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#and i LOVE enemies to lovers
greykolla-art · 1 month
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Alastor: “Now, let’s talk about literally anything else please!”
Me: “Good! Cause I don’t know where you went so I can’t go further with this!😂”
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inkskinned · 5 months
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in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!
they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.
they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.
you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.
but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.
where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.
and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?
doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.
but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.
what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.
just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?
your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.
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hannikin-grahamkin · 1 year
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He's not my enemy. He is my homoerotic rival and if anybody but me ever tries to hurt him I will promptly kill them.
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taruolentow · 11 days
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wine drunk
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calumfmu · 2 months
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The King's Reign
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King Steve, the stupid nickname you had heard your entire life. The rumors, the huge ego to match. It was everything that made you hate him, especially when your best friend wouldn't shut up about him. Robin was forcing you to be friends with him, but it wouldn't stop the passion you had dedicated to wanting nothing to do with him.
Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers edition, 7.7k+ words
cw: smut, unprotected sex, oral, Steve talking you through it (!!), fingering, angst, tension, 18+, mdni
You had heard rumors of ‘King Steve’ your entire life. Being in a small town like Hawkins allowed every rumor—big or small, to be spread like wild fire. Even when it came to talking about Steve Harrington’s dick. No matter what you did, nothing could allow you to escape the whispers throughout the town.
When Robin had befriended the man of conversation, you were annoyed, to say the least. You could barely escape him when you were trying not to listen to the gossip mill, but it was even harder when your best friend wouldn’t shut up about the guy.
You chewed on a fry, eyes focused behind your friend as you gazed at a group of girls from your school across the way. They were walking into a Tammy’s, hair higher than ever and short shorts hiked up on their long legs. You stared at them, wondering if they had a run around with the guy.
Robin was droning on about something Steve had done today at work, involving a bunch of kids who seemed too young for him.
A fry hit the side of your head, knocking your focus into her instead of the girls across the mall.
“Yn!” Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re not even listening to me.”
“And you would be incorrect,” you responded, smoothing the grease off of your face from where it hit. You grimaced, annoyed at her antics. “You said something about Steve, some kid named Justin, and a stupid handshake or something.”
Robin pressed her lips in a straight line, rolling her eyes once more. They might roll out of her head at this point, you thought.
“His name is Dustin, and the handshake wasn’t stupid, it was cute,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. She pushed her food tray away from her, burger half eaten and fries lay abandon across the plastic.
You gasped, leaning across the table and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Woah, Rob.”
She furrowed her brow, wondering what you were getting at.
“I had no idea you swung that way, new development I see.” You wiggled your eyebrows at her, wanting to see how far her patience went. “I just have to know—is it as big as everyone says it is?”
You laughed and leaned back in your chair, blocking your face with your arms as Robin threw a handful of fries at you. Her patience ran out, clearly.
“Yn, can you please be serious for once?” The brunette whined, pouting out her bottom lip as she looked at you. Her infamous begging face. “I’m just telling you because I want you to be friends with him. I can’t be a child of divorce between you. It’s so emotionally draining.”
You giggled, eyeing the way her uniform made her look ridiculous as she begged you. It was rumpled in all the wrong places, red tie hanging loosely at her neck. It made her look like she was perpetually going to a Halloween party.
“How do you think I feel being an actual child of divorce?”
She gaped at you, mouth hanging open as she was at a loss of words. Sputtering, she found the words to say, “Fuck, okay my bad. You know what I meant!”
“I know, Rob, Im just fucking with you,” you laughed, shaking your head as she flushed in the face. She genuinely felt bad, you could tell.
Your parents had recently divorced, next month marking the full year since their split. Tommy and his stupid friends had made it their entire personality and asked you about it ever since the news hit the town. What’s wrong with Mommy and Daddy, they would ask. Daddy found out Mommy slept with the entire town?
You grimaced, thinking about the memories. None of the rumors were true, but that didn’t falter the town people into thinking that you all should be walking around with a Scarlet Letter on your chest.
Shaking your head, you diverted the subject as you hand came to rest of the table. “Me and Steve have never been friends, so you can’t be a child of divorce, Rob. And also, I don’t want to be friends with him.”
Robin stretched her arms across the table, grasping your hand in the two of hers. “Yn, please. I know we both used to hate him-”
“Still do.”
“-but I really think you’ll like him,” she continued, not batting an eyelash at your interruption. “He’s not that same Steve-”
“King Steve.”
“-that everyone talks about. Those rumors are just rumors, I mean, you know how it goes.” She paused when you looked away from her, squinting as you stared unfocused in the distance. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat in discomfort as you turned to look back at her. “Please, Yn?”
You chose silence in this moment, blinking at her with a serious expression on your face as she pouted at you. Her blue eyes were practically watering at this point, long lashes batting rapidly at you.
“Please, Yn.”
Her pleads continued, grip squeezing into your hand as a deadpan expression was being held on your face. This went on for another two minutes (you counted) as she begged you, leaning down every 15 seconds or so to kiss at your hand.
“Okay! Okay, fine, Rob!” You gave in, laughing as she decided to place kisses all over every inch of your hand. She cheered, throwing her hands in celebration before shaking them clasped at the sides of her head, as if thanking an audience for winning an award.
“I literally love you so much, Yn,” she beamed at you, lips stretched thin as she exposed all of her teeth to you. You don’t think she’s smiled this big, ever. “So, tonight, I was thinkin-”
“Tonight?!” Your eyes opened wide, heart beating in your chest as you realized how soon this interaction was going to be. You thought you at least had more than a few hours.
“Oh,” she smirked at you, tilting her head to the side. “Did I not mention that it was tonight?”
Sighing, you trailed a hand down your face, pulling down your features as she shared the details to come. You loved your friend, you really did. She was your best friend, but Christ was she a lot sometimes.
Awkward wasn’t the word to describe the tension in the room. The only sound you could hear was Robin’s nails clacking against the sound of her glass, and Steve’s occasional cough.
You were curled into the side of the couch, Steve on the other, Robin in between the two of you. Steve was looking every which way except the two of you, hand running through his hair as he chewed on his bottom lip. Robin glanced between the two of you, taking sips of her watered down sloppy cocktail in her hand. She kept moving to say something, mouth opening and closing around empty words.
You with your back against the arm of the couch, feet tucked into you as you stared down Steve. You were curious, if they were to ask you. You took in his features, his long hair, giant brown eyes, and navy—is that fucking cashmere?—sweater across his shoulders.
You were observing why him and Robin were friends, why this man had such a hold on your friend. He was attractive, you could admit, boyish features drawing you in, in a way you would never admit in a thousand years. He seemed nervous in this moment, something you hadn’t expected him to be. Cocky, arrogant, rude, brash, anything but this.
But he was still King Steve. The man you had heard about since you went to elementary school together. You were forced to listen to stories of Steve kissing girls underneath the jungle gym evolved to him fucking them in the back of his BMW at the drive-in. It was repulsive.
Robin cleared her throat, drawing your attention away from Steve as his into her. She offered a small smile, awkwardly tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“So… guys,” she phrased it like a question, voice dragging up on the end of the word. “How about actual conversation?”
“Sure.”
“No.”
The two of you having contradictory answers caused your eyes to be pulled into each other. Your face was unmoving as Steve raised his eyebrows at you, confused.
“I’d rather sit in silence,” you muttered, breaking eye contact with him as you leaned your head into your hand. Staring at him while he was focused on something else was one thing, but holding eye contact made you crumble, a slight blush crossing your features. You focused on Robin, shaking your head as she gave you a pleading look.
The blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Steve, a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow coming up to cross his face. It was like a switch flipped, the cockiness that surrounded the King Steve rumors coming into play.
“I think that’s a great idea, Rob,” he muttered, voice low as he stared into you. You turned your face towards the coffee table, examining the items abandon on the glass. Your eye twitched at the nickname of your best friend you so often used. You studied the nearly full bottle of vodka surrounded by shot glasses, a deck of cards, and a joint tucked into a clear baggie.
Robin had been optimistic at the night having a positive turn of events.
“I’ll start,” Steve said, turning his entire body so he was facing you. Your bodies mirrored each other, Robin sitting awkwardly in the middle as her eyes flitted between the two of you. “So, Yn… How come I’ve been friends with Robin this long, and have never had the honor of meeting you?”
“Wish I could say the same,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your head on your hand. Your heart was beating heavy behind your chest as you watched this man practically morph into a completely different person.
“Yn…” Robin’s hand came to rest on your knee, squeezing as her voice was a warning to you. Be on your best behavior, you could hear her thoughts.
“Hmm,” he answered, you felt his eyes brushing over your figure. You felt insecure in that moment, focusing on the bottle of vodka as you debated the quickest way to black out in that moment. “I’m just saying, Yn. I’ve heard about you for so long, yet I think this is the first time I’ve even seen you.”
You cut your eyes suddenly to him, your own gaze darkening as his words echoed through the room. You weren’t going to crumble (this time), your mind intent on showing him you weren’t intimidated by him.
At the eye contact, his smirk widened even further. There was a glint of something in his eye, similar to the stories you had heard of the Harrington Charm, or so it was called.
“Funny enough, I’ve heard a lot about you too, Steve,” you replied, huffing as his name left your mouth. “This town can’t stop talking about you. King Steve and how you’re so irresistible.”
The last word in your mouth dripped with venom, squinting your eyes at the suggestive look on his face.
Silence held the next few moments, Robin looking at the ceiling as she muttered words under her breath. It sounded something like a prayer.
“Would you like to find out, Yn?” His voice was low as his eyes bored into you, teeth dragging across his bottom lip as your name escaped his lips. Hair hung into his eyes, head tilted down slightly as he leaned forward an inch. Your breath hitched at the small movement, words at a loss.
Robin shot up from the couch suddenly, arms thrown into the air as she turned around to face the two of you. She shook her shoulders, grimacing at the interaction. “Okay!”
Steve slowly dragged his eyes away from you, smirk disappearing as he glanced up at the brunette. Just like that, King Steve was gone. He settled back into the arm of the couch as his eyebrows were raised to his hairline, lips parted as he stared at your best friend.
“Enough of whatever that was,” Robin tried to blink away the memory, hands resting at her hips. She turned to look at the coffee table behind her, leaning over to grab the abandoned bottle of vodka and the deck of cards. Grimace still present amongst her features, she held them up. “Drinking game, anyone?”
The night continued among the three of you, shots being poured as matching face cards were being thrown onto the table. You were pretty drunk at this point, vision blurring as you leaned into your friend. She was resting her head on top of yours, laughing at something Steve was doing.
He had stuck a card to his forehead, trying to guess which one it was. His eyes were glazed over, slightly hooded with intoxication as him and Robin bickered back and forth about the number of cards there was in deck.
He was losing the debate, set on why Robin was wrong. You had a dopey smile on your face, enjoying the interaction between the two of them. You could see why they got along, energies so different, yet so similar.
“Harrington, you’re so wrong,” Robin laughed, shaking her head as she ripped the card off of his face. A small red mark was left behind, Steve groaning as he rubbed it.
She stood up from the floor, stretching her arms out as she walked away from where you all were surrounding the coffee table.
“I’m starving, Steve, come with me,” she demanded, holding a hand out to help the man up as he complained.
“What about me?” You asked, frowning as you watched him begin to trail her into the kitchen. Your question went unanswered, the two disappearing around the corner.
You sighed to yourself, laying out your body on the floor as the room began to spin in circles. Eyes closing, you held your breath, praying you sober up a little before the end of the night comes upon you.
The look on Steve’s face flashed behind the darkness of your eyes, the sound of your name in his voice echoed in your ears. You felt a small smile creeping on you, only for you to open your eyes suddenly, viscerally shaking the memory out of your mind.
What the fuck, Yn? You questioned yourself, blinking as you looked around the room. Glancing at a clock across the room, you noticed it was half past 1 a.m., way later than you realized. Fuck, my parents are going to kill me.
You glanced towards the direction of the kitchen, head tilting back against the carpet. Robin and Steve’s voices were low, but urgent, causing you to sit up on your elbows.
You strained your ears, trying to focus in on her words.
“-don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Steve!”
“Whaaat?”
Their voices were heavy with the liquor, almost sounding drowsy.
“Stop trying to fuck my friends, Steve. I’m serious.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach, breath getting caught in your chest as you heard Steve laugh loudly at her words.
“Shhh!” You heard a thud, presumably the sound of her hand hitting him, based on the “Ow! What the hell!” that followed.
“Steve…”
Silence followed the conversation, your ears straining to see if the conversation continued, only for you to be met with the sound of footsteps coming your way. You panicked, moving to lay back down on the carpet. You crossed your hands over your chest, breathing fast as you tried to pretend like you hadn’t eavesdropped that entire thing.
Glancing up, you saw Steve swaying over you, hand on his hips as he smiled down at you. The overhead light shone over him, creating a halo around his perfectly styled hair.
You allowed yourself to stare for only a second before rolling your eyes.
“You’re blocking my light, Harrington,” you muttered, turning your head in the opposite direction.
He chuckled, moving so he sat next to you. He sat with his legs pulled close to him, being held together with his arms as they were clasped together.
“Sorry, didn’t realize you were getting a tan,” he was sarcastic in his words, light look on his face. He stared down at you, eyes grazing over your stretched out limbs.
“Why don’t you like me, Yn?” He asked, teeth pulling at the skin on his lip.
You closed your eyes, sighing as he started up that shit again. Did you not just have that conversation earlier that night?
“I quite like you,” his voice was a whisper now, hand coming out to dance at the edge of your own sweater. You pulled your arm away from him, tucking your elbow into your side. “You’re good for Robin.”
Questioning where Robin was, you glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Coming out was muffled sounds of her moving around the refrigerator, glasses clinging into one another. She was muttering to herself, something about pickles dipped in Greek yogurt.
“I think you’d be good for me, too.” The low tone of his voice had you squeezing your legs together, watching as his eyes briefly looked down at the movement. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the strands back into place.
“Leave me alone, Steve.” You tried to even your voice out as much as possible.
“I know you’re curious,” Steve cocked his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face. “About King Steve and his reign.”
You hacked a laugh, surprised at the boldness he had in this moment. The man’s ego was huge, even if he had the looks to back it.
“His reign? Is that what you want to call it?” Before you knew it, a small smirk of your own toyed at your lips.
“Oh, we can call it whatever you want,” the smile dropped from his lips as that darkened look took over his eyes once more. The amber glow of his irises turned nearly black, eyes narrowing as he stared into yours.
“The only thing I’m curious about,” you felt his fingers brush your clothes ribcage, ignoring the sensation, “is how there’s not a single bad thing to be said about this King Steve.”
His eyes slowly dragged over you, starting at your eyes to your lips to your chest and lingering at the spot between your thighs before returning to meet your gaze. He sucked in his bottom lip, gaze glancing towards the kitchen door as Robin began to make her way out, balancing about seven things between her arms.
She giggled, paying attention to the shaking of the items as she tried to not spill anything.
Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper, barely audible, “Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?”
You gulped, eyes on him as he switched it off, getting up to help Robin as she struggled with the items. You are so fucked.
Ever since that night between the three of you, you had been tagging along with Robin and her newfound friend more. The facade had been dropped, Steve no longer being flirtatious with you as you tried your hardest to ignore him.
He began to treat you the same as Robin, making stupid jokes towards you and letting his nerdy side come out during the interactions. Your hard exterior slightly crumbled away, defenses lowering as you realized that Robin may have been right about him. They weren’t completely gone, just lowered just enough to get to know him.
He wasn’t as much as an asshole as you imagined, he spent most of nights with a bunch of kids anyways. It was surprising, you had muttered some joke about the kids being “a little too young for you, Harrington?” only to earn his disapproval back. It was the most serious he had been since you met him, eyes dropping to the floor as he shook his head. You felt bad, seeing how defensive he had been over these kids he had practically adopted.
After that interaction, you dropped the King Steve stuff, seeing that your perception of him had been completely wrong. You would love to say that a beautiful friendship was blossoming between the two of you, but it was the opposite of that. You still hated him.
Every time you looked at him, you were reminded of his past, his stupid friend group that he used to hang with. Tommy had made the past few years of your life a living hell, torments of your parents separation and alleged affairs circling in the depths of your mind.
You watched him as he sat on the back porch of his house, cigarette hanging between his fingers as he reclined in the lawn chair over looking the pool. Robin sat in the chair next to him, turning the dial of the stereo as she tried to find a station with “goddamn decent music.”
The night sky hung heavy over you, your feet dipped into the pool as you watched the two from your perch on the side of the pool.
Smoke circled around him, lacing in and out of his hair as he looked in the night sky. A single light from the sliding glass door illuminated the back yard. His hair was annoying, perfectly framing his features as he blinked into the stars of the night.
As you took in the view of him and the rest of his backyard, rolling your eyes at the wealth that stood around you. Typical Harrington and his perfect home.
“Okay, fuck this,” Robin sighed, huffing as she shut off the stereo. She rose from the lawn chair, slipping on her shoes that lay beside it. “I’m over this, I’m going to bed.”
She began walking towards the sliding door, ruffling Steve’s hair as she past him. You protested, kicking your foot in the water.
“You’re going home?” You asked, watching as she paused to speak to you.
“Gonna sleep in Steve’s parents room, they’re not home,” she shrugged, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head.
“Never home,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head, thinking it was under his breath as he took a drag of his cigarette. You glanced at him, brow crinkling slightly at his comment.
“Just come up whenever you’re tired, Yn.” Robin turned, muttering a “g’night” as she made her way into the house, sliding the door behind her.
You looked down at your feet, watching the way the water circled at your ankles. Sounds of water swirling and crickets chirping in the stickiness of the night were filling your senses. You almost forgot Harrington was there, the sound of his cigarette burning out in the water interrupting your thoughts.
You looked at him from where he flicked it in the water. He stared at the way the burned bud floated in the water, moving in small circles as it soaked up the water around it. He seemed to be in a trance, eyes unfocused as they squinted around his thoughts.
You turned your eyes towards your feet again, ignoring him. You didn’t care. He was still that same Steve you despised so much.
“You want to sit here?” Steve asked, pulling you from thoughts once more. “Waters gotta be cold.”
“Absolutely not.” You were stubborn, squaring in your shoulders as your defenses picked up. You heard him huff, breath long as he exhaled.
“Why the fuck are you so rude?” He snapped, your head quickly swiveling to look at him. He shook his head as his hand rested at his bent knee, he continued to stare into the water. The half empty cigarette box was being turned over and over in his grasp.
“Easy for you to say, Harrington,” you shot back, anger seething through you as you got out of the pool. Water dripped around your feet as you grabbed your shoes next to you. You began to storm past him, muttering curses at him. “Good fucking night, asshole.”
You stopped at his chair, glaring down at him as he looked at you, eyes shifting up in your direction as his head stayed centered. Warmth flashed over you as you imagined he looked just like The Fallen Angel in this moment, eyes rimmed red as his gaze cut into you.
You ignored the thought, leaning over him as you seethed, “I don’t know what you think this is, Harrington, but we are not friends. We'll never be friends. You made my life a living hell, and I will resent you for that for the rest of my life. These rumors painting you in good light makes me loath you even more.”
Steve scoffed at your words, getting up so he stood in front of you. You bit your tongue as he towered over you, breath heavy as he searched your face, your harsh words lingering in the air.
“I didn’t do anything to you,” he whispered, voice low as your heart thundered. You swore he could hear it as he glanced down your body. "I've been nothing but nice to you."
“Liar.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took one in your direction.
“Okay,” he nodded his head, lips forming a frown. His hand reached up to pull at his hair, rolling his eyes as they closed with a sigh. He opened them, hand moving to rest at his hip. “Tell me then, what did I do that was so bad for you, Yn.”
“You know.”
He shook his head, not taking that answer. He remained silence.
“You know,” your voice cracked, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
He shook his head again, tilting his head as he examined you. His own eyes blinked rapidly, jumping back and forth between the two of yours.
You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. All of the anger dissipated, sorrow filling your chest instead.
“You let Tommy torment me, you let him say what he did about me and all of his stupid friends,” your voice was fragile, volume moving up and down as your words came out. “You might not have said anything, but that’s the worst part, Steve. You were a bystander during the worst times of my life, and you didn’t. Do. Anything.”
Your finger punched at his chest with every word, emphasizing your point. Steve looked down at the assault of the digit, grabbing it between his fingers at the last word.
His touch burned your skin, a feeling that felt so wrong, but so right at the same time.
“You’re absolutely right,” Steve agreed with you, fingers holding your hand tightly. “I was—I was terrible. I was a jerk, a coward, if you will.”
Your eyes looked up into his at his words, hearing him out.
“I’m not friends with him anymore. I met Nancy all that time ago, and things changed for me,” he continued, thumb rubbing circles over the skin. Your heartbeat quickened, glancing down at his movement. “I met Robin, and things only got better. That perception you have of me is so different. So, so different than me now.”
He left go of your hand, watching as it dropped to your side. Steve was only inches away from you, the left over tobacco scent mixing with the detergent of his clothes.
A single tear streamed down your face, your hand shooting up to wipe it away. His gaze softened, shaking his head at you.
“It appears King Steve has dropped his crown,” he muttered, earning a small laugh out of you. You dropped your head, stepping back as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.
Steve’s laugh followed your own, chuckling low as yours picked up. The two of you stood there laughing at each other, an ache in your side forming as you realized the ridiculous situation you were in.
You both quieted down, staring at each other as the moonlight filled the sky above you. The buzzing of the porch light filled the air.
Steve’s eyes were huge in this lighting, his long lashes curled up towards his brows. The small pout of his lips were wet from his tongue darting out, licking at the skin. Moles dotted his skin, cheeks full as joy crossed his features.
You could see him in this light, for who he truly was. That asshole image may have lingered in the back of your mind, but you could see that he was truthful in his speech.
“I may miss him, you know,” you said, looking at your feet as the words came out. “King Steve.”
You glanced up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes were dark again, mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Oh?” You couldn’t pull the emotion off of his face, a mask placed over it.
You nodded, continuing, “I never got to know him the way most people did.”
Smirking at your words, you turned towards the house and walked up towards the sliding glass door. You didn’t bother looking back at him, opening up the glass as you stepped through muttering a goodnight as you entered the house.
It was dark in there, the only light illuminating was the one hanging over the staircase. The image of the look on Steve’s face burned in your mind, how his dark eyes reflected the moonlight. As you trekked up the stairs on your way to meet Robin, you couldn’t help but think that you took things too far at the end. You’ve hated him all this time, why all of a sudden did you want to mess with his head about the idea of King Steve ?
Reaching the end of the hall, your hand reached for the doorknob, stopping in its place as you heard footsteps running up the stairs, fast in their pace.
Your brow furrowed, turning towards that direction as you watch Steve ascend the stairs, turning the corner to the hall in your direction. He was slightly out of breath, colored in the cheeks.
“You want to?” He blurted out, fast paced with his words. You were confused.
“Huh?”
He was crossing the distance to you, eyes determined on yours. Your hand was still placed on the doorknob, grip loose.
“Harrington, what are you talking ab-”
Your words were cut off as Steve closed the distance, crashing his mouth into yours. His hands came up to rest on the sides of your face as your eyes shot open in surprise at the intrusion. Your hand left the doorknob, resting at his chest to push him away.
“What the hell was that,” you exclaimed, finger digging in his chest. Smiling at you, his hands still present on your cheeks as he tugged at his bottom lip.
He made a shushing motion with his lips, stepping closer to place his mouth on yours again. You didn’t protest, fluttering your eyes shut as his mouth began to move into yours, molding into the perfect shape.
His mouth was soft, tongue darting out to lick between your lips, an urgency as you were pulled into him. One of his hands left your face, finding your waist to press his torso into yours. Huffing, the firmness of his body against yours left you breathless as you leaned up into the kiss.
He pulled away, placing two quick pecks to yours before placing a step back. The absence of his hands on your body left a chill throughout your spine. Eyes glazed over, you blinked at him, tongue running over the feeling of him on your lips.
Steve was smug, hands on his hips as he smiled at you. Your mouth flapped open and close, not finding the words to say to him in that moment. You should be repulsed at him, that was your first thought, but you couldn’t be bothered.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” Your fingers came to brush at your mouth, looking anywhere but him. It was the first time you had been shy around him. You were starting to understand the Harrington Effect.
“You don’t need to,” he rushed, crossing the distance to you one last time to crash his mouth into yours.
He pulled you into him simultaneously pushing you into the wall next to the doors of his parents room. Your body hit it with a full yet loud thud, not caring about waking Robin in the moment.
Your mouth moved in sync with Steve’s, hands coming up to mess up its perfect style and leg curling up to rest at his upper thigh. He moaned into your mouth as his hands gripped your ass, pulling your hips into his.
This is wrong, you found yourself thinking as Steve pulled away to mouth at your neck. He sucked bruises into the delicate skin, fingers digging into your flesh. Your hands roamed free, wildly pulling at his belt his teeth grazed your earlobe.
His bulge ground into the fabric of your jean shorts, leaving you breathless as you fumbled with his buckle.
“S-Steve,” you panted into his hair, arching into his grasp.
You felt the smug fuck smile at your neck, breath sending a chill down your spine. “So needy, baby.”
The nickname had you mewling, panting even further as once of his hands came to help with you the buckle. He freed himself, leather straps hanging at his waist as he unbutton the jeans, pulling the zipper down.
Your hand reached inside, grabbing his heavy cock. You both gasped at the feeling, Steve throwing his head back at the sensation of you tugging at him under his pants. The sounds echoing through the air were filthy—Steve groaning, the wet slickness of your hand on his cock, your dirty words of affirmation flowing out of your mouth.
His hand came to rub at you through your shorts, the thick material making you see stars. Your own head hit the wall, the thud louder than before.
“Shhh baby,” he muttered, pushing them to the side as his fingers brushed over your clothed opening. He smirked at you, low groan escaping his mouth as you were already dripping wet. You huffed, squeezing at the base of his cock in retaliation, feeling the way his hips jutted out.
“C-can’t wake Robin,” he gasped, hips moving rhythmically in sync with your strokes. His head was dripping wet, the inside fabric of his underwear soaking it up.
You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, the thick jean and thin material of your underwear pushed to the side. They brushed your folds, collecting slick as he applied pressure to the sensitive bud.
“Need you, Steve, fuck,” your face was twisted in pleasure, core throbbing as he continued to tease you. The look on his face let you know he was falling apart at your touch too, brow furrowed as his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth.
He removed himself from you, tucking the exposed part back into his pants. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you down the hall, leading to an open door. He pushed you inside, shutting it behind him as he pushed you down on the bed.
You bounced, half smiling as you rid yourself of your shirt, throwing it across the room. The jeans shorts followed, leaving you exposed in your bra and panties.
Steve stood at the end of the bed, gaze roaming over your figure as that familiar dark look took over his features.
“The things you’re doing to me,” he breathed, crossing his arms at his waist as he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, littered with hair at the top, made a rush of heat go straight to your core.
Your eyes followed his hands, watching as they pulled down his jeans, still unbuttoned from the hallway. His boner pushed at the front of his boxers, wet patch present as the material tented.
His eyes followed your eyeline, smirking at you as he saw your legs subconsciously opening wider. Your hand came down to rub between your legs, the panties becoming stickier with each passing moment.
“You want me to show you, baby?” His voice was taunting, leaning over the bed to make his slow crawl over your body. You nodded, eyes big with desire as you felt his heat over you. “Say it.”
“I-I want you t-to show me, Steve,” you moaned, free hand reaching up to grab at his neck. He stopped its movement, hand loose at the wrist as he sucked his teeth.
"Ah ah ah, say it again." His low voice had you falling apart, wetness pooling between your thighs.
"I want you to show me, Steve." Clearer this time, you arched into him spreading your legs so he lay between. He smirked and let go, leaning down to briefly kiss your lips before making his way down your neck.
The urgency you felt in your body contradicted his slow, languid movements. You felt the admiration in his movements, teeth nipping at your skin lightly, his tongue soothing over the marks. He made his way down, kissing over what seemed like every inch of you.
As he spread your legs, he maintained eye contact with you, hair falling into his eyes. His fingers rested at the waistband of your panties, mouth pressing light kisses over your clit. The fabric was thin enough to feel the heat of your breath, and it had you mewling.
"You're so beautiful, Yn," he whispered as he pulled the piece of fabric off of you. Your hand reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, leaning up on your elbows so you could get sight of him.
His tongue darted out, licking at your clit as you exhaled deeply. Your hips jutted out, trying to feel the full heat of his mouth as his tongue gave you tiny licks, teasing you. Steve's smirk grew, arm resting at your waist to hold you down.
"'M just getting started, my love."
He began to suck at you, tongue dipping in and out of your folds as one of his fingers found your entrance, pushing in. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, moaning at the taste of you.
It was heaven watching him. Seeing the way his face was pushed into you, fingers moving in and out of you with a fever. They curled inside of you, toying at the bundle of nerves deep in your walls. Clenching around him, your hips began to stutter, the weight of his arm adding a pressure that made your head feel light.
Bliss approached you, slowly then all at once. You swore you blacked out for a moment, vision going white as he licked you through the pleasure. Your breath was fast, chest heaving as that familiar over stimulation worked its way through your thighs.
Steve pulled away, satisfied with your unraveling. He licked the taste of you off of his lips, rising to his knees as he pulled his boxers down. His cock sprung free, dark red at the head as it dripped in desperation.
His hand came to stroke himself, squeezing small drops of precum out of the head.
"Steve," you groaned, hand reaching to grab at him. His hips angled towards your reach, he groaned as you made contact. You gave him short strokes, focusing your attention at the head.
"You wanna give me a little taste, sweetheart?" His sweet words of affirmation had you soaked with anticipation once again, a nod coming in reply. You repositioned yourself, lying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows as you licked at his head.
A low groan escaped him, hand coming to rest at the back of your head. You took him in your mouth, lips stretching over his girth as you opened up for him.
His hand pushed on your head, forcing down some of the length that you felt shy in taking. You sucked at him, looking up at him falling apart with small thrusts of his hips into your mouth. His head was angled to the side, eyes closed as you saw them move behind his lids. His mouth was open, free hand gripping at the roots of his hair.
He looked beautiful in this light, chest glistening as a sheen of sweat covered him. His hand guided your mouth, feeling the suction of your lips over his shaft. The way his hips stuttered into you had you choking, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.
"M not gonna last, baby," he muttered, removing himself as you looked up at him. Steve glanced down at himself, seeing the way his cock shone with the glistening of your spit.
His eyes rolled, teeth digging into his bottom lip at the sight. You understood the feeling, the both of you being so turned on, it fucking hurt.
"Turn around for me." Rising to your hands and knees, you positioned yourself, arching your back. Blind to his movements, you heard him shuffle behind you, warm hands gripping at your waist that sent a shock to your spine.
His cock nudged at your entrance, a burn coming as he stretched you open. A high moan escaped your lips, hips running from the intrusion. His hands pulled you right back, cock pushing in even further.
"Shh, baby," he whispered, running his hand up your spine to soothe you. "It'll be okay."
You nodded, looking back over your shoulder at him admiring the way you stretched over him. As he pushed in further, the stretch burned even more. The pain was soothed away by the rubbing of his hands and the words of encouragement he gave you.
"'S okay," he muttered, pushing to the hilt. "I'm right here, baby."
Your knuckles were shaking as you gripped the sheets below you. Your eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping your lips.
"All right here, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you." His hips reared back before pressing in again, your back arching as pleasure flowed through your body.
"Steve, fuck," you moaned his name, feeling the way he pushed into you over and over, movements slow. He grabbed onto your hips, fucking into you as the sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room.
"You're taking it so good, my love."
His words had you gasping, hips shooting back to meet his movements half way. Seeing the effort you gave him back, his thrusts became faster, fucking into you with a passion.
Steve's words continued praising you, I love to see you falling apart and feels good, baby? and take it, you love my dick so much. You were panting his name, the only word you could focus on.
That pleasure arched up your spine once more, legs shaking with the promise of release. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, falling to the bed as Steve followed you to it. His large stature hung over your body, fucking you through your high.
You couldn't help, but press your face into the mattress, pleasure rippling through you as his movements quickened. You felt him approaching his own high as his words became short, breath raising a pitch.
"F-fuck, Yn," his voice was even an octave higher, face pressing in between your shoulder blades. His thrusts were irregular, slamming into you as the entire bed rocked. "Gon-gonna cum, baby, f-fuck, you did so well."
He released into you, pressing deep as you felt him fill you up. The warmness of his cum made you moan again, the thick liquid threatening to spill out the sides of his cock deep within you.
"Such a good job," he whispered to you before pulling out, collapsing next to you. He lay on his back, hand reaching out to rest at the small of your back.
You turned your head towards him, blinking slow as you took in the mess of the man. His hair was sticking to his face, cheeks red, and wetness around his mouth. He stared back at you, smirk ever present.
"I still hate you, Harrington," you whispered to him, noticing the way your legs felt numb. Sensing the irony in your words, you felt him leak out of you. A grimace crossed your face.
He laughed out loud, winking at you. He leaned to press a kiss to your nose, watching the way it crinkled under his touch.
"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."
You hid your smile in the sheets, rolling your eyes shut. Happiness warmed your body, the lingering effects of your orgasm. A gnawing feeling came to your heart, chest pounding for a different reason. You had fallen for it, the typical Harrington charm. At that moment, you tried not to tell yourself that things may be different, thinking of his words earlier.
He was different than before, however, the thoughts of King Steve still plagued your mind. This couldn't end well, Steve doesn't end well. You opened your eyes, finding him still staring at you.
"You know, I meant what I said, right?" He asked you, seemingly reading your mind. You blinked at him, ready to push that hard exterior forward. "I am different than I was."
Warmth filled your chest, hope bubbling at the surface.
"I don't know if I believe you," you whispered, voice sounding small in the big room. He pressed his lips together, mouth dropping at the corner.
"Let me show you," he replied, hand coming to brush the hair behind your ear. "Let me do that at least."
Hesitation came over you, silence filling the air between you. A few moments passed as he searched your eyes for any sign of emotion. It was like you had an angel and devil on each shoulder, warning you yet jumping for joy at the same time.
You slowly nodded, a sigh escaping your lips. Steve beamed at you, eyes squinting with the smile.
"I swear, Harrington, if you do anything to fuck me over, I will murder you," you shook your head, not believing you'd give him a chance. He leaned over again, pressing another kiss to your lips this time. His smile was contagious, you fought it back.
"Is that a promise?"
masterlist. requests and inbox are open.
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sanegreen · 2 years
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it's just me and my very specific romantic scenarios against the whole world
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guinevereslancelot · 2 years
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my favorite ship dynamic is betrayal. not when they betray each other but when one or both of them turn against their cause, their principles and/or loved ones for the other. bonus points if the person they're abandoning everything for didn't remotely expect it. ultimate declaration of love. "you mean more to me than everything i ever believed in. i am more loyal to you than my conscience. i love you more than the thing i would die for."
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jkslipppiercing · 3 months
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Never Been A Friend | Part 1 | Jeon Jk
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♧ synopsis: Sneaky glances across the room weighed with a dozen different meanings left to be unsaid; confusion, desire, lust. He was never a friend, was he?
♧ pairing: brother's bsf!jk, bratty!reader.
♧ warnings: y/n is too drunk to form a sentence, jungkook loves cursing, jungkook is jealous out of his mind, kinda enemies but not really, jungkook calls y/n a brat that he cant stand, someone calls y/n a slut, and that's all i can remember 😙
♧ WC: 1.6K
♧ a/n: hello loves! wrote this in one sitting and it's barely edited, but the intention is there lmao i love you all so much please enjoy! dont hesitate to tell me what you think <3 im like the no.1 supporter for constructive criticism lol okay thank you byeeeee
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JK's POV
She whines,
Throws tantrums,
Acts like a goddamn brat for the sake of being annoying,
And I still want her lips around my cock.
Why?
That goes beyond the fucking level of my emotional understanding.
I want her wrapped around my finger. I want her to get on her fucking knees and apologize for all the turbulent feelings she makes me suffer by.
She ruined my night.
I was fucking.
Blowing a girl's back just to lay off some steam. Get the stress of the college life off my shoulders.
But then, she just had to cock-block me.
My best friend’s sister.
Speaking of the twat, he dared to interrupt my one night stand for the sake of his bratty sister.
Usually, I love brats.
My type.
They make sex enjoyable. All the more pleasurable when they try to resist.
Keyword: try.
Because I know for a damn straight fact when a girl wants to be disciplined.
Fucked right and put in her place.
Reminds me of her. Y/L/N Y/N.
Except for one thing, though- she makes my fucking insides churn in all uncomfortable ways.
She doesn’t have a bratty attitude, the bitch has a bratty personality.
Yes, she is indeed a bitch. I can't stand a girl who's always annoying just because she feels like it. She'd never had a valid reason to hate me, and neither did I.
When I first met her, I mean.
She was laughing with her brother having breakfast one time when I came out of my room for painkillers and a glass of water.
Her brother and I were both freshmen in need of a dorm, and we agreed on splitting the rent once in a frat party.
Yes... we were both strangers to each other, but we clicked.
Met through mutuals, and our vibes matched. After living with each other for over six months now, we've grown pretty close.
He's cool, agreed on basic rules like who does the laundry or dishes, helped with assignments, and was always there when needed.
He's a friend. A close one.
A tolerable one.
That can't be said about a certain someone, though.
She scowled at me that day and later told me she didn't like my vibe when I confronted her about it.
Bullshit.
And yet, she's the reason I left a naked girl in my bed and came to this godforsaken club in the first place.
Her brother is here, too, which is why he called me to come pick her up. Said something about her being drunk, and since he had taken a shot or two as well, he couldn't take her home himself.
Or he just didn't want to, because he was also getting laid tonight.
That's proven to be right when I see him making out with a girl near the bathrooms.
His hands grope her all over as she arches into him, which is enough to make me look away.
Sly motherfucker.
Casting my vision toward the main dance floor, I scan the crowd for a short brunette with soft features.
Annoyingly soft features.
So soft that I want to corrupt her. Tear the bratty exterior and dig through the filthy dark side on the inside.
But those features aren't the only things that infuriate the hell out of me.
It's her innocence.
How can a brat be innocent, you may ask?
When my gaze lands on her, my jaw tenses in annoyance.
She sways her hips sensually, eyes closed and mouth open as she slides her hands down her body to a seductive beat following her movements.
I follow the action, eyes unable to tear away from her figure.
Her fingers skim over her neck down to her breasts and then further, the lightness she seems to be handling her body with attending to a grace she always breathed by.
Fuck, I hate this woman.
Hate everything about her.
How she moves.
How she walks.
How she fucking talks.
Runs her mouth like a brat who needs to be handled.
No- not like- is.
She is a brat.
A brat who's oblivious to all the eyes she's attracting.
Including mine.
Fuck.
Her dancing resumes as her eyes stay closed, feeling every beat.
She's enjoying herself.
Not for long.
I school my expression- which had turned into a scowl the moment I set my eyes on her- and begin my stride towards her.
I spot a man doing the same, but she's absolutely mind-numb as she continues to dance with her damn eyes closed.
I was irritated, but now I'm literally fed up.
He's a couple inches shorter than me, wearing a white tee and skinny ripped jeans.
Not to mention, his hair is slicked back by a disgusting amount of hair gel.
Ew.
He approaches Y/N with predatory eyes and a shit eating grin, his gaze set straight on her perky ass.
Which is just barely covered by the tight little dress she's wearing, inching higher and higher up her thighs as we speak.
My steps quicken when I see him reach out, apparently intending to slap her ass.
My blood boils.
White noise drowns out all available access to the outside world as I break out into a jog and reach her just in time.
My hand swiftly slides onto her tiny waist, and I glare at the man whose shit-eating grin is now gone, replaced with confusion.
Y/N's eyes stay closed as she giggles, and it's now I notice how drunk she is.
Bright crimson tints her cheeks and her breath smells of strong tequila, obviously from having taken too many shots.
Isn't she here with friends?
How could they leave her alone like this?
Her brother's here. Her brother is here.
My breath turns heavy, my heartbeat quickening. I have to stop myself from punching the douchebag in front of me into fucking oblivion because I don't know if i'll ever stop once I start.
Fuck.
I try to focus on anything besides her frame that's barely hanging onto me, all the exhaustion from her dancing catching up to her as she fights to keep her eyes open.
Why the fuck is she here all alone? Why did they- whoever she's here with, except her brother- leave her here like this?
Like she's not even aware of where she is.
Like she's not sober enough to be responsible.
Like she's not fucking strong enough to defend herself if anything happened to her.
I might punch a wall.
My grip tightens around her waist, which makes her drowsily lift her head to stare up at me.
She's still shorter than me with heels on, enough to put her neck in an uncomfortable position whenever she looks up at me.
It's adorable.
But that's none of my concerns as the slimy fuck keeps undressing her with his eyes. Makes me want to claw them out with my bare hands.
Repress.
"Wha..." She starts, growing more and more confused as she tries to wrap her head around where the hell she is. "Jungkook? What are you..."
She trails off into a mindfuck, allowing me to set my full focus on the man still staring between us with wariness.
My gaze hasn't worn off him since I saw him fucking reach for her ass, which makes me want to bash his head against the wall.
My breathing turns heavy again.
Repress.
"Off-limits." I bite out with enough to control to shock myself. I'm even more surprised that this motherfucker is still breathing.
His eyes thin into slits as he eyes me suspiciously. "I haven't seen you here the last couple of hours. Thought her sexy ass came alone." His eyes skim over her body, gaze lingering longer than necessary on her breasts.
Guess someone's leaving with no limbs tonight.
"You thought wrong." It takes almost all the last bits of my control to reply with that before I start turning around to leave, Y/N almost falling asleep on my arm.
She clutches the hem of my shirt with a weak grip, like a toddler would its mom.
If I couldn't get here in time, what would've happened?
I catch myself before I overthink it. If I did, I'm afraid I might commit a crime tonight. One of shameless blood and murder-
Repress.
My back is turned to him when I hear a low whistle, which makes me pause, angry enough for my limbs to shake with adrenaline.
"You know, It's often rare for a slut with such a sweet ass to be out here all alone wearing that. Almost like she's begging for a cock-"
The words are barely out of his mouth before my fist connects with his face. The force of my blow got him on the floor, nose fucked and bleeding. Might be broken.
Good. Bare minimum.
I almost straddle him and punch him to his fucking fortunate death.
Almost.
But I have to get Y/N home.
I can't stand this anymore.
I can't stand her anymore.
Coming here alone? Dressed like that?
I mean yes, she did come here with her idiot brother who thinks with his dick, but he's nowhere to be found.
How can someone be so nonchalant to just leave his sister here all alone?
I'm so goddamn confused.
And infuriated.
And...angry.
Fucking fuck.
I need to get her the fuck out of here before i lose my fucking mind.
Fuck me.
The punch I just delivered did little to satiate my thirst for this slimy fucker's blood.
But again, Y/N's more important.
I turn, my panic spiking so high it reaches levels it had never before when I find Y/N out of my sight.
My breathing starts to go abnormal for the nth time this night.
I might develop heart problems.
A sigh leaves my mouth when I spot her by the bars, trying to convince the bartender to give her another shot. Relief floods my system, and my breaths regulate.
I send a quick text the girl- who i already forgot the name of- and tell her to head home. She sends a crying emoji back but agrees nonetheless, telling me to call her back when everything is sorted out on my end.
I have other things to care for.
Or I guess, in this case, a certain person to tend to.
God, It's gonna be a long night.
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noramsblog · 2 months
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Love at first yell
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meep-meep-richie · 7 months
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This edit is living in my head rent free
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pedropascll · 1 year
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Enemies to lovers won my last poll so let’s see how this goes…Reblog for a larger sample size 🫶
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nadvs · 1 month
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both sinners (part one)
pairing drugdealer! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug use
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summary as a stripper, you’re well aware that someone you know could walk into the club at any moment. when rafe is your newest customer, you’re actually glad to see a familiar face.
{ masterlist }
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
The room is humid. The pole is smooth. The music is throbbing. And the seats are filling up fast. It’s a typical Saturday night at the club.
You just stepped out on the stage, circling the pole, taking slow, seductive steps in your stilettos.
A polished ‘reserved’ name plate sits on table in the booth right in front of you. You’ll start your routine and get undressed when the people who claimed that booth come in.
You’ve only been stripping for a few months, but you know well enough by now that it’s not worth putting your best show on until the reserved booths are full. Those customers are the most generous with their tips.
Moments later, in the pink and purple lights shimmering over the large club, you can make out the shadowed figures of three men piling into the booth.
You hook your leg around the pole and gyrate while they get seated, ready to start your show.
Rafe settles in the cushioned booth and is immediately captivated by you. You’re so smooth with every slow roll of your hips.
He glances around, seeing the other dancers, but there’s something about you that’s magnetic. It’s like his eyes will only allow him to look at you.
You’re in a sheer skirt and a scant bra; in his opinion, too many clothes are covering your body. He watches while you sensually sway, the lights hitting your planes and curves.
When you arch your back to pull the string holding your bra together, baring your tits, you bra falls to the floor in a bunch. You dip your head back, chest uncovered and so fucking perfect, as you hold yourself up on the pole.
You’re left in nothing but a mini-skirt, lace panties, and six-inch heels.
He’s in awe.
“Dude!” Topper shouts over the music. Rafe looks over at his friend and the waitress leaning over his shoulder. “Drink?”
Rafe realizes they’ve probably been trying to get his attention for a while. He was just too damn distracted by the silhouette on stage.
He laughs, ordering an old fashioned, and turns his attention back to you.
“Acting like you’ve never seen tits before,” Topper chides him, shoving his shoulder and making Kelce crack up.
“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe chuckles.
You hike yourself up on the pole and slowly spread your legs apart, twisting and rolling. Goddamn. He’s already so fucking worked up just from watching you dance a few feet away from him.
You wait until their drinks arrive and let them get a few sips in before you sink to the glossy floor and swing your legs over the stage.
“Hi, boys,” you say over the music, turning on the flirty, confident identity you always take on while on stage. “Having fun?”
“It’s his birthday,” one of them shouts and points to the man in the middle.
“Oh, yeah?” you say with a smile. You slowly drop onto the carpeted floor and start to close the distance between you and the three men.
The way your hips swing is making Rafe’s groin get tighter. He can’t believe this is his first time in a strip club. What the fuck took him so long?
You freeze for a second when you realize you know these guys. Kind of.
Even though you live nowhere near Figure 8, you’ve befriended enough wealthy people on the island to get invited to their extravagant house parties. And you’ve definitely seen these men before.
You know Rafe best out of the three. He sells the purest coke you’ve ever tried and he somehow gets hotter every time you see him. You’ve talked to him maybe twice, buying a couple of grams off of him.
It’ll only be awkward if you make it awkward, so you place your hands on the edge of the table in the middle of the booth and lean forward, arms pressed against your sides to push out your tits.
Rafe’s eyes dip to your naked chest immediately, then back up to your face. He’s met you before. He thought you were hot then, and he thinks you’re hot now.
“I know you,” you tease. He finds it sexy how you’re completely unfazed by this, not embarrassed at all to be half-naked like this in front of them. “Happy birthday.”
His friend, who you’re pretty sure people call Topper, holds out a folded $50 between his fore finger and middle finger to you.
“First dance is on me, man,” Topper slurs, patting Rafe’s chest with his other hand. By the lazy smiles on their faces, you can tell these aren’t their first drinks of the night.
You lick your lips and smile as you take the bill and tuck it in the waistband of your skirt. You know these guys are loaded. You’re going to make a killing tonight.
You look back at the stage, spotting another dancer and cocking your chin to silently gesture to her to join the table and keep the other guys entertained while you focus on Rafe.
You slowly make your way towards him, the erotic, bass-heavy music surrounding you. You typically let your mind drift away while you give a customer a lap dance, but you’re actually attracted to this one.
The sight of your thighs spreading as you kneel down to straddle him makes Rafe’s heart start pounding even harder.
“Hi,” you say with a sweet smile. You settle and hover over him, mostly supporting yourself on your knees, but sitting on his lap just enough to feel his firm thighs beneath you.
You’re a little nervous, which takes you by surprise. This must be what happens when a customer is someone you have a crush on.
His cologne smells crisp and expensive as you put your hands on his broad shoulders, rubbing over the fabric of his t-shirt.
“Hi,” Rafe says with a stunned grin, his dimples deep. You feel his hands settle under your skirt, fingers splayed over your ass. Even though the rules are strict against touching the dancers, and you’re sure he was told that when he arrived, you let him.
It feels so damn good to be wanted like this by him, to have him touch you. Besides, he seems like the type who thinks he’s above the rules anyway, so telling him not to touch you would be a waste of breath.
“How’s your day been?” you coo, palms sliding down to his chest. Rafe’s blue eyes trail from your mouth to your half-naked body, the handsome angles of his face shadowed under the lights.
“Better now,” he says, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You giggle, leaning to speak into his ear.
“They don’t let you touch the dancers here,” you mumble to him, “but I’ll give you a pass tonight.”
You pull back to see him clench his defined jawline as he squeezes harder.
“Yeah?” he rasps, the sharp smell of bourbon on his breath. “How come?”
“It’s my birthday present to you,” you say, starting to writhe on him.
“Bullshit,” he smirks. “It’s ‘cause you want me to touch you.” You can admit to yourself that his ego is kind of charming. And yeah, he’s right. His hands on you do feel good.
You sit up to prop your chest right up to his face. Rafe breathes in the smell of your perfume, revelling in the feeling of your tits inches away from his face.
“Are you always this cocky?” you ask. You rake a hand up the back of his head, his hair soft between your fingers.
“Yeah,” Rafe says simply, his careless shrug adding to his charm. You start to gyrate against him, feeling his firmness in his jeans. You dip your head, your cheek pressed against his as you grind.
“That feels good, huh?” you hum.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice deep as he says your name. “I didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”
Damn. You’re actually getting wet right now. This never happens. This is supposed to be work.
“Now you know,” you reply. Your hand slides down his chest, over his firm stomach, landing at his groin. Damn. He’s big.
“Shit,” he groans. You pull back, seeing Rafe’s drunken smile, and seamlessly sit up to swing your leg off of him, backing up to shake your ass on him.
The way your skirt is bouncing with every recoil makes him feel like he could go crazy. You look back at him to see him digging into his pocket, taking a wad of cash out.
He tucks a bill into the band of your skirt, his bottom lip trapped under his teeth as he watches you lustfully.
The way you shake and sway and bump on his lap is making the tension in him tighten, closer and closer to snapping by the second. It’s not enough. He needs to see you fully naked.
The next time you look at him, Rafe impatiently wags his fingers to beckon you to turn towards him again. You obey and kneel over, your faces only inches apart, your hands on his thighs, your ass in the air.
“You gonna get naked or what?” he mutters impatiently. You’re flattered that he’s so into you.
“I can, here,” you say, eager to upsell, “or we can go up to a private room.”
“Yeah?” he says. “What else can we do in there?”
“Did you come here to talk?” you hear a man shout. You realize Topper’s giving him shit, smiling as one of the other dancers grinds on him.
You honestly like that Rafe is talking to you instead of silently watching you dance for him, but you giggle, trying to keep the atmosphere light and fun.
Rafe doesn’t like you laughing with his friend. Or smiling at him. Or even looking at him.
“Let’s go,” Rafe says resolutely. You turn to gaze at him again, his eyes gleaming in the flickering lights.
“It’s $100 for a room-” you begin, but he interrupts.
“Let’s go,” he repeats. You have a feeling you could tell him any price and he’d agree.
You smile and take Rafe’s hand, leading him upstairs to one of the VIP rooms. A bouncer standing in the top level hallway nods to you and motions to a free room.
“No touching, buddy,” he warns Rafe, who only replies with a mocking nod. This man has no respect for anyone or anything. And he makes it look so sexy.
The small space offers an upholstered booth, a pole, and a table for drinks. The dim red bulb on the ceiling seems to casts more shadows than light, making Rafe annoyed that he won’t be able to see you better.
He settles onto the booth as you shut the door behind you. His legs are spread wide, his cock stretching his jeans out in an impressive bulge.
The music is muffled, but still loud enough to dance to in the private room. You toss the bills that are sitting under your waistband onto the table, then position yourself between his knees to writhe for him as you pull down the zipper on the side of your skirt.
The skirt pools around your heels. Rafe drinks in the vision of your lace panties, the way the fabric hugs your lips. He has never been more turned on.
“Damn…” he groans with a disbelieving scoff, his hands sliding up your thighs. When he runs a thumb up your middle, you tremble.
This feels unreal. You’ve given every other man who merely tried to touch your hand a firm reminder of the rules. But here you are, letting Rafe touch your pussy, loving the feeling.
“I knew you were fine, but shit,” he mutters.
You can’t help but wonder if he was attracted to you before he laid eyes on you tonight, when you were fully dressed at the parties you’ve seen each other at.
Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk as he digs into his pocket to pull out his wallet and a clear baggy of white powder. If you weren’t sure that he couldn’t give less of a fuck about rules before, you are now.
“Want some?” he asks.
“I’m working,” you laugh.
“What’s a little bit gonna do?” Rafe asks, pulling out a credit card. “Lie down.”
Intrigued, you follow his orders, settling on the booth onto your back.
“Stay still,” he mutters. You laugh to yourself in disbelief when you realize he’s setting up a line on your chest, right between your tits. He’s almost too much.
Rafe loves the way the powder looks sitting on your skin. He taps the edge of his credit card against the line of coke, evening it out, before he leans down and snorts through a rolled up bill.
Euphoria hits every one of his senses immediately. His lips are right by yours and he gives into his impulse like he always does, leaning down to kiss you.
He takes you by surprise when he captures your lips in his. You smile beneath his hot mouth, enthralled by his spontaneous passion, feeling him suck on your bottom lip. When he pulls back, he’s smiling.
“You sure you don’t want any?” Rafe asks, pupils blown.
“Fuck it,” you laugh. This night has been crazy enough. “Just a bump.”
You sit up, leaning against the cushion of the booth and you hold out your finger, watching as he carefully tips some coke out of the baggy. You rub it over your gums, purposely sucking your finger as you pop it out of your mouth.
Everything about you is driving Rafe crazy in the best way. You’re so fucking carefree and self-possessed.
He shifts to hang over you, his fingers looping around the band of your panties. Rafe pulls them down your legs and sharply inhales when he sees your bare pussy.
He needs you. A dance isn’t enough.
“I’m supposed to do that part,” you breathe a chuckle.
“How much to fuck you?” He meets your eyes, his hair hanging over his forehead.
“We can’t do that, baby,” you laugh, although you desperately want to. You’d get fired in a second. “Not here.”
“It’s my birthday,” he whines with a heartbreaking grin. He palms his dick in his pants, eyes drifting down your body hungrily. “How much? I’ll give you whatever you want.”
You’ve already broken so many rules, and you would love to fuck him, but the risk of getting caught is just too high. You decide to compromise.
You put him hand on the hard swelling in his pants and rub.
“How about this?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes. “You sit down and I touch you.”
That way, you think, if anyone walks in, your back will be to the door and you can hide what you’re doing, making it look like you’re just giving him another lap dance.
Rafe nods, glad he has the promise of a release, and sits back down where he was before.
You shuffle to straddle him, feeling his hands on your ass again. You unbutton and zip down his jeans and he frantically bucks his hips up and slips them down.
When his cock pops out of his boxers, you nearly gasp at how big it is.
“I got hard the second I saw your tits,” he laughs, feeling drunk and high out of his mind.
“Yeah?” you purr. You spit on your palm then put your hand around his base. He groans, the pressure sending a roll of pleasure through his body.
“Yeah,” Rafe shudders. “You have really nice fucking tits.” Wow. He’s talkative when he’s high. You love it.
His hands move up to capture your breasts, squeezing the flesh.
“How the fuck am I not supposed to touch you? That’s a stupid fucking rule,” he mutters, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples. You shudder, arching your back at the sensation.
“Damn, you like that?” he rasps with a smirk.
“Yeah,” you breathe a laugh. You start to run your hand up and down his cock, arousal pooling in your gut.
“You’re telling me you don’t want this dick inside you?” he teases. You bite your bottom lip and twist your wrist as you stroke him.
“We can’t fuck in here,” you tell him.
“But we can somewhere else?” Rafe asks, tilting his chin towards you so you’ll kiss him again.
The coke is starting to hit your system as your tongue rolls over his, your palm wet against his cock.
“Yeah, we can,” you say shakily when you pull away.
“Shit, you’re good at that,” he grunts, looking down at your hand working him. All you can hear is the muffled music and your combined breathing and the sound of your wet skin rubbing over his.
“Yeah?” you ask.
Rafe’s head is spinning. He takes in the sight of his hands on your perfect tits, the way you’re jerking him off, the smile on your pretty face. All this combined with the liquor and coke rushing through him is fucking paradise.
“You wanna cum on me?” you impulsively ask. He’s still partly dressed, but you’re fully naked. It’d be easier to clean up. And, if you’re being honest, you want to feel his cum on you.
“You really are a bad girl,” Rafe laughs. You meet his eyes. He’s so depraved, but hell, so are you.
You put your other hand on him, rubbing his thick length in a faster rhythm. He rolls his head back as he groans.
“I’m gonna… oh, fuck…” His deep voice unravels into mumbles.
You aim his cock towards you, watching the white ropes of his cum spurt out of him, his body twitching beneath you. The hot liquid splashes over your stomach and your thighs, making you smile in satisfaction.
When he comes down from the high you gave him, he hands you his entire wad of cash.
You didn’t expect your night to take this turn, but it was so much fucking fun. And you have no idea if Rafe will remember any of this. But you hope he does.
{ part two }
author’s note: thank you to this anon for inspiring this fic! title is based on “sinners” by ari abdul and thomas larosa.
if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘
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hazbingirliexoxo · 1 month
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Reader: *talking about their favorite TV show/podcast*
Vox: *smugly* Well it can’t be that popular if I’ve never heard of it
Reader: *mockingly* It’s not for old people🙄🙄
Vox: ….
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months
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thinkin about childhood best friend katsuki (wow shocker) saying he’s “immune” to cooties or he’s “too strong” to get them just to hold your hand and drag you around everywhere because if you’re not at his hip 24/7 there’s a problem.
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d4ydream-girl · 4 months
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the changes rick made in the show make it so exciting for me tbh. like i know the books so well, but im still over here SOBBING BC WHY ARE PERCABETH STARING INTO EACH OTHERS EYES CRYING OVER WHICH ONE OF THEM MIGHT DIE 😭😭??? IM CRYING OVER TWO FICTIONAL 12 YR OLDS HAVING A HEART TO HEART BC THEY WERE ENEMIES BUT NOW THEY THINK ONE OF THEM IS GOING TO FUCKING DIE SO THEYRE NOW THEYVE BECOME EACH OTHERS SUPPORT SYSTEMS 😭😭😭
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gayrobotlover217 · 3 months
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How to make your sad deer better ‼️🩷 after ep8 made me so happy and hyper by it IN SEASON 2 WE NEED MORE 🔥🔥🔥
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