this is where you usually tap out, where it dissipates.
Jack senses it. He feels you clenching around his fingers. Feels your whines becoming more high pitched and breathless. He doesn’t want you to think too much about finishing, can’t have you waiting for the build because it’s gonna drive it away.
He doesn’t change his pace, his fingers continue thrusting, and his tongue doesn’t speed up on your clit, he keeps everything consistent.
“Jack–” You whine, feeling overwhelmed but knowing it’s not going to work, edging towards overstimulation.
He glances up to meet your eyes but doesn’t stop his motions, searching your face. He can see you’re wrecked. He’s desperate for you to fall off the edge, you’re right there.
So he distracts you.
In one smooth motion, he removes his mouth. You almost whine in sadness before he replaces them with his fingers, eliciting a stronger reaction from you, and he says, in the most casual tone:
“You finish your charting?”
What?
“My– Jack– what?” You huff out breathlessly but he doesn’t slow his fingers from toying with your clit and thrusting inside you
You try to answer his question, racking your brain.
But you can’t think.
It feels too good.
Your mind goes completely blank.
And you let go.
You fall apart completely. You clench around his fingers and your legs shake involuntarily.
“Fuck–!” You moan loudly. Jack continues to work you through your orgasm, not stopping for a minute.
He pulls the pleasure from your body, the only thing you register is the waves of pleasure crashing down on your body. Your back is arched off the bed and your eyes are squeezed shut as Jack manages the impossible.
You didn’t know it could feel this good.
You finally start squirming trying to get away, and he eases his fingers out of you. You’re practically shaking, breaths coming out heavily as you lay on the bed completely destroyed.
You feel him slide up the bed, tucking himself under you so your head rests in his lap and he just strokes your head, moving strands of hair out of your face from where they’ve stuck to you as you’ve gotten sweaty.
You slowly calm down, coming back to yourself and shyly open your eyes. He’s already staring down at you, smiling so wide.
Despite yourself, you blush. Like he hadn’t just made you completely fall apart.
“My sweet girl.” He coos, stroking your cheek.
You try to hide your face in your arms, feeling impossibly shy at his words.
“Oh, c’mere, baby.” He coaxes you out of hiding. “Y’getting all shy? After I just made you cum so hard?” He teases gently and you groan, turning around to sit in his lap, resting your head in his neck.
“Jaaaaack.” You whine.
“Okay, I hear ya, baby. No more teasin’,” he rubs a hand down your back, then his tone gets impossible quiet, like you’ve never heard before. “That was okay, right, sweetheart?” His puppy dog eyes meet yours.
You can’t help but laugh.
“Okay?” You scoff.
“Jack, that was– everything.” You tell him, kissing his cheek.
He settles down a little after that, the brief shyness leaving him.
“My turn, please.” You beg whilst reaching down to his crotch where you can feel the erection poking through from where you’re sat above him.
He grabs your wrists as you touch the waist band of his shorts, stopping you, you frown.
“Darlin’, believe me. Any other night, absolutely,” He pauses stroking your cheek. “But I need you so bad right now, need to be inside you.”
“Oh.” You whisper, a shy smile coating your face as you realise how wrecked he is. Rising from his lap and allowing him to remove his boxers, you settle back down onto the bed. He’s on top of you in an instant. “Jack– I can get on top, wanna ride you.” You say shyly.
“Fucccck,” he groans. “Baby, I want that, but I’m not gonna last. Next time. Let me feel you this way. Please.” He begs while positioning himself between your legs.
You wrap your legs around him as the tip of his cock slides through your folds. Your breath hitches when it nudges against your clit, the feel of your wet folds sliding against his cock makes it twitch against you, and he lets out a low groan at the feeling. Jack repeats the motion a few times before bringing the tip to your entrance.
You instinctively brace, knowing how painful it always is. Jack sees this, leaning down to kiss your neck and calming you down, relaxing you.
“S’okay, relax.” He coos before dipping his head into your neck, and pushing in.
He pushes in slowly, so slowly he’s losing his restraint.
But it doesn’t hurt.
He’d worked you open so well, kept you so relaxed, you just feel full.
You moan as he bottoms out, a hand tugging at his curls and the other gripping his bicep. You nod fervently,
“You can move, please, move–” You don’t even finish your begs, your permission is all he needs to start letting go and thrusting into you.
You swear you’ve never felt so good in your life, the level of intimacy is unmatched.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He whines
His eyes meet yours as he thrusts, and as always his stare is intense. His pupils are blown and he looks destroyed.
He fits so perfectly inside you, you’re so full, you can’t help but moan.
You’re clenching around him so perfectly, your breasts bouncing with every thrust and he can’t take his eyes off you.
“You’re doing so good f’me.” He praises even though he looks like he’s on the edge.
Holding himself up on one arm to continue his movements, he brings a second to your clit.
You don’t expect his touch once more, so lost in how full you feel, how heavenly it all is, that you hadn’t realised how close you were again, and his simple touch pulls a second orgasm from you.
You fall apart even more, gripping his hair, nails leaving marks on his bicep as you shake around him, clenching.
That’s all he needs to finish.
Your beautiful moans, the way you don’t break eye contact, the feel of you coming undone on his cock, he’s gone.
His thrusts stagger, becoming more desperate and frantic, his hold on your waist tightens as he grips onto you bringing you down onto his cock. His head lulls next to your head, hot breath in your ear as he groans, his seed spilling inside you.
He’s completely wrecked, his last few after-orgasm thrusts jolt you, overstimulating. He lets his body go and completely crashes down onto you like a weighted blanket, leaving sloppy kisses down your neck.
You’re both breathing so heavily, he’s still inside you as your aftershocks move through you, clenching involuntarily, but he seems to enjoy the feeling even as sensitive as he is.
“Y’were perfect for me, baby.” He whispers into your ear.
Your heart clenches at his words, how soft he’d been with you the whole time. He was so caring, so focused on you, praising you throughout the whole thing, he never took, he just kept giving and giving. He made sure it didn’t hurt. You realise that you’ve been accepting subpar treatment your whole life and just brushing it off.
In your post-orgasmic blank brain, you can’t process the emotions and a few silent tears spill from your eyes at the complete overwhelm of emotions.
Your sniffles are what alert Jack, finally lifting his head to meet your eyes. His heart drops into his stomach, panic flooding him.
“Hey, hey, talk to me.” His tone is so soft you feel guilty for worrying him. He moves to pull out, but you’re not thinking straight and you lock your legs around him, not wanting him to leave.
You just reach around and koala-bear hug him. He settles a little knowing he hasn’t hurt you, that you still wanted him touching you.
“Gotta talk to me, baby.” He pleads, cupping your face.
You’re not silent for much longer, calming down enough to stop his worry.
“You– felt so good.” Your voice is high pitched, almost shy. “You cared for me.” You sniffle.
Jack’s heart practically breaks.
“Oh, baby.” He coos, bringing you into his chest. Peppering many kisses into your hair. “M’always gonna take care of you.” He says so gently you can’t help but let out another tear, but you’re smiling now.
“I love you.” You whisper, eyes full of tears, him still inside you.
He breathes out a sigh of relief.
“Baby you got no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.” He kisses you, soft, passionately.
authors note: a little self indulgent imagine. i hope my fellow shy girls enjoy <3 [ due to popular demand: find part two here ]
—
she was crouched in the hallway outside her apartment at eight in the morning, trying to pick up the contents of a ripped grocery bag.
“are you serious right now” she groaned.
she moved into the building about a month ago and already felt too awkward. everyone here seemed polished and so certain of themselves, living their fabulous lives while she still hesitated before speaking in shared elevators.
then came the heavy sound of boots down the hall.
“jesus,” a rough voice muttered. “you got jumped by a whole foods?”
she looked up too fast. her eyes widening, mouth going dry at the sight of him.
the man standing there was devastatingly handsome. large broad shoulders under a dark tee shirt, a hospital badge still clipped onto it. his face was worn like he was exhausted but in a way that made him even more gorgeous.
his eyes landed on her like she was something that caused her heart to skip a beat. he was looking at her like he actually saw her.
heat crawled up her neck as she spoke timidly, “the bag broke.”
stupid. obviously he can see that.
“yeah..” he hummed. hands on his hips as he peered down at her.
suddenly he crouched beside her without hesitation, large calloused hands collecting apples before they rolled away. his elbow brushing hers once as she nearly stopped breathing.
“new neighbor?” he asked.
she nodded. “mhm.. i’m actually across from you.”
“that explains it.” he hummed, bringing his lips into a sideways smile.
“what does?” her curiosity getting the better of her.
“i haven’t seen you before.” his gaze flicked toward her, steady and unreadable. “would’ve remembered.” he shrugged.
her stomach flipped so hard it almost hurt. men never say things like that. not to her.
growing up, she had always felt slightly out of frame beside other girls. too quiet. too nervous. too soft in the wrong ways. boys liked her friends, of course, they were the confident ones, the loud ones, the girls who knew how to flirt without blushing.
meanwhile she spent most of her life shrinking herself before anyone else could do it first.
but jack looked at her like none of that existed. like she was actually worth noticing.
“what’s your name?” he asked, struggling slightly with the weight of his body resting on his prosthetic.
she told him her name, earning a hum in response as he handed her the last can from the floor, fingers lingering for half a second. “i’m jack.”
she swallowed. “uh.. i know.”
his eyebrow lifted in curiosity. “oh yeah?”
breathlessly, she let out, “the walls are thin.”
that made him laugh, deep and low and surprised. and for some reason, that manly sound settled something nervous inside her chest causing her to smile bashfully.
oh my god?! why would you say that?!
jack stood, taking two grocery bags from her hands before she could protest. “come, i’ll walk you in.”
panic dripped into her veins, what was he doing?? he can’t do this! “you don’t have to—”
“already doing it.”
-
inside her apartment, she rushed to clear a couple of unopened boxes off the counter while he set the groceries down. her place was a homey delight, the caramel heugh coming from her sunset lamp creating a warmth that engulfed them as they stood in her kitchen in silence.
she braced for embarrassment.
instead, jack slowly looked around the apartment, then at her. “it suits you.”
her heart stuttered as she let out a chuckle, “you don’t even know me.” she said, a small smile plastered across her face as she gripped onto the island counter.
“don’t gotta know everything.” his eyes held hers again. they were intense enough to make her butterflies flutter. “can tell plenty already.”
no one had ever looked at her like that before. like she was soft in a way worth protecting. like her quietness wasn’t something to apologize for.
she looked down quickly, suddenly shy beneath the weight of his undivided attention. jack noticed, of course he did.
his voice softened. “you always avoid eye contact like that?”
a nervous laugh escaped her. “how- i… yes.”
“why?” he wanted to know.
because people don’t usually like what they see she wants to say.
because no one had ever made her feel beautiful before.
because wanting to feel desired felt embarrassing when you spent your whole life feeling forgettable.
but of course she didn’t say any of that.
jack stepped closer anyway, not crowding her but still enough for his presence to wrap around her.
“well,” he said quietly, “you should stop.”
she finally looked up and there it was again…that devastating look.
the one that made her feel warm, feminine and wanted, like every hidden ache she carried in her head had suddenly been placed in someone else’s careful hands.
jack’s jaw tightened slightly as he looked at her. “pretty little ladies shouldn’t hide.”
her breath caught at that. her heeks going pink and her head all fuzzy as she looked up at him.
because somehow she has an inclination that he meant it.
‘ TOLD YOU I LIKED GENTLE GIANTS SO YOU SOFTENED UP . ‘
— in which frat! sukuna realizes he’s totally whipped for his shy! gf 🥹
“i told you, i have to go to the library today.” you say sternly, looking at yourself in the mirror as you curl your hair. sukuna’s wide hands laying dormant against your hips, crimson eyes following your every move in the mirror. he grumbles, hips grinding against your ass. “why you always leaving me? y’hate me?” he murmurs, kissing your neck. “you’re so annoying.” you whisper lowly, somewhat cowering into yourself. even though you and sukuna have been dating for almost four months, you still shy away at his advances. “you’re always shufflin’ away from me. stay still.” he grins, bringing your hips back against him. your face heats up as you put your head down, putting away all your hair products. “‘m still annoying?” he chuckles, manually rolling your hips against him. “always.” you meek out, pushing your glasses up.
you gently pull away, turning around to face your boyfriend. you press a calm kiss to his cheek, a manicured hand resting on his pecs. “i’ll see you later?” you assure, head tilting to the side. his eyelids flutter, his grip on your hips tightening just a smidge, as if it was a silent plea for you to stay. “yea-fuck- yeah. i’ll see you later.” he almost whines out. he follows closely behind you as you put your shoes and coat on by the door. he gives you five one more “see you later” kiss before sending you on your way. he watches from the frosted window as you get in your car and drive off, pulling off his snapback and pushing his hair back with a groan.
warnings: reader can’t swim, soft!steve, friends to lovers, fear of drowning (?), shy!reader, mentions of mean girls, mentions of body insecurities (kinda), the first half of this was written like 3 months ago i just found it and decided to finish it so if that’s noticeable i apologise.
word count: 2.5k
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Steve had always been pretty good at noticing things. When he was a kid, he picked up on his fathers affair as soon as his dad started coming home an hour later than usual smelling like woman’s perfume. He could tell every time when Tommy and Carol had had a fight, he’d learnt quickly that Dustin hated noise whilst he did his homework and Lucas enjoyed sports but was too afraid to tell his friends. He noticed things.
That’s why, during the first proper hot day of the summer, he realised something about you.
He’d invited the group round to go in his pool, he hadn’t been in it since the night Barb went missing and he didn’t want the first time to be alone. He didn’t mention anything about it, but he could sense that everyone else knew what he was thinking. The kids were splashing water at each other, Robin was teaching them how to play chicken and he was barbecuing some burgers for lunch.
You, on the other hand, hadn’t moved from the sun lounger. You’d been laid there in your bikini since everyone had arrived.
“Don’t feel like going for a swim?” He asked, coming up beside you with a fresh cherry cola — he’d noticed you’d put your last one down awhile ago and hadn’t picked it back up, telling him it was probably empty.
“Uh, no, guess not,” you shrugged, giving him a small smile.
You were so shy around him, you had been since the moment you’d met. Sure, you’d gone to school together but he was the grade above and you weren’t in the same social class as him. He was King Steve whilst you were just… you. It wasn’t until he started working with Robin and she brought you around that you became officially acquainted, and he hadn’t left you alone for more than a week since.
It was a little embarrassing, honestly. How often he’d be calling you, how he’d always jump at the chance to see you. He hadn’t had cherry colas in his fridge until he noticed that you seemed to always buy them at the store. Robin would call to invite you out and he would have already done it. He didn’t care how much she complained, it was her fault for introducing you to him.
“C’mon, a little break from reading wouldn’t hurt,” he teased, making you flush. You’d been reading one of his moms cosmos that she kept on the coffee table purely for decoration.
“I— maybe later,” you murmured in response.
You didn’t go in later. Or the next time they all came over, or the next. It was starting to truly bug him, of course he had no problem with you sitting around in a dainty bikini all afternoon but he felt like you were missing out on the fun. He took his opportunity to ask you about it when you went to the bathroom. He followed you, as innocently as possible, and waited on the couch.
“Why aren’t you going in the pool?” You almost jumped out of your skin as he spoke up, having not noticed him sitting there.
“God, you scared me!” You exclaimed, cheeks red. He gave you an apologetic smile; if you were anyone else he would’ve laughed his ass off. “What… what do you mean?”
“You haven’t been in the pool, I was just wondering why,” he explained.
“I have been in.” It was a complete lie. You failed to notice that his eyes were on you at all times of the day. He knew you hadn’t been in.
“You haven’t,” he replied, keeping his tone soft so you didn’t think he was accusing you of anything. “Is it because of what happened to Barb? Because, I promise, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not that anything would, it’s perfectly safe.”
You’d just so happened to have been dragged into all of this last summer, when Steve and Robin worked together at Scoops Ahoy. So, you’d been filled in on everything else that had happened prior. He wished that you hadn’t had to deal with any of it, but once you were stuck in a Russian filled basement with him he couldn’t exactly save you. He got a good few black eyes for trying, though.
“No, I know,” you reassured gently. “I just— I’m not really that big on swimming.”
“Is it the kids? Are they too intense? I can tell ‘em to knock it off, they listen to me… mostly,” he offered.
“No! No, they’re fine,” you responded. His eyes stayed on you and you knew he wasn’t going to let this go. You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I… I don’t know how to swim.”
Your words shocked him. He blinked in surprise. “You don’t know how to swim?”
“Not all of us grew up with pools in our backyard.” He smiled slightly, even when throwing a jab you sounded sweet.
“I know, but we did swim practice in high school,” he said.
“I didn’t like the idea of being in a bathing suit in front of girls like Carol and Nicole. Every time we’d do it I made my mom write a note that I couldn’t,” you admitted.
He despised the thought of you feeling insecure, he also hated the fact those girls had been his friends. His smile faltered and he looked at you with guilt in his eyes. “You’re beautiful though, you know that right?”
Your cheeks lit up as you avoided eye contact, being able to see his grin from the corner of your eye. “That didn’t really matter with girls like that, they’d find anything to bully you on.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He’d heard the insults those girls would throw at people in the halls. Half of them didn’t even make sense, but because he was such an ass he’d just laugh along with them rather than doing what was right. “I’m sorry for that. For them.”
“You don’t need to apologise for other people, Steve,” you said softly. “We’re not in high school anymore, and I’m not bothered by it. It’s just the reason I never learnt to swim.”
“Good. You shouldn’t be.” He was happy to know that their petty words hadn’t affected you long term, he was sure for some others that wasn’t the case. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, guess I’m too curious.”
“It’s okay,” you replied. “I’m good sticking to the lounger. Your mom has some good magazines.”
“I’ll make sure she keeps buying them, then.”
It was a week later that Steve had invited you back over. You didn’t get your usual call from Robin, but you didn’t think much of it. By now she was used to Steve beating her to the punch. You showed up at his front door and knocked, expecting either Dustin or Max to open the door since they were the ones that were inside the most (Steve would make them take breaks because they burnt the easiest).
It wasn’t them, though. It was Steve.
“Hey,” he greeted with a smile, moving out of the way to let you inside. Surprisingly, he was in his swim trunks. He didn’t get in the pool that often himself, he wasn't afraid of it anymore but he was usually barbecuing or sitting next to you shamelessly flirting.
“Hi,” you replied softly, smiling at him. You had clothes on over your bikini, you’d gone with a white one this time; it definitely wasn’t because Steve had told you that was his favourite. “Am I the first here?”
“You’re the only one coming.” You gave him a look of confusion, but he was just grinning to himself like he’d won the lottery. “I didn’t invite anyone else.”
“Oh.” You blushed. “Why?”
“Because I’m gonna teach you how to swim.” Your blush quickly faded. This wasn’t because he wanted to hang out one on one with you, it was because of his need to help everyone with everything.
“What?” You asked, nerves tightening in your chest.
“C’mon, I was captain of the swim team and a lifeguard. I’m pretty much made for this shit,” he explained, arm wrapping around your shoulders to lead you further through the house; and stop you from running away.
“That doesn’t mean you taught people how to swim. Wouldn’t they already need to know how to do that to be on a swim team?” You mumbled.
“Not necessarily.”
“I don’t know, Steve,” you said anxiously as you neared the pool. Just being so close to it made you nervous. “What if I, like, drown?”
“How are you gonna drown with me right next to you?” He deadpanned. “Besides, it’s really not that deep. If you stand on your tiptoes you could probably breathe.”
“I’m gonna look stupid,” you carried on.
“I’ve watched you drunkenly fall face first out of my car and still didn’t think you looked stupid. Impossible,” he argued. You wanted to slap him just for bringing that up. “Please? I want you to be able to enjoy hanging out with everyone rather than sitting alone. I promise, it’ll be fun.”
You hesitated, but the pleading puppy-dog look made you huff. “Fine, fine you can teach me to swim.”
“Yes!”
“But, I swear Harrington if I drown—”
“You won’t be able to do much if you’ve drowned.” You gave him a look. “You’re not gonna drown! C’mon, we’ll start slow. Just dip your toes in.”
“I have been in a pool before. Just… the little ones for kids,” you mumbled, sitting down on the edge once you’d kicked your sandals off.
Steve sat next to you, grinning from ear to ear. The water was a little cold on your feet, but compared to the hot weather it was nice. “Ready to get in?”
“It’s been two seconds!” You squeaked out nervously.
“Come on, I’ll go first.” You didn’t expect for him to cannonball in, splashing you.
“Jesus!” You exclaimed, pouting as you looked down at your soaked crop top and denim shorts.
“They’ll dry in the sun. Come on.”
You huffed, but stood up from your place beside the pool and moved to put your clothes on your lounger; god you wished you could be sitting there today. You took your top off first, Steve’s eyes watched your every move. He smirked to himself at the sight of the white bikini. You kicked your shorts off and walked back over to the pool, stopping by the side.
“Come round here, this side is shallower.” He swam over and waited for you. There were steps which you slowly descended into, water slowly rising up your body. “Okay?”
“I guess,” you murmured. You knew you could’ve just done this before, but the fear of one of the kids asking for a race or to play chicken with them had stopped you.
“Good. So, here’s what you’re gonna do.” He started to demonstrate from beside you, showing you how to put your legs and arms. You tried to copy him, but failed miserably as you nearly swallowed a mouthful of pool water. “Not the worst first try I’ve ever seen.” You gave him a glare, wiping the water from your eyes.
“This is ridiculous,” you huffed.
“Right, how about we just get you feeling comfortable in the deep end,” he suggested.
“How do we do that without me swimming?” You sighed.
He reached out and grabbed your waist, you flinched in surprise. “Trust me?” He asked. You nodded your head. He pulled you closer. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
“Steve…” your cheeks were as hot as a volcano at this point.
“Just do it,” he murmured. Your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands rested under your thighs. He moved to the deeper end with you in his arms and your hold tightened around his shoulders. “You’re good, I’ve gotcha.”
“Promise?” You hoped he wasn’t going to do that thing they did to babies where they just drop them in.
“I promise,” he soothed, giving you a reassuring smile. You were so close, the closest you’ve ever been, it wasn’t helping the butterflies in your stomach. He stopped when he got to the deepest section of the pool. “How’s it feeling?”
“I don’t know, fine,” you mumbled, although you were still gripping onto him like your life depended on it.
“How about we try floating? I’ll hold under you, so you know you won’t fall,” he offered.
“Here?” You squeaked out.
He smirked down at you. “Yeah. Here. I promise, you’re safe. I’m riiiight here, nothin’ bad can happen with me around."
“Okay,” you agreed hesitantly.
He situated you on your back, but his hand rested underneath you, holding you up. “Gotta let go of me,” he laughed. You hadn’t even realised that you were gripping onto his arm. You slowly let go, squeezing your eyes shut as you waited to go under… but nothing happened. You opened one and looked at him, he was grinning. “See?”
“Yeah,” you whispered.
“You’ll be swimming in no time,” he murmured softly.
He invited you round the next few days, giving you lesson after lesson. But you’d get tired at points, so the two of you would sit at the side of the pool and have lunch. You got to speak to him on a level you never had before, not when everyone else was around. He told you about what he wanted to do in the future, you told him that Robin had been your only friend for a long time; up until now.
On the final lesson, you finally did it. It was messy, water splashing, but you managed to swim from one side of the pool to the other. He stood in the water with you, just incase, cheering you on like you’d won the Olympics.
“Atta girl!” He cheered, swimming over to you. Your legs wrapped around him as he pulled you to him, both of you grinning from ear to ear.
“Did I pass the class?” You joked.
“Absolutely,” he nodded. “You get an A.”
“Any extra credit I can do for an A+?” It was a joke, you hadn’t even thought of the innuendo behind it. But you watched as his eyes flickered to your lips, your cheeks turned pink.
“I can think of one thing, but it’s a bit of a grey area. Could get me fired,” he murmured, lips now brushing against yours.
“I mean, I was your only student. You could just quit,” you whispered back.
He grinned, lips pressing to yours. You hummed into the kiss, his arms tightened around you as his lips moved against yours smoothly. He pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’d say that’s an A star.”
“Never had one of them before,” you giggled shyly.
“Well, now you have. C’mon, let’s get out of here. We could… go for dinner or something?” He suggested, the most nervous you’d ever seen him.
“I’d like that,” you murmured.
“Cool. Let’s do it.” He didn’t put you down as he moved to the shallow end, helping you out of the pool.
He leant down and pressed another kiss to your lips. You were extremely happy that you’d never learnt how to swim.
Okay could I request Steve with shy!reader staging over at his place for the first time!! Like not necessarily smut but their first sleepover so it’s awkward and careful but r has a cutie little pajama set that’s driving Steve crazy
Thank you for requesting lovely!!
Steve Harrington x shy!reader ♡ 869 words
“Steve?”
Steve straightens like a meerkat, head twisting toward your voice. “Yeah?”
Hesitancy from the other side of the bathroom door. When you speak, embarrassment tinges your voice, like you’re only asking Steve as a last resort (this is probably accurate). “Are you dressed?”
He can’t help it; he laughs. “Yeah. I’m decent.”
It’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked before, but you’re funny. You always want to keep things polite anytime Steve isn’t putting some very obvious moves on you. The bathroom door cracks like you’re checking to be sure. Steve’s wouldn’t ever be that sort of cruel, but he doesn’t object to your overcaution. He raises his eyebrows as you peer out.
“I’ve been dressed for like ten minutes,” he says. “How long have you been waiting in there?”
“Not a long time,” you reply, though your smile is the sheepish grin of a liar.
He grins back, about to tease, but then the door opens the rest of the way and his thoughts stutter to a stop.
Steve has seen you naked before, but he hasn’t seen you like this. Fresh-faced and shiny from your quick shower, your feet bare on the cold tile, and in the sweetest fucking pajamas Steve has ever seen.
It feels shockingly intimate. More intimate somehow than your nude body beneath his hands is the pad of your feet crossing his room and the sight of lace against your skin.
“You always wear these?” he asks, as you perch uncertainly on the edge of the bed. Your dropped gaze tells him enough of what he needs to know.
“No,” you answer softly.
Steve softens his voice in response. “Yeah? C’mere.” He scooches over, moving away from his side of the bed to make room for you. You can have it. You can have anything right now, probably, Steve’s head is half mush. He watches you lay down next to him with his heart thudding against his skin. “Are they new?”
“Yeah.” You smooth your finger over a crease in the pillowcase. Then, softer still, like it’ll kill you to ask, “Do you like them?”
“Yeah,” Steve echoes you, his lips tugging. The material of your pajamas is a soft-looking blue lined with gray lace, like that early morning fog in spring. They’re pretty, he’d like them anyway, but knowing you picked them out just for your first overnight stay at his place? They might be Steve’s new favorite thing ever.
He fingers the lace lining of your shorts, knuckle brushing your thigh. “You look pretty,” he says earnestly.
Your lashes flicker. Steve’s pretty sure if he pressed his fingers to your cheek he’d find it hot to the touch despite the raised bumps going down your arms. “Thanks.”
He grins. “You want to get in here?”
“Oh. Yeah, sorry.”
Steve lifts the covers, and it’s an awkward shuffle, you half crawling up onto his pillow to slip underneath them. You end up closer to Steve than you probably mean to be, the cold of your skin infiltrating his warmth.
Steve isn’t shy. He hasn’t owned pajamas since he was a little kid, and it didn’t so much as cross his mind to buy them for when he shares a bed with you. He’s grown up in locker rooms and spending summers at the pool; he’s not going to be self-conscious about wearing boxers to bed. He doesn’t torment you by asking if you like his pajamas, too.
He hisses when your icy fingers graze his abdomen. “Jesus. What are you, cold-blooded?”
“You’re so warm.” You sound surprised.
“Yeah, because I’m, like, human. What the hell? Come here.”
Steve catches your hands, folding them between his. You watch him blow hot air on your fingers with a little smile teasing the corners of your mouth. This close, Steve can smell his body wash on you. It does something insane to him, makes him encourage you closer with a hand behind your back despite the cold contact of your knees bumping into his. He wants to kiss your shoulder, but he wants you to stay here more, so he plays it cool.
You talk in whispers about your plans for the next day while Steve warms you up. You’ve got it all laid out—your perfect date, from waking up in the morning together to late in the evening. Steve secretly hopes the morning part lasts a while. He wants to keep you here as long as you’ll let him, warm and whispery beneath his bedsheets.
You start to doze before long. Words stringing together, mattress shifting as you relax into it, your hand falling to Steve’s chest. Every time you touch him is like the first, tender and asking, even now. He puts an arm around your shoulders to keep you close.
“How are you still cold?” he murmurs.
“Hm? Dunno.” You nuzzle your cheek into his pillowcase, lids drooping. “Guess you didn’t fix me well enough.”
Steve lets out a breathy laugh. Your rare bouts of audacity never fail to surprise him. “Guess not,” he says, hand splaying over your back. He relishes feeling the smooth material of your pajama top beneath his fingers. “I’ll have to keep at it.”
Robin and Nancy work together to get you and Steve on a date, you find out that all you needed was a little push
Steve was going through a rough patch, after his glory ‘king Steve’ days, it seemed no girl cared about him anymore. His reputation was already ruined by being employed at the local family video, and on top of that, all the female customers just ignored him when they walked in.
Robin prided herself on her match-making skills, the problem was that Steve was going after the usual high school hook up type. He needed someone that was looking for the same thing as him — ready to accept the slightly worn out Steve, someone to actually settle down with long-term. And Nancy had you as a friend, you weren’t all that outgoing — preferring to stay in, curled up on the couch with a book in your hands during a Friday night. But according to Robin you were perfect, you would be able to slow Steve down a bit, and “make that dingus finally get a girl.”
So they started arranging it, but Nancy and Robin had to be discreet. If Nancy told you that you were going on a date with Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, who you’ve only seen from further away, you’d be scared off and refuse to go. And Robin knew Steve was the overly excited type, he’d spend hours messing around with his hair and clothes, and overthink everything that he was going to say, not being able to act like himself.
Nancy was driving you around Hawkins, she mentioned she needed to run a couple of errands before going back to her house. But you noticed there was something weird going on with her, she was practically bouncing out of her seat, a small smile creeping up onto her face.
‘Maybe she’s just thinking about Jonathon’ you thought to yourself shrugging.
Nancy and Steve’s past relationship hadn’t gone down the best, it was full of regrets and hurtful words but she managed to move on with Jonathon. But Steve was still her friend, she knew how much he had grown these past few years, and he deserved a companion just as much as you did — someone to treat him better than she ever did.
She pulled up into the parking lot of family video. “Hey, can you grab the movie tape I told you about earlier inside? I just need to tell Robin something and we’ll be out of there.” You nodded, and followed her inside.
The store was fairly empty, you quickly spotted Nancy’s energetic friend Robin who was standing behind the counter, a wide smirk on her face. What was going on with them?
You wandered over to the rom-com section browsing for the tape Nancy instructed you to find.
You were lost in your own world, unaware of the commotion happening a few sections back. “Dingus, go help her, I’m busy right now!” Robin whisper-yelled hitting Steve’s back as he came out of the break room.
“Ouch, ok ok I’m going.” Steve yelped, spotting you across the store struggling to find a specific tape.
He walked over and your back was still turned to him, he cleared his throat awkwardly standing. “Er, can I help you with something…oh,” Steve went slack-jawed when you turned around.
He could only describe you as the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in all of Hawkins. You were holding your hands together in front of you, shifting between both feet, looking up at Steve with the most adorable look on your face. He could instantly tell you were shier than most, your eyes looked all around his face before settling on the floor.
“I-I’m good, just looking for a…movie” you squeaked out. You remembered Steve but he looked different now. He lost his youthful lean body, his shoulders were broader now, jaw sharper with light stubble coating his once clean shaven face, and his hands god. They were rougher — the veins popping at the surface, it was clear he worked now, not just lazily kicking back and letting others take over. He smiled when it meant something now, and he looked like he went through some tough moments.
“Need help?” Steve swallowed thickly.
“I…mhm,” your voice coming out as a faint whisper, a pink colored flush swallowing your face whole.
Despite your closed-off nature Steve took a step closer, he found himself unable to keep the short distance from the quiet kind of beauty that was in front of him.
“This is the one you’re looking for?” He pulled out the tape you were endlessly searching for.
Your eyes widened at the way he understood what you wanted without having to communicate it. “Y-yeah, that’s the one.” You looked into his eyes, while a soft smile spread onto Steve’s face.
He extended the tape towards you, and you reached out wrapping your fingers around it, they skimmed Steve’s own fingers but neither of you pulled back. You weren’t one for physical touch, but there was something about his warm skin against yours that found you aching for more.
Steve’s breath paused when he made contact with you for the first time, tingles spread from his fingertips straight into his chest. Unbeknownst to them, Nancy and Robin were hidden behind the counter giggling uncontrollably, and high-fived each other at their brilliant thinking.
After a couple seconds you took the tape away and held it close to your chest not sure what to say anymore. “T-thank you…you must know all your movies well.” Your poor attempt at flirting with Steve sent butterflies through his stomach, and he let out a quiet laugh shaking his head.
“Not really no, I don’t even know how I got this job. But if you keep showing up, I’ll have a reason to try and pay attention from now on.” Steve effortlessly responded, reminding you of the ladies man you once knew.
You ducked your head, cheeks darkening even further, though you smiled. You weren’t use to this type of attention, especially not from Steve Harrington, but that’s what made your heart start to quicken. Why was he so damn charming?
You turned away before you could embarrass yourself more, he was probably just being friendly, you were a customer after all. Steve rung you up but snuck glances at your face, reveling in the way you refused to meet his eyes anymore.
Nancy finally emerged and held a smug look on her face as she walked alongside you back to her car. “Sooo” she dragged out. “How’d it go!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Nance,” you tried brushing her off, busying yourself with getting your seat buckled.
“Oh, stop it! You know what I mean…” she wiggled her eyebrows at you with a knowing look. “Steve Harrington.”
You buried your face into your hands groaning, it was embarrassing just how affected you seemed, after a short interaction with the attractive man. “He’s so…” you sighed, not being able to describe so many characteristics into one word. Handsome? Flirty? Helpful?
“I knew it, you guys were made for each other. So when’s the date?” She asked getting to the point.
“What?” You screeched out. “I’m not—he didn’t, he just helped me out.” You settled on, though the warmth still swarming through your chest said otherwise.
“Practical Steve, he’s never been able to make the first move without a little push,” Nancy rolled her eyes. Was she seriously expecting Steve Harrington to ask you out? You were nothing like the girls he went for, and were you even looking to date anyone right now?
Back in family video, Steve hadn’t even moved since you left, frozen in place still thinking of your fluttering eyelashes at him. Robin tackled him, her curiosity not even trying to be hidden. “Well? Are you back in the game Romeo? You two look so cute together I’m already planning your wedding!” She was bouncing up and down.
“It was—she’s—god she’s beautiful.” Steve shook his head, about to ask Robin to pinch him out of this dream.
“What did she say when you asked her out?” Robin was beyond happy.
Steve’s eyes widened his stare turning blank. “You did ask her out…right dingus?” Robin repeated slowly, looking like she was about to seriously hurt Steve if he denied.
“Uh…I…it completely flew out of my mind.” Steve’s gaze turned downwards, regretting the past ten minutes of his existence.
“Are you out of your mind Harrington? We bring you a girl, who’s exceptionally pretty and smart, and everything you don’t deserve, and you fumble that hard? What, did you expect her to do it for you?” Robin stretched her hands out grabbing Steve by the collar, drilling her words into his head.
“Start using your brain, before I take it away from you, Steve. I’ll tell Nancy to give me her number and you will call her tonight. Ask her to go on a date. Or so help me god I will never try to help your doomed love life again. Alright?”
Steve nodded rapidly, “yes yes ok, I’m gonna ask her out.” Prying Robin off of his body.
And sure enough, Robin gave him your phone number and later that night Steve was anxiously sitting by the phone preparing to make his move.
Your phone rang once, twice, then you picked it up. “Hello?” You questioned softly, Nancy never called you this late, and there was no one else that would be willing to strike up a conversation with you right now.
“Hey…Hi, it’s Steve, from earlier today.” He spoke his words slow, thinking about them more carefully now.
“Oh, hi! How’d you get my number?” You were shocked, maybe you hadn’t been imagining things after all.
“Robin gave it to me from Nancy. Don’t worry I’m not a stalker,” Steve awkwardly laughed and you couldn’t help the giggle that creeped through the line.
“But…I actually meant to ask you something, I forgot to earlier, it’s your fault actually, for distracting me.”
Your lips parted, you were distracting? Usually people barely detected you, but Steve noticed you enough to call you hours later.
“Yeah?” You asked, your tone still not rising above a whisper.
“Of course, which is why I wanted to know. Would you go out with me, like on a date?” Steve matched your pitch, wishing he could see through the phone, imagining how hard you would blush at his words.
You were taken aback, that was definitely not what you were expecting. Maybe he got you mixed up with another person, but your heart fluttered just a little.
“Really?”
“Yeah, pretty.” Steve’s word almost made you go into cardiac arrest. He called you pretty. A boy called you pretty. Steve called you pretty. You tried not to let how hard your heart was beating show through your voice.
“Um—yes. Yes! I’d like to.” You’ve truly never felt this excited in a long time, embarrassingly you’ve never gone on a date before. Guys were never really interested in you, and although it stung every now and then, you learned to ignore it, maybe love was never supposed to be in the cards for you. But Steve made sure to keep you on your toes.
“That’s great! Amazing actually!” Steve accidentally let his excitement show, but he felt like he was on cloud nine.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, alright?” Maybe Steve should’ve asked if you were even free then, but all he wanted was to see you again as soon as possible.
“Okay, sounds good.” You agreed, looking forward to your date.
The line filled with a long moment of silence, no one making the move to end the call. You could hear his soft breathing on the other end, and found yourself wondering what he was thinking too.
“Goodbye, Steve.” You whispered, hoping that your fondness would be able to reach him.
“Bye, pretty.” Steve whispered back, and you put the phone back down screaming into your pillow.
The next day you hurriedly invited Nancy over to help you prepare, maybe it was weird she was helping you get ready for a date with her ex, but she seemed just as excited as you.
She searched through your closet for the best outfit you own, pulling out a short navy plaid skirt paired with a soft sweater. You didn’t want to look like someone different, you wanted Steve to see the real you. Nancy did your hair and applied some light makeup to your face, just enough to bring out your features.
It was slowly getting closer to the time Steve was supposed to be picking you up, and you stood in front of your mirror admiring how good you looked.
“He’s going to fall at his knees for you,” Nancy giggled, and you shoved her away gasping.
“Nance!”
“I’m only saying the truth. You’re an amazing girl, it doesn’t take Steve much to see that. Just be yourself, I know it might feel like too much, but he just wants to impress you. Don’t get in your head,” Nancy finished by pulling you into a hug.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nance, thank you, I owe you one.” You said smiling, Nancy shook her head shushing you.
She left your house with a wave and you patiently fidgeted around now, growing more restless by the minute. Then you heard it, the soft knock at your door by who you could only assume was your date. You smoothed down your skirt before swinging the door open.
You came face to face with Steve who was standing just as nervous you were, though he did a better job at hiding it. He put a lot of effort into his hair you noticed, wearing a jacket over his sweater and jeans. In his hands, Steve was holding a small bouquet of flowers, your favorite.
“Hey,” he breathed out, looking deeply into your eyes.
“Hi,” you couldn’t stop the small smile pulling at your lips.
“Hi,” he repeated, causing you to giggle. He shook his head, pulling himself out of the trance he was stuck in after seeing you looking all pretty for him.
“These are for you, I didn’t know what kind you liked, but…” Steve trailed off, handing them to you.
“They’re actually my favorite,” you tilted your head at him, moving them up to your nose to deeply inhale.
“Oh, well, looks like I’m an expert.” Steve puffed out his chest smugly.
You figured you should leave your doorway now, and he guided you to his car with a hand on your back. His touch, again.
He pulled open the passenger door for you, and once he made sure you were fully inside he shut it, jogging over to the drivers seat.
“I’d tell you where we’re going, but it’s a surprise.” He started driving, and every now and then, would take a glance at you, both of your smiles never leaving your faces.
He pulled up to a busy parking lot and a soft gasp left your mouth when you spotted a ferries wheel in the distance, Steve took you to the yearly carnival. You had always wanted to go, but going alone wasn’t ideal, and the crowds of people terrified you.
“We can leave if you don’t like these kinds of places,” Steve fully turned to you, not leaving the car yet. You felt like crying at how sincere he was being, taking your preferences into account.
You shook your head, “this is perfect, Steve.” You said, and he had to blink a couple of times at how good his name sounded leaving your lips.
He nodded rapidly and got out of the car coming around to help you out. He led you through the busy crowds, and your hands started brushing against his at your side, all you wanted was to reach out and hold his, but what if he didn’t want you to?
As if Steve was sensing your thoughts, you suddenly felt his warm hands lace his fingers through yours, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. You tried to not allow Steve to see the effect he had on you, but he pulled you just a tiny bit closer to his side, bumping hips.
“I’m not the best at carnival games to be honest, but they’re rigged anyway so who cares?” He said walking you over to a ring-stacking game.
You watched as Steve handed the worker some cash and was about to start playing before he turned to you. “Well, find a prize you like, for when I win it for you.” He winked, and you bit back a smile, shaking your head.
He squinted focusing as hard as he could, and got it in on the first try. “You see that!” He jumped, embodying an excited puppy.
“I see that, good job Steve”. You laughed. He got the next two rings successfully onto the cone and you cheered.
“Gimme that one.” Steve pointed at a small bunny plushie, looking so soft covered by fur.
He dramatically presented it to you, acting like it was gold. “For my good luck charm,” Steve bowed. You took it, giving it a light squeeze. “Hey, it kind of looks like you,” Steve teased.
You pointed at a penguin plushie, “and that one looks like you.” You teased back, Steve’s face morphing into one of shock.
“Take that back! If anything, I’m a lion” he playfully pushed you.
“Mhm sure, whatever you say.” You retorted, not able to take him seriously.
After sometime Steve took you to a cotton-candy stall, buying a huge bright pink one sharing it between you. What you really weren’t expecting though, was for Steve to pick off a big chunk and bring it to your mouth waiting to feed it to you. Your brows raised at his gesture, but you humored him moving to bite the sweet sugar from his hand.
He stared at you hungerily while you ate, and afterwards when there was some left over on the corners of your lips he lifted his thumb to gently swipe beside your mouth. “Good girl,” he muttered, low enough for only you to hear.
Burning heat rushed to your face, and Steve gave your still interlocked hand a soft squeeze, but undeniably gloated at how flustered he made you.
“‘Cmon pretty, we can’t leave without going on the Ferris wheel. I saw how excitedly you looked at it before.” He mentioned, grabbing you gently to get in line for the ride.
The sight was beautiful, you were looking up at the night sky, the wind softly blowing your hair back. You turned back to Steve who was watching you the entire time. “I had a really good time today with you, Steve.” You said.
“Me too, you look so beautiful.” He reached forward and tucked a loose strand behind your ear, getting to admire your features up close.
“Thanks…” you whispered, your gaze never leaving his honey brown eyes.
He seemed to not be able to look away from your eyes either and before you knew it, the distance between your faces was slowly closing, and you didn’t want to pull away.
“Steve,” you sighed, waiting for his soft pink lips to attach to yours.
“Yeah, baby?” He whispered, his hands not leaving your face.
“Kiss me,”
And just like that, Steve stopped over thinking every little movement, and allowed his heart to take control, his lips pressing fully against yours in the softest of kisses.
You didn’t pull away until you couldn’t breathe, but as soon as you did you wanted nothing more than to kiss him again and again.
“I want to be yours.” Steve confessed.
“I’d like that too.” You smiled wide, as he brought you into another kiss.
Nancy and Robin called it a success when they saw you two walking hand in hand the following day, exchanging low words. By the second date, he was already your boyfriend. You had finally found your person, and Steve found his.
