#and I just can’t believe you would say that about him like how unfair is that. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jiniretracha · 3 months

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Unfair - Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, teeny tiny bit of angst (if you squint), hyunjin being a softie and a romantic little shit!

Summary: After getting friendzoned, you rant to your best friend, Hyunjin, about how pathetic you are for not getting a date for Valentine’s Day. Hyunjin would never let the girl he secretly loves so much think so little of herself.

Word Count: 5.2k

MASTERLIST

“Ugh! I’m so pathetic!” you cried as you busted inside your best friend’s room. “Like, so pathetic”

Hyunjin was laying on the sofa, lazily sketching something on his notebook when he heard your cries, making his head lift up to look at you. “What happened this time?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

You sat down on the couch with a huff and crossed your legs under your butt. “I thought he was the one. And he obviously was not” you grumbled.

“Who?”

“Soobin! I can’t believe it” you face-palmed yourself. “I- God! I thought he was into me. Like, he was flirty all the time. We’d go out to eat, which I mistook as dinner dates. He’d take me to the funfair. Shit, he even gifted me that giraffe plushie which I’m obviously stabbing him til the fucking insides are laying all over my floor” you snapped.

Hyunjin was pressing his lips together to contain his smile. Not because you were miserable, no. Because you looked so freaking cute when you were angry.

“Stop smiling, Hyunjin. I feel like shit”

Hyunjin chuckled. “You’re so cute when you’re mad” he said.

“Not helping here”

“Sorry, sorry” he said, placing his hands in the air in defense. “I’m sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. Come here” he cooed, extending his arms, making you sigh and crawl towards him as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“I’m so pathetic” you whispered, feeling your eyes stinging with tears.

“What? No” he shook his head. “Do you think you’re the only girl in the world that got her heartbroken or got her hopes up over a stupid boy that couldn’t see what was in front of him this whole time?” Hyunjin rambled on. “That’s bullshit”

You felt your heart melt at his words. “Thank you for saying that, Hyunjinnie. Really, but I think this time I’m accurately depicting myself. I’m a pathetic loser”

He just chuckled against your hair. “You’re being mean to yourself”

“I deserve it”

“No, you don’t. So what if Soobin doesn’t like you like that? There are tons of other guys who aren’t blind as him” he said.

“Yeah, where are they?” you asked angrily.

Right here, Hyunjin wanted to say. “You just gotta keep looking” Hyunjin said.

You nuzzled your head into his chest, inhaling his scent. You wondered what it would be like to be with him. You obviously did. It had been three years since you met Hyunjin, and you couldn’t get over the fact that you loved him. It wasn’t every day that you make yourself a friend who’s an idol, and every single person on the planet wants and longs to be with him, so you weren’t stupid. Your chances of being with him were slim to none. You got your dose of liquid luck that got you there with him, being his friend.

“I know. But I’m just so tired of missing and missing the target over and over again” you rambled on.

“I get that. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have to keep trying, Y/N” he whispered.

You nodded. “I’ve got no date for Valentine’s. Can you believe that?” you asked, almost to yourself. “That’s what’s pathetic”

Hyunjin chuckled. “I don’t have a date for Valentine’s either”

“Yeah, but you’ll be on tour. Besides, you got seven dates”

“No, ew” Hyunjin shook his head. “I love them, don’t get me wrong. But no, I’ll pass” he said, making you giggle. The sound made his heart clench painfully in his chest. You don’t know I’d give my life for you to continue giggling like that forever, he thought. “I’m sorry I’ll be away. I was gonna offer you to be my date. Figured we could finish watching the last episodes of Daisy Jones”

You sighed. “It’s fine. You gotta be a superstar, duty calls” you giggled. “I wish I could go with you, though”

“Yeah, me too” he nodded. “Why don’t you come, though? I’ll pay for your tickets”

“I got work, Jinnie. I know you’d pay for them. You did that the two times I went overseas to watch you guys in concert. Best experience of my goddamn life, by the way” you said, making him laugh. “But, no, this time I’ll painfully pass. I love my little shop”

You had your own art supply shop, where you sold canvases, acrylic paints and all sorts of stuff that any artist in Seoul would need. Hyunjin stumbled across your shop three years ago and he loved it. He always found everything he needed for his artworks. But the best thing he stumbled across in your shop was the cute vendor that was smiling at him, asking if that was everything he’d need, if he needed assistance or the way you smiled whenever he’d talk.

The attraction he felt was so real and so scary to him, but he loved it. He felt he found the one. And that feeling didn’t change. It probably won’t. Ever.

“I know you love it. I love it” Hyunjin praised.

You lifted your head up slightly to look at him. “Really?” you asked in a small voice.

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah”

You giggled, pressing your head into his chest once again. You let out a content sigh and then closed your eyes, feeling exhausted after crying the whole way back to his apartment and putting up with your feelings for the boy your were laying on.

“You’ll stay here with Y/N, okay Kkami?” Hyunjin told his little four-legged friend that was sitting on the comforter. “You’ll be good to her, aren’t you? You like her more than you like me, anyways”

The comment made you giggle and pet Kkami’s hair. “He’s a good boy, Hyunjinnie. He’ll be okay here with me” you said.

“Yeah?”

You pressed your lips into a smile and nodded. “Absolutely”

“Great” he sighed with relief. “If you need anything, I wouldn’t say ‘call me’ because I don’t trust myself to be with my phone if you needed me, so I’ll just tell the guys downstairs that whatever you need, you can ask them. You can help yourself out with ev-“

“Jinnie” you stopped him with a laugh. “I do this everytime you go away for more than a week” you reminded him. “It is not my first rodeo”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right” he nodded. “You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Now go! You’ll be late” you scolded him, pushing him out of his room.

He chuckled and turned around, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Love you!” he called as he made his way out.

“Love you! Have fun!”

“Thank you!”

You shut the door and then looked at Kkami who was comfortably sitting on the bed. “You’re gonna be my date for Valentine’s, Kkami” you sighed.

Kkami barked at you, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. Me too” you said, pressing your fingers into your eyelids. “I miss him too. And he just left”

ONE WEEK LATER…

Hyunjinnie: everything ok over there?

You smiled as soon as you heard your phone chiming with the personalized tone that Hyunjin had chosen for himself.

You quickly typed your answer back.

You: everything’s ok!! u?

Hyunjinnie: everything’s cool. i’m having so much fun, i missed touring honestly. but i miss u as well :(

Your heart literally melted.

You: you sweet little ferret. i’ll tell the kids.

Hyunjinnie: NO! please i’ll never hear the end of it if they know i’m a softie for you

You giggled.

You: for me and Felix, isn’t it?

Hyunjinnie: Yeah, you and Yongbokkie are the only ones i’m soft for.

You smiled and left your phone next to you when you heard someone coming inside the store. As the client finished their purchase and left, you heard your phone vibrating against the counter a few more times.

After the customer left, you quickly grabbed your phone.

Hyunjinnie: so, there’s only five days left for valentine’s day

Hyunjinnie: have you found a date?

Hyunjinnie: i’m sorry i’m sending so many texts. we’re currently having a mini break from sound check

You quickly typed your response, hoping he didn’t go back to sound check.

You: yes, i actually have

Hyunjinnie: oh…

The three dots appeared and then disappeared. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Hyunjinnie: who’s the lucky guy?

You: it’s actually someone you know pretty well

You: he’s been keeping me company these days. he’s lovely

Hyunjinnie: oh

You felt weird watching him reply to you. Wasn’t he getting it?

Hyunjinnie: what’s his name?

You: His name is Kkami. a charming little man ;)

Hyunjin didn’t reply for a solid 30 seconds, the longest thirty seconds of your entire life.

Hyunjinnie: oh lol. i really thought you got a date with someone real

Hyunjinnie: tell Kkami thanks for keeping my girl company

Hold up.

My girl?

Your heart clenched. And so did your core. But you weren’t going to admit that to anyone.

You: i’ll tell him

Hyunjinnie: y/n i gotta go :(

You: nooooo!!

Hyunjinnie: i don’t want to go. but i have to. i’ll text you later, promise!!

You: okay :)

Hyunjinnie: love you! tell kkami i love him too

You: we love you and miss u too hyune!!

You sighed putting your phone down.

My girl.

Yeah, you were not going to let that go.

TWO DAYS LATER…

Hyunjin sat in his dressing room, exhausted after performing for thirty thousand people for 2 hours straight, holding his portable fan in one hand and in the other, his phone. He scrolled his Instagram feed and smiled when he saw that you had uploaded an Instagram story to your close friends.

He clicked on it and his smile got even bigger. It was a selfie that you had taken with Kkami, with a text that said: My favourite cuddle buddy ❤️.

He swiped up, quickly sending you a direct message, reacting to your instagram story.

@hynjinnnn: you two are the cutest!!

@y/n.jpg: thank u <3 we miss u jinnie

His heart melted reading those words.

He instantly clicked on your profile and started stalking your photos. It was unreal the effect you had on him. How every single time he looked at you, or thought about you, his heart would clench inside his chest. Hyunjin was so in love with you, he didn’t know what to do with it.

He clicked on a certain picture, one that did things to him. It was one that you took on a night out with your friends, wearing a short dress that made your chest pop up nicely. He licked his lips and sighed. How is it possible that a woman like you didn’t have a date for Valentine’s? Are men really that blind?

His mind instantly went to Soobin. He knew the guy. He was nice, but Hyunjin really thought the guy was dumb. Did he actually see what was in front of him? Didn’t he notice all of the things Hyunjin sees in you? How perfect you are?

Hyunjin shook his head.

He was going to do something about this. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him from you having at least a little something for Valentine’s. He’d be damned.

VALENTINE’S DAY

You woke up from your slumber and immediately put a hand on your forehead, groaning as you sat up.

“Here goes my pathetically alone Valentine’s day” you said, hopping off the bed. You opened your closet and found the dress you had bought back when you thought you were going to spend Valentine’s with Soobin. “Yeah, you suck” you sighed, grabbing it and chucking it on the floor.

Kkami watched you with curious eyes and it made you chuckle.

“I guess I’m not that alone” you said, grabbing him and taking him with you to the living room.

You put the TV on, clicking on Netflix.

“Twilight it is then” you grumbled, and clicked on it.

As you got through the middle of the second movie, someone knocked on your door.

Your eyebrows instantly furrowed. Who was it?

You peeped through the peephole and saw the delivery guy holding a huge bouquet of red roses.

What the hell?

Slowly, you opened the door and smiled slightly at the delivery man.

“Hello”

“Hi, I’ve got a delivery for… Y/N Y/L/N? Is that correct?” he said.

Your eyes widened. “Yeah, it’s- that’s me. Who are those from?” you asked.

He checked the list and shrugged. “It… doesn’t say” he said, pressing his lips together. “I’m sorry”

“No, no, that’s okay. Do I sign?”

“Yeah, here-“ he said, handing you the paper and you scribbled your sign on it. “Thank you, have a great day”

“Thanks, you too” you said, as you took the flowers from

him and closed the door behind you. “Okay, what the hell?” you said loudly.

You placed them on the counter and saw that it had a card. You quickly grabbed it and gasped.

My muse,

Someone as beautiful and amazing as you doesn’t deserve to be alone on Valentine’s day.

I hope this makes you smile.

Hopelessly in love with you,

Hyunjin.

Your eyes started to water.

‘My muse’

‘Hopelessly in love with you’

Since when?

What does it mean?

Why would he tell you like this?

There was only one way to know that.

You quickly grabbed your phone and clicked on his contact.

You: what the hell???

You: the flowers? the note? what does it all even mean, hyunjin?

You patiently waited for him to answer, and about twenty minutes later, you got your answer.

Hyunjinnie: everything.

Hyunjinnie: it means everything.

Hyunjinnie: you mean everything.

You felt your cheeks getting wet by the stream of tears leaking from your eyes.

Hyunjinnie: i wasn’t going to let my girl be alone on valentine’s day. and as i can’t be there, at least i’ll give you a bouquet of red roses.

You smiled, biting your lip.

You: this is so unfair

You weren’t going to confess to him via text. No. You weren’t going to let that happen.

Hyunjinnie: what’s unfair?

You heard your phone chiming but you weren’t paying attention to it. You were too busy opening your laptop and typing on the airplane ticket website.

Hyunjinnie: Y/N???

ONE DAY LATER…

Hyunjin’s day off was supposed to be relaxing.

But it was the complete opposite of that. He had spent the entire day sitting on the couch next to the window of the hotel room, his leg bouncing up and down and checking his phone every ten seconds to see if he had a message from you.

He had confessed his love for you.

And you said it was unfair.

What did that even mean? Unfair?

He sighed, brushing his hands over his hair, over and over again.

Hyunjin jumped when he heard a loud knock on the door.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s Jisung, open up” he heard his friend on the other side of the door.

He got up with a groan and opened the door. “What?”

“Well, hello to you to, brother. I’m fine, thank you for asking” he said with a sarcastic smile, walking inside his friend’s hotel room.

“What’s that?” he asked, noticing Jisung had something in his hands.

“You didn’t come downstairs for breakfast or lunch, so I figured you’d be hungry” he said, extending his hand and offering him a bowl of raw ramen.

Hyunjin smiled and grabbed it. “Thank you, Ji”

“You’re welcome”

Hyunjin clicked on the electric kettle and poured the hot water on the bowl.

“What’s on your mind, Hyung?” Jisung asked.

Hyunjin sighed. “I sent Y/N a bouquet of roses for Valentine’s” he said and then looked down. “And I haven’t received an answer yet”

“Oh man” Jisung sighed. “I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” Hyunjin shrugged. “I mean, it’s not, but we’ll see” he said, grabbing his ramen and eating a little.

Jisung sat on the bed. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to do anything with you being so far away” he said. “I mean, as far as I know, that girl is obsessed with you. She’s always smiling at you. Whenever we talk about you with her, her face lights up. Even an idiot can see that”

“You’d know that, don’t you?” Hyunjin tried to light up the mood.

Jisung snorted and flipped him the finger. “Ha-ha, so funny” he humorlessly said. “But seriously, I know everything will be fine. Don’t torture yourself with the what-ifs”

Hyunjin nodded, biting on his food. “Thank you, Jisung”

Han smiled. “No problem, Hyung”

He got up from the bed and patted Hyunjin’s shoulder. He got out of the hotel room and as he turned around to walk down the hall, he saw you running towards him panting heavily.

“Ji- Jisung, hi!” you whispered.

“Y/N?” Jisung asked confusedly. “What are you doing here?”

“It- it’s a long story. Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked.

“That’s his room, 806” He pointed at the door on the left.

“Thank you” you sighed.

“No problem” he said, getting inside his own room. “See ya”

You waved and then nervously walked towards Hyunjin’s room. You let out a shaky sigh and knocked on the door.

Hyunjin got up from the hotel room couch, leaving his ramen on the table. Did Jisung forget something?, he asked himself, looking around his room.

He walked towards the door, without checking who it was and his stomach dropped when he saw you standing there, panting.

“Y/N?” he stammered. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

His thoughts were cut short when he felt you tug his head down with your hand by the nape of his neck down to crash your lips against his. His brain short circuited, but quickly put his hands around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You pushed him backwards, inside his room and he kicked the door shut with a thud.

His tongue ran over your bottom lip, bringing you back to reality. You needed him to know.

“Jinnie-“ you said, breaking apart from the kiss.

Hyunjin looked at you and then back at your mouth. “What?” he asked, before pressing his lips against yours.

You smiled, pulling away, and held up the card that was delivered with the bouquet he had gifted you. “This…” you whispered. You saw his eyes flickering with anxiety. “I’m in love with you, Hyunjin. I just… I never ever thought you’d love me back” you chuckled.

He smiled and pressed a loving kiss on your lips. “Of course I am. I’m crazy for you” he smiled against your lips. “You’d think I’d let a friend sleep in my bed, with my dog, and lend them my clothes, and let them cuddle with me?” he asked.

Well, no. Now that you thought about it, the signs were clear.

“Oh…” you said, realizing it. “I’m an idiot”

“Hey. Stop talking about yourself like that, Y/N. You’re amazing. Perfect, even. And so, so, so ethereally beautiful” he mused.

You pressed your lips together, looking down at your shoes with shyness.

Hyunjin brought a hand over to your cheek, caressing it. “I love you, Y/N”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, a long one. “I love you, my Hyunjinnie” you said against his lips. “So much”

After he brought your bag inside his room, you kept staring at him with lovey dovey eyes. He then turned around and you blushed, his stare making you nervous.

As he kissed you once again, his arms came around you, turning you around and walking you towards the bed with him. He carefully dropped you on the bed while devouring your mouth, which you could barely keep up. He was everywhere. His hands were roaming every single inch of skin he could find while he drowned himself into your drugging lips.

Before dropping himself on top of you, he grabbed the neck of his shirt from the back and pulled it over his head. His toned stomach made you gasp, as you’ve never seen Hyunjin shirtless. He smirked as he noticed your reaction, and he crawled towards you, pushing his face close to yours, in an intimidating manner.

“What is, hm?” he murmured against your mouth before pressing a kiss to your lips.

You licked your lips and raked your nails over his toned stomach. “You’re so beautiful, Hyunjin” you whispered.

“Says you” he chuckled.

“Yeah?”

You felt a surprising amount of courage that made you sit up and pull your own shirt over your head, leaving yourself sitting on the bed wearing your skirt and your pretty white lace bra that you chose for the occasion in case you were to get lucky.

His eyes visibly darkened and dropped to your chest. His mouth pressing against yours with passion made you gasp against his mouth. He pressed you back against the mattress and his hands came up to grope your tits, making your back arch in pleasure.

“You don’t even know the things I’ve been wanting to do to you ever since we met” he whispered against your mouth. He then pulled away and continued his trail of kisses down your neck. “Fuck, you’re so perfect”

His words made your stomach flutter with warmth and you carded your hands through his hair.

“Hyunjin” you whispered into the air.

“What?” his voice came all muffled by your skin.

“Touch me, please” you sighed.

Your voice made his knees buckle. His hands went towards your jeans, undoing them and almost ripping them down your legs. He smirked slightly, watching you from above as you laid on the bed only in a matching set of white underwear.

His tongue came to lick his lips and then pressed a wet, long kiss on the skin of your stomach, making you gasp a little. His mouth started to trail down the kisses down your navel, and onto the band of your panties. He tugged the band with his teeth and let it snap back against your skin. His long fingers grabbed the hem of your panties and dragged them down your legs.

His gaze immediately fell on your core, and it made you self-conscious. You didn’t know why. This was Hyunjin, someone who never made you feel bad about anything. A true gentleman.

Your thoughts vanished when you felt his palms on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could get a good view of your core. He bit his lips and sighed.

“You’re dripping, princess” he murmured, his fingers scooping up some of your wetness and he pressed them on his tongue, licking them clean. “Fuck, I need to taste you”

You didn’t even have time to think, because he was pouncing on you, and started devouring your pussy like it was the last meal of his life. You couldn’t even moan properly, your breath hitching on your throat as you processed what was going on.

His nose bumped with your clit, while his tongue kept pushing in and out of your entrance. Your hands went straight to his hair, pulling every once in a while, making him moan against you.

“Hyun- Hyunjinnie” you moaned, arching your back. “Fuck”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that” he said, pulling away from you and slapping your core, making you yelp. “Say it again”

He then dove right back into business, making your eyes roll back into the back of your head, while your toenails kept digging into his back.

“Hyune” you sighed, as you felt your orgasm closer and closer. “Hyune, I’m gonna come”

“Come, baby. Come all over my face” he whispered, continuing his ministrations.

Your head violently pressed against the mattress as your back naturally arched while your orgasm hit you like a truck. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of your orgasm, lapping up every single drop and not letting anything go to waste.

With uncontrollable gasps, you opened your eyes to find Hyunjin on top of you, his face wet from your orgasm. He kept licking his lips and staring at you with the most enamored gaze ever.

“What?” you asked, with a little smile.

He pressed a kiss onto your lips and then bit your bottom lip. “Nothing. I just was admiring my girl” he said against your lips.

You smiled and your hands went down to his jeans, unbuckling his belt and trying to stick your hand inside his pants, noticing his hard rock erection against the fabric.

His hand stopped your movements. “I wanna come with you, inside of you” he whispered, making you blush.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you found a slight ounce of courage.

He smirked, his hands going over your back and unclipping your bra, carelessly throwing it away behind his shoulder. He could only stare.

He couldn’t comprehend how beautiful you were.

You felt nervous, and you grasped onto one of his hands, moving it towards one of your breasts, making him squeeze it and brush his thumb over a nipple, making you moan slightly.

His other hand joined as well, and then his mouth. He sucked at one of your tits, while the other one was being assaulted by his hand.

“Jinnie, fuck me, please” you whispered into the air.

“I will, baby, I swear I will” he muttered against your chest, moving onto the other one. “Your tits are fucking amazing, I swear”

You bit your lip to contain a smile.

He lifted his head from your chest and pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, making his cock slap against his stomach. Hyunjin was big, you weren’t going to lie. And most definitely, what you were expecting.

His hands went to the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet. He took a condom from there and quickly ripped it open, putting it on.

“I can’t believe I’m here” you said out loud.

Hyunjin finished putting the condom on and crawled back on top of you. “Believe it, baby” he smiled and pressed a long, loving kiss on your lips. “It’s happening”

You felt him nudge against your entrance and you bit your lip, holding onto his shoulders. He pushed his cock in and you gasped, arching your back.

“Fuck me, you’re tight” he whispered against your neck. “So, so tight, baby”

“You’re big, Hyunjinnie” you whispered.

“You okay?” he asked, lifting his head and letting his hands brush your hair away from your forehead, the action made your heart flutter. “Am I hurting you?”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no, I swear”

He smiled and continued with his movements, his hips kissing your pelvic bone with each thrust. You could only moan against his neck and hold on to him.

“Harder, please” you pleaded. “I know you want to, give it to me like you want to” you repeated over and over.

Suddenly, he pulled out and grabbed your hips, turning you into a face down position. He slapped both your ass cheeks and grabbed your hips, so your knees were resting on the bed with your chest flat on it. He pushed his length inside of you from behind and thrusted into you so hard it made your vision cloud with white spots.

“Yeah, fuck!” you moaned against the sheets.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asked, sweat dripping from his body. You couldn’t answer, really. You couldn’t even form a proper sentence due to his erratic thrusting. Hyunjin slapped your ass again and it made you yelp. “Answer me, Y/N”

“God, yes, I love it” you moaned.

“Good” he groaned, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into his chest. His hands went around you, one on your neck and the other one around your stomach, holding you tightly. “I love you, God, I love you” he whispered against your neck.

Your hands carded through his hair and you held onto him. “I love you, Hyune” you moaned as he kept hitting your sweet spot, over and over. “Fuck, I’m gonna come”

“Good, come around me. I wanna feel you” he groaned.

Your back arched as he kept kissing your neck, while his hands gripped onto your tits. With a long moan, you orgasmed around him, without any help from his hands.

He gently laid your body down, on your stomach, while he kept thrusting in and out of you, searching for his own orgasm. Hyunjin gripped your hips as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, baby” he kept whispering as he thrusted one, twice and then emptied himself into the condom. Once he had finished, he carefully laid next to you after taking out the condom and throwing it away inside the trash, his hand going to brush your hair away from your face, so he could stare at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fucking amazing” you sighed with a smile.

He chuckled, caressing your cheek.

You stared at him while biting your lip. “I love you, Hyunjin. So much”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips. “I love you, my muse”

ONE YEAR LATER - VALENTINE’S DAY

You opened your eyes slightly, shifting under the sheets and immediately groaning at the pain that you felt in between your legs.

It was all his fault.

He had bought you a new set of underwear and he had ripped it away from you as soon as he saw you in it. And he was the one to blame for the soreness inside your thighs.

You heard soft pattering coming from the hallway and you sat up to see your boyfriend coming inside your shared room, holding a tray with breakfast. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of boxers, which made you bite your lip at the sight.

“Hello, my muse. Good morning” he smiled putting the tray on the bed and crawling on the bed to sit next to you. “Happy valentine’s day” he whispered before kissing your lips.

“Happy valentine’s day, my sweet boy” you kissed him again and again, not able to get enough from him. “I love you. And thank you for this”

“I love you. And you deserve it” Hyunjin told you, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this. All of you. But I’m so thankful I have this. You” you told him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“God, me too” Hyunjin sighed.

You smiled, feeling so content with the life you had.

Kkami took you both by surprise by jumping on the bed, making you giggle. “Hey, little man” you smiled at the pet, who wagged his little tail and then barked.

“You wanna know what he said?”

“Oh, God. What?” you asked laughing.

“He just said, happy valentine’s day, mommy”

“Mommy? I’m his mommy?” you asked him.

“Of course” he nodded, kissing your lips. “I wouldn’t want anyone else”

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #stray kids #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin imagines

1K notes · View notes

worldlxvlys · 4 days

Note

I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)

yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk

Anyways that's all 💋

we can’t be friends

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing

a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt

i hope you enjoy

i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.

of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.

for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.

i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.

but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.

i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?

so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.

i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.

sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.

i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.

i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.

i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.

we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.

“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.

his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.

“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.

“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”

“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.

“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.

“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”

he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.

“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”

“i just can’t be friends with you”

“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.

“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”

“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.

“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”

“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.

“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.

“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.

my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.

“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.

i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”

he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.

i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”

he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.

the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.

“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”

“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”

chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.

“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.

one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.

he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.

this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.

but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.

“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.

“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.

he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.

i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.

i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.

“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.

he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.

he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.

“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.

“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.

he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.

his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.

he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.

“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.

“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.

“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.

i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.

chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.

“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.

“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.

“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.

“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.

finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.

he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.

my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.

the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.

the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.

my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.

there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.

he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.

he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.

“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.

“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.

“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.

“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.

“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.

“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.

“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.

“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.

“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.

“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.

“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.

the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.

“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.

“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.

“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.

“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”

wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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spacebarbarianweird · 3 months

Text

Baby Fangs

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.

Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs

Alethaine's age: 5 month

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.

Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.

It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.

“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”

“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”

“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”

The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.

Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?

His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?

Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.

Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.

The baby starts coughing.

Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.

Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.

There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.

Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.

“So what do we do?” he asks.

“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.

He nods.

Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.

Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”

Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.

Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.

There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.

It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.

"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."

“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”

“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”

“She is an elf like I was before I died.”

When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.

But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.

But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?

But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions. Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.

So can her parents.

“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”

Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.

Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.

“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”

Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.

Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.

Demanding.

This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.

Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.

“Tiriel, what are you doing?”

Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.

And then her dark eyes turn red.

They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.

Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.

The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.

And then Alethaine laughs.

She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.

The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.

“Astarion, look at her gums.”

Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.

“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”

Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.

But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.

Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.

Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?

Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.

** Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.

The tears prickle his eyes.

He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.

“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.

Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.

Then he hears footsteps from behind.

“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.

“Adding fangs to her toy.”

Tiriel sits beside him.

“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices

“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”

“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”

“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”

“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”

“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”

“We should have found the cure before making a child.”

“But we didn’t find any.”

Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”

“I am all pointy ears, my love.”

“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”

“Tiriel, I would never - “

“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”

“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”

“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”

Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.

“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”

The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.

Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.

He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.

"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

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beenbaanbuun · 2 months

Text

obsession w/ tattoo artist!hongjoong

words - 🪼

genre - kind of yandere i guess

warnings - obsessive!hongjoong, possessive hongjoong, literally just a toxic little guy who’s obsessed with a woman he’s just met :D

——————————————————————————

thinking about tattoo artist hongjoong who falls in love with you from the very moment you step through the door of his studio. i’m talking jaw on the floor, eyes popping out of his skull, heart beating through his chest, kind of love. like it’s bad for him…

and maybe he never considered himself to have a corruption kink until you walked in dressed head to toe in pastels showing nothing but fresh, un-tatted skin and suddenly he feels feral. all that pretty skin for him to mark as his own, and believe him, he would.

but then he gets to talking to you and he finds out you want a cover-up and all he can feel is jealousy building up because who had the audacity to get to you before he did. who had the gall to mark up your pretty skin before he’d even had the chance to meet you? it’s unfair, is what it is.

but then he finds out the tattoo you want covered is something you got with an ex, and that jealousy morphs into something else entirely.

oh, he’s fuming…

not that he shows you that, of course. you’re still a perfectly innocent angel in his eyes, even if you’re not entirely his to corrupt anymore. and because of that he needs to be soft with you. he needs to be gentle and kind because you’re gentle and kind. he can’t show you what’s underneath the surface just yet, begging to crawl out and ruin you.

so he makes you as comfortable as possible, gets you a drink, a cushion, a blanket. literally whatever you ask for he’s scurrying around trying to find because goddammit he just wants to impress you!

“so, whereabouts is the tattoo?” he finally asks, desperate to find out because he can’t see it anywhere and the thought of another person tattooing you anywhere intimate is making him sick to his stomach.

“my ribs,” you say simply. he almost chokes on his coffee.

“ribs?” he clarifies with wide eyes. he tries his hardest to keep a straight face even though his blood is straight up BOILING. a few deep breaths later, and he’s ready to continue the charade, “can you show it me? i need to see how complicated it will be to cover.”

and you comply, way too happily for his liking. if you’re this willing to show your body to him, who you’d just met, then what about other men? it’s an illogical train of thought, he tells himself, but that doesn’t really matter to him. whether he’s your tattoo artist or not, you shouldn’t be so complacent. still, despite his displeasure he watches closely as you lift your top to reveal the tattoo to him.

initials.

hongjoong’s day keeps getting worse.

“it’s a bad idea to get a boyfriend’s initials tattooed,” he mutters as he gets closer to the tattoo, rubbing a finger over it gently. your skin is so soft that it sends a shudder down his spine and he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he could touch more of it.

“sometimes you think you’re going to be together forever, y’know?”

oh, hongjoong knows. he knows that once he has you to himself, and he will, that you’ll never leave his side. he’ll do anything for you if you ask him to, and not a word of complaint will drop from his lips. how could it when he has the prettiest person he’s ever seen by his side?

“i get that,” he flashes you a quick smile from where he’s crouched by your ribs before going back to study the tattoo. shoddy ink-work, he notices, and the lines aren’t straight either. whoever did this wasn’t as good as he is by a long shot. hongjoong almost basks in the opportunity that arises for him to show off his skills. perhaps he’ll impress you enough that you fall for him, he daydreams, “so what are we thinking?”

you describe your tattoo idea to him, and he hangs onto your every word like you’re reciting poetry to him. it feels that way, your voice lilting in a way that has him sitting on the edge of his seat, begging for you to talk and talk until there’s no more for you to say. he knows that when you’re finished, it’ll only leave him wanting more. perhaps he’ll just keep asking you questions until he runs out of things to say.

“that sounds beautiful,” just like you, “and do you have a particular size in mind? obviously big enough to cover the old one but-”

you cut him off with a giggle, and he’s pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven. only angels could make a sound so pretty, he’s sure of it.

“you have free reign over everything else. size, style; all i ask is that you stick to my few design requests!”

the words almost make him cum in his pants.

free reign? over something that’s going to go permanently on your body?? holy fuck. he’s not even sure it’s possible, but he seems to fall deeper into this strange hole he’s found himself in. love and obsession and somehow lust all mingle together to create an ugly, possessive lump in hongjoong’s brain. he knows his borderline insane infatuation with a woman he’s just met is wrong, but he can’t seem to find it in him to push that feeling away. in fact, he basks in it.

“so i can just… go crazy?” you nod with a cheeky grin on your face.

“what’s one more bad mistake, right?” you shrug as if your words are nothing, but to hongjoong they’re everything. one more bad mistake leads you to him, and that’s fine by hongjoong.

“oh, honey,” he gives you a shark-like grin, “you have no idea.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong x reader

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moonstruckme · 5 months

Note

omg omg omg i can see it now, reader in the hospital hooked up to an ekg and emt!maurauders after dropping someone off sees her in the room and they go in to check on her and her pulse just skyrockets and sirius is like "oh are you still in shock?" and rem is like "...i don't think so" and then they all get so flustered and reader gets flustered and fluffffffff

Thanks for requesting!

part 1 | part 2

cw: hospital, head injury, broken ribs

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 979 words

Some of the whiplash you’d been warned about is setting in now. It’s been a few hours since the trio of unreasonably attractive paramedics had dropped you off at the hospital, and you’re stiff and sore all over. Even your knees have developed dark bruises, apparently from hitting the dashboard when you’d stopped suddenly. You don’t remember getting them.

The other doctors and nurses who’d been assigned to your care have been nice and of course highly competent, but no one has been as kind or warm as the men who’d picked you up at the scene. Ridiculous as it is, you almost miss them. There’s nothing comforting about this place, and if you can’t have the familiarity of a loved one with you, you’d happily settle for the strangers’ compassion.

The parade of hospital workers and concerned loved ones going past your room is endless, but you look up from your phone when someone stops abruptly in the doorway.

Sirius lets out a quiet oof when he crashes into James from behind, Rem simply sidestepping the both of them before coming to a stop in front of your room.

“Hey.” James grins at you. “It’s you, from the car crash.”

“Hi.” You return his smile bashfully, and Rem gives James an exasperated look.

“I’m sure she’d rather not be referred to as the girl from the car crash, James.”

“Right.” James' smile goes somewhat sheepish. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “Thanks for…uh, everything. Earlier.”

“You’re very welcome,” Sirius drawls, recovering from his collision and sauntering into the room. He gives you a not-so-subtle look over. “Just doing our job, dollface.”

The monitor connected to your finger starts beeping more rapidly, and the suave confidence saps from his expression.

“Shit, are you still in shock?”

It starts going faster. You’re pretty sure your face is getting red too. How much trouble would you be in if you just disconnected the thing?

“I don’t…” Rem’s eyes narrow, a second before his eyebrows raise an inch. “I don’t think so.”

Your gulp has to be audible.

“Oh,” Sirius says, his brow unfurrowing. He looks at you, and a smile curves his lips. “Oh.”

“Okay, the both of you fuck off.” James comes to your defense, striding over as if to forcibly remove Sirius from your beside. “Look what you’re doing to the poor girl! Remus, you didn’t have to give her away like that.”

“Better than her still being in shock,” Rem—or Remus, apparently—points out.

“It’s fine, darling,” James goes on with forced breeziness. He’s looking at you with such sweetness you’d almost believe his nonchalance if not for the quick way he blabbers on. “Honestly, it’s an unfair advantage for us that you’re the only one with a heart monitor on. Though I suppose I’m lucky I don’t have one on too, or we’d be making a pretty terrible symphony in here right now.”

It takes you a second to catch his meaning, but by the time you do he’s blushing nearly as badly as you.

He’s tossed himself under the bus just so you wouldn’t be down there by yourself.

You don’t know what to say to that, but a quiet thanks slips past your lips unchecked, and for reasons you cannot figure James’ smile softens in response.

“Anytime, love. So, what’re you still doing here?” He changes the subject hastily. “They keeping you for observation or something?”

“No, I’m just waiting for my ride to get off work,” you explain. “What are you doing here?”

Sirius grins, leaning against the wall near your bed. “We work here, babe.”

“No, I—I know that,” you laugh. It hurts your chest, and all three boys’ expressions tense with sympathy when something in your face must reveal it. “I meant, don’t you usually work in the ambulance?”

“We just dropped off another patient,” he says, so preparedly that you suspect he knew what you were really asking the first time. “Older guy, complaining of a stomach ache.” He winks. “No competition for you, sweetness.”

Christ. You’d thought they were bad when they’d picked you up, but it’s worse when you can actually process what they’re saying and doing.

“Is he okay?” you ask, ignoring Sirius’ last comment.

James gives you another one of his soft smiles. “Yeah, he’s alright. We see him like three times a week, he’s always fretting about something. But how are you, sweetheart? They treating you alright in here?”

You shrug. “I’m fine. I have some broken ribs and a concussion, like you said earlier, but I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. And of course everyone has been very nice.”

“Glad to hear it.” Remus’ voice seems soft compared to the other two, though he more matches your volume. He perches next to you on the bed, eyebrows scrunching just a little as he looks at the stitches on your forehead. “Mmm, that’s probably going to scar.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, a second before remembering his own scars. They tug a bit as his eyebrows flick upward again, and then his lips pull into a boyish, lopsided grin.

The monitor goes off again, and you cover your face with your hands as Sirius cackles.

“Sorry, lovely.” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat amused too as his hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing delicately. “We’ll get out of your hair so you can rest.”

“Thank you,” you say into your hands, removing them only once his weight lifts from the bed.

Sirius won’t stop laughing, not looking abashed even when Remus grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him along on his trajectory out of the room.

“Get well,” James says, walking backwards to follow them and giving you a smile that seems to contain, impossibly, equal parts mirth and earnestness. “I’d say I hope to see you around here again, but best not, huh?”

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lagomoz · 5 months

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Proseka headcanons

-as rui’s childhood friend, nene has extensive fire safety knowledge

-shizuku is adopted, hence why she looks so different from shiho. she was adopted shortly before the moon rabbit event and it contributed to her clinginess

-shiho forgets this fact sometimes. she’ll casually mention something like shizuku got all mom’s good genes so unfair and ichika has to be. um. shiho

-kanade is mildly nearsighted/myopic but spends so much time at her computer she hasn’t noticed

-emu is buff. she climbs multiple stories without breaking a sweat and is canonically part of the swimming, handball and rhythmic gymnastic clubs, you can’t tell me she doesn’t have some muscle

-saki helps out as a human notepad for tsukasa, reminding of him things he would otherwise forget within 5 minutes

-the vocaloids also help. at first it was unnerving to have hatsune miku be an extension of his psyche that knows his darkest secret (stole saki’s candy when he was 6) but now his phone has a more reliable catgirl themed reminder system

-you know that classic nightmare of leaving the house without pants? tsukasa has legitimately done that as a kid. he forgor. (saki will never let him live it down)

-in the kamiyama student council/hall monitor room, an has put up at sign saying “_ days since last kamishiro incident”

-the shinonome siblings both figured out the other one was gay before they figured it out about themselves

-airi’s great at trivia from her time as a variety show star. she still can’t beat minori at idol trivia, though

-ena keeps a diary with fort knox level security. try to read it and you’ll lose a finger

-saki learned to crochet from the old ladies in the hospital

-shiho’s most treasured phenny is a somewhat lumpy crocheted phenny holding a very lumpy crocheted bass guitar

-tsukasa snores. he falls asleep in 10 seconds and sounds like a dying lawnmower

-mizuki has learned a small bit of french from their sister and uses it exclusively to teach rui and an how to swear in french

-emu still celebrates her grandfather’s birthday, even if he’s not there to celebrate with her

-ena is allergic to dogs, the middle point to airi’s cat allergy and akito’s dog phobia

-rui has various small scars from his experiments over the years, but nobody ever believes the real causes (rocket launcher, robot bite, exploding balloon animal, etc.) so he just makes up a new cause every time someone asks

-mmj! has had repeated incidents of minori and airi’s little siblings walking into frame when streaming at their houses. shiho understands the concept of a livestream but has still been caught failing at creeping past like that one new broadcast of the guy crawling along the floor

-kanade has pots & eds, this one I have a reason for look at her symptoms. chronic exhaustion, heat and cold intolerance, comorbid sleep issues and depression, dizziness when standing up, fainting after standing up, very pale skin, family history of medical issues, pain at normal physical activities, exercise intolerance, vertigo at mild exertion, she just fucking dies during the entire baseball event, I could go on. she canonically gets pain in her hands from opening a jar girl that is not just being out of shape that is physical disability. this one I will go conspiracy board on listen to me I’m right

-kohane ate bugs as a kid. an is horrified, toya is confused, akito is impressed

-ena and airi got in trouble in middle school because they’d keep starting fist fights in defense of the others honor. if they saw the other in a fight they’d jump in guns blazing no hesitation no questions ask ready to throw the fuck down

-vbs!rin and len were given a skateboard by an and then promptly had the skateboard confiscated by meiko for property destruction

-haruka is horrible with slang. she asks the stream chat what poggers means and immediately uses it completely wrong, killing all viewers on impact

-minori is torn between thinking it’s cute and wanting to die

-toya has been banned from arcades before because he made them lose too much money/they suspected he was cheating

-ena brought kanade over for girls night and nearly scared akito half to death because he went down to get a late night snack and there was some Ghastly Creature looming in his kitchen

-kohane's parents stick out like a sore thumb when going to her live shows. it mortifies her that everyone on vivid street can recognize them as the only milquetoast middle aged couple dressed in normal clothes loudly going YOU'RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE that don't know the first thing about music

-minori knows basic programming. she mostly uses it for forums, blogs, html, other web design things usually related to idols as a hobby, but she's become the groups designated anti-shizuku tech support

-mafuyu has always been able to see ghosts but after adults figured she was just playing pretend as a kid so she shrugged and figured it was normal and not worth bringing up again

-honami has one of those massive extended families and somehow keeps track of them all. at any given time cousin #57 can crawl out of the woodwork and she remembers their new job, favorite food, past three romantic relationships and list of allergic reactions

-mizuki does doll customizing as a hobby. they prefer making human sized clothes, but it's fun to make them miniature too. they've introduced shizuku to it and she loves it, but doesn't have the heart to do anything that would hurt the doll (sawing limbs off, dunking them in boiling water, shoving wires in them, etc.)

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toournextadventure · 5 months

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our little secret iii

Summary: All four of you lost the bet, and now it's time to pay up. Thankfully, Maxine and Bobby-Lynn know just how to make sure Lorraine has to pay up too.

Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: swearing, smut 18+, religious talk (typical of southern states), religious trauma, period-typical homophobia Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (our little secret i) (our little secret ii) (our little secret iii) (our little secret iv)

“This ain’t sittin’ right with me,” you whispered to Beau as you tried, once again, to get comfortable in the back of RJ’s van.

Despite your best attempts, you, Beau, and Huck were currently sitting with Lorraine’s crew on the way to a location. It had been agreed by everyone - except you, obviously - that you had all lost the bet, so you should all have to own up. Although you still found it profoundly unfair that Lorraine somehow got out unscathed from the entire thing that she had agreed to.

And now you were stuck in the back of a hot, sweaty van with a bunch of hot, sweaty people that were one camera away from having relations for pay.

“We all lost, we all pay up,” Beau whispered back even as he smiled at Maxine. You rolled your eyes; he was such a suck up.

“Lorraine ain’t gotta pay up,” you grumbled, but settled back in your spot anyway.

Admittedly, you were being rather rude. You had barely said hello to any of them, and you hadn’t talked to them since the trip had started. It wasn’t their fault though, it was entirely on you. You just… didn’t know what to say to them. This wasn’t your world, and it was completely overwhelming. You didn’t care what any of them did for a living, but you hadn’t expected to be a part of it.

And if Jackson didn’t quit staring at you, you were going to lose your mind.

“You look awful familiar,” Jackson said with the slightest tilt of his head. He never stopped rubbing Bobby-Lynn’s thighs.

“Ever been a few hours south of Houston?” You asked, shifting in your spot to bring your knees up to your chest.

“Don’t believe I have,” he said with a shrug.

“Must just be a resemblance, then,” you answered.

“Leave her be,” Bobby-Lynn said as she playfully smacked Jackson’s chest. “Can’t you see you’re making her uncomfortable?”

“Do we make you uncomfortable, sweetheart?” Jackson asked.

Oh. Oh, yeah, that was very uncomfortable.

“You were in ‘Nam, right?” Beau asked, thankfully pulling the attention away from you. You supposed he was good for something.

“Yes sir,” Jackson said with a smile, pulling his dog tags out from under his shirt. “Two tours.”

“North or South?” Beau continued. Okay, maybe you didn’t want to hear so much about this anymore.

“South.”

“Y/N’s brother was in South Vietnam,” Huck chimed in. “Maybe that’s where you recognise her.”

Oh, you wanted them both to shut up. You wanted them both to hush right that instant. You looked up and instantly met Lorraine’s eyes from across the van. She was still sitting beside RJ, going over the script and whatever else she usually did. But there was the smallest tug at the corner of her mouth when she looked at you.

I hate you, you mouthed, to which her smile grew before she went back to the script.

“What’s your brother’s name, sweetheart?” Jackson asked, pulling you back into the conversation that you desperately wished would end.

Although you liked the adorable little frown Lorraine sent Jackson’s way at the use of the little nickname. Maybe you were okay with talking with Jackson. If it could get Lorraine’s feathers ruffled, then it was worth it. It was about time the tables were turned.

“Roy,” you said. “Roy Y/L/N.”

“No shit,” Jackson said. “I served with that son of a bitch.”

“Seriously?” You pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned forward. “Which tour?”

“My first,” he said with a smile.

You smiled back. “So you knew him before he…” your voice trailed off into nothing as your eyes slowly lowered to the floor of the van and your smile fell.

Before he went crazy. But you couldn’t say that out loud, could you? Your daddy had done his best to make sure you all knew not to mention Roy’s “affliction.” A test from God, he had called it. He used it as nothing more than a piss poor excuse to remind everyone that that’s what happens when you fall from faith. What would he say about you?

You just kept your mouth shut and rested your chin on your knees.

“He caught the combat trauma,” Huck said in a far softer tone than Beau ever could have managed.

“Now that’s a shame,” Jackson said with a shake of his head.

“Heard it happens more than you think,” Maxine called out from the front seat. It was probably the first thing you had heard from her since… Well, it was the first thing you had heard. “They all come home different.”

Oh, you weren’t so sure you liked this.

“You can’t come back different,” Bobby-Lynn said with a humourless chuckle. “Besides, it ain’t even real, is it?”

“They said it is,” Maxine continued, finally turning around to face everyone. “Put it in their little book last year, called it PTSD or somethin’ like that.”

You didn’t like this topic at all. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and your grip around your knees tightened. They didn’t get to talk about this like it was nothing of impact to you. Hadn’t they just heard Huck say Roy had this… this combat trauma? And they were going to act like nothing was wrong?

Everyone around you continued to talk about this new PTSD thing that was starting to make its rounds. It felt like someone was watching you. Without lifting your head, you looked up and were instantly met with Lorraine staring at you with that look that she had never grown out of. A look that she gave you every time you would be forced to talk about Beau as if he were the love of your life. A look of pity.

And you hated pity.

“Hey,” Jackson said, a little softer than everyone else’s ongoing conversation. He nudged your foot with his to get you to look over. “If you want me to talk to him, man to man, just let me know.”

His smile was more genuine than you had seen from a stranger in a long time. But there was no comfort in it because his offer was empty. You had no doubt he was being genuine, but how were you going to invite him over and have him talk to Roy without Daddy figuring out? The times were changing, but Jackson was a… certain type of man that you knew Daddy would never happily allow in his home. You and Roy were already scourges upon his land - though he still didn’t know your secret - so how could you possibly invite Jackson over with a clear conscience?

“Thank you,” you said instead, your smile far more convincing than your own thoughts.

The rest of the trip was, by all accounts, uneventful. That blasphemous talk of trauma and war had changed when Lorraine decided it was time to talk about the script. And even as she and RJ went over everything with their stars, and you were faced with the reality that you were truly, painfully alone, you still felt some sort of peace.

You would almost go so far as to say you felt comfortable.

Until you got to the shooting location.

“Are you serious?” You whisper-yelled at Lorraine when you both got out of the van. “You should have told me.”

“Would you have come?” She shot back, quickly shooting a fake smile to Beau and Huck when they passed. “Besides, we’re usin’ the building beside it.”

“You’re full of shit,” you mumbled as you looked up at the steeple of the small chapel.

By all accounts, it was a splendid little church. With a single steeple at the front of the roof and an elevated cross in the back, it almost reminded you of the one at home. Double doors that doubtlessly opened into a small worship room that held eight pews at most before ascending into the podium. A setup not unlike your own church back home, except this one didn’t house the guilt you couldn’t shed.

Beside the church was the parsonage, looking just as you knew them to look. Small, a little run down, painted a white that felt forced upon the environment. The paint was chipped and the window shutters were slightly askew, but it seemed to fit the rather bleak landscape behind it. Not ugly, but not exactly pretty either.

“Whatcha think?” Wayne asked. You jumped, but quickly regained composure. “Ain’t she pretty?”

“It looks cozy,” you said with a shrug. “You’re filmin’ in the parsonage, right? Not the church?”

Wayne laughed. A big hearty laugh that reminded you of all the sweet older men out at the rodeos. The ones that told you you were being ridiculous, but they were going to do their best not to openly tell you. It was a joyous laugh that was both humiliating and comforting simultaneously.

“I nearly forgot Church Mouse said you were a preacher,” he said once his laughter had subsided enough for him to talk.

“Church Mouse?” You asked.

“We’re usin’ the parsonage,” he continued, practically ignoring your question. “We’re not intendin’ to disrespect you.”

He clapped you on the shoulder and cocked his hip. You could see why Lorraine liked him. Overconfident, cocky as hell, but his smile always seemed genuine. Somehow, some way, he had seemed to be in a good mood the entire trip and even now. Optimism at its finest. You wished you could match it.

“Although I do have a favour to ask you,” Wayne said, his voice carrying a lilt that had your stomach churning.

“Yes?” You asked even though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to know.

“Think you can pray over this little set of ours?” He asked. “Help us break this bad streak we got goin’ on?”

“Oh,” you said with a huff, followed by a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I can do that then.”

Wayne smiled with his teeth and tipped his hat. “Thank ya kindly.”

You kept your eyes trained on the doors of the chapel while Wayne walked away, presumably to help set up whatever it was he was needing to set up. You could pray over the set. It was a little blasphemous to use prayer for something so… risque, but you weren’t a prude. After all, Daddy had always said everyone could use a little prayer.

The handle on the door was a beautiful polished silver; spare no expense for a house of God, of course. Hypocrites, the lot of them. But it was nice to open the doors without even the slightest resistance. Nothing was more terrifying than a run down church with creaky doors. It was like walking into a horror movie.

Your boots echoed off the empty wooden walls of the chapel as you walked down the center aisle, taking in everything about the building. It was a rather beautiful church, you wouldn’t try to deny it. A single, small stained glass window hung above the podium. It would cast a beautiful coloured light where the preacher would be standing on Sunday mornings.

There were three steps up to the podium before you stood behind the lectern and looked out onto the ghostly congregation. Not a single soul was inside the building, but from your spot above the room, you could feel the eyes on you. Momma, Roy, Jimmy. Granma and Granpa were in the back, followed by friends, family, everyone in the congregation that knew you excruciatingly well.

Then there was Daddy, sitting in the aisle of the front pew, watching you with that judgmental look. The one that he gave when he was condemning someone to hell for their sins. And he was looking at you, like he could see through your physical form, all the way to the filthy soul you hid underneath it all.

“You can’t wash away sin,” Daddy said.

You couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t-”

“-There you are.”

The entire congregation disappeared as soon as you saw Lorraine standing in the doorway. Light from the setting sun illuminated her outline, almost a perfect copy of the angel painted above the doorway. And she was. She was an angel, one that you would worship even as you were cast into the pits of hell.

“Thought we lost you,” Lorraine said as she walked down the aisle with far more confidence than she had at home.

Your breath caught in your throat when she finally stepped out of the light in a startling white dress. It looked far too close to a wedding dress. It didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t quit staring. She looked so beautiful. Her smile was illuminating; it left your palms sweaty and your chest hurt-

-you gasped and pulled your hand away from the wooden lectern. The smallest splinter was stuck in your right index finger. It was easy enough to pull out, leaving behind a scarlet drop of blood that grew until dripping down your finger.

“Are you alright?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but when you looked back up Lorraine was in normal clothes. The very same ones she had worn on the trip over. The one she had never changed out of. Right. Maybe you really were crazy.

“I’m fine,” you said with a simple nod. “Just-” you sighed “-doin’ what Wayne asked.”

“Didn’t think he was a praying man,” she said with a frown. “Want some company?”

“Yeah,” you said with a soft smile. “Yeah, I do.”

As you walked down to the bottom of the three steps to meet Lorraine, the blood from your finger smeared across the finely polished wood. You left a stain on that church, same as your own. A stain that, as your Daddy constantly preached, you could never wash away.

—---

“You’re lookin’ a little green, sweetheart,” Huck whispered as he walked up to where you were standing in the back of the room.

“I’m not green,” you whispered back even as you continued to watch the scene unfold before you. “I just- I didn’t know the body could do that.”

“You’re such a preacher’s kid,” he said with a teasing lilt. Thankfully that was all he said before he crossed his arms over his chest and looked forward.

It wasn’t your first time seeing people having sex. You weren’t a complete fool, you had seen it before. Kind of. Okay, maybe it was the most tame sex in the world, but you had seen it! And you weren’t some sort of virgin either, so you weren’t totally in the dark. But you certainly hadn’t seen this before and it was… fascinating.

And a little concerning. Your head tilted. How did it even fit? Did Bobby-Lynn even genuinely find it enjoyable? Well, okay, after that noise you could believe that maybe she did. But all that other stuff, there was no way. No way at all- wait, that actually looked interesting. You wondered if Lorraine would like that.

"You're starin'," Huck whispered.

"I can't help it," you shot back. "It's like when you pass a car wreck. You can't look away."

"I think they would die if they heard you compare watchin' smut to a car wreck," he laughed. It was a little loud, you hoped the boom mic wouldn't pick it up.

"Where's your little boy toy?" You asked, hoping to take the awkward attention away from yourself. Even though you still couldn't look away from the scene. God, you hoped it was over soon.

"Your boyfriend," he said pointedly, "is downstairs talkin' with Maxine."

Oh Maxine. You had only known her for a few days, but you were starting to think she enjoyed stirring up trouble. Within moments of getting set up in the parsonage, she had made friendly with Huck and Beau. A little too friendly. You would have laughed about the whole situation if you hadn’t been attempting to act jealous to keep up the facade.

“Reckon I should go act the part of the jealous girlfriend, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah you should,” he whispered. “Though I doubt anyone will believe it with the way you’re watching your dear Rainey over there.”

You hated him for even bringing it up. So what if you had stopped watching Bobby-Lynn and instead watched Lorraine? The way she gently blew a few strands of hair out of her face while she held the boom mic as steady as you had ever seen. She wasn’t muscular by any means, but you could still see the tone in her shoulders. Or the… the little crinkle between her brows when she focused…

Okay, Huck was right, you needed to leave.

“Told you,” he said as you backed out of the room with a hellish heat in your cheeks.

As soon as the door closed behind you and the pornographic sounds muted, you could finally breathe again. Your mind was clear and you could walk down the stairs without a thought in your head. Well… maybe you had one or two thoughts, but it was okay. You could repent later at the chapel.

Maxine’s laughter was… almost adorable, if she wasn’t trying so hard to seduce Beau. Her nails lazily scratched up and down his bicep, and her face was embarrassingly close to his ear. If you had loved him the way you were supposed to, you would’ve been furious. Should have been furious.

You pictured Lorraine in Beau’s position. Sitting there with Maxine all over her, laughing at the unfunny jokes, leaning a little too close. It made your stomach turn. Your skin was hot and clammy and something pounded inside your head, screaming to be let out. There would have been no shame in your body for grabbing her and dragging her away.

Okay, there you go. Now you had the right feelings.

Your mind had already forgotten Lorraine wasn’t there when you sat in Beau’s lap. Like a good girlfriend should do, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close, inhaling his scent. Sawdust. Something you supposed other women liked, which made him a downright tease.

“How’s your first smut viewin’ goin’?” Maxine asked, which instinctively had your nose scrunch before you regained composure. “That good, huh?”

“It ain’t bad,” you said. “Don’t think I really understand the appeal, though.”

“What part is… unappealing to you?” She asked, her voice far softer than necessary.

The way she leaned in closer, trailing her eyes over every inch of you… and maybe you could see the appeal. It was something about her hand that had moved from Beau’s arm to yours. Soft. Almost too soft, but you didn’t want it to stop. And she held eye contact like it was an art-

-oh, Maxine was dangerous.

“Oh,” Maxine said with a small smile, “so that’s what it is.”

What was that supposed to mean? You opened your mouth to ask, but the stairs started creaking from the heavy footsteps. The skin underneath Maxine’s fingers felt terribly cold when she pulled back. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t pull back before Lorraine appeared, her brows furrowed and eyes glued to her coworker.

Maxine just smiled.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” Lorraine asked. Anyone that didn’t know her well would have missed the slight elevation in her tone. A dangerous tone.

“Just learnin’ a bit about each other,” Maxine said. Her hand rested on your arm again and you felt a heat in your cheeks. “Since we’re stuck here together and all.”

Like the dutiful girlfriend, you hid your head in Beau’s neck and tried to ignore his slight shake of silent laughter.

That tension didn’t end even as the sun set and stars came out to play. Everyone relaxed and had their fun and it reminded you of nights with just the four of you. Laughing, teasing, seeing Huck and Beau get closer than when they were at your house. Not too close, but it was still enough. Hell, it was almost enough to ease the usual anger from Lorraine being with R.J.

Until a few days later when it was time for everyone to start paying up on their lost bets.

The days had already started off miserably. Since you were “officially” Beau’s girlfriend, you were set to share a bed with him. But when Huck snuck in and you all tried to fit three people on a twin size mattress? Well, that was just borderline impossible. Clearly it wasn’t fully impossible, seeing as how you all made it work, but that didn’t mean you actually slept at all through the night.

Tack onto that Lorraine and R.J. coming down at the same time each morning, and you realised that you were horribly, terribly alone? You would have killed someone to get even just a single blanket and a big empty spot on the floor. Let you lie like a dog while everyone else became stars.

The first to suffer was, of course, you. Now, you would admit, you had offered to pay up first. In your convoluted train of thought, the sooner you watched Lorraine’s scene, the sooner you could forget it. At least that was what you believed would happen. You hoped that’s what would happen.

But in the moment, as you watched Lorraine getting ready, you knew it wouldn’t be quite that simple. You had to watch her move, see the look on her face, listen to her moans. She certainly never sounded like that when you were with her. Was this something that she genuinely enjoyed? Were you nothing more than a pleasant distraction when she was practically forced to go back home?

“I can’t do this,” you whispered to yourself.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as everyone watched you back out of the room, practically tripping over your own feet in your haste. Each step felt like the ground was rushing up to meet you, even as you stayed perfectly upright. You wished you would just trip down the stairs, maybe then it would ease the spiraling of your thoughts.

Downstairs wasn’t much better when you were still aware of exactly what was going on upstairs. Did you mean anything to her? Really, truly? Surely you did, Lorraine was hardheaded, she wouldn’t entertain your presence if she didn’t want you there. On the other hand, she kept RJ around for nothing, so maybe you were on the same level.

You picked up one of the books you had found the other day; some book called The Dead Sea Scriptures. It wasn’t all that fantastic, your daddy actually had a copy in his office at the church. But at least it was a distraction. Just like you. Okay, that certainly wasn’t helpful. Maybe you needed a stiff drink too.

The Hollywood grade acting you did was enough to convince everyone you were just peachy. No one batted an eye when RJ, Wayne, and Jackson left the parsonage after finishing Lorraine’s scene. To get some more groceries, they had said. You didn’t care, it really didn’t matter one way or another where they went.

“So,” Maxine said as she sat down beside you on the couch. Well, she practically sat on you. “You’ve got some explainin’ to do.”

“I’m not explainin’ the book of Job,” you said without looking up from your book. “Jackson already believes there’s a dragon in it and I can’t have that argument again.”

“Not about that, silly,” she said; her hand was hot on your knee. “About you bein’ a third wheel.”

Oh you were not getting into that kind of conversation with Maxine. The past few days had been wonderful, and truthfully you had enjoyed it. They were all a bit… extravagant, but they were kind. As odd as it sounded to you, they felt more like family than most of your own family. You could see why Lorraine spent so much time with them even when she didn’t have to.

But you enjoying their company did not mean you wanted to get into the whole relationship conversation with Maxine.

“Your boys are some of those queers, huh?” She asked. “That’s why they’re up there filmin’ some fake scene while you’re down here.” Her hand squeezed right above your knee. “Readin’ some nerdy little book.”

“It was a bet,” you said. “We’ve always paid up, ever since we were little.” She smirked. “And my book ain’t nerdy.”

“It bother you that you gotta share your man?” She asked, as if you hadn’t even said anything in the first place.

“I-”

“-did you really start without me?” Bobby-Lynn asked when she appeared in the downstairs living room.

You did your best to conceal your displeasure when Bobby-Lynn practically ran over to sit on the other side of you. Her legs were bare, her denim shorts barely covering any part of her. She swung them over your own legs quickly, leaving you officially trapped underneath the both of them. You would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach flip.

“How far did ya get?” Bobby-Lynn asked. She was practically bouncing in excitement.

“We just started,” Maxine answered with a smile that would have made you squirm if you weren’t so focused on trying to figure out what was going on.

“Don’t y’all have scenes to shoot?” You asked in a desperate attempt to get them to leave you alone before they really got started.

“Don’t you have someone you should be thinkin’ about?” Maxine asked.

You opened your mouth instinctively, ready to argue, especially when Bobby-Lynn continued to lean closer. They both had some nerve to believe they could catch you off guard with their interrogation that was only just beginning. They had known you for, what, all of a few days? And still they thought they could get something like this out of you? They were pornstars, not detectives.

“Of course I’m thinkin’ about her-”

-maybe they were detectives.

You threw your head back against the couch, a groan leaving your lips. On either side of you, both women practically cheered, giving each other a high-five. It was disgusting, were you nothing more than a pawn in whatever game they were playing? Your daddy was right; couldn’t trust sinners.

You actively ignored the fact that you were one of them.

“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

“It’s not like we couldn’t tell,” Maxine said.

What was that supposed to mean? How did they even notice? As far as you could remember, you hadn’t even spent hardly any time in the same room as Lorraine. How could they get some sort of scandal out of that? Let alone the fact you thought you had said maybe three words to her after she had helped you pray over set on that first day. No, none of that made sense.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you said as you finally pulled yourself back upright, ignoring that Maxine’s and Bobby-Lynn’s faces were so close to yours they could kiss your cheeks if they wanted.

“You think every girl is fine with their boyfriend hookin’ up with another guy?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

You knew that would be the issue. You knew it, and you had told all three of them that it was shady at best. There was no logical reason for it, even if it was from some stupid bet. It may have been the 80s, but not everyone was as easy going as the four of you were. Not everyone was as understanding, and though that wasn’t the current issue, it still played its part.

“Not to mention all the lookin’ you’ve been doin’,” Bobby-Lynn chimed in. “You certainly ain’t lookin’ at Beau that way.”

“I-” you closed your mouth just as quickly as you had opened it. What were you going to say to argue? What could you say?

“Honey, we ain’t judgin’,” Maxine said. Her hand felt warm on your neck. She was far too close for comfort. “But this whole thing is pretty sad.”

“It ain’t that sad,” you pitifully attempted to argue.

“Darlin’, it’s downright painful,” Bobby-Lynn said. Her going back and forth with Maxine was giving you whiplash. “Ain’t never seen anyone pine like that.”

“It’s a bit pathetic,” Maxine said.

“Hey,” you said, your eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Hold your horses, that’s unnecessary.”

“Don’t be gettin’ so defensive,” Bobby-Lynn said with a smile that was to die for. “We’re here to help.”

“By throwin’ my self-esteem out the window?” You asked.

“Oh no,” Maxine said with a slowly growing smile, “it’s much better than that.”

This time, when your stomach twisted into knots again, you didn’t feel quite so dreadful about the upcoming plans.

—---

After Bobby-Lynn and Maxine had told you about their sneaky little plan, the parsonage had felt a little less like a prison. When all the guys got back and everyone finished upstairs, you almost felt at peace. There was still the lingering tension when both Lorraine and RJ were in the room, but you could work with it. And for once, you didn’t feel quite so bad when you met Lorraine’s eyes.

“How many scenes we got left?” Wayne asked when everyone settled downstairs for supper.

In a very selfless move, you had offered to cook. It certainly wasn’t because you didn’t want to have to look at anyone while Bobby-Lynn and Maxine got to work on their plan. That would have been selfish, and you were nothing if not a good, selfless, Christian girl.

“Only two or three, we can finish them tomorrow,” RJ said from his spot beside Lorraine on the couch.

“Me and Maxine have an addition to make,” Bobby-Lynn said.

“An addition?” Wayne asked. “What kind?”

“Well,” Maxine said, drawing out the word for longer than necessary, “we were thinkin’ our little Preacher would look awful pretty on her knees.”

“Excuse me?” Lorraine asked.

Suddenly, the food you were cooking required the utmost attention. It would be quite the shame if you burned something. After all, everyone back there was working rather hard on their scenes, they deserved a good meal, didn’t they? And if it gave you an excuse to not see the look on Lorraine’s face then, well, that’s just an added bonus.

“Fitting, ain’t it?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

“And we’d take good care of her,” Maxine drawled. Oh, they were really testing the waters.

It seemed to be working.

“She’s not part of this,” Lorraine said.

“Wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” RJ said. “Might draw more attention to the film.”

“It’s smut, RJ,” she continued, “it draws enough attention on its own.”

“Well hold on now, let’s talk this out,” Wayne said.

Everyone started talking - except, you noticed, for Maxine - and you almost wanted to laugh. If you had known this was all it would take to get Lorraine on edge, you would’ve said something like this ages ago. It sounded like she didn’t even care that RJ was in the room. It was… a nice feeling.

“Did you plan this?” Beau asked, suddenly appearing beside you.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you said softly with a shrug. “Everyone here has a mind of their own.”

“Well keep it up,” he said as he rested his hand on the small of your back, “because I think it’s workin’.”

“The answer’s no,” Lorraine said.

“Well why don’t we ask her?” Bobby-Lynn said.

Silence fell over the room quickly; it was suffocating. If you could have, you would have slunk away to the room you shared with the boys. Even before turning around you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. Maybe, if you were really lucky, you could get away without actually answering the question.

That possibility was struck down the moment you turned your head to look out into the room.

Lorraine was looking at you expectantly, most likely believing she knew what you were going to say. In any other situation, she would have been right. You wanted no one but her, and everyone was more than aware of it. Well, everyone but Wayne, RJ, and potentially Jackson. Though judging by the way Jackson was looking at you, he knew too.

“Might be fun,” you said with a shrug and turned back around. “I can always repent next door.”

“Are you serious?” Lorraine asked.

At that you turned back around and leaned your hip against the counter. Was she really going to question you? After what she did for a living? Not once had you ever judged her for it, you had even helped her make light of it when she felt guilt creeping in. She had the nerve to question you?

“Like a heart attack, honey,” you said with far more confidence than you felt.

The look Lorraine gave you was deadly.

“Seems we got our answer,” Maxine said.

Lorraine missed the look she gave Bobby-Lynn.

—---

You hadn’t been asleep for long when the door of your room creaked open. Part of you wished it would have stayed closed; it was the first night you weren’t sleeping on the floor while Huck and Beau took the bed. Maxine was becoming a godsend; she’s the one who had convinced the boys to sleep in the van outside.

“Are you asleep?” Lorraine asked quietly after the door had clicked shut.

“Yes,” you said even as you sat up and looked at her.

She was in the nightgown you remembered getting her for her birthday. Her other one had been so old, there was no way it had even been comfy anymore. Not to mention she had made sure to let you know at every opportunity how badly she needed a new one. Clearly RJ hadn’t listened, so you had gotten it yourself. It was mighty cute, if you did say so yourself.

Lorraine tip-toed her way to the bed, whispering a quick “scoot over” before crawling underneath the covers with you. Even though the temperature outside was mild, her feet were freezing. Which she made sure to make you aware of when she stuck them against your legs, her smile taking over when you yelped and shivered.

“Were you serious about doin’ a scene with Bobby-Lynn and Max?” She asked as she reached out to force her folded hands between yours. She was freezing all over.

“Depends,” you said even as you started trying to warm up her hands. “Were you bein’ serious about tellin’ me no?”

“Of course I was,” she said indignantly.

“Then so was I,” you said.

Lorraine groaned. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” you said just as quickly.

Even though you weren’t serious at all. That was never the actual plan. The plan was simply to get Lorraine jealous enough to come into the room and, what would you know, that’s exactly what she had done. Even if absolutely nothing else happened, you would be happy. At least you got to spend a night with her without having to keep it a total secret.

“Why would you want to do this?” She asked. “It’s not like you don’t know how it works.”

“Maybe I want to learn a few things,” you said with as much of a shrug as you could do lying on your side.

“What could you possibly learn from smut?” Lorraine asked. “It’s all fake.”

“Were all those noises you made fake?” You asked. “Cause you never do that with me.”

The look on her face was almost offensive. Her eyes lit up like she was in on some little secret. Was she really going to laugh at you? She never laughed at you, not even when she rightfully should. Her hand now cupping your jaw was not enough to distract from the fact she was laughing.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” She asked. “You think I don’t like havin’ sex with you?”

“Not that you don’t like it,” you said quickly. “Just that,” you sighed, “you don’t like it as much.”

Her thumb brushed against your bottom lip. “You make me feel things none of those guys could even dream of.”

“Well you have to say that now,” you said as you leaned further into her hand. “Otherwise I wouldn’t let you put your cold feet on me.”

Her smile slipped to something a little different, a bit more seductive. You didn’t put up any resistance as she used her elbow to push your shoulder until you were laying on the bed. With the same ease as you had seen numerous times, she followed, her legs on either side of you and her weight resting comfortable on top of you. A position you very much loved, even without the arousal that came with it.

“Is there any way I can convince you not to film tomorrow?” Lorraine asked, lowering her tone in such a way that had you squirming underneath her. “What can I do?”

God you were pathetic, she hadn’t even touched you yet.

It was supposed to be a simple question, but you took it to heart. Of course she could convince you, you weren’t planning on filming anyway, but what could you get out of this arrangement? There had to be something you truly wanted, especially now that you had some sort of leverage.

Ah. That was it.

“Somethin’ we haven’t done before,” you said. “Somethin’ you like.”

Her smile slowly grew as she thought of what she wanted. The weight on top of you shifted until her hands pressed your shoulders further into the mattress. You felt her breath on your lips before you felt her kiss, quick and soft and eager. It was enough to get your heart racing even when she pulled away. She was off you in a moment, practically running out of the room.

You sat up on your elbows and watched the open door. What was she doing? Surely she wasn’t going to just leave, right? No, she wouldn’t do that. Right? That had been one of her more mischievous smiles, and she was absolutely one for payback. But you also knew Lorraine was nothing if not eternally aroused, so surely she wouldn’t just leave.

At least she better not, because if she teased you like that only to go and get back in bed with RJ, you were going to lose your mind. You weren’t usually one to make a scene, but you could always make an exception. The wrath of God, and all that good preacher nonsense.

You’re in a house of sin.

Yes you were, and you were going to partake in it for the night. Repentance was only 50 feet and a few hours away. If Lorraine could remove her cross necklace during scenes, surely you could remove the guilt from your chest for a few hours. God may have been in the walls, watching your every move, but He could look away for the time. You were far past the point of caring.

By the time Lorraine came back into the room, you were already jittery. Her hands were behind her back as she closed the door quietly, the click almost inaudible. that mischievous smile was back, but you noticed the way she tapped her foot against the floor, still in the same spot.

“You promise you wanna try somethin’ new?” She asked, her voice uncertain, carrying over the thick air.

“I’m sure,” you said, “just get over here.”

Her steps were slow, methodical on the straight path to the bed. The whole way her hands stayed behind her back. You wondered what she had, but you couldn’t think too hard. Hell, the sway of her hips could have made you forget your own name.

That familiar weight settled on you again as Lorraine straddled you, placing whatever was in her hands off to the side, just out of your sight. When you tried to twist and look at it, she pressed down against your shoulders again, her lips instantly finding yours.

Her nightgown rested high on her thighs, and you were never one to keep your hands to yourself. She sighed when you slid your hands under her nightgown, resting on her hips. Her breath tickled on your cheek. You couldn’t hold back your quiet chuckle, which Lorraine returned, smiling into the kiss.

“Don’t tickle,” she mumbled against your lips.

“What,” you said just as softly, “that ain't romantic?”

She laughed again, eliciting the same sound out of you as your hands continued up. Your knuckles brushed against the underside of her breasts, transforming her laugh into something a little more breathy but no less joyful. A sound that, you decided, was much better than anything you had heard during her scene.

“Take it off, Raine,” you said.

“What's the magic word?” She said before sitting up straight.

“Please,” you said breathlessly.

She barely waited for the word to leave your mouth before she pulled the nightgown over her head. Every time you saw her undress was like the first time. Your heart raced as she uncovered every inch of skin, from her thighs to her hips to her breasts. Not a single space had been neglected by you in your times together, and you weren't going to start that night.

You sat up, keeping a hand on Lorraine's back to keep her in your lap. She didn't hesitate to grab your face and pull you into a kiss. It immediately shot a wave of arousal down your spine, pooling in your lower abdomen. And for once, that usual spark of guilt was absent.

“Yours too,” she barely managed to say between kisses.

You couldn't speak, simply nodded as you fumbled around like a teenager. Or course the hem of your shirt would hide from you on the one night you not only had Lorraine, but a bed. She laughed again and pulled away. You tried to chase her - you would always try to chase her - but she pulled back again and placed a finger to your lips.

“Let me help,” she said.

Her fingers were so light against your skin that it tickled. She found the hem of your shirt quickly but took her sweet time pulling it up. Those delectable nails of hers scratched against your skin the entire time. Over your sides, the sides of your breasts, the underside of your arms as you held them up for her to finish pulling the shirt off.

“Is this Beau’s?” She asked.

“It’s comfy,” you said meekly.

She tossed the shirt to the side. “You should wear one of mine sometime.”

“I thought you liked me better shirtless,” you teased.

“Maxine has a word for people like you,” Lorraine said when she pulled you back in for a kiss. “She'd call you a minx.”

“I like it,” you said, kissing her back and running your knuckles over her nipples. Her shiver was delightful. “Sounds downright sinful.”

“Stop talking,” she said.

And oh god you did. How could you even consider doing anything else when you were enveloped by her? Her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin, warm against yours. If kissing her was the final nail in your coffin, you would accept death gracefully and with no regrets.

She nipped your lip when you lightly pinched her nipples. Never hard enough to hurt, no, but just enough to draw the most perfect little yelp from her lips. In return, her hands fell to your ribs, pushing against you until you were laying on the bed again.

You shifted, pulling your knee up until you pressed against her. She let out a breathy sigh, but otherwise kept kissing you. There was just something mesmerizing about the way she tasted. An ambrosia not for the gods, but for you alone. A sustenance for your very mind, body, and soul.

“Take these off,” Lorraine said, pulling lightly against the pants that you had also stolen from Beau.

In your defense, he was your fake boyfriend.

“Will you take yours off?” You asked even though you had already started trying to take your pants off.

She nodded hastily. “I want to feel you for a moment.”

You would've happily let her feel you for as long as she wished. All she had to do was give you the smile she was giving you in that moment. The one she had before the accident, the one she saved exclusively for the times she was alone with you. If she looked at you like that for the rest of eternity, you would be in heaven.

Her skin was hot against yours as she laid completely on top of you. On instinct, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and back as she tucked her head into your neck. Her breath tickled your collar bone, but you couldn't have been happier.

How could such peace be a sin? Such pure love, something that would not only be applauded but praised if you had but been born a man? What difference could there truly be, aside from the shape of your body. The guilt sparked in your chest once again, but this time, you quickly stomped it out.

You would not be shamed for loving Lorraine. Not that night.

The position you were both in was comfortable and, quite frankly, innocent. But that didn't ease the inferno that was still raging inside you. If you had the ability to have Lorraine to yourself more than once in a blue moon, you would have been satisfied. But the “lust of the flesh,” as daddy called it, was as present and angry as always.

Thankfully, Lorraine seemed to feel the same when you felt her hips move and you felt her arousal on your thigh.

“Wanna try somethin’ new?” She asked, placing a seemingly innocuous kiss behind your ear.

“With you?” You asked. You placed your finger under her chin and lifted her face until you could see her eyes. “Always.”

She smiled and kissed you quickly before sitting up. You tried to sit up with her, but she used her bad hand to push you back down with ease. Not that it stopped you from trying to look around her to see the thing she had brought into the room. Her smile turned nervous, but no less excited as she finally turned back around.

“Is that-”

“-Maxine and Bobby-Lynn used one like it a few times,” Lorraine started to explain while she started pulling straps around your hips and thighs. “I asked ‘em to get me one not too long ago.”

“Jesus, Raine,” you said as she pulled the straps tighter.

“It works the same as-”

“-I can guess how it works,” you interrupted.

Her hands slowed to a stop as she finished securing the… phallic toy in place. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Lorraine,” you said as softly as you could, finally sitting up - as best you could without feeling too awkward - and placing your hand on the scarred side of her jaw. “I’m more than okay with it.” She leaned further into your hand. “If you asked me to wear only my boots and spurs, I would do it.”

“Oh yeah?” She asked, her teasing smile coming back in full force.

“Don’t push your luck, Day,” you said before leaning forward to kiss her again.

She moaned softly into the kiss. “If I did it right, you should feel it too,” she said as she lifted herself onto her knees, hovering over you. “So let me know.”

You nodded and pulled her into a kiss. As curious as you were to watch, you wanted to feel her lips against yours. You knew the moment she lowered herself onto the toy; her gasp was to die for. Shorty, breathy, almost inaudible if you hadn’t been kissing her already. The sound alone was enough to leave you soaking and needy.

But then you felt the toy press against you, and you knew you were a goner. Lorraine stayed still in your lap, catching her breath, and you would have been more than happy to keep her there. If she moved, you swore you would cum on the spot. It wasn’t a feeling that was so much better than everything else, but simply the knowledge that you were both feeling something together.

“I guess it works,” Lorraine teased even though she could barely keep herself in control.

“It does,” you said through clenched teeth as you tried to stay strong when she started moving again.

She didn’t have to move for long before you pulled her into a kiss, holding her tight against you. You did your best to move your hips with her. It was awkward and clumsy, and you both laughed a little when, more than once, you moved wrong and the toy slipped out. But you were okay with that, because it meant you got to hear her little gasp again.

As wrong as it felt, you had to picture Jackson to get a good rhythm going, or at least to get started. Specifically, you thought of the way his hips had moved with each thrust. You knew you got it right when Lorraine moaned, her head falling to your shoulder. If you hadn’t been so focused on not cumming or losing your rhythm, you would’ve moaned just the same.

“Baby,” she mumbled against your neck. Her nails dug into your shoulders; you would have to cover the marks up in the morning.

You knew what she wanted; she only ever truly called you “baby” when she was almost ready to cum. And you were more than happy to oblige. You kept one arm wrapped tight around her waist, holding her in place while your free hand slid down her stomach. Past the almost unnoticeable scatter of scars and through that small patch of hair.

Her hips jolted against your hand when you brushed against her clit. It was sloppy work; you would need to get used to the unusual angle later. But clearly it didn’t matter, because while her moans stayed quiet, they got higher in pitch until she bit down on your shoulder.

You used that as your sign to follow her, not even needing three more thrusts before you tipped over the edge along with her. You held her tight, hyper aware of every inch of her skin against yours. Of the slick sweat that coated both your bodies. Of the sting of her teeth and nails, but you would rather die than have her stop. Of your breaths intermingling between you until you were of one breath, one heartbeat, one soul.

Heaven existed, and it was right in that moment with Lorraine.

“You’re bleedin’,” she said softly. You didn’t have to look to know what she meant.

“It’s alright,” you said, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head. “You can nurse me back to health later.”

Lorraine giggled. A light sound that reminded you of when you were all kids and you would do anything to get that sound out of her. It was a reminder of simpler times, back when you were too young to understand that everyone believed what you felt for each other was wrong. A sin. Back when love was just that; love.

You let yourself fall back onto the bed, pulling Lorraine with you. She made a small noise when the toy moved inside her, but quickly settled back onto your chest. Her nails felt good scratching lightly against your skin, more comforting than ticklish. A nervous habit of hers.

“Did you learn all that from Jackson?” She asked.

“Don’t remind me,” you said; she chuckled. “I ain’t proud to say I had to picture him there for a minute.”

“Well, you gave him a run for his money,” she said.

“Think so?” You asked; you felt her nod against your chest. “Cause you still didn’t make the same noises.”

“Because these were real,” she said. Her voice grew quiet. “Everything with you is real.”

You wished she wouldn’t say things like that. That she could just let you both lie there, comfortable in the silence. Everyone was aware of the situation, but just once you wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening. That you actually did get to love her without feeling shame or guilt.

You just pulled her closer.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you,” she repeated.

It wasn’t enough, but for the moment, you were going to pretend it was. For the moment, you could pretend this was your daily life. Being in the same bed as Lorraine, showing her just how much you loved her, how much she truly meant to you. Holding her tight until you were of the same body and spirit, because no matter what the world thought, you were.

It wasn’t enough. But it would do.

“Are you really goin’ to film a scene tomorrow?” Lorraine asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said. “Bobby-Lynn and Maxine just wanted to getcha all riled up.”

Lorraine lifted her head from your chest and lowered her brows.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” you said with a smile.

“Sometimes I hate all of y’all,” she mumbled, quickly ducking her head back underneath your jaw. You still managed to catch the smile on her lips.

“I love you too, darlin’,” you said, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

Now this. This was enough.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader

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visionsofmagic · 6 months

Text

— favorite place to kiss on your body. ✷ mk1 edition.

KISS.

— a fluffy drabble. a bit spicy, use of y/n, no specification of the gender, kissing, teasing, all fluff! enjoy! [main mast.]

tomas, kuai liang, raiden, kung lao, syzoth, liu kang, bi han, kenshi, johnny cage

TOMAS. he can’t choose, he shouldn’t! he thinks every part of your body is a top tier, and deserves their own attention. he likes you from head to toe. but if he has to choose a specific one, he would choose your neck - because it always amuses him seeing you getting a bit shy at the proximity between you and him when he kneels lower, putting soft and wet kissing down on your neck, his scent leaves its marks on you as well as yours that appears on him - it feels so delicate when he grips you from the waist so that he can kiss your neck, and moving to your shoulders from there.

“oh baby, you’re making me weak by offering yourself to me like this. pretty. my pretty.”

KUAI LIANG. the man knows it will be disrespectful to choose a part of your body over others because he is down bad for you entirely. but when you insist, he will think about it for a while to decide even when you ask him it’s not that hard. he will say he can’t separate before finally telling it is inside your palm. it radiates a warmness into his core that he has never felt on his own or from anyone else. it is the warmness that makes him weak with the love he has for you, so he can never hold himself back from putting kisses onto your palms every moment he has the chance to. he will close his eyes while doing so, getting lost in the feeling.

“my love, you’re so beautiful that I want to be burn within it.”

RAIDEN. he’s not sure why you ask him the question because he is confused about whether he can’t show the love and affection you deserve by kissing every part of your body trying to use his gestures and words to make you understand how he has fallen for you. when you say you are just curious, he spends his days thinking about it. then, he decides that he loves kissing your fingers one by one, constantly, feeling so good while doing so because it feels like he can show the gentle love he has for you through the action.

“my beloved, I will never get tired of kissing your fingers, playing with them gently. I believe it’s your fingers where I am on my knees for whenever I kiss them.”

KUNG LAO. teases you about it, yet having a bit of redness on his face as he answers your question after a pause and scratching his neck; he chuckles and says how he finds your cheeks so cute. he says he likes to cup them, caresses them, play with them - everything. he is amazed how they curl up when you smile. he is happy when you’re happy, so, he chooses your cheeks as the most favorite one. he even kisses them while answering, palms on them, squeezing.

“you look so cute right now that I can die because of it! oh, baby, you’re so precious!”

SYZOTH. he spends his entire week thinking about it, kissing every part of your body while doing so because how he can decide which place is the most kissable one if he doesn’t experience it? he is gentle, so gentle that he thinks it will be unfair to choose a place over others, yet, there is one - the one which makes syzoth burry himself into your body and kiss there until his last breaths; your inner thighs. the man is on his knees whenever he has the chance to and since that’s the case, he never lets it go until he puts a few, sometimes more, kisses on your inner thighs. they’re so soft under his lips.

“my beloved, I can spend the rest of my life kneeling before you and kissing you from here to all of your body. I worship you, and the pretty body you have.”

LIU KANG. he lectures you about how the question is hard to answer, how he can’t understand the point of it because clearly, the god of fire loves every part of your delicate yet powerful body; definition of perfection to him. he doesn’t reply, not before he spends his alone time to think as he watches you from away, studying to choose - he finds himself looking too much and when he lets it go, he discovers a truth - truth about the fact that he always begins to kiss you by the lips - cold, warm, wounded, well, or bitter; it doesn’t matter, he can kiss your lips day and night, tasting the most pleasant sweetness out of it.

“oh, y/n, my y/n. you have the beauty that will make a god like me drop on his knees. but I will do it without a second thought if it’s meant for kissing your sweetness through these pretty lips.”

BI HAN. he literally scoffs, asking what a ridiculous question is that the moment he hears your words. arms folded, furrowing, he looks at you from above, lecturing you not to ask any further questions like this one, yet, he can’t hold himself back from answering it through his actions rather than simply saying it aloud because the man believes only showing it firsthand will make you realize how he likes kissing you on the forehead the most - it feels a kind of connection between you and him, a gentle gesture contrast to his manners. for you, only you, he’s soft, loving, and caring.

“don’t ask ridiculous questions anymore, y/n. focus on what I do, where I kiss the most if you wonder. huh, stupid pretty.”

KENSHI. he is the type of guy who carves for physical touch - especially after the incident with his eyes, he’s more open to touch or being touched by you. the man puts his hands on the places he will kiss afterward, then, closes the gap between your bodies and smelling your scent as he puts kisses on you. he smirks when he hears the question though, not quite sure where it will go but answers anyway. his fingers pat your neck as he hugs you from behind, hands finding your abdomen as he whispers into your ears before kissing the back of your neck.

“my love, I have no idea why you ask this but if you’re so curious, I would say here, the place I want to be buried into.”

JOHNNY CAGE. he will laugh until you get furious, slapping his arm, saying how you want him to answer the question no more. he teases you a bit more, then, he finds you so cute that he watches how you try to avoid him. when he is done with the way you act around so sweetly, he joins you on the bed, caging you within his body as he begins to kiss your exposed knees. he says how he likes you entirely, no separating, yet, he adds when he reaches your lips.

“cutie, don’t need to get all furious about it, I love every part of you! but if you insist, I will pick these pretty lips over others because I like the way they taste - delicious!”

💚

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spacecowboyhotch · 4 months

Text

Personal Issue

summary: santi invites you to his hotel room the day after your engagement to talk. he says the unexpected— that he’s in love with you.

prompt: "Why did you never tell me?" "It was a personal issue." "You being in love with me kind of also involves me." - @creativepromptsforwriting

pairing: santi garcia x f!reader

contents: get together fic, best friends to lovers, simp!santi (he’s lowkey a lil pathetic but i love him), angst, mental health issues/thoughts of dying, cheating, kissing

wc: 1,966

an: a teeny tiny something bc i miss santi. thanks to @ivystoryweaver for the beta <3

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"Why did you never tell me?" You demand, unable to keep the horror out of your voice.

Santi ignores the way your tone scrapes at the wound in his heart— the wound that’s always been open because of you. Always fresh, unable to heal because of you. You always seemed to be just out of reach, slipping through his fingers for one reason or another.

"It was a personal issue,” He reasons, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He can hardly look at you. It’s humbling. He’s never had an issue with charming a woman, but you aren’t just any woman. You’re his best friend. There are too many eggs in this basket.

You scoff, crossing your arms against your chest, "You being in love with me kind of also involves me."

“I didn’t— things were different before.”

“Different,” You test the word, not at all buying it. It feels like bullshit. Like a cop-out.

“Yes, different. We were kids, and then I was gone all the time.”

“No, Santi, you can’t do this to me.”

Santi smiles, though there is no humor in it. You’re right— he shouldn’t be doing this. Not today, not any day, but he’s finally reached his limit. It’s now or never.

“I don’t really have a choice, now did I, cariño?”

You glare at him, about ready to rip his head off because that‘s not true. You and Santiago have known each other for most of your lives— and you’ve loved him for at least half that. He could’ve told you days, weeks, months, years ago that he felt the same. But in true Santiago Garcia fashion, thinking only of himself and the consequences that sit right in front of him, he’d told you today.

Today wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t the day after you’d gotten engaged. No, Santi chose the day after you’d finally given yourself to someone else completely, the day after you promised yourself you’d settle and try to stop loving him. What you’ve wanted for years and years on end has finally come and now it feels like some sort of cruel joke.

“That’s one of the most heinous lies you’ve ever told.”

“The Colombian government would disagree.”

“You know what— get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you ever again. I can’t believe that you think you can just waltz right in here and—“

Santi takes two long strides towards you, closing the gap between you so that he can cup your face. “Tell me no. Say it. You have to say it to me.”

“Santiago, please,” You plead softly with him, your eyes round with fear. Your hands reach up to grasp his, making futile attempts to pull them away. “Don’t make me choose.”

Santi leans closer, the tip of his nose ghosting yours. His eyes are darker than usual, burning into you, a little angry— though he has no right to be— and a little desperate. “Why? Why not, hmm? He’s not that important, is he? Because you know you’ll choose me, don’t you?”

“Stop. Stop. Do you know how unfair this is? How fucked up it is for you to tell me this?”

Santi’s grip on your face tightens— it’s not painful but it’s frantic. You can feel the urgency in his fingertips. “Yes. Yes, I know. And I’ve always wanted to be better for you. I want to be a good man, I want to be worthy. Not some fucked up guy who’s better at killing than he is at telling the woman he loves how much she means to him. But, I’m not.”

“You could try.”

“I have. Don’t you get it, baby, I have. Yesterday when I saw those pictures. When I saw this—“ He tangles his fingers with your own, twisting your hand so you have to stare the ring sat on your finger in the face.

It glistens and gleams like it taunting you. It’s exactly what you wanted— the right cut, the right material—sparkling even in the dark. Your stomach churns at the sight of it. You shouldn’t have said yes, that much you know for sure. When you went back to your apartment last night you sat in the shower, your tears disguised under its spray. And when you had emerged, you’d made yourself a promise. To be a good and loyal spouse to the man that had actually chosen you.

“It drove me fucking insane. I lost it because I’m losing you. I had to try. If you say no, I’ll never come back. I’ll take assignment after assignment but if there’s even a small chance, baby, that you could still love me— because I know you did…I know you do.”

“I don’t want you gone forever, Santi. I said that because I’m angry.”

“You have every right to be.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Then what do you need, huh? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want.”

There’s more than one answer to that, but you have to give him the right answer. You’d just promised yourself last night that you would move on. Who knew that he would make it so difficult.

With a soft, shaky breath you say, “I…I need you to let me go.”

Santi goes dangerously still, his breath catching. “What?”

“I need you to let me go,” You repeat gently, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face him. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

The words sound syrupy in his ears, far away and unreal. He looks at you with confusion. “You want me to let you go?”

“Yes.”

The sharp anger and desperation in Santi’s eyes fade away, leaving his features soft and round and sad. So markedly sad. He lets his eyes trace your face for memorization; lips and eyes, the slope of your nose. He leans in to kiss your forehead, letting out a soft sigh.

Santi has done wrong by so many others and even done wrong by you. But this he’ll do right. If you want him to let you go then he will. He’ll let you walk out of here and never look back. Maybe he’ll get so involved in his work that he won’t think of you or this moment ever again. Maybe something will take him away completely. He flinches at his thought— it’s been a long time since something that has floated around in his mind like that. Taking a step away from you, he lets you go, fingers aching with the ghost of your skin against his.

You rest your face in your hands for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together. And when you straighten, you’re sure not to look Santi in his, just in his general direction. You’re broken enough and meeting his gaze would surely cause you to fall apart.

“Thank you, Santi,” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

He gives you a stiff nod, “Anything for you.”

Why do those words feel like you’re being stabbed in the heart? If he meant them, then why did he wait so long? Why did he do this to the both of you? Your vision blurs a bit with tears and you quickly grab your coat from where it’s laid on his bed, taking deliberate steps towards the door. Your hand lingers on the doorknob— are you sure that you want to do this? To walk away from the man you’ve always wanted?

“Wait,” He calls after you.

You freeze, but don’t turn towards him— that would be asking for trouble. Trouble you are trying so fucking hard to avoid. “What is it?”

“I just— I have to say it to you one more time because I don’t know if I’ll be able to again.”

“I told you I didn’t want you gone for good, Santi. We don’t have to do this, you can just let me walk away and we can act like it never happened,” You say, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself more.

“I don’t think I can promise to stick around. I can’t watch you marry someone else. I’m not gracious enough, querida.”

“Okay,” You whisper, the tears in your eyes starting to fall.

“I…I love you. I always will.”

Silence falls between you two, an empty cove. Santi hopes that it’ll be enough, that somehow, miraculously you’ll turn around and run into his arms, telling him that you love him too. Instead, he hears a soft sob and watches as your hand rises to wipe at your face before you straighten up and step out into the hall.

When the door shuts behind you he feels like he’s drowning. Like he can’t breathe. His heart is thrumming loudly in his ears, and he crumbles, letting out a groan as his knees hit the ground.

What the fuck has he done? Lost you forever, and told you that he can’t stick around. That was the last time he would ever see you. A world without you is one he’s sure he doesn’t want to be in.

He’s completely paralyzed with fear. He’s not sure how long he sits on the ground like this, shocked and still, but eventually his body starts to ache so badly he’s unable to ignore it. He crawls to the bed, reaching up to rest his weight on it and lift himself onto it. Here he can rot until he can no longer. Until Frankie or Will or Benny come to bang down the door and figure out what the hell is wrong with him.

It’s not long after that that someone does start knocking on his door. Has it been days? One of them was here already. Santi feels like it’s been minutes and weeks all at the same time, time stretching and squeezing in a way that feels unreal. It takes real effort to rise out of bed and make his way to the door. He doesn’t bother to check who it is, opening it with no reservations.

Maybe he died of starvation or dehydration. He must have been lying there much longer than he thought because it’s you. You’re standing at the door, tear-stained and so goddamn beautiful. This has to be heaven— except he’s undeserving.

“I love you too,” You blurt out.

“What?”

“I love you too,” You repeat. When Santi says nothing, staring at you in a daze you start to ramble. “I tried to go home and I couldn’t sleep. And then I drove around a bunch but I couldn’t stop crying because how am I supposed to live my life without you? Then all of a sudden I was here again. I love you, Santiago.”

“You love me.”

“Yes, I love you. Are you okay?”

Santi feels like his body has recalibrated. “Am I— get over here,” He murmurs, reaching to pull you into his room and crushing your mouth to his.

He presses you against the wall, covering your body with his own as he completely devours your mouth, forcing his way in and sucking at your tongue. All you can do is melt into him, hands scrambling to find purchase in the fabric of his shirt so that you can clutch him closer. His mouth is firm and so sweet. You want to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him for the rest of your life. Something in your brain reminds you that maybe, just maybe, if he loves you as much as he claims he does you will. It has you giggling into his mouth.

He grins into the kiss. “My kissing is funny, is it?”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use for it but just to be sure— kiss me again?”

“Anything for you,” He murmurs, his mouth capturing yours once more.

santi taglist: @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @missdictatorme, @whatthefishh

#santi garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader #santi garcia x fem!reader #santiago garcia x fem!reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #arson writes

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andvys · 7 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 12

Warnings: angst, underage drinking, weed, mentions of other drugs, mentions of depression, slut shaming, attempted sexual assault, (reader being kissed, groped and being held forcefully), (she leaves before more can happen) if that makes you feel uncomfortable, you can stop reading this chapter after the moment with Eddie at his trailer!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader (platonic)

Summary: You try to give dating a second chance and quickly come to regret it when you say yes to the wrong boy.

Word count: 9.5k

A/N: shoutout to my bestie @mysticmunson who always always helps me with the best ideas 🤍

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You feel like time is moving faster than usual. One moment it was the new year and now it’s already the end of march and every day pushes you closer and closer to the last day of high school. You can’t believe that it’s almost over.

You can’t believe how much has changed in the past six months.

Had someone told you that you would be graduating without him, a year back, you wouldn’t have believed them. It’s always been you and Steve. No matter how awful he was to you, how badly he treated you, it’s always been you two together.

You wanted to graduate with him, you wanted to go to college with him or even take a gap year and travel through the country with him – that was the plan.

But you will graduate without him and you will go to college without him and you will travel without him – he won’t be by your side, he won’t ever be by your side again and you have come to terms with it. You are okay with it, now.

“Hello?” Robin mumbles, waving her hand in front of your face.

Blinking, you quirk your brow and look at your friend.

“Huh?”

Robin chuckles at the confused look on your face, she sips on her coffee and scoots closer to you on the bench, reaching for a brownie in the brown paper bag between you two.

“What’s on your mind?”

You take a sip of your coffee and avoid looking into her eyes. You’re not about to tell her that you are thinking about your ex boyfriend.

She chews on her brownie and squints her eyes as she stares at you.

“Just that I’m going to graduate soon,” you chuckle and look at the lake in front of you. You and Robin decided to spend the afternoon by the lake after getting your favorite treats from the cafe downtown.

The sun is shining down on you, making your skin feel warm. The water is glistening and you cannot wait to jump into the lake when the weather gets even warmer.

“Yeah, it’s unfair how you and I just became friends and now you’re already leaving!”

You chuckle and nod at her words.

“You should have become friends with Eddie a long time ago!” She mumbles, rolling her eyes, playfully.

A smile tugs at your lips, “I agree.”

“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.”

“You think?” You ask.

She nods, her eyes widen, “yeah, I mean don’t get me wrong, you’re super nice and chill but cheerleaders make me nervous and there’s no way I would have ever approached you!”

And that is why she hasn't hung out with you and your friends yet. Despite you telling her how nice they are, she is still too nervous to get to know them properly.

You can’t help but smirk at her, “why exactly do they make you feel nervous, Robin?”

She narrows her eyes, glaring at you, which makes you laugh.

You know that she is into girls, it’s something she has been worried about telling you, too afraid of your reaction. It also didn’t help that you had only known each other for a little while, she didn’t trust you at first but the more she got to know you, the more she realized that you aren’t like the other popular kids at school. You aren’t judgmental or rude or a bully – far from it. When she saw you standing up for Eddie in front of the whole cheer squad and the basketball team, she knew that you are a real friend, you risked your ‘queen’ status and your place in the popular crowd but you didn’t care.

She didn’t plan on telling you, she blurted it out after having one too many drinks and when she was sober again, she was afraid of your reaction, all the what if’s ran through her mind – what if you will hate her? What if you will out her to the whole school? What if you will laugh and make her the laughing stock of the town? What if you will be disgusted by her?

She was overthinking. You didn’t give her much of a reaction, in fact, you were chill as always and treated the subject of her sexuality like it was the most normal thing in the world when it definitely isn’t the most normal thing for other people. You went out for breakfast that day and you had asked her who the ‘lucky girl’ is when you found out about her crush, that’s all.

And since then, you have only gotten closer and closer.

She blushes at your question, there are two reasons why cheerleaders make her nervous – 1. They are popular and a little mean and 2. They are hot.

“You know why,” she mumbles and takes a sip of coffee again.

You giggle, “yeah, yeah. I get it, cheerleaders are hot.”

“Eddie thinks so too,” she smirks.

Now it’s your turn to glare at her, “shut up.”

“Oh come on! You tease me, I tease you back! That’s how friendships work, right?”

“Yes,” you say, “but there’s nothing to tease me about.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes, crossing her leg over the other, she leans back and looks up at the blue sky.

“I saw you two together, lying beneath the starry sky and running around like two teenagers in love,” she says, dreamily.

You know that she is talking about the bonfire last weekend.

Shaking your head, you chuckle at her words and roll your eyes.

“We’re just friends.”

“Friends who slap each other’s butts?”

“Exactly.”

She looks down and faces you again, studying your face with a curious look in her eyes. She purses her lips and tilts her head.

“Okay, seriously though, are you just friends or is there more between you two?” She asks, genuinely. Robin watches the way your brows furrow and the way confusion flashes in your eyes. For a split second, you look lost.

You hesitate.

“Yeah, just friends.”

She waits for you to continue, she can tell that you want to say more.

“But, it’s like, he’s a special friend, you know?”

Her eyes widen when she sees the flustered look on your face, she slaps your shoulder, “friends with benefits?” She gasps, loudly.

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen as well, “no!” You almost scream, slapping her shoulder back, “you perv! Why is your mind going there?”

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Robin laughs, pushing your hand away. “You two are pretty touchy though so can you even blame me for asking that?”

No. No, you can’t blame her.

Robin has walked in on you cuddling with Eddie way too many times. He casually takes your hand and intertwines your fingers together. He kisses your forehead, your temple, your cheeks, your hands. He picks you up and drives you home. You sleep in each other’s beds and go on ‘friends’ dates. But, you are friends.

“I get what you mean,” you mumble. You know what your friendship with Eddie looks like to other people. Your mom thinks you’re dating and so does Steve’s mom and the rest of the town as it seems. “Eddie is very special to me and I love him but differently, not the way I loved him.” You shrug, looking down at your hands. You touch the rings that he gave you. “Things with Eddie just feel natural and good and I feel so safe with him, you know? I-I feel like he was a missing piece in my life because when he walked in, everything just felt better and it’s nice to know that he doesn’t expect anything from me, that what we have now, is enough.”

Robin’s eyes soften.

“We can just be together, you know?”

She smiles at your words.

“And us being so touchy is just,” you pause, looking for the right word. “Fun? I think we both craved the intimacy and the touch of another person. I never got it from Steve.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he always pushed me away. He hated cuddling, he never held me, he hated holding my hand. His kisses were rough and he always pushed me away after we had.. sex.”

She frowns. She isn’t surprised to hear about how awful he was to you but it upsets her, you deserve better.

“What a jerk.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I was pretty messed up when he dumped me, I felt miserable and I was so fucking depressed. I shouldn’t have been, he treated me like shit but I still loved him and I still wanted him and if he came back right away, I would’ve definitely taken him back,” you snort, feeling embarrassed to admit that. “But Eddie came into my life and he was just there, he showed me that I didn’t need him. He showed me that friendships and finding other things that make you happy can be enough.”

Robin can tell that there is more behind your words. Nothing will ever replace the hole that someone you loved so much had left in your heart.

“Eddie makes me happy and I just love what we have. He is not like my other friends but he is not like a boyfriend either. I-I can’t explain it.”

Robin sighs but she smiles at you, “maybe you’re soulmates – platonic soulmates!”

You raise your brows and laugh.

“I’m sorry if you don’t believe in that stuff but I’m a total believer when it comes to soulmates and twin flames and whatnot.”

“Me too, Robin.”

“Cool,” she grins.

“Yeah, cool.” You laugh, wiggling your brows, “now we gotta find your platonic soulmate.”

“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes, “they probably don’t exist.”

“Oh, I’m sure they exist,” you say, “I’m sure they’re around here. Maybe both of them are! Your platonic and romantic soulmate.” You smile.

“I don’t believe that,” she says, blushing.

“But I do. I got a sneaky feeling that you might find them both soon,” you say, not knowing that there is the actual truth behind your words.

You look at the lake in front of you, your mind tries to take you back to all your moments here with him but you force yourself to think of something else, someone else, anything that will stop you from thinking about him.

“Hey,” you nudge her shoulder, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

You hesitate again, not knowing whether it’s worth bringing it up or not.

“So uh, last weekend, at the bonfire, this guy asked me out on a date. He called me earlier today and asked if I wanna go out with him tomorrow night but I said that I’m not sure, he sounded disappointed and told me to think about it and that he will wait for my call and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “he used to go to our school, his name is Ray.”

“Okay,” she says, slowly, “why are you not sure?”

You shrug, “I don’t know if I wanna go out with him.”

She wants to ask who you really want to go out with but she doesn’t.

“You’re not into him?” Robin asks, her blue eyes are filled with curiosity.

“I mean, he’s hot but I don’t really wanna date anyone right now and I don’t want to have sex.”

Robin scrunches her face up, looking a little confused.

“You don’t have to have sex with him and you don’t have to date him.”

“Yeah but they always want sex,” you mumble.

Disgust flashes in her eyes and she shudders, “do they?”

“Yeah, same with Steve.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean we have known each other our whole lives so maybe it’s not that serious when it comes to him but we had sex on our first date,” you pause, rolling your eyes, “and every girl I talk to tells me that every guy expects to get laid on a first date so..”

“Gross,” she says, sipping on her coffee.

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. A date can be fun, you can just get to know each other and see if you hit it off, you can laugh together and flirt, do something fun that doesn’t involve kissing or fucking! And a person who is looking for a partner or even just for a companion, won’t want to fuck on a first date,” she says without thinking about her words.

You don’t know why her words hurt, you don’t hang onto him anymore but to think that he never wanted to date you, that he only wanted to fuck you cuts you deep. Was that all you were good for, sex? Is that why he kept you around, so he could fuck you and take his frustrations out on you? Is that why it was so easy for him to dump you? When he found out that he could have both love & sex, he realized that you were no longer useful to him?

And it’s not just Steve who made you feel that way, there’s plenty of guys who have tried to get in your pants, before, during and after your relationship with him. Billy Hargrove has to be the worst of them all.

Her words lingered for the rest of the day, you know that she didn’t mean any harm but it brought back questions that you have always avoided to think about when you were still with him.

She didn’t notice the sad look in your eyes, too busy trying to convince you to go on a date and have some ‘innocent fun’. You agreed with her, maybe it’s what you really need, some innocent fun.

You went home after dropping her off, you cleaned your room and you took a long shower, contemplating whether to call or not call him. You tried reading a book but you kept looking at the telephone.

A part of you wanted to go on that date, the other part was just curious to see how it would all play out.

In the end, you called him and said yes to the date, he seemed excited and that put a smile on your face but you couldn’t help but feel the hesitation of going out with a guy you are not even that interested in. You had a weird feeling in your chest and in your stomach.

Something felt off, something felt wrong, very wrong.

But you were never good at listening to your gut.

You were good at overthinking though and your mind kept taking you back to him and you couldn’t stand it, you needed a distraction. That’s how you ended up here, on Eddie’s bed with a joint between your lips and a lazy smile on your face.

The room smells like weed, the cinnamon candle that you have put on his desk and him. The faint sound of some rock song fills the silence, surprisingly he keeps his music on the low today. Eddie is sitting on his chair, writing something in his notebook, something he won’t let you see. His brows are furrowed, lips tucked beneath his teeth, he looks concentrated.

“What are you writing, Eddie?” You ask, pushing yourself up on your knees, offering him the joint. Instead of taking it from your fingers, he leans closer to you and parts his lips.

You chuckle and place it between his lips.

He looks into your eyes, amusement flashes in them when he notices you biting your lip. He takes a drag and closes his eyes for a moment as he inhales. You watch him and remove the joint. You lick your lips, pulling away from him to place the joint in the ashtray on his nightstand.

Your mind feels hazy, maybe a little too hazy but this is exactly what you wanted.

Eddie blows the smoke into the air and leans back again, he studies your face. Right now, you look calm and relaxed but you looked tense and worried when you got here, he wonders why.

“So?” You ask, still waiting for an answer.

He scratches the back of his neck, his eyes shift away from you, he glances down at his noteback before his eyes meet yours again, “it’s a secret, sweetheart,” he winks.

“Eddie,” you whine, rolling your eyes, “I thought we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

You know it’s nothing serious so you don’t get upset, you could never be upset with him.

“It’s not exactly a secret, just something I don’t want to show you yet,” he says, smiling.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well then, I can relax,” you giggle and lie back again.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. He looks back down at his notebook, holding his pen tighter. He looks at the words on the white paper, tilting his head. His eyes flicker back and forth, looking at you and at the unfinished text.

You hum along to the song playing in the background, tapping your fingers against the mattress. You look around his room, eyeing every item as though it’s your first time in here. Your eyes get stuck on the handcuffs adorning the wall. A curious look takes over your face. You have asked him about them before and you felt slightly disappointed when you found out that those aren’t from him being arrested and running away, these are just handcuffs he stole from the equipment at the theater room in school.

You reach for the joint and take a long drag, letting the smoke invade your lungs slowly. You sit up, still eying the handcuffs.

Eddie wonders what you are thinking about. He puts the notebook down, propping his elbow against the table as he watches you, curiously.

“You know what I always wondered?”

“What?” He asks.

“What it’s like to be a criminal,” you say, giggling.

He raises his brows in surprise, clearly not expecting this.

“I kinda wanna know what it’s like to get arrested forcefully, being thrown to the ground and getting handcuffed like in those action movies,” you say as you tilt your head, “I wouldn’t mind getting arrested by Jim Hopper, he’s so hot,” you giggle.

Eddie can’t help but laugh. You aren’t just joking about being cuffed, you are genuinely curious and he is amused by it. An idea crosses his mind and it doesn’t take him long to get into action, he gets up and walks over to the handcuffs, taking them off the wall, he looks at you with a smirk on his face.

“You wanna know what it’s like to be cuffed?” He asks as he holds them in front of your face.

You eye the mischievous look in his eyes, knowing that he has something on his mind, something that has got to do with him cuffing you and you can’t help but feel excitement rushing through you.

You nod eagerly and it only makes him chuckle even more.

“You wanna feel like a little criminal and have a cop running after you?” He asks as he bends down, leaning closer to you until his face is directly in front of yours.

You nod.

“Good cop or bad cop?”

“Bad cop,” you say, biting your lip.

He chuckles darkly, he eyes you up and down before he leans closer, he brushes your hair back, his breath hits the exposed skin on your shoulder, his fingertips linger on your skin, “well then, you better run, sweetheart,” he whispers.

He pulls back and your eyes lock with his again, he is serious about this, you can tell by the look on his face.

For a moment, you are both silent, both waiting for the other to move. The music is still playing but the room is more silent than ever. Suddenly, Eddie lunges at you and a squeal falls from your lips, you manage to dodge his hands and jump back before he gets ahold of you. You put distance between you and him, crawling back and getting up on the other side of the bed.

“Ma’am you are under arrest!” Eddie says with a deep voice and a mean look on his face.

You laugh, loudly but Eddie doesn’t look amused at all.

“Put your hands behind your back!”

“What am I under arrest for, officer?” You ask, blinking innocently.

Eddie frowns, he steps around the bed, trying to get closer to you.

“That’s chief Munson to you, little lady,” he glares at you, still talking in a deep voice, “and you’re under arrest for being a bad girl.”

You raise your hand towards your lips and laugh. He tries to look mean but his eyes are filled with amusement. He steps even closer but before he can get too close, you get back on the bed and crawl over to the other side. Eddie instantly follows you. Your heartbeat picks up and you slam open the door before you run out into the hallway.

“Hey!”

You squeal when you hear him running after you.

“Get back here, you little shit!” Eddie yells, snorting when he trips over Wayne’s slippers.

You run into the living room, stopping behind the table by the couch. You are a giggling mess and Eddie thinks it’s cute, he can’t help but smile as he tries to keep the frown on his face.

“Please chief, don’t arrest me!” You say with a fake whiney voice, “I’ll be a good girl.”

Eddie smirks, “that’s how you talk to the chief?”

“Yeah,” you say, wiggling your brows.

The handcuffs in his hands jingle as he flicks them back and forth, walking closer and closer to you which makes you step closer to the couch.

“You’re only making it worse for yourself, just stay where you are,” he orders, giving you a pointed look.

“Or what?”

He quirks a brow, grinning at you, “or I’ll have to punish you.”

“Aw, I’m so scared.”

Eddie runs forward and reaches his hand out to grab you but you are quicker than him, laughing loudly when you run away again, bolting back to his room but you don’t expect him to catch you so quickly. Suddenly, his arms are wrapped around your waist, he hooks his leg around yours, bringing you down but making sure that you hit the carpet softly, a surprised gasp escapes your lips, in just under ten seconds he has you pinned beneath his body, holding you against the ground.

You struggle against him but he is stronger than you, he presses your front against the floor and holds your hands behind your back, he straddles you from behind as he puts the cold metal around your wrists, cuffing you.

“Got ya,” he whispers in your ear, chuckling.

“Eddie!” You whine, still struggling against him as you try to fight him off.

You can’t see him but you know that he has a smug look on his face.

“Y/n!” He mocks you.

He keeps holding you down, laughing at the way you are struggling and wiggling around. He smirks in satisfaction, “I wish I could take a picture of this,” he jokes as he stares at you and at the way you look beneath him with the handcuffs around your wrists.

“You perv!” You laugh.

Your movements cause your skirt to ride up a little and you don’t notice that you accidentally put your panties on display.

Eddie smirks, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up and the way his stomach flutters.

“Cute polka dot undies, babe. I bet Harrington busted in his pants when he saw these,” he chuckles, staring at your ass.

You are too high out of your mind to be embarrassed about anything, right now. You finally stop wiggling around, you crane your neck to the side, trying to look at him, “I usually didn’t wear any when we were together.”

He laughs in surprise, “okay slut,” he jokes causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. He tugs at the hem of your skirt, putting it back into place, he then looks away, clearing his throat, he gets up and adjusts his pants before he leans down, uncomfortably. Grabbing your waist, he picks you up, laughing at the way you squeal before he puts you back on your feet. He grabs the cuffs, “let’s get back in the cell, little criminal,” he whispers, pushing you through the hallway and back into his room.

You are still a giggling mess when he takes the cuffs off of you and puts them back on the wall. You plop down on the bed and lie down.

“Tell me, are you gonna wear these cute panties for Parker?” He teases you, narrowing his eyes to watch your reaction. Your eyes widen, you sit back up and straighten your back, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“W-What? How do you know?” You ask in confusion.

He chuckles, turning back to face you, he walks towards you, crouching down in front of you.

“Robin told me that you might want to go on a date with him, I kinda figured you would,” he shrugs.

Eddie hates the idea of you going out with him. Ray is a jock and from his experience, 99% of the jocks are complete assholes, disrespectful to girls and generally, awful human beings. You dated one before, you don’t need another one to hurt you but he isn’t about to tell you what to do or not do – he should have.

You blink, looking nervous all of the sudden, you look hesitant and that puts a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, taking your hands in his, trying to comfort you.

“I think I made a mistake,” you admit as all the happiness and amusement on your face vanishes, “I-I shouldn’t have said yes to the date.”

You look anxious and that makes him anxious too.

“I don’t think that I’m ready.”

His brown eyes soften, he grips your hands tighter. Eddie thinks that you will never be ready to date anyone else – Steve Harrington is the one and only for you. You may think that you have moved on but he knows that you haven’t, he can still see the love in your eyes when you look at him. You aren’t aware of it and neither is he.

Eddie clears his throat, trying to say something but you interrupt him. Pinching your nose, you shake your head.

“I-I don’t even want a boyfriend, right now – let alone another jock! I don’t want to fuck him either, what was I thinking?”

A part of him wants to encourage you to cancel the date, a huge part of him wants to do that, the part that is very protective of you but he doesn’t do it.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs as he sits down beside you, still holding your hand, “you don’t have to date him or fuck him. And a part of you must’ve wanted to go on that date, otherwise you wouldn’t have said yes, right?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

The truth is, you want to know what it’s like to go out with someone who wants you.

“I’m sure Robin told you that already but you can just go out and have fun, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If the date goes well then great but if he turns out to be an asshole then you can just give him the mean right hook you gave Billy and then you’ll call me, I’ll pick you up and kick his ass and then we’re gonna go to family video, rent some movies and binge on our favorite snacks.”

And just like that, the smile on your face returns and Eddie’s eyes light up.

“The campaign is tomorrow,” you point out.

He shrugs, “for you, I’ll cancel any campaign,” he winks and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

You smile and snuggle closer to him, “you’re the best, Eddie.”

“No, you are.” He kisses the top of your head and runs his fingers through your hair, “you know what?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m gonna miss this if you get a boyfriend,” he admits when you both lie down and he pulls you on top of him, “shit, I got used to cuddling you, I need my little spoon.”

You giggle into his chest, “I need my big spoon too.” You place your palm on his chest, propping your chin on the top of your hand, you look into his eyes. “I’m not gonna have a boyfriend anytime soon but you might get a girlfriend,” you whisper, tapping his nose, making him smile.

“Nah,” he mumbles, scrunching his nose up, his eyes shift away for a second, “I don’t think so, I just wanna focus on my music and my friends,” he says, squeezing your waist.

You nod.

“I get that. I feel the same way, I just wanna focus on myself a-and be by myself.”

He smiles, he continues to play with your hair, watching you as you reach for his necklace, eyeing the guitar pick.

“We should just stay single together,” he jokes.

“I actually love the idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

“I’ll still kick Parker’s ass if you need me to,” Eddie says after a moment of silence, making you laugh again. “I hope that you will have a good time though, sweetheart.”

You hope so too.

You hoped so but at that time you did not know yet that the next night would end up a nightmare. That you would have tears streaming down your face, regretting that you had ever said yes to him.

It’s been a long time since you had been out on a date, you forgot what it’s like to feel the excitement but also the anxiety of going on a first date again. The not knowing of how the night will turn out made you a little nervous. You didn’t know what he had planned and where he would take you but you spent all day picking out an outfit, trying on all your dresses, all your skirts, combining your jeans with your favorite tops. You hated every option, every single outfit felt wrong, even your favorite clothes didn’t feel right on you – you should have taken that as a sign to cancel the date, you should have.

In the end, you settled for a blue sundress, pairing it with your favorite shoes and a denim jacket. You braided the front pieces of your hair and did your make up and finished it up with some pink gloss on your lips.

A part of you kept telling you to cancel the date, to call him and say that you had changed your mind but the other part kept telling you that the doubt and the awful feeling that had settled in the pit of your stomach was because you were overthinking things, because you weren’t ready to go out with someone else.

You sat on your bed and stared at the wall, bouncing your knee up and down as you fought a war in your mind, you had no time to change your mind though, the doorbell rang too soon for your liking.

You felt some of the tension leaving your body when he greeted you with his cute smile and your favorite flowers, you were surprised, you only briefly mentioned what flowers you love the most in your way too short conversation at the bonfire, last week.

He looked excited and that put your mind at ease, a little.

He was a gentleman, he opened the car door for you and asked you how your day had been, he easily made you laugh. There was no awkwardness in the air, none at all. For the first thirty minutes, you were still a little tense though, your heart was pounding, you were nervous but he was great.

The ice broke when The Cure started playing and you found something you have in common, you started talking about your favorite bands. You forgot how nervous you felt, you even forgot how wrong it had felt to go out with him, you forgot the weird feeling in your stomach, for a moment, you forgot everything. You shouldn’t have.

He was respectful and nice all night, he didn’t touch you the way you thought he would. The most he did was offer you his hand or put it on the small of your back. He didn’t put his hand on your thigh when you were at the movies, not the way Steve did on your first date. He didn’t try to kiss you during the movie, he didn’t try anything. He kept making you laugh and it was nice, he made you feel comfortable and that led to you letting your guard down.

For the first time, you had felt like a guy was genuinely interested in you.

After the movies, you went to get some drinks and things were going great, too great. The part that kept screaming at you all day was back and screaming even louder but you drowned that voice out and you focused on him and how interested he seemed in you.

Was luck on your side this time?

But every good moment has to end and now the moment has come and it brings you here.

You are walking down the sidewalk with your hand in his as you discuss the movie you saw earlier tonight.

“There is no way you still think that Halloween is better than Friday the 13th!”

“I do!” You shrug, giggling. “I think it’s the best movie.”

He shakes his head, chuckling, “I think you gotta see more movies.”

“Oh, I watch plenty of movies and I love horror but Halloween is still my favorite.”

“It’s hardly even a horror movie, honey.”

The pet name makes your smile falter a little.

“It’s good though.”

You stop in front of his car and you both turn to face each other, he places his hand on the roof of his car and you watch the way he eyes you up and down, the way his eyes linger on your chest, the way he licks his lips and smirks when his eyes meet yours again.

You have to crane your neck to look up at him, he is tall, even taller than Steve. His hair is dark blonde and his eyes are blue, he has a look in his eyes that Steve doesn’t have, you don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not. His hair falls in front of his eyes.

He is handsome but he isn’t him.

You feel shy beneath his gaze, something his demeanor has changed in the past few minutes.

“Tell me,” he says as he leans closer to you, “which girl are you in a horror movie, the one that gets killed having sex or the innocent little girl turning into a killer?”

Maybe that should have made you turn on your heel and run but instead, you giggle at his question with a confused look on your face.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Who are you? The jock that gets killed when the popular girl fucks him or the unassuming guy who turns out to be the slasher?”

He chuckles darkly, “why don’t you find out?” He jokes as he unlocks the car and opens the door for you.

You laugh, “sure, why not.”

The night is over and you can’t help but feel relieved, the date went great and you are happy about that, at least, you can go to bed knowing that there are guys who still just want to get to know you, without wanting something from you.

Eddie is one of those guys too, he just wants to be around you but he is just a friend, nothing more.

The small smile that lingered on your lips slowly disappears when he drives past the street that leads to your house. You glance at him, swallowing nervously.

“That’s not the way to my house.”

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at you with a smile, “oh I know, the night isn’t over yet,” he winks and looks back, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and letting his other hand linger close to you.

There is nothing bad about what he said but you feel your heart dropping and a shiver running down your spine, still, you try to stay calm. You take a deep breath and look out the window, watching the passing trees.

This can still have a good ending, right?

He drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Everything okay?”

You force a smile on your face and nod, “mhm.”

He is making sure that you are okay, that must be a good sign, right?

The wooded area he was driving through, already gave you all the signs where he is taking you, you are still surprised when he parks the car at Lovers Lake.

“You’re not actually the unassuming slasher are you?” You joke when you stare at the dark lake in front of you.

He chuckles at your question, he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt. You do the same, thinking that he wants to leave the car.

“Are we going skinny dipping?” You ask, laughing as you reach for the door handle but before you can open it, he reaches out, cupping your face with his large hands and pulling you into him, he smashes his lips against yours, catching you off guard a little.

Your heart beats faster and you gasp against him, you did not expect this. He pulls you even closer against him, kissing you desperately.

It feels wrong, so so wrong.

But you decide to try it out, to see what it’s like to kiss someone else. You place your hand on his cheek, you close your eyes and you kiss him back.

He hums in satisfaction, his thumb lingers on your cheekbone, his lips move softly against yours. It's nice, at first, but then it gets rougher and faster.

You can taste the coke and the rum on his lips, you can smell his expensive cologne on him, you can feel how rough he is and you can still feel how he’s pulling back, he wants more and it makes the pit in your stomach grow bigger.

Disappointment is all you feel now, of course it had to go this way.

His hands move down to your shoulders and he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, you can feel him smirking against you when you whimper – not from pleasure but from the discomfort of the forceful kiss, you don't know why you keep going, you don’t know why you keep kissing him when you can already tell where is he is trying to take this. He pushes your jacket down along with the straps of your dress and then he breaks the kiss, smirking at you when you gasp at the roughness of his hands as he pulls you closer against him, you can’t keep up with his quick movements. Before you can react, he pushes your hair back and buries his face in your neck, not wasting a second to start kissing and sucking on your neck, it hurts.

You scrunch your face up, hissing when you feel his teeth gracing your skin.

“Ray.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

You shudder in disgust and tilt your head, trying to move back, scooting away, only for him to pull you back. When you feel his hands gripping your sides tightly, you feel your stomach dropping, you freeze when you realize what this night is turning into.

“Stop it,” you warn him with a shaky voice, your heart is pounding in your chest and everything inside of you screams at you to get out of here.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks as he suddenly grabs your thigh, trying to push his hand under your dress, “come on, don’t be such a prude, y/n. We both know you want this. I saw the way you looked at me.”

His words make you feel sick, the nausea rises up quickly and you feel like throwing up.

“No! Stop it, Ray!” You say louder as a mix of anger and fear rushes through you, “I don’t want this!”

The fear inside of you doesn’t know how to handle the situation but the anger does. You grab his hair and pull him away from you, ripping his hand away with your other hand.

“I said no, asshole!” You spit and slap him harshly across the face with the back of your hand, knowing that the rings that Eddie gave you will leave marks on his skin.

His eyes darken at your action, he clenches his jaw and his cheeks grow red, you see the anger and rage behind his eyes and it scares you. With shaky hands, you rip the door open and get out of the car. You need to get out of here, you need to get away from him.

Luck is never on your side.

You feel like a fool for thinking that he was just interested in you. Of course, he wanted more, of course he wanted this from you. What else could he possibly want from you?

You feel your heart in your throat and the regret and fear in you is so strong, you don’t know whether to scream or cry when you hear him getting out of his car. Your first instinct is to run but he grabs your waist and drags you back. You can’t even fight him off, he is much bigger and stronger than you are. He slams you against the car and pins your wrists against it, holding them tightly, too tightly.

“Let me go!” You yell, struggling against the grip he has around your wrists.

He shakes his head, laughing.

“I told you, I don’t want this! I don’t want to have sex with you so let me go or–”

“Or what?” He chuckles, “you’re not gonna do shit. You can’t tell me you didn’t wear this for me,” he says, tugging at your dress before he lets go of your wrist and grabs your face instead, “and the way you looked at me at the bonfire? You gave me those eyes, babe. I knew you wanted to be fucked.”

You shake your head, you press yourself against the car, desperately needing some distance between you and him.

“I didn’t, I thought you were nice.”

“Aw,” he pouts but even in the darkness, you can see the amusement in his eyes, “you thought I was nice? You thought I wanted to take you out on a cute little date, kiss you on your porch and ask you to be my girlfriend?”

No but you certainly didn’t want this. The guy he was earlier, is gone, he dropped the act and is now showing you the side you are afraid of.

“If I wanted a girlfriend, I wouldn’t have asked you out,” he says, chuckling, “you think I was interested in you?”

You don’t answer him, you just continue to stare at him.

“Jesus,” he sighs, “you’re so fucking dumb.”

Your lips part and your brows furrow, you feel like punching him but you also feel like crying, this is a nightmare.

“What would I want with a stupid little bitch like you?” He laughs and he finally lets go of you, taking a step back.

You feel relieved to no longer feel his hands on you but your heart is still pounding and you feel cold.

“I took you out and listened to the shit you were telling me about, the least you could do was let me fuck you after teasing me all night.”

You blink, staring at him in disbelief.

“Let me tell you something, y/n,” he says, tilting his head.

You should have walked away, you shouldn’t have let him speak, you shouldn’t have listened to him, you should’ve left.

But you stand frozen in place, you are blinking, your eyes are wet with tears.

“You are so fucking boring. You’re just a dumb little cheerleader with no fucking personality. The only good thing you have is your pretty face and your body – you should be thankful for that, by the way,” he says, pointing at you, “you’re a good fuck and that’s all you’ll ever be, that’s why Harrington dumped you, you’re not fucking interesting enough to keep around.”

Somehow, he knew which words he had to use to hurt you.

You know that you were never good enough for him, you know that he didn’t love you, you know that he turned away from you because he found something better, something real.

You feel like a fool for thinking that someone could want you for more than this.

Ray had voiced everything that has been on your mind already.

“Oh and that Munson guy you hang out with? He’ll drop you too the moment you spread your legs for him — that’s probably why he’s still around, he’s just waiting for you to whore yourself out to him.”

You want to scream at him, you want to hurt him back but you don’t feel the power to actually fight back.

You stare at him through your blurry vision, breathing heavily as you clench your fists. You can feel yourself wanting to cry but you would never give him the satisfaction and show him how hurt you are. You turn on your heel and walk away, pulling the strap of your dress and your jacket back in place.

“Where are you going?” He asks, making you scoff in disbelief.

You flip him off without looking back, “fuck you!”

You don’t know where to go, you don’t know how to get home from here, it’s too dark to even see anything but you would rather get lost in the woods than get back in his car. You choose to walk down the dark path, refusing to get back on the road where he will drive by.

You refuse to let the tears fall, you blink rapidly, tugging your jacket tighter around you as you strut through the woods. You feel disgusted and angry, you regret this, you regret everything.

You hate yourself for going out with him, you hate yourself for kissing him back, you hate yourself for letting his words get to you. You wipe away the tear that threatened to roll down your cheek.

You were doing so good. You were happy. You were content with the way things were going. Why did you have to say yes to the date? Why did you have to ruin everything? His words have triggered something inside of you, something you had tried to leave in the past.

That’s why Harrington dumped you. That’s why Harrington dumped you. That’s why Harrington dumped you.

I’m not in love with you anymore.

Did you really think that I meant that?

I didn’t, I-I’m not even sure if I ever loved you, y/n. I wouldn’t have fallen for her if I did love you, right?

I mean, it wasn’t love.

Well, he wasn’t in love with her– I mean, he dated her because that was expected of him, right? She’s the popular cheerleader, the pretty rich girl, those have nothing in their brains and they’re pretty boring too so.. It was all just for show, I-I mean, do you really think he wanted her for her?

The voices in your head get louder and louder, overpowering the other. You can’t do this anymore, you can’t. You halt in your tracks, you put your hands over your ears, shaking your head.

A hand on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, startling you. A gasp falls from your lips and you jump back with wide eyes, only now realizing that you are not on the dark path any longer. The street lights illuminate the street ahead of you, you recognize the boat houses.

“Whoa, relax, girly. It’s just me.”

You press your palm against your chest and sigh, it takes you a moment to recognize the lanky guy in front of you.

Reefer Rick.

Eddie’s supplier.

“You scared me,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. You relax as you continue to take deep breaths.

The smell of weed invades your space and you glance back at him, noticing the joint between his lips.

“Sorry, kid. What’re you doing out here by yourself?” He asks, smoking his joint.

“Walking.”

“Walking in a dress?”

You look down at yourself with a frown, “what’s wrong with walking in a dress?”

“Nothin’,” he laughs, clearly stoned out of his mind, “I wouldn’t want to walk in a dress.”

“Okay..”

He points to his house, “I’m throwing a party, wanna come inside? I got some new stuff to try out.”

New stuff – new drugs. You don’t take drugs, except for the occasional joints you smoke with Eddie but that’s all.

You should go home right now but the thought of being alone with your thoughts seems too much after the night you had and you want to forget, forget everything that happened.

You hesitate though, you promised Eddie that you would never go to one of Rick’s parties by yourself, he made you promise, claiming that he doesn’t trust the people that Rick surrounds himself with.

Normally, you wouldn’t do this but tonight, you don’t care about the promises that you have made. You need a drink or maybe even something stronger.

“Okay.”

After a long and exhausting campaign, Eddie wanted nothing more than to go home, call you to ask how the date had gone and then go straight into bed but he had promised Rick to drop by and pick up the new supplies.

He parks the car on the side of the road, sighing when he sees all the cars in his driveway, the people on his porch.

Eddie hates parties, especially Rick’s parties, too many crazy people in one house. He walks into the boathouse, wincing at the music – not at the volume but at the awful song choice. He looks around, looking for his supplier.

“Aye Munson!”

He perks up when he hears Rick’s voice, he cranes his neck, looking over a group of girls. He waves his hand in front of his face when someone blows smoke directly into his face as he makes his way over to him.

He is too tired for this tonight and quite frankly, he isn’t in the mood to be here. He wants to check on you. A weird feeling in his stomach had kept him from enjoying the night with the boys from hellfire tonight, it triggered a headache too.

“There you are!” Rick grins and throws his arm around Eddie, “how’s it going?”

“Good,” Eddie mumbles.

Over the loud music, he hears a girl’s giggle and he could swear it sounded like you.

“Listen uh, you got the stuff?” Eddie asks.

“You don’t wanna stick around?” Rick asks, frowning.

“Nah man, I’m tired. Maybe next time.”

Rick sighs, he runs his hand through his messy hair, sticking his joint back between his lips.

“Alright, I’ll get your stuff, wait here.”

Eddie nods. He puts his hands into his pockets, he looks around. A cloud of smoke hangs over the living room, the smell of weed and alcohol is heavy in the air. Most people here are strangers to Eddie, he wonders where Rick finds these people.

He looks over at the people dancing, snorting at the couple making out in the middle of the dance floor, the group of girls that are laughing and singing along to the music don’t seem to bother them as they continue to bump into them. He looks away but then his eyes catch sight of something that makes him freeze in his spot. He has to take a double look to make sure that his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him.

Amongst the girls he had never seen, is you.

“What the hell,” Eddie mumbles, confused.

You have glitter on your face, your eyes are red, he can even tell from a distance. You are giggling loudly, letting one of the girls twirl you around as she holds your hand over your head.

You are either drunk or on drugs.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he mumbles through gritted teeth.

What are you doing here and where is your date?

He is not happy to see you here. This is not a good place.

Angrily, he stomps over to you, pushing past the people who are on the dancefloor next to you. He calls your name loudly and watches the way your bloodshot eyes widen when you see him. You pull away from the girls, stumbling on your feet, a little.

“Eddie!” You squeal and run towards him, throwing your arms around him. “What are you doing here!”

He smells the whiskey and the weed on you, right away and it pisses him off.

“What am I doing here?” He asks as he pushes you away from him, carefully. “What are you doing here?”

He watches the way your face drops, the way your lips set in a pout at the tone in his voice.

“I told you not to come here by yourself! Where is your date?” He asks, too angry to notice anything, too angry to notice the look in your eyes, too angry and worried to see the marks on the side of your neck or the red and purplish bruises around your wrists.

You fall into a ramble, giving him nothing but incoherent words. You blink rapidly, your voice is shaky, he doesn’t understand a single word and he can tell that you are starting to hyperventilate as the happiness and the bliss begins to fade away more and more.

He puts his arm around you and leads you out on the porch, where it’s more quiet, he sits you down on the steps and puts his hands on your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, you need to calm down,” he says when your rambling causes you to breathe faster.

“I-I, yeah.” Is all you say as you rub your eyes, not caring about your make up.

“What did you take?” He asks, thinking that it’s the drugs that are messing with you.

“Just weed and w-whiskey,” you slur.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you’re here alone?”

You nod.

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he murmurs, “I told you not to come here! Do you ever listen?”

He doesn’t notice the way you flinch at his words, the way you look at him with glossy eyes as you search for the usual warmth in his eyes.

“I’m gonna get you some water and then I’ll drive you home, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

He gets up, he looks down at you, your eyes lock and he notices the way you look at him, like a scolded child, big eyes that are filled with sadness and guilt, pouty, quivering lips. His eyes soften but he is still so angry, he sighs and turns away and walks back into the house.

He is angry that you didn’t listen, he is angry because he doesn’t know what would happen if he didn’t show up here tonight.

But he doesn’t know what had already happened.

When he walks back out with a water bottle in hand, he closes the door behind him and speaks up without looking at you.

“Alright let’s go – oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me!” He yells, startling some of the people who are still out on the porch. But you are gone.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Another sleepless night keeps Steve on his toes. He hates it. He finished his homework earlier tonight, he went out for a run, took a long shower, cleaned his room and reread Pride and Prejudices again.

He wanted to go to the movies with Nancy but she had already made plans with Barb tonight – a ‘girls sleepover’.

He envies her a little, he doesn’t have any friends anymore, no one to hang out with, no one to play basketball with, no one to go to the movies with. He misses it.

He lies in his bed, throwing a baseball into the air and listening to Tears For Fears. He lets his mind wander, he wonders what you are doing right now, he wonders if you are with Eddie tonight, he wonders if – no. Stop it, just stop it.

Sighing, he throws the ball across the room, letting it bounce of the wall and onto the floor, he turns on his side, facing his nightstand and the telephone he keeps staring at every night, hoping for a call from –

His heart leaps to his throat and he almost jumps up when it starts ringing. He stares at it for a moment, almost in disbelief.

The shrill ringing continues to sound through the room and he leans over, grabbing the receiver and sitting up as he holds it to his ear.

“Hello?”

Steve doesn’t know what or who he expected it to be – maybe Nancy or his mom or even Dustin or one of the other kids who sometimes prank call him but when he hears the quiet sniffle, he instantly knows who it is without having to hear the voice first.

His face falls and a frown takes over.

“Steve?”

next chapter

taglist: @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @wroteclassicaly @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729 @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @xxhellfiregirlxx @trashmouth-richie

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things angst

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livwritesstuff · 5 days

Text

Steve comes home from a few hours of running errands with his and Eddie’s one-year-old daughter Moe to find Eddie pitching an absolute fit to his beleaguered book agent Paul over the phone.

Given how Eddie’s third book is about three months away from its release date, Steve has a pretty decent idea what the fit might be over.

The dreaded book tour.

Look – Steve doesn’t like it either. He didn’t like it back in ‘95 when Eddie’s first book came out. He didn’t like it in ‘99 with the second one either. He definitely won’t like it this time around, especially now with Moe in the picture. He actually likes having his partner around, believe it or not (and, if he’s honest, there’s still some baggage surrounding work-related travel and his parents’ relationship that he’s still trying to shake).

Still, he knows it’s a necessary evil of Eddie’s success and they’ll all survive it.

That’s Steve’s perspective anyways, even if Eddie doesn’t share it with him.

Eddie looks over as Steve drops a few bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter.

“Hang on, Paul – Steve just got back from absconding with my daughter,” Eddie says, and then he pulls the phone away from his ear, “Don’t put her down for a nap yet.”

Steve only shakes his head.

“Sorry, Paul,” he says, not raising his voice quite enough for Paul to actually hear him (Eddie hears him though, and that’s what matters) as he continues on his way up the stairs to get Moe ready for her nap (he’ll drag out the process as long as he can for Eddie’s sake – he’s not a total monster).

In the end, Eddie’s phone call ends no more than five minutes later.

“So what’s the damage?” Steve asks when Eddie makes his way into Moe’s room.

“Five weeks,” Eddie grumbles as he pulls Moe out of Steve’s arms. He presses a kiss to her chubby cheek and then adds, “Stops goddamn nation-wide.”

“Maybe stop writing so good and you wouldn’t have this issue,” Steve points out.

“Shut up – I’m not gonna do it. Paul can drop me, see if I care.”

“You’d care.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump.

“Yeah, I’d care,” he mutters, and then he shakes his head, “It’s entirely unfair that he’d expect me to leave home for over a month when he knows I have a little baby at home. I’m not doing it. She’ll be a whole teenager when I come back, Stevie.”

Steve looks at him, “It’s five weeks, love. She’ll probably still be the same shoe size.”

“I’ll miss our anniversary.”

“No, you won’t. It’s not ‘til the month after.”

“Okay, who’s side are you on here?”

“Paul’s, obviously.”

Eddie’s jaw drops as he feigns an affronted expression.

“I cannot believe that my beloved, my betrothed–”

“Betrothed?”

“–would side with my traitorous agent over–”

“Ed, Paul was pretty forgiving when you slowed down writing for six months for the foster training stuff,” Steve points out (and it’s a point that actually manages to stop Eddie’s tirade – an impressive feat, he’s well aware), “And then he was really forgiving when you stopped completely for almost a year when Moe was born. Wasn’t this book supposed to come out, like, over a year ago? I feel like the least you can do is put up with a book tour given everything you’ve put him through.”

Eddie only blinks at him a moment – clearly trying to fathom any kind of counter-argument and coming up empty.

“Damn you,” he mutters.

“Can’t believe you used to be the guy who wanted to be a rockstar and go on year-long world tours,” Steve laughs, “Now you can’t even handle a month of the continental United States.”

“Watch your mouth, Harrington. Hey – maybe you and Moe can come and be the world’s cutest groupies.”

“We’ll see.”

#little do they know robbie’s gonna show up 10 months later and delay the next book by another four years lol #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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neet-elite · 3 months

Text

Without Shame — (SDV) Sebastian

Pairing: Stepbro!Sebastian / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 7,617 Warnings: Stepbro!Sebastian, pseudoincest, stepcest, cheating, dubcon, magic pocket pussy, mean Sebastian, name calling (dummy, little sister, baby sister), cunnilingus, accidental creampie, objectification, ruined orgasm, fingering Synopsis: More than anything he refers to you only as brat, because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little brat who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.

No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.

A/N: Should I make this a series? I have several more thoughts that didn't make it into this fic... Let me know if you wanna read more! Anyway I had fun with this! I've wanted to do something like this piece for a while but was convinced everyone would hate it LOL... But my friends reassured me so thank you guys <3

Ever since he can recall, you’ve been a fucking brat. There’s no other way to put it quite so eloquently, he thinks. At least when it comes to interacting with him, which makes it all the more frustrating when you play innocent with others. Has him feeling insane when no one believes his claims that you’re evil, that he’d really rather be alone than stuck with you as a sibling, that everyone else is wrong when they call him the mean one. You play the role of innocent little sister well in public, and though part of him is genuinely impressed at your acting skills, he unfortunately knows the real you; and you’re so fucking annoying. Especially the way that you know exactly how to get away with your mistreatment of him, remaining undetected the moment a third party shows up so that he has to take the blame. Every. Single. Time.

Which is unfair, right? Unlike his usual sedentary lifestyle, the one constant that he can always count on in life is that you’ll surely be there to cause chaos for him. Whether that be from your ‘playful’ comments about his appearance, making fun of his lifestyle choices and hobbies, or the fact that you’re quite literally dating his best friend; it’s fair to say that you’ve always annoyed him. Siblings fight, sure, but he’s never called you anything close to sister in his life, and he doesn’t plan on it. He didn’t grow up with you so much as you just showed up one day to ruin his life, strutting around like you already owned the place with that dumb smirk he so often sees you wear, in spite of the fact that you moved into his home. More than anything he refers to you only as brat, because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little brat who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.

No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.

What’s worse is that he can’t even hide how much you get to him, retaliating to your attacks with barks of his own every time, too afraid that if he doesn’t keep if with you that you’ll only bully him more. And it’s exhausting watching you prance around the house, usually in next to no clothing, teasing him at the dinner table with your nipples poking through your shirt—no bra again, despite his begs for you to wear one—until he eventually snaps at you to shut up; and then it’s him that gets punished for it!

Unfair is to word that suits you best. How you treat him, and how he feels about you. Because at the end of the day, he’s just a man. A man with a stupidly annoying hot step sister who provokes him day in and day out, teasing his perverted mind with just barely not enough; because you’re mean and you fucking know it.

Tonight, he decides to change that.

For all the pranks you’ve had him endure, he’s got his own devious plan up his sleeve. Been sitting on it for a few nights, a pure fantasy that even now he barely thinks is even possible, prepared for it to all be a scam, but fuck it. He has to try. Anything to wipe that stupid smile off your cute face, regardless of morals. And you only have yourself to blame, your dumb… Hot self. Fuck he hates you. Hates the way his cock twitches every time you enter his room, even if he knows you’re only there to upset him. Hates the way his heart hurts when you show him your recent selfies with Sam, how his tummy turns when you only give up on teasing him because Sam is calling you, a thick layer of bile always on the tip of his tongue waiting to put you down. It’s disgusting, the way he actually loves it.

He especially hates the cute little pout you wear when he does bites back, mimicking your words in a high pitched mocking tone just to hear you whine some more, standing tall above you only to talk down at you. God, it makes him so hard just thinking about your teary eyes when he takes it a step too far, commenting on that one thing he knows you’re actually insecure about and big fat tears travel down your chubby cheeks. So fucking hot making you sob for him, turning your otherwise pretty smile into an earnest scowl, like you hate him. It’s what you deserve for being such an annoying fucking brat. If he can’t have you be nice for him, he’ll take punishing you into tears happily. He doesn’t care too much either way, because you’re pretty when you cry too.

And it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilt for looking at you with a lecherous gaze, but rather that he simply doesn’t care. Knowing that it’s wrong and yet still he gives in to his perverted nature by stroking his cock to thoughts of you, of shutting you up by filling your throat, driven by the seed of shame taking root in his tummy to pet his erection under his desk every time you moan for him to stop teasing. It’s the only thing that helps, to balm the pangs of remorse when a smirk tugs at his lips every time you cry wolf.

Which brings him to the item in his hands, spurred on to get back at you after you recently attempted to go into deep detail about your oh so fun little date with Sam the other day. It’s bad enough that you went against his wishes and started dating Sam in the first place—he has some choice words for his best friend too—but you make things worse by indulging. Elaborating on what you love most about Sam, teasing intimate details that he’d rather not hear about; and acting oblivious to his glares. You know damn well how to rile him up just right, to get him on the edge of fighting back before retreating to the safety of your room, or worse, your father. No, he doesn't want to hear about how Sam took you home after your date last night, or about how rough his hands are on your plush thighs. It’s gross, because deep down he wishes it was him.

You should be thankful, really, that he’s going to such lengths to prank you. Only you would have him acting this desperate, squeezing the soft silicone toy in his shaking fists like a stress toy, his ass perched right on the edge of his computer chair as if it were the only barrier left before the point of no return. It was through the old man camping near his house that clued him in to the supposed wizard occupying the tower in Cindersap Forest, a claim that he initially passed off as a farce, but after your latest stunt of divulging disgusting details he decided it couldn’t hurt to ask for more information, just to amuse himself. A little fantasy of getting back at you, nothing more. Though, now that he’s got the supposed magical object in hand, he can’t help but bounce his leg off his old squeaky floor, giddy excitement resting heavy in his chest as he gives the rubber toy another squeeze, already panting at the thought of executing his plan. Fuckin’ brat, he smiles to himself. Only gettin’ what’s comin’ t’ya.

It’s the first time he’s getting a proper look at the toy too, unable to give it a second thought until right now thanks to you. Your petulant attitude when he arrived home only irked him, solidified his decision to defile you tonight even more so when you taunted him about leaving the house and how he never usually does and was he seeing a girl? A friend? Must have been really important if he left his room, right? God, even just thinking about your teasing voice causes his brows to furrow in frustration, tongue clicking at the mere memory of your pestering, gripping the girth of the toy in his hands as if it were your throat.

Selfish desire gets the better of him though, and for as much fun as it is pretending to choke you out, it’s getting late and his mom will be back with your dad soon. Which means he hasn’t got much time left to ruin you, so, he carefully holds the toy up to his face for inspection. What greets him is all pink and pretty, his throat immediately drying when he realises just how attractive it is. Then, quickly, upset crawls up to his tongue and hides behind his teeth when recalling how the wizard called it a replica, and knowing that your cunt is apparently this pretty for real angers him. Like, how dare you be withholding such a pretty pussy from your big brother, right? Shouldn’t he get first dibs on it, and not Sam. Suddenly, calling you sister sounds appealing to him, and he’s almost tempted to pull his pants down and shove his already throbbing erection into your little unprepared pretty pussy just to punish you for keeping this cunt out his reach. But he’s too busy instinctively pressing the pocket pussy against his face as close as he can get without actually touching it and huffing. Sniffing along your faux slit and immediately leaning back into his chair as your scent washes over him, overwhelming and clouding his judgement. Fuck, okay, maybe it really is linked to your cunt. And because he's not as mean as you like to portray him, he decides to indulge himself a little. Or, he's simply too selfish not to eat you out, eager to get a first taste of his little sister, to see if she's really worth all the hassle.

And he’s so close too, God; about as close to actually fucking you as he can get right now that he’s honestly a bit dizzy, jutting his hips forward so his bulge can roll against the air in a mimicked action of sex. It’s instinctual, convincing his quickly emptying mind that this must mean that it’s right, that your cunt belongs to your mean big brother, his breath fanning across the faux lips in rushed bursts of barely there restraint. He wonders if you can feel him already, wearing a cute confused pout at the cooling feeling between your legs; fuck, he can unfortunately imagine it perfectly, his free hand coming down to pet at his pulsing cock with light touch, just barely there to tease him like he’s teasing you. Because this is better than he ever thought it’d be, having all the benefit of your hole right in front of him without needing to put up with... Well, you, and he’s afraid that if he gives in to his more baser instincts too soon; he’ll cum before he gets to have his fun.

Inhaling your scent some more causes his eyes to roll to the back of his skull, imagining how quiet you must be in your room all alone; even there you usually talk too much, way too fucking loud and annoying. Is his sniffing shutting you up? Cock dripping precum already at the image of you shooting upright in bed, forgetting all about what you were previously doing because something is happening to your body, left completely unaware that your mean older brother has his face practically buried between your legs right now. That’d for sure leave you gasping, right? Make you all squirmy and cute, soft and pliable for once in your fucking life.

And thanks to his depraved mind, his tongue automatically pokes out at the thought of you listening to him for once, kitten licking at the fake slit while he holds his breath. A natural action, one that he isn’t immediately aware he’s doing before he can feel soft skin against his teeth. His mind is slow to catch up to whats happening, too distracted by the palm circling his perverted bulge into submission, but when he realises that his lips are in contact with the pocket pussy, he rolls his tongue up to the swell of it, sighing against the slit in satisfaction over how you taste so perfect. The more he teases his tongue between your folds the wetter he finds the fake cunt getting, and noticing that the magic imbued in the object is real causes his hips to jerk up into his open palm, rolling together in tandem with how he licks your cunt.

A soft curse escapes him when a gush of slick reaches his taste buds, immediately swallowing your liquid down like a dog. One hand holding the pocket pussy to his lips, the other tugging at his leaking cock. “Big brother making you feel good?” He whispers against it, only proving to rile himself up further at the verbal admission of touching his little sister so inappropriately. And he's so soft and tender with his tongue too, a momentary lapse in judgement, forgetting all about your brattiness the moment his lips grazed your puffy cunt, hypnotised by the taste and smell of your tiny hole into providing kindness to you. Pussydrunk. It causes his cock to flex under his touch, dribbling saliva onto the toy to make his tongue glide easier between your lips. “Dummy…” He sighs into you, giving your cunt a trail of kisses from top to bottom, and then back up again, letting his tongue poke out between kisses as if he were making out with your cunt more than anything. Really making out with it, sloppy sounds included with how eagerly he smacks his lips against you, the accumulation of saliva sticking to his chin as he presses kiss after lick at your hole. He shifts around on his chair, sliding down it just a little more to get comfortable and pushing it out away from his desk, his legs automatically opening while he slobbers all over the faux cunt, pretending that you’re riding his face right now because fuck that’s so fucking hot, yeah? Need big brother to eat you out and make your cunt feel all better? “Gettin’ all wet an’ slick for big brother? Preparin’ for his cock?” he continues talking to himself, voice hushed and mocking before diving back in to kiss the toy, easily believing that you’re in the room with him from the way your slick dribbles down his throat. Linked to you in your room, fuuuck he wants to see your face so bad. Wants to hear your little hushed gasps and moans, clinging on to him for assistance without realising that it’s him that’s making you feel all funny. You just need big bro to take care of you, right? Need big bro to help make you feel all better, to work out why you feel all funny down there, yeah? There’s no need to be with Sam baby, big brother is just downstairs and more than willing to help your wet little cunt out.

A rough cough crawls up his throat as he pulls away for some air, a string of saliva keeping his tongue connected to your hole. It doesn’t last very long though because he’s diving right back in before he even fills his lungs, gripping at his cock and shaking it a few times before attempting to jerk himself off, but his jeans are too tight and he’s too drunk on your cunt to pull his pants down. Too busy with flattening his tongue against your wet little slit, slurping and groaning against your cunt while he gets off to just your taste, fuck, can practically smell how much you need him by now, pressing sloppy kisses against your puffy little clit and tonguing at it desperately, humming with his kisses so that you can feel how much he appreciates your compliance: even if it’s robbed. “Pretty princess cunt,” He rasps to himself, dipping his tongue all the way down to your hole so that he can absentmindedly mouth at it, slipping inside with such ease as more slick gushes on his lips, making his fist tighten unfairly on his erection. He’s downright desperate. “Baby sister cunt—” He huffs roughly, tugging his cock only twice more before frustration overwhelms him and he’s reminded of your bratty attitude, placing the pocket pussy on the edge of his desk for you to drip slick onto his floor while his hands busy themselves with removing his pants and underwear as quickly as possible, only managing to get them over his knees before he settles back into his chair again, pocket pussy carelessly gripped and hovering dangerously close over his now exposed pulsing cock. He’s absolutely trembling, shaking with excitement while the faux cunt dribbles slick onto his already wet with precum cock, coating it in all your baby sister cream like a good girl for once. While he could eat you out literally all day if he wanted to, face stuffed between your thighs for him to huff and kiss at mindlessly, insisting on continuing when you inevitably dig your nails into his hair and try to yank him off; his cock cries for attention. Twitches as fat globs of precum roll down to his balls, veins popping with impulsive need. He briefly wonders if Sam has ever gotten you this wet before, to the point of gushing over his cock before even entering. Does big brothers tongue feel that good, baby?

Small haah’s are all he can let out as he squeezes the rubber toy in his fist, his other hand clenching tightly around the base of his perverted cock to angle it towards your sopping hole, staring at how your slick that leaks down to his tip shimmers in the seedy lighting of his room, where it connects to his own fat beads of precum that spill for you. So close, he pants to himself. Wanna fuck you so bad, he almost whines, for so long. Stuck between ramming big brothers cock into your tiny little hole already, or to savour the moment for how monumental it feels. Sure, it’s not the real deal, but it’s close enough; even more depraved if he really thinks about it. Fucking you in secret, leaving you a mess all alone in your room; able to feel his girth but left unknowing as to why: he can’t fucking wait to bully you back some, make you feel how fat his cock is as punishment for tormenting him all this time.

And that’s all it takes, the promise of revenge. The torturous drip of your cunt onto his cock convincing him to enter, inviting him, even, his fist lifting only to smear the combination of his pre and your slick over his hot and heavy length (as if it needed extra coating). He wets his lips in focus, lowering the pocket pussy closer to his red hot tip before some more pre spills for you, and as if that wasn't enough, he leans over himself to spit on his cock for extra lubrication. Don’t say he’s never kind to you, all right? “S’all your fault.” He chokes out, lowering the toy until the faux lips come into contact with his tip, automatically causing his hips to buck up into the soft feeling in search of more; but he forces himself to resist. Wait, he tells himself, nonchalantly stroking the pocket pussy lips up and down his cock instead of entering, staining himself completely with your slick. Feels so good, fuck, even just rubbing one out on you like this, pushing the fat of his cock between the fake lips to really hump at, y’know? Even lets his hip thrust upwards, causing him to fuck himself off his chair a little with how eager he’s pretending to hump his little sister, to properly punish you—or so he tells himself, but deep down he understands it’s more like he just wants to wet his cock, remind you of who you really belong to—because it’s what you fucking deserve.

You deserve to feel the entirety of his greedy cock slipping and sliding between your folds, you deserve to feel the guilt and shame he’s desperately humping upon you for getting so wet due to big brothers cock. He’s entitled to this, he thinks. Putting up with you all these years, he takes his frustrations out by repeatedly knocking the tip of his cock against the faux clit of the pocket pussy to hopefully have you sobbing in your sheets, squirming under the phantom feeling of his cock bullying your upsettingly perfect little cunt. By the thick squelch that soon fills his room with every pass of his girth up and down the toy, he knows you must be enjoying his disgusting treatment. Gross, he smiles to himself.

Busy humping himself silly against your fake cunt, he doesn’t fully register how close he is to slipping inside until it eventually happens. One minute he’s blissfully content rubbing one out against your slit, and the next he’s folding in on himself in a full body silent gasp, cock head fully engulfed in your tight little hole and knocking the wind out of him. Karma, he supposes, and then immediately forgets about as he feels your cunt squeeze around his intrusion for the first time ever; and you manage to effectively shut him up, no talking back or standing up to your teasing for once. Until you do it again, even if involuntary. “Shit— fuck.” He groans, a rough sound crawled up from the pit of his tummy, drawn out from how nice and wet the toy in his hands is, thanks to you. His weight shifts in his old computer chair, squeaking like it always does when he jerks off to the screen, only now it’s due to the immense strain he has to endure not to immediately bury himself balls deep in your cunt. You squeeze around him again as if asking for it and it hits him all at once, forced to realise with such sudden and alarming clarity that he was very much fucked. Ruined, truthfully. The sinful suck of your linked cunt promising to spoil every other hole he potentially fucks in future, leaking little sister cream all over his twitching cock to entice him deeper, to fall further into your messy cunt depravity.

And really, it’s not bullying if you like it. He’s not being mean by rolling his hips into you slowly, forcing you to savour every thick inch he’s got to offer as he enters you, tiny little humps upwards rather than forcing the toy down his cock to simulate sex better. You like it, don’t you? Dribbling all over his cock, bet you’re writhing in your sheets right now for him; because you must be just as slutty as him to be enjoying this. And it’s embarrassing just how much he likes it, how he already knows he’ll never be able to leave the pocket pussy alone, biting his lip raw to try and stifle his moans, squeezing one eye shut as if he was pained to be feeling so good, and he feels forced to swallow a bark creeping to his tongue at how annoyed he is. It’s unfair that you feel so good wrapped around him like this, half his cock buried in the toy, coating his length in even more slick to make the glide inside easier. And he thinks to himself that if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be this fucking slippery, his head thrown back at the soft squelch his cock fucks out of you. “That’s it, fuck— what a good sister…” He ends up praising you despite his frustrations, unable to hide his genuine feelings for you in the secrecy of his own room, squeezing the pocket pussy even tighter around his greedy cock as he pushes up, up, and up until finally the faux lips rest against his pelvis and he can finally breathe again.

More than anything he wants to fist your hair and mess up your pretty styling, force his lips onto your own so that you can taste just how much he wants you; how downright desperate he is to claim you as his own. You’re his little sister, so you belong to him, right? Should be creaming on his cock and not anyone elses, cunt twitching around his fat girth as he grinds his hips into the toy, little circles to tease and taunt, bully you back into place for your petulant attitude he’s had to deal with his whole life. Payback, he muses, panting at the way your fake cunt accepts him so easily, willingly wrapping around him so snugly; like you were made to take his cock. Just barely inside and you’ve already got him pulsing, balls taut at the way he so easily falls into you, how he’s sure he could cum right now just by circling his cock inside of you, stirring your insides up to prepare you for what inevitably comes next. Annoying, because he went into this perverted prank hoping to just upset you, to make you sob and whine on his cock like a good girl for once, and yet here he is struggling to regulate his breathing, fighting with himself to keep his hips from humping.

But fuuuuck you feel so good, nice and tight and eager, constantly twitching and squirming on his cock to coax more precum out to stain your insides with, sucking his tip in so well as if asking for more, begging big brother to fuck you. And he’s watched enough hentai to know that he’s not immune to the little sister allure, despite his intentions to simply fuck with you; he has to show you that he’s the one in charge here, right? Regardless of his flimsy excuse, he does so instinctively, a flash of regret buried deep in his mind that’s easily clouded over by the sudden swallow of your cunt as he withdraw his hips, leaving only his tip inside to tease you with. More slick gushes out of the toy, trickling down to his balls and onto his chair, a tut escaping him despite being alone. “You’re such a fucking tease, y’know that?” He slurs, words caught in his throat and forced out of him as he drops the toy on his cock, shivering into the dirty action before repeating it again. And again. And again, until his fist wraps neatly around the toy enough to control the speed and he starts jerking off with your cunt.

Greedy gulps of air is all that’s heard in his room, besides the odd squeak and dribble of saliva, a few drops pooling on his tummy as he revels in the act of taking his perfect princess little sister in private. At least he tries to keep quiet, but it’s hard to keep his voice down when your walls squeeze him tighter, prompting him to suckle on his hoodie sleeve and pretend it was your nipple instead, lacing his tongue over the rough fabric as a means to distract himself from falling in love with your cunt. Is this how Sam feels when inside of you? Do you get this slippery for your boyfriend too, or is it because deep down you know big brother is fucking you properly.

God he feels dizzy, so turned on at the thought of not only defiling you, but of doing it in a way where you’re left uninformed. He wishes he could see your confused tear stained face, wants to watch you shake and cry for help while he bullies his cock into you, leaking all over the toy with every fuck of his hips upwards, matching the downward tug of his hands. And it’s even more fucked up that he’s treating you like the toy you are right now, literally jerking himself off as his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows to gain greater focus, leaning back against his chair so that he can hump into the faux hole at abetter angle. “So good—” He babbles to himself, fluttering his lashes at the way the toy slams back down on his balls, the corners of his mouth wet with drool from the sound of your cunt making room for his corrupt cock. “Knew you’d feel s—so good—” The immorality of his actions only turns him on more, his legs coming out to straighten while his back arches against his chair, fucking into the toy with needy desperation, a tut on his tongue at how perfect you are for him. He hates how good it feels, wants to fuck his frustrations out on you, slamming the toy down as much as he fucks into it so you can really feel just how much you truly upset him. If it feels this good with a toy, he can’t imagine how ruined he’s gonna be when it comes to the real thing—because of course he’s gonna fuck you for real, are you kidding? God, you feel too fucking good it’s unfair, should be illegal—letting him masturbate inside of you like this; his infatuation for you deepens, and the closer he gets the less liable he is to hold on to his grievances.

“Stupid girl—” He mumbles, a line of drool spilling from his lips too. In the privacy of his basement room, he allows himself a moment to indulge. “If— fuck, oh my God— if only you— If—” He tries. God, he tries to get his words out, clamping both hands around the slippery wet toy and leaning forward to rest his head on his desk, standing up off his chair—too hopeless to remain seated—so that he can drag the toy on and off his cock with more ease. Faster, too, his hips try to keep up with his quick fists but they’re no match, he’s spent way too many lonely night pumping his cock raw to give his hips a chance. Slick drips from the pocket pussy, his feet planted firmly on the ground to give him better grip to fuck you with, and the floorboards squeak with the weight of his thrusts. But he doesn’t slow down, can’t, really. Unable to give even himself a breather from the disgusting situation, frantically fucking the toy in his fists like his life depended on it, his previous plans of getting back at you forgotten about in favour of simply getting off, uncaring for how you must be so scared right now because you’re making him feel so good: and that’s all that matters. He's so selfish, focusing only on his own pleasure as he splits you in two in the palm of his hands, baby must be stretching so well to fit him all in.

“If only you were— were this good all the time.” He finishes his thought and half laughs, but it soon turns into a low moan when the toy clenches around him, shaking and shivering down his mean big brother cock for him to enjoy. “It’s like y’were made for this—” He continues to babble, huffing against his desk while his thighs shake with you, his tummy tight with lust when he imagines that you might already be close from his harassment, like you were in the room with him. And he almost wants to let you cum, only because he’s too selfish to pass up the opportunity of feeling you convulse on his cock. But he’s so close too, and he smiles with an offer you’ve got no way of reciprocating. “Wanna see who cums first?”

You have been such a good girl for him tonight, haven’t you? Allowed him to inflict such lewd acts on you, and not only that, but you’ve accepted his brutish abuse so nicely. Never mind the fact that you quite literally couldn’t fight back, he’s far too pussy drunk and buried too deep in the faux cunt to rationalise with himself, mind empty beyond the need to breed his favourite new toy the way she deserves, snapping his hips into your hole with sloppy precision; he can’t seem to get the right angle, nor can he keep a consistent speed, rendered dumb thanks to the tight squeeze your cunt offers him. “Does it feel good?” He sighs, riling himself up as an orgasm creeps up on him, humouring his fantasies while he’s ball deep inside of you because: why not at this point? “Does big brothers cock feel sooo good?” He continues, adopting a babying tone as if you were actually under him right now, nails digging into the split wood of his desk as if it were your hair, or your shoulder, doesn’t matter; he just wants to keep you in place. “Gonna cum for big brother? Make him feel so good too?” He pants, an unavoidable coil tightening in his core as heat flushes to his cheeks, voice barely above a whisper while he fucks himself off. He can only imagine what he must look like right now, bent over his desk and huffing, head pressed against his forearm to hide his face into his desk, pants barely half on or half off, dangling by his knees while his hips swing in the air. And then, he tries to imagine you. How cute you’d look right now as he fucks into you with such speed he has to step back a few times to re-position, balls slapping against the magic toy with a resounding plap!, sticky sweet slick keeping him connected to you with a soft squish. He only stands up more so that he can continue his delusions, looking down to where his cock meets you cunt and how a ring of cream rests at the base, a sheen coating the rest of his length for him to gawk at.

A mistake, truthfully, but he isn’t complaining too much when he instantly shoots a load inside of the toy, shoving his cock as deep as possible into the tiny hole stretched to fit him so he can properly sow his seed, stake his claim all over your insides with thick white ropes. Mark you as: Big Brother’s. It doesn’t so much as catch him by surprise as it becomes immediately expected, face all scrunched up in rotten pleasure for the accidental creampie, a strangled sis caught in his throat before moans tumble, followed by breathy laughter and sighs. He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips forward, riding his orgasm out by riding you, inadvertently fucking his cum deeper into the toy and keeping it there, lazily tugging the toy up and down his still hard cock until he’s sure he’s made you’ve milked every last drop he has for you.

He only realises that he’s neglected to let you cum as he’s pulling out, slowly removing his cock from the toy with a wince, watching with genuine interest as drops of seed dribble out and over his spent cock. Serves you right for dating Sam when big brother has been right here this whole time, waiting to have you submit to his cock. He laughs, a sinister smirk with knowing that you must be so frustrated to be left high and dry like that, to no longer even appreciate the feeling of fullness as he twists the toy in his hand so that he can assess the damage, gently pulling the folds apart so he can watch more of his cum seep out. A deep urge to eat you clean rises to his tongue when he inspects your hole, but he bites it back, tells himself that there’s more satisfaction in leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions than to reinforce your bad behaviour behind a tongue flat against your slit. That, and he’d hate to reward you and have you know that you’ve given him the best orgasm of his life; and you didn’t even have to do anything but lay there! He’s treated you well enough, he decides, dropping the toy on his desk for him to gape at lovingly.

He sits there for a few seconds, awaiting the wash of clarity over his system to come, but when it doesn’t he simply smiles. “Fuck.” He finally sighs, and it’s a confession of sorts. Of what he doesn’t have much time to figure out, seeing as his phone soon vibrates next to him, a flash of a notification on the screen. It takes him a moment to get to it, because he’s too busy admiring how messy he’s made your pretty princess parts, smearing big brothers cum all over the slit with his thumb just because he can. But he gives in to curiosity once he’s satisfied with painting, unlocking his phone only to be greeted by your name, or the one he’s so fondly given you.

Brat: Can you come help me sebby?

A loud bark of laughter rises in his chest, throwing his head back in the gratification you’ve so kindly offered him. You can handle a little more teasing, right? It’s only fair, seeing as this is the first time he’s fully bitten back at you.

Sebastian: No, I’m busy.

And it’s not even a lie, his thumb gliding easily over the faux clit to ruin you some more, a punishment for distracting him from his afterglow. He almost gets to forget about you before you draw his attention again, another vibration from his phone that reads:

Brat: It’s serious, please!

Sebastian: … Where are you?

It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he wants to make you really suffer. It’s not often you need his help, and he’d be a liar if he said it doesn’t feel nice to be relied on by you like this. All you need is him, right? Need big brother to come make you feel all better, yeah? Or maybe that’s just his cock talking, jerking at the thought of you relying on him for more, needing him to help finish you off because you’re too fucked dumb on big brothers cock to function. He’s got half a mind to walk up to your room and fuck you for real, help you finish that way. Would you try to kick him off with his cock womb deep, tears streaming down your pretty face, or would you sob from pleasure, begging big brother for more, because you’re so close and you’d take anything at this point?

Brat: My room, please hurry.!

Definitely more his cock, twitching back to life with the promise of being allowed entry into your sacred room, your hiding place. He locks his phone and throws it to his bed, tucking his stained cock back into his pants and pulling his skinny jeans back up, neglecting to zip in his rush to be at your side; thankful. You should be thankful he’s even giving you the time of day, seeing as you’ve already exhausted your usefulness to him for tonight. Cock spent and hole used, what more could you give him? Regardless, he’s more curious than he is spiteful right now. Wants to see what you look like after taking his cock, and if it matches his thoughts. Without much more convincing, he tucks the toy into his hoodie pocket, confident that you’ll somehow find the evidence of his crime if he doesn’t stash it close to him at all times. He can easily clean his hoodie of cum later, but he can’t face the ramifications of mistreating you in such a deplorable fashion; not now, not ever. His little secret, yeah?

But his chest tightens as he runs up the stairs, breath caught in his throat as he stands outside your room and knocks. Anxious? He can’t figure out what for. This is everything he’s been wanting and more, and when you usher him inside with a panicked voice, he thinks he might have taken things a bit too far; protectiveness surging past his lungs and heart, rising up in a breathy “What’s wrong?” as if he doesn’t know damn well why you sound so confused right now. But that big brother attitude doesn’t last for long, ignored the minute his eyes find yours, taking in the sight of you clutching at your sheets as if you were in pain, legs crossed and covered, like you’re hiding from him. And oh it feels good to be preying on you like this, he has to fight the urge to smile at the pathetic pose you take for him, all pliant and submissive and seeking his help. He doesn't miss the way your nipples poke through your little shirt, or how you sweat from head to toe; working out? And his imagination didn’t do you any justice, seeing you cower in front of him like this as your legs rub together is a wet dream come true. He’s definitely hard again, keeping both hands in his pocket and pushing it down to hopefully hide his embarrassment from your eyes as you shiver before him. He watches as you automatically reach out for him, your mouth opening as if you were going to say something and—

“I— Ah!”

Instinctively, his fingers dip into the toy the moment you try to communicate with him, surprising even him when you gasp at the slender prodding against your insides. If you say anything resembling coherent he doesn't hear it, zoning out as he zeros in on your tits, mouth watering at the sight alone. He wants to suck on them, curling his finger inside of you in response to your unknown teasing, a declaration of want to own every part of you. At least now he knows that the toy is actually magic, unquestionably linked to your sopping wet cunt with how you’re currently reacting to his touch. The way you shake as his finger pad circles your entrance, gliding with the amount of cum leaking from it—and by extension dirtying your bed sheets at this very moment—and how you bite your lip so cutely when he lets its dip further into the hole again, staring directly at you with concentration to commit every detail of you to memory for tonight, almost moaning at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his dumb gaze, how pretty you look with your brows all furrowed and hand hiding your cute little sounds.

All you’ve done is convinced him that he needs to fuck you for real, and soon. Twisting the single finger buried knuckle deep in the toy around, exploring your pretty little cunt with precision. Like he already knows all your sweet spots given the reactions you’re offering him; or maybe that’s because he’s already fucked you close to completion already, fingering you to the cusp again as he stands awkwardly hiding his hard on in your room.

“What— Uh, what’s wrong?” He clears his throat, but still his voice is dry and needy, a hidden deep want for you lacing the words as you squirm and sob on your sheets. For him. It’s a bit weird that he’s waited so long to ask you, he thinks, but you also seem to be a bit too distracted to notice as he introduces a second finger to the puffy toy in his pocket, pushing in instantly and easily from the fluids leaking from your hole, leaving you unable to talk once more. “Are you okay?” He gasps, knows that you aren’t, fuck, look at you; but he has to ask to keep up his facade. Wants to pretend he doesn’t know why you’re struggle to do anything other than babble before him as a means to bully you some more. It’s your fault, maybe if you weren’t so fucking cute when crying then he’d move on, but your tear stained cheeks coax him to continue, scissoring his long fingers inside your hole with eagerness, like doing so would make you feel better.

And it would, and he wants to see it, but the second he begins to slowly pump his scissoring in and out of your greedy cunt you urge him to leave. A high pitched whine of go away! While you bury your face in the sheets, folding in on yourself—fucking pretty, by the way—as he assumes you’re right on the edge is enough for him. Your hidden face providing him the space to smile down at you, but it’s loving. Adoration, even. Can’t quite believe just how pretty you are when you’re rendered useless on his hand like this, and he promises himself as he turns to leave to have you act so sweetly with him the next time you try to annoy him. This is the little sister he’s always wanted, and if you play nice for him, he’ll even call you as such to your face.

“Okay.” He simply leaves you with, all breathy and empty as he exits your room, slamming the door shut only because he’s in a rush to rest his back against the same door to pull his cock out, still fingering your pretty pussy in his pocket and listening out for your cute moans to soon fill your room. Another round wouldn’t hurt, especially when you start to whimper his name so prettily like that, right?

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut #also trying a new way of styling these posts!#think its cute #I FORGOT TO ADD THE TITLE HEHE

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gh0stsp1d3r · 10 months

Text

Ruthless

Harley Quinn typa reader x Hobie brown, violence mention, if you know Harley Quinn yk she’s very.. violent (and obsessed) so… enemies to lovers trope

“Oh, c’mon.” You whined, currently tied up in webs.

“I’ve been chasin’ you for fuckin’ ages, can’t believe this is how I caught you.”

“I was going to hang out with my friend! This is unfair, I deserve a rematch.” You pouted.

“Yeah, no. After that lil stunt you pulled last week, no way. You’re ruthless.”

“They deserved it! Bunch of rich assholes.” You mumbled the last part.

“Well, I can agree with you on that last part, but murdering them ain’t exactly the way to go.” He said, picking you up as if you weighed nothing, and dragging you.

“It was funnn.. plus you know I’m gonna break out again, right?”

“Like you have the other 10 times?”

“Exactly.”

“Great. Can’t wait.” He said sarcastically and rolled his eyes.

And you’d gotten bored of being carried, so you quickly threw yourself onto the ground when you saw a knife in the alley.

He quickly looked back, and saw you cutting you webs, he shook his head and sighed, crouching down to your level as you continued to cut through the webs.

“You never learn, do ya?” He reached over you, grabbing the knife from you.

“No, not really, no.” You shook your head, now just laying on the ground looking at him.

“You’re insufferable.” He sighed and shook his head, sitting down in front of you now.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Cause… rich people suck, plus they’re like some sorta cult, they tried to kill my friend.”

“Still don’t make it right, you know? You’re wanted right now, not sure it’s very safe to be walking around like it’s nothing.”

“Please, if I can handle like a shit ton of rich guys, I can handle some cops."

“Yeah, well, I don’t like ‘em either but..”

“But..? Aren’t you like punk? Aren’t cops and shit like.. exactly what you don’t stand for?”

“Well, I’m better than the system for one. You’re better than the system, but you’re doin’ it wrong.” He shook his head.

“Didn’t know there was a way to go against the system wrong.”

“You- you murder people, you’re a killin’ machine, which I gotta admit is pretty cool. I help people-“

“I help people.. just not in the same way you do-“

“You help people by murdering people. Which in the same sense is… hurting people at the same time.”

“Huh. Guess I never thought about it like that.” You shrugged.

He sighed, and messed with the knife in his hand. He reluctantly cut the webs.

“Jus’… chill out on the murder, yeah? I do like what you did what that one guy though.”

“Which one?” You beamed and sat across from him.

“The predator guy.. what’s his name?”

“His name was like Josh or something.”

“Yeah, him. He deserved it.” He said, and smiled under his mask slightly.

“Just what do you look like under that mask?” You asked him.

“Like a normal person.”

You quirked an eyebrow and smiled slightly. You reached your hands out and pulled up his mask, before you could fully take it off, he stopped you. You saw only his nose, that’s as far as it went. His lips seemed so… kissable?

He let go of your hand and you looked at him for a while. And before you knew it, you both were leaning in, kissing each other.

“You’re very.. pretty.” He said.

You laughed quietly “Well, I would say you too but I still don’t know what you look like under there.” Your cheeks heated up at the compliment.

“Nice try.” He stood up again, and so did you. He pulled down his mask, giving you a small salute and used his webs to go up on a building, jumping through them.

You stared for a while, still in shock.

“Shit.”

—————

Tag list:

@enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot @anonima-2

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #spider punk #spider punk x reader #atsv fic #fem!reader #hobie brown x fem!reader

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sometimes-i-write-good · 1 year

Text

Abs Sans Brain

Top Gun: Maverick - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x f!pilotreader [no use of y/n]

2.6k || Your date with Jake at the Hard Deck is crashed by the rest of the squad.

==== Genre: Fluffy, flirty, and funky

CW: Swearing, drinking

Author’s Note: I’m writing this before I start writing the fic itself. I’m shooting for 600 - 800 words. Please laugh at me when we see how wrong I end up being. Oh, and the reader is best friends with Bob because I said so. || cross-posted on ao3

===

There were very few things you had asked for in life. Good health, good people, and the entire sky at your disposal. A small list, if a bit demanding. One thing you hadn’t been expecting when you’d asked for the Heavens was all those who came with it. In particular, Jake Seresin, who slid into the booth across from you. Beers in hand, grin in place.

“Come here often, doll?”

You roll your eyes at him. A movement that does little to hide the smile blooming across your lips. “I can’t believe I ever let that line work on me.”

“In your defense,” he said, taking a long swig of his beer. “The first time I used that line, we were thousands of feet in the sky. It’s where I’m at my most irresistible.”

“Ah, yes. That must have been it. Everywhere else you’re just insufferable.” You laughed and took a significantly smaller sip of your beer. It’s your second one in ten minutes. “If I didn’t know you any better, Seresin, I’d say you’re trying to get me drunk here.”

“Tryin’?” he scoffed, “and you say you know me.”

The unfortunate thing about this whole situation was that you did know Jake. You knew him well, better than Coyote. You knew his favorite color was yellow. That’s why it had been put in his helmet. (He’d also left off the ‘a’ in his helmet because the idea of filling it in to say ‘Hungman’ fit his sixth grade sense of humor). You knew he over-exaggerated his southern drawl whenever you walked into a room because you’d once drunkenly admitted to him that hearing him talk flooded your mind with dirty thoughts. You knew Jake’s mind was fifty percent dirty thoughts, twenty-five percent sky, twenty percent you, five percent ways to school you at cards and five percent cheeky comebacks he was sitting on to annoy the rest of the squad with. And, most disheartening of all, you knew Jake was not a romantic.

It didn’t bother him that date night was a few beers, fried food, and a game of pool. It didn’t bother you either. Not entirely, but you were hoping for one night where you could dress up nice and go out somewhere fancy. Somewhere along the lines of joining the military and ending up at TOPGUN the line of being feminine had been blurred. Commanders couldn’t understand why you’d want to put on a bit of mascara to fly a plane. In the same stretch of imagination, Hangman seemingly couldn’t put it together that you’d like a bit of romance in your life beyond the cheesy pickup lines and pet names.

If you could add anything to your list of ‘good health, good people, and the entire sky’ it would be a few nice dates. You’d say nothing fancy, but you wouldn’t mean it. You wanted fancy. Even if it was just to realize that fancy is actually not what you wanted at all. Something to change up the pace of playing pool with Jake and being hit on by him like you were his latest conquest and not his girlfriend of six months.

Part of you felt like you were being slightly unfair.

“Your turn, doll,” Jake said, but when you went to pass in front of him he grabbed you by your belt loop. He pulled you back towards him, matching your laugh, and captured your lips with his.

Moments like these almost had you convinced that maybe you could push those selfish date ideas off to the side. Jake liked showing off. He liked being able to flirt with you in a place where you could laugh loudly and no one would look at you weird. He liked being able to slip out the back door to walk down the beach with you under the stars.

“If it’s my turn,” you said between kisses, “then let me shoot the ball.”

Reluctantly, he let go of your waist and you positioned yourself to sink yet another ball into the pocket. You planned to kick his ass in an embarrassingly short amount of time to get the pettiness out of your system, then enjoy your night together.

Except for the fact that the front bell chimed, and familiar shouts filled the bar. Familiar because you’d heard them less than an hour ago. You considered altering your list once more. ‘Good people who knew when not to come get a drink.’

“Hangman!” Payback shouted across the bar. “Rack ‘em up. Rooster was just telling me how the two of you ended in a tie game last week.”

Jake’s laughter filled your ears. He still had a hand on the small of your back, but his attention was entirely on your group of friends trailing through the door. “Chicken doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. I smoked his ass.”

“I’d like to see you put your money where your mouth is, Seresin. Unless you’re still broke from the last time I kicked your ass.”

Rooster headed over to the pool table followed closely by Fanboy and Coyote. Payback, scribbling in a notebook, hung back for a moment. Then opened his mouth to edge the tension on a bit more. You knew your date night had been pushed aside, so you took it upon yourself to step off to the side yourself.

Phoenix smiled at you, waving, and tilted her head. “I thought you guys were on a date?” She asked. You shot her a look that said ‘We’ll talk later.’ Natasha let out a laugh. “Sorry. Look, I’ll get you something strong to drink.”

“Make it a double!” You called out after her as she made her way over to the bar where she’d be trapped by millions of questions from Penny. The sound of your name, your government name, being called by a certain southern drawl caught your attention. “Yes, love?” You asked, hoping that your boyfriend was about to make an unexpected promise that the two of you could leave after one game.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Jake nudged you softly with his shoulder then threw his head over in Bradley’s direction. “We can always just ask the peanut squad to leave. The small man will only get so much smaller when I whoop his ass for the hundredth time”

Rooster stiffens, almost to attention. He holds the pool cue next to him. Straight and tall. “I’m taller than you are, Bagman.”

It had become a trend of sorts to refer to Jake with various insults that fell so effortlessly from Bob’s mouth. You had tried your hardest to resist, out of solidarity for your boyfriend, some of the nicknames were too creative to avoid… and it gave you an excuse to make Jake try and draw his true name from your lips.

“I wasn’t referring to that kind of height, Chick.”

“C’mon, Jake,” you whine, “can you please just be the polite Jake I know you to be?”

“Oxymoron!” Rooster calls from across the pool table to which Jake whirls around and says, “What the fuck did you just call me?”

You shoot a glare in Bradley’s direction. “Seriously?” Out of the corner of your eye you see Payback pulling that same little notebook out of his pocket to make a mark. You turn on him. “And what the hell are you doing?”

He turns the page towards you. On it in crude, unintelligible handwriting is what you can only assume to be two columns labeled “Hangman” and “Rooster” with a series of ticks beneath them. Jake in the lead by a long shot. “I like to keep track.”

In the corner, you noticed when you squinted to read the handwriting, was a third little box. Completely full of ticks. “Who is that?”

“Bob,” Payback said at the same time Bob said, “Mine.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Jake. “Can I talk to you?”

Your tone is enough to etch worry on his face. He set his pool cue against the table, grabbed you by the waist, and pulled you off to the side. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“This isn’t a date.” The whiny lit to your voice didn’t make you feel the most sexy, but you’d tried seducing Jake to go to a movie so the two of you could make out in the dark instead and that hadn’t worked. Pouting was your last resort. “Every time we go on a date, they show up. They’re like fleas!”

“At least fleas can do tricks.” Jake turned to look over his shoulder. “Rooster can’t even hit a ball straight.”

“Jake, I’m being serious. Why won’t you just take me on a date? A real one.”

“Look, pretty girl, I’ll make a deal with you.”

You side-eyed him, unconvinced, and sighed. “Lucky me.”

“Play me in darts. I win, we stay and hang out with everyone. Lord knows Rooster and Phoenix need to be humbled in pool. Plus, you’re the only one here who can get Bob to do enough shots to start doing karaoke.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I know how much you love his drunk renditions of ‘Sweet Caroline.’”

Jake had a point. There had been one night - shockingly, another date night at the Hard Deck turned into a group activity - where you went to sulk in a booth while your schmooze of a boyfriend fueled his bromance with Coyote, Rooster, and Payback. Bob, still not the biggest partier, had grown tired of the swapping insults over darts and was worn out from dodging Phoenix and Fanboy’s attempts to get him to dance with them. So he’d ended up in the booth across from you.

You’d been pounding back shots of tequila like they were water. “He’s stupid,” you had slurred to Bob, “but you’re not stupid. You’re fun. Here, do a shot with me. Let’s be fun.”

He would tell you the next day that he had only intended to do one shot but one turned into two which turned into four which turned into Bob unplugging the jukebox to sing a melody of songs from your Grandma’s playlist with impressive range. After each one he would make sure to point you out of the gathering crowd of dazzled patrons. “This one’s for her!” He’d shout in dedication and start up singing again.

It hadn’t been a bad night then, and, even though you’d never admit it to Jake, you had a lot of fun. Tonight would be the same if you could let yourself stop moping long enough to enjoy it. But there was still the matter of:

“What if I win?” You ask. Competition was the reason you were here on the West Coast to begin with. You were the best of the best because you refused to let anyone else get the upper hand on you. “What do I get then, Seresin?”

“If you win,” Jake said, slowly kneading your hips with his hands. “I will take you out on another date - a fancy one. With roses and the opening of doors and the biggest bottle of wine this nice restaurant downtown has to offer. I’ll dress up and give you the most romantic night of your life. But tonight we’ll stay here and do everything we’d do anyway if I had win.”

“If I win.”

“If you win… but you won’t.”

He didn’t have to say it for you to know it was true. He threw darts the same way he flew planes: with deadly precision. There was a reason Hangman was the only one out of everyone in their generation with two confirmed kills. He could land a shot with his eyes closed. In the air and with two feet planted firmly on the hardwood floors of the Hard Deck.

“That’s not fair at all.”

“I don’t make the rules, sweet thing.” That stupid smirk was back on his face. The two of you hadn’t made it back to your booth yet for appetizers, otherwise there’d surely be a toothpick rolling between those lips of his too. “C’mon, we’ll make it easy. Three darts each. Most points win.”

“That’s not how you play darts, Jake. Even I know that.”

“Bagman,” Payback called out, “what are you doing, the balls are racked?”

You went to grab the darts from the board as Jake said, “Kicking my girl’s ass in darts as a warm up for kicking your sorry asses in every game after.”

“Ladies first,” you gestured, mimicking his smug smirk. He glared playfully at you but stepped up to throw the first dart in a movement almost too quick for you to see. A perfect bullseye. “Show off.”

“Got to put some skin in the game.” Jake moved you in front of him. His hands gripping your waist to hold you in place as he pressed kisses to your neck. “I like your skin better, darlin’.”

You shooed him away. The dart felt heavy in your hand. Screwing this up would essentially be throwing away your only sure shot at the date of your dreams. You lifted your arm and threw the dart. It flew, fitting itself snugly into the single bull.

Jake’s turn. He moved just as quickly as the first time, but the angle he shot at landed the dart in a single scoring 18. Winning was still well within your grasp. A decent date was inching closer and closer.

Your turn. A deep steady breath. This dart felt weightless. An extension of yourself. You throw the dart in a less fluid motion than Jake, but manage to stick it in the bullseye right next to his.

“Look at that!” You shouted, pointing and jumping. Joy overwhelmed you not just because you were currently winning, but because this had been the first bullseye you’d made without Jake helping you in the slightest. He’d likely still claim this victory as his. It was his silly deal that made you so determined in the first place.

Jake’s final turn. He still had the chance to put you in the dust. Your eyes were glued to the board, but the dart never came. When you turned to look at him, Jake threw the dart at the ground. “You win,” he said, but you shook your head. Eyes back to the board. You won even without throwing this last dart.

You snapped your head in his direction, ready to call him out for cheating, but you were cut off by Jake’s lips crashing onto yours. He pulled away quickly, muttered a small, “You really think I’d deny you anything, doll?” then rushed off to join the restless group at the pool table. Leaving you to glance from the stray dart stuck in the floor and the man you were beginning to fall for at the pool table.

Phoenix saddled up next to you, drink in hand, and passed one over to you. “What did he promise you if you won?”

“A real date.”

“The fancy one with all that inspiration you’ve been sending me on Pintrest.”

“That’s the one.”

She let out a low whistle. “Wow, and I thought he loved you just by the way he looked at you, but this is something else. He’s smitten.”

“I guess I have that effect on some people,” you said and hid your giddy grin with a sip of your drink. “Did you ask Penny to get the tequila shots ready?”

“The real question is if we’re ready to hear Bob signing.”

This might just be one of your favorite dates yet.

===

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