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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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Follow You Anywhere 2

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: slept like crap last night but we got this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Sy is nice enough but you're still put off by your meeting. He carries a bag gallantly to a large black truck and pulls open the back door to place it on the seat. He turns to you to take the next. You hug it, wondering if you should settle for half your load and run for the hills.

Still, you can't help but feel beholden to him. The pin on his hat and the way he looks at you. He just seems a bit oblivious to how unsettling his approach Is.

He takes the bag and you just stare. You feel hollow and your ears are on fire. You just keep going along with this and that voice in your head is screaming at you to stop.

“Here,” he shuts the back door and pulls the passenger's open.

You look at him then into the truck. Are you crazy!? You can't just go with this man in his vehicle…

You grab onto the interior of the door and climb up into the truck. He touches your lower back gently as if to help you. You drop into the seat and thank him, trying not to let your fear bubble over.

He shuts the door and your stomach plummets. Are you being kidnapped? Are you letting yourself be abducted? Oh, you're gonna end up on a podcast.

He gets in the driver's side as you sink into the horror movie unfolding in your head. You look over at him as he unfolds a pair of dark sunglasses and puts them on to block out the sun's glare. He's so calm it's frightening. He knows exactly what's coming and you can't even begin to imagine the sheer terror awaiting you.

Maybe a nice basement cell. Worse, a field and a hole six feet deep. Your heart feels like it's stopped. Your vision is hazy and your ears are ringing.

The truck rolls backwards and lurches you back to reality. You blink and look over the hood. Sy pulls out of the spot smoothly and cranks the wheel to straighten out.

“Y'okay, sweetie?” He asks as he comes to the exit.

“Mmm, yeah,” you eke out as you grip the inside of the door. “I'm all good I just… I never expected to meet a follower.”

“Yeah, I uh… you know, I only ever dreamed it. Being over there, the days… well you don't know if you'll see the next, or even the night,” he lets out a deep breath, “I didn't put real thought into it til I got back and… it's so fu– so, er, lonely, you know? You're the only thing that was the same.”

“Oh,” your cheeks twitch as you attempt a smile, “that's very sweet. I… you know, I kinda just do the streams to get my thoughts out, it's not really… I don't know.”

“I like it. It's peaceful,” he drives down the street as the passing buildings spike your concern. “Don't get much of that.”

“Sure, I… I can imagine.”

“Hey, if it means keeping sweet things like you safe, I'll do it,” he chuckles.

Before you can respond, he slams on the breaks and his tires skid. A car in front of him flashes their tail light. He snarls and you watch the fury furrow above his brows.

“You fu–” his booming voice catches and he bites down on his words, growling instead. “Ugh,” he exhales, “that guy… coulda got hurt…”

“Yeah,” you clasp your hands together.

"Or he coulda hurt us!" He throws a hand up.

“That was close," you mewl, "but we're okay, right?”

He inhales and looks at you. He closes his eyes and nods, “you're right, sweetie.”

You bite down, fighting not to show your fear. There's something in him that threatens to boil over. You can see it in the vein popping out along his forehead.

“So, I know a place, they got good bacon, probably some good french toast,” he leans on the pedal again, “get some whip cream on top?”

“Well, I appreciate it but I really should get home,” you say gently, “but maybe another time–”

“It's my treat, sweetie,” he insists, “it's been a long time since I got to sit down to eat with a pretty girl.”

“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don't want to push him. You know the tenuous tightrope walk. Just do what he wants, keep him happy.

“I didn't say… you look real nice today. That's my favourite of yours,” he keeps one hand on the wheel and points towards you, “the overalls.”

“Thank you,” you murmur and twist your fingers, letting out a rocky chuckle.

“So cute when you do that,” he rumbles and rests his hand on the corner of your seat, “that lil laugh.”

“Um, yeah, sorry, I… it's a habit.”

“Nah, I like it,” he assures you and rescinds his hand to flip his signal on.

He turns into another plaza and you see the bright painted sign above a diner. A white cup on a teal banner. You've never been there but you pass it on the bus. He pulls up right at the front of the lot before the windows. You can see people inside as waitress carry trays between tables.

“I don't know about you but I'm starving,” he drawls and undoes his seat belt.

You sit in the seat, paralysed and helpless. He comes around your side and you click the button on your own belt. You turn and he offers his hand to help you get down. When you ignore it, he grabs your arm to ease your landing.

He swings the door shut and you shuffle past him. You have no choice but to keep going. Get through this and you'll go home and block him. Maybe even delete your whole account.

He reaches around you as you come up to the door and pulls it open. Be sweeps you inside with his arm and follows you through. A waitress in a black blouse greets you and you look to Sy over your shoulder.

“Table, thank you,” he says.

She leads you to a table for two and you sit, arms crossed as you rock nervously. He orders coffee as he slides off his sunglasses and the waitress turns to you. You push yourself straight.

“Um, chocolate milk, please,” you request.

“Right away, hon,” she leaves you with the menus as you unfold your arms and pick at your thumbnail.

“So cute, chocolate milk,” he comments as he takes the laminated menu from the table, “oh, look,” he flicks it, “French toast. Can get berries with it.”

You look down and lean forward to see past the sheen of the plastic sheath. You narrow in on the French toast but your stomach rolls. You're too nervous to be hungry.

“Yeah, looks good,” you say, “um, I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Sure,” he smiles as he browses the menu.

You get up, wobbling slightly before you get your balance. You search for the sign to the restrooms and head down the short hall behind the kitchen. You dip inside and lock yourself in a stall.

You really can't afford to abandon your groceries. Worse, you don't dare anger him. He's nice but you don't know how nice he'd be if you ran out on him. Just get yourself together, it's just breakfast. You'll get through it then try to forget your stupidity.

You should've known better but you didn't have enough followers to worry it never even occurred to you but it should be. It's your own fault.

You take a few minutes to mellow out. You don't quite get there but the longer you stay, the longer he has to get suspicious. No, you're not going to run. You don't think you'll get very far.

You come back out and return to the table. As you sit, he sips his coffee and his eyes crinkle at you. Your chocolate milk is waiting beside a wrapped straw. As you tear through the paper, you sense him watching you.

He clinks his cup down, "ordered your french toast. Extra sugar... since you're so sweet."

You issue a brittle chuckle. You stare at him. He's taken his cap off, revealing a shaved head above his thick beard. His shoulders are broad, all of him is. He's so thick and his arms are bulging with muscle beneath his tee shirt. His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue, a contrast to the rest of his rough exterior.

"You don't gotta be shy," his voice gristle in his throat as he leans forward, elbows on the table. "What do ya wanna know?"

"Pardon?" You croak.

"Well, I know everything about you," he grins, "you barely know me."

You gulp, wavering like you've been knocked upside the head. You part your lips and peer around. His self-awareness if almost there but not quite.

"I..." you don't know what to say or ask or do. He toys with the handle of his coffee cup. "What do you take.... in your, uh, coffee?"

He chuckles, "really? Why's that? You planning to bring me coffee in the mornings?"

You meet his eyes again and he winks. You giggle and move your lips like a gasping fish.

"Teasing, ya, sweetie, I don't wanna rush you," he says, "I take it black, but I don't mind some cream on Sundays."

You nod, embarrassed, and poke your straw into your cup, leaning forward to slurp up the chocolate milk. His eyes linger on your lips as you do. You pull back and take a napkin to wipe your mouth.

"Erm... well, what... how did you... find my page?"

He sits back, gripping the edges of the table as he sighs, "I was just scrolling around but I'm starting to think it's something bigger than us, you know? I was goin' through it. I needed something and there you were, showin' off those new boots you got with the flower."

Flowers? You got those boots over a year ago. You remember that stream. He's been watching you that long.

"Oh, ha, right," you murmur.

"There aren't many people out there like you left, you know? I've seen the worst in people but in you, I saw the best," he explains, "the way you just take everything in. Looking at the flowers and the birds and... you just know how to appreciate life."

You smile and nod. What else can you do as the world crashes down? He was there yesterday. That blurry figure behind you in the photo, the shadow creeping just beyond your sight. You don't doubt it was him.

“I try, er…”

You sit back as the waitress approaches. She puts a plate before you, French toast with a side of fruit salad, sugar and whip on top of the bread. She lays down Sy's plate, mounded in eggs, home fries, sausage, and two types of bacon, with rye toast. You would guess that is just barely enough to fill him up.

“Dig in,” he says as he grabs his cutlery.

You sit forward and take your fork and knife. You cut into the eggy bread and stab the small triangle of the corner. As you raise your fork, Sy growls, “get some cream too, sweetie.”

You flinch but do as he says. You swipe the bread through the dolloped cream and shove it through your lips. You stare at your plate as you chew. You wish he wouldn't watch you. You don't like eating in front of others.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“Very,” you swallow and cover your mouth.

“Don't worry, I think it's cute you got cream on your lips,” he plucks up a piece of bacon with his fingers, “didn't get good fixings like this in the sh– over there,” he bites into the strip and chews.

“Yeah, I wouldn't think…” you twirl your fork nervously, “do you have to go back?”

“Mmm, not anytime soon. They're tryna get me on a desk,” he shrugs, “might be a good change but I don't know if I'm suited to it…” he tosses back the rest of the bacon, chewing thoughtfully, “but I'm about that age. Gotta settle down, so I figure, makes sense.”

“Right, right, yeah, fair,” you garble mindlessly.

“Besides, when you got someone at home, you don't wanna run back into the bull– into war,” he smirks.

You take another bite, even as your stomach churns. You don't like how he's talking, as if you're together. As if he knows you. It's strange.

He scoops up a forkful of home fries and shovels them back. You can't fault his table manners, he was probably eating out of cans for the last few years. Not that you would say anything. You're much too scared for that.

You fall into a trance, focusing on the simple task of cutting into the toast, chewing but not tasting as your heart tamps behind your ears. You sense a shift and look up, your cheeks full of food as you make eye contact with Sy’s phone camera. You swallow painfully and nearly choke.

“What are you doing?” You squeak.

“For your Instagram,” he smiles, “I’ll send you the pics…” he frames his phone with both hands as he admires the screen, “you look so cute.”

You shudder and grip the knife and fork tight. You look back to the stack. You think you’ll ask for it to go. If you eat any more, you’re definitely going to be sick.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sandcastle #follow you anywhere

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greenorangevioletgrass · 27 days

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fever pitch (b.b.) - part three

previous part | series masterlist

soundtrack: don't blame me - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and bradley spend the night, but the road to heaven is full of obstacles; some are external, others are self-inflicted. warnings: language, public scrutiny (will be a recurring theme in this fic ha!), bradley is a stand-up guy all round, fluff, smut (d/s elements, praise kink, bit of a bratty side?, fingering, oral [f receiving], dirty talk, size kink, bradley is PACKING, protected sex) notes: i'm back! life has been crazy since i posted the previous chapter, but i just wanna say thank you so so much for your patience and your kind words about the fic so far! big shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse and @teacupsandtopgun for being absolutely GEMS in brainstorming ideas-- this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for y'all <3 happy reading!

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The Langham, Sterling Suite. Ask for Holly Golightly ;)

Bradley smiles at your text, and the cheeky “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” reference. He shoots up a quick reply as he makes his way out to the lobby, fighting hard not to be grinning like an idiot to any unassuming passersby, until—

Click-click-click-click! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

“Hey, it’s Bradley Bradshaw!”

“Oi, Bradley! Give us a smile, mate!”

“Bradley, did you get to meet Y/N inside?”

“Did the boss let you out on a school night, Bradley?”

”How are you feeling about the Sunderland game this weekend?”

It’s a meager distance from the steps of Annabel’s to the curb where the valet has brought out his car, but holy shit. It doesn’t usually get nearly as crazy as this. He’s partied here with Harry Styles, and nobody bat an eye when the guy stumbled out drunk with his left tit out. But maybe it’s because Harry lives in London sometimes, or maybe because he was on a break… unlike Miss Americana on her world tour right now. It makes him pause and rethink how careful he needs to be.

Bradley gets into his car and drives off, trying to tread between the fine line of quick and careful. He can’t help but look over the rearview mirror more often than normal. Fuck, is this how you feel like all the time? He’s no stranger to the spotlight, but rather than the occasional run-ins, nobody has ever been interested in where he went to dinner on a random Tuesday night.

The Langham is barely a mile away, but Bradley sees photographers parked across the hotel with their long-lens cameras and disgusting disposition, and he keeps on driving. Thinking. Restrategizing. Hoping that his vintage aubergine Ferrari isn’t causing suspicion for driving by the second and third time.

He finds a basement parking lot behind the building and pulls up, hoping it’s the right entrance to the hotel. The attendant looks starstruck as he nods and points the way, sending him off with an eager ‘Come on you Gunners!’. And just like that, he makes it into the lobby out of the pap’s sight.

Be cool, he reminds himself, you’re only as suspicious as you seem to be. He comes up to the reception desk, and the girl behind it greets him warmly.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Langham. How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Ms. Golightly at the Sterling Suite,” Bradley says smoothly. “Holly Golightly.”

“And who am I speaking with, sir?” The girl looks at him like he seems familiar, but can’t quite place him.

“...Paul Varjak,” he states, unable to bite back the smile. Oh, the thrill of giving out a fake name with the very real possibility of getting called out on his shit.

But she nods and grabs the telephone, dialing into your room. Blissfully ignorant of the pseudonym he just gave her.

Good.

Let this inside joke be the two of yours alone.

The elevator ride up is peaceful—too peaceful that he can hear his heart beating and his palms sweating. Even the carpet mutes his footsteps towards the double door. Before he even presses the bell, a bodyguard opens the door for him.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” he nods curtly. It’s one of the guys from the restaurant earlier. Middle-aged, stout and rather short, sporting a permanent scowl and a vibe that indicates he’s seen some shit.

“Hi. Sorry, I haven’t got your name…?”

“Guy,” he deadpans.

Bradley wonders if that’s his real name or he’s just saying it so Bradley would get off his case, but smiles anyway. “Nice to meet you, Guy.”

Guy hums gruffly and ushers him into the foyer, an identical hallway of the hotel, with a room on each side. “Through here,” he leads him towards another set of double doors at the end of the hallway.

Meanwhile, you are full-on freaking out in your living room. Should you get changed? You’ve taken off your heels, but getting everything off feels so premeditated… You don’t even know if he wants things to go that far. Maybe you can break your little rule and bring out the wine for liquid courage? Gosh, nothing feels right. And it’s been so long since you’ve last done this that you’ve actually gone rusty.

And before you get to decide—in the long, wasteful twenty minutes or so you’ve been pacing, you hear a knock on your door.

“Coming!”

You rush over to get the door and there he is, coming out victorious through the hurdles, smiling at you.

“Thanks, Guy. I’ll take it from here,” you dismiss your security a little too quickly, nodding over Bradley’s shoulder. You’re sure Guy is rolling his eyes all the way back to his room over your lovestruck teenager behavior.

But it hardly matters when this man before you is looking at you like the sun.

“Hey, you.” Bradley beams at you from his spot. As if afraid to invade your space somehow.

And so are you. This feels like that night in the garden all over again. You have to remind yourself that this isn’t some pocket of a park you stumbled into; this is your hotel room.

Quiet.

Private.

Safe.

“Come on in.” You let him cross the threshold, closing the door behind him the warm foyer light cast golden upon his face. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’ve ditched your six-inch heels, or that there’s no one else, but Bradley looks even taller than you remember him. Broader. More… imposing.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. There’s cameras everywhere and I had to—”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him. It feels rude to ask if he got caught on camera, but at this point, you had to ask. “Did you… Did they…?”

Bradley quickly shakes his head. “No, I took the basement entrance, out of sight. We’re good.”

”I’m, uh… sorry for the fuss.”

”Hey, it’s no trouble at all… Ms. Golightly,” he tilts his head, grinning at your chosen pseudonym.

”Yeah, it changes every time. My last stop in Tennessee, I was Clarice Starling,” you admit, making him laugh. “Although I’m glad you got the reference… Mr. Varjak.”

He simpers, very proud of himself. And with that, he takes a step closer to you. Towering over you. Crowding you with his smile, his scent, his body heat… and neither of you makes the first touch. You’re painfully aware of how his gaze keeps dropping to your lips. Bodies drawn towards each other but tied in place for some reason. It seems like despite all the flirting you did at the restaurant, everything goes out the window once you’re alone.

You’re just two strangers, caught in a thrilling game of push and pull. Too scared to tip over and just… fall.

“Can I kiss you…?” Bradley breathes out. He feels foolish for asking, but it’s the only way to make sure he’s not ruining the entire evening.

But you sigh in relief and nod your head yes, and it gives you the push you need to close the distance from him. You don’t know which one happened first; touching his lips with yours, grasping his arms for balance, or standing on your tiptoes on his shoes. He keeps you there, his strong hands securing your waist.

“You’re making me feel like a kid…” It makes you giggle into the kiss, and he can’t not possibly fall in love with the sound of that—with the feel of your lips pulled up right against his.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing…” Bradley runs his hands down your sides gently. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“All night? You mean you’ve been thinking about making out with me while I tell you my life story?” you gasp, feigning shock and offense.

He laughs again. “Maybe for a moment or two there, I’ll admit.”

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you give him a playful smack on his behind, and there’s a flash of… something in his eyes. A spark, or a darkening. You’re not sure what it is yet, but it sends butterflies into your stomach yet again.

Bradley tucks some loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I’m still a gentleman.”

“Really? I don’t believe that…” you sway his hips lightly, “I think you’re very… very bad,” you purr out, your lips barely touching.

He meets you halfway, and it feels like less of a shock this time. You gladly lose yourself in him, knowing you’ve crossed the line now. You finally notice how his mustache scratches your skin in a nice way, how he holds you flush against him, how he just melts into you in the kiss… enshrouding you in his warmth and lighting you on fire at the same time.

Bradley pulls away, barely just. His forehead is still pressed against yours, your noses are bumping, and his breath melding with yours. He licks his lips and you swear you can almost taste it. “You’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman, kid…”

You can’t help but chuckle at the nickname. It’s not one you expect, but it sounds right somehow. “I didn’t invite you all the way here to be a gentleman.”

The twinkle in his eyes darken. Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him. “Is that right?” Bradley’s hands slide down your hips, finding the swell of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

The air catches in your throat, and you swallow lightly. “Mm-hm.”

Instead, you lead him into the bedroom. Bradley is right behind you, barely a step behind. His hands have found a home on your hips and he seems adamant to stay there for a moment. Insisting to hold onto you because he worries he’ll get ahead of himself before you’re ready. But gosh, you’ve been ready all night and you’re practically twisting your arms around trying to reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Come here, I got you,” he rasps, his heart skipping as he drags the zipper down your back. He’s not sure which one he loves more; the dip of your spine that he wants to trace with your tongue, or the way the dress falls to the floor and reveals what’s underneath that prim and proper pink dress.

A tiny scrap of lace held by a black strap on either side of your hips, framing the swell of your ass perfectly.

And he swears, for a split second, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck…” he breathes out.

You can’t turn around fast enough. It might be a good ‘fuck’, but what if it’s a bad one? “What’s wrong?”

Bradley just blinks at you, for no other reason than how your nipples are poking out the side of the skimpy triangle of your bra. And that your lipstick is smeared on the edges from kissing him.

But of course, your mind is already racing from the lack of response and you’re already thinking, oh no this was a bad idea I shouldn’t have worn this—

“Hey, hey…” he sees your face fall and your arms come up to cover your chest and he immediately steps in. Holding you close, hoping to give you comfort. “Is this all for me?”

Oh, shit. Maybe if you close your eyes tight enough, you would melt to the floor. “I know, it’s a little much—”

“No, that’s not what I asked…” Bradley tilts your chin up, making you look him in the eye. “I said… Did you put these on for me?”

Your breath comes up short, and you nod ever so slightly. You don’t even trust your own voice not to betray how much you want him to like it. How much you want him.

“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” He smiles into your lips, kissing you there. Spelling out how he feels with his hands on your ass, his mouth on yours. “Such a good girl…”

That flips a switch in your brain and he can see it. Your eyes go wide, your posture changes, and all of a sudden, you look so… small in his arms. So vulnerable, so beautiful. So perfect.

Suddenly, he’s holding the world in his arms. The sexy little thing you call panties is a pesky little nuisance now, and he can’t wait to get it off of you. His broad shoulders are keeping your legs open, his nose nuzzling your pubic bone as he looks up at you.

Bradley lowers you down on the side of the bed, settling on his knees before you. Committing every inch to memory by touch, from your ankle to your knee, up the inside of your thighs. When he reaches the scrap of fabric at your core, he feels it slick. He smirks. “What do we have here?”

Your face heats up. How the fuck are you supposed to answer that? No words are coming to your head—not when he’s drawing patterns over your pussy, making the lace glisten all over. And when your panties are positively ruined, he draws his hand back and licks the offending fingers in earnest.

And all it takes is a taste to send him into a frenzy.

“Fuck honey, need to taste you…” he murmurs between feverish kisses all over your legs. “Can I?”

You nod fervently, feeling like he’s got you under a spell.

“Use your words, kid.” He grins, playfully biting the inside of your thigh.

The sharp sensation makes you yelp, and you grip his hair in reflex. “Yes, want your mouth on me, please…”

“Good girl, asking so nicely…” he chuckles, satisfied with your response. Then, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. That dainty scrap of lace you call panties is a pesky nuisance now, and he couldn’t wait any longer to get it off of you. With your legs hiked up on his broad shoulders, he dives into you.

A taste, as it turns out, is an understatement because what Bradley does is devour.

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp sharply at the contact.

With one hand pinning your thigh open, he laps you up in earnest, figuring out the many ways he can make you squirm. Time ceases to exist because it feels like he makes you come in no time, but also he’s been down there forever. But he goes on and on and on until his name comes out in a desperate chant of lust and need.

“Bradley Bradley Bradley…” she grinds shamelessly into his mustache now, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation on your part. “Please, I’m gonna…”

“I know, honey. I got you. It’s okay.” It’s an oddly wholesome thing to say in a moment like this, but maybe you’re a hopeless romantic at heart, because sweet nothings get you off.

Your orgasm strikes like a thunderbolt, and you find yourself arching into his mouth. The more you take, the more he gives—or is it the other way around?— It seems like he takes as much pleasure in it as you do. Maybe even more, as he holds onto you as you squirm away overstimulated.

“Bradley… wait.” You grab a handful of his hair, trembling breathlessly.

His mustache glistens when he comes up for air, and he finally (finally!) takes off his suit jacket as he stands up. He eases up on the throttle and lets you breathe for a second. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, watching you spread out like a feast for him. Legs open, bra askew, hair fanned out on the pillow… God, he’s so lucky.

When he returns on top of you, you’re eager to pull him by his belt buckle, but he brushes your hand away. You frown in protest. “But I wanna touch you—”

“It’s not your turn yet, honey,” he chides you teasingly.

“You just had your turn!”

He shrugs, nosing your cheek. “Well, it’s still my turn, so…” Bradley closes the gap again and kisses you openly.

The taste of your arousal on his tongue makes you dizzy, but it can’t distract you from the buzz of his fingers rubbing your devoured pussy, sending shivers down your spine. It’s entirely too much, and you keel over from the contact.

“Somebody’s a little sensitive, huh?” He grins, easing the throttle a little.

“Fuck you…”

“Well, if you say so.” He slides his middle finger in.

“Ohhh… Bradley…” you buck up your hips and moan. But in comes another finger, and you swear it feels like all of him.

He’s wound differently this time, like a man on a mission. With his fingers crooking and stroking your silky walls, beckoning you to come closer, while you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to hold on. But his teeth yanks the edge of your bra to set your nipple free, and his sly tongue finally gets a taste… all resolve goes out the window.

“Come on, honey. I know you got another one in you…” he breathes out, undoing the front clasp of your bra so he can suck your tits with all his might, willing you to come.

And frankly, who are you to say no?

The burst of pleasure hits you from your core to your fingertips. If he wasn’t pinning you down on top of you, you would have probably floated away. But you’re firmly laid on the mattress and feeling everything. Your eyes blink back into focus as you come down from your high.

You pant, staring at him in disbelief. Nobody has ever put that much attention on you in bed before even taking off his clothes. “You got a baseball bat in there or something?”

“Something like that.” He rolls his eyes playfully. Jokingly, you assume.

You take his arm, kissing his wrist, “Can I touch you now?” sticking your tongue out to lick his digits clean of you. Putting on a show as you suck his fingers. “Please?”

He throws his head back and groans. “Fuck.” He can’t resist that doe-eyed look you’re putting on, nor can he resist you undoing his shirt buttons. He can play dominant all he wants, but he knows that the truth of the matter is, he’s all wrapped up around your little finger. “Okay, okay. You win.”

It’s a mess of unbuckling pants, kicking off shoes, and tossing clothes to the floor. Your hand reaches out to trace his gleaming skin, every ridge of his abdomen. You’ve seen the Calvin Klein campaigns and the Men’s Health covers— and gosh, he looks like a dream. But when that thing just springs up to his stomach when he pushes his boxers down…

You didn’t expect him to manifest straight out of your wet dream.

“Holy fuck, you weren’t kidding about your baseball bat,” you breathe out, head tilted as you stare at his thick cock. The vein that runs along the side, the way it curves slightly to the right, the length that makes you clench at the mere thought of it… Fuck, it’s pretty.

Bradley chuckles sheepishly. He knows how big it is, he’s heard all the jokes in the locker room, but hearing it from you hits different. “You scared?”

You should be, a little. But without flinching, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “Nah, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Gosh, he loves you. He’ll have to remember not to blurt that out too early. “Okay, big girl,” he chuckles, kissing you one last time before rolling off of the bed.

His sudden disappearance out of sight makes you frown. “Where are you—” you prop yourself up on your elbow, seeing him fish out a packet of condom from his trousers pocket, “Right. Safety first.”

Bradley nods, tearing the packet open with his teeth and rolling it on. There’s something so hot about how a man looks just before he fucks someone. “Mm-hm. Gotta make sure we’re both covered.”

“Do I need goggles and a helmet, too?”

He pauses as he straddles your hips. “Maybe next round,” he cheekily quips back. The idea of you wearing nothing but a helmet and safety goggles weirdly makes his cock stir, too. But you’re already lying naked under him, and he doubts that much will deter his hard-on.

Bradley pushes himself into you a little, and your eyes water as you whimper out in a blur of pain and pleasure. And here you thought two of his fingers felt full…

He stops in his tracks, trying to gauge your reaction. He nearly lost his mind over how tightly you’re clenched around him, but he doesn’t want to presume. “Too much?” He asks softly, stroking your cheek.

Your breaths run ragged as you look up at him, almost in awe. “You’re just… so big…”

He laughs breathlessly. He hates to brag, but it’s true. And as much as he’s enjoying the way you flutter under him, he has to ask, “Want me to pull out?” Please say no, please say no, I don’t think I can handle it…

“N-no…” you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him for dear life. “But I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

Bradley smiles at what has to be the most adorable look he’s ever seen from you. He kisses your forehead in reassurance. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay? I promise.”

Feeling this small and vulnerable so soon after meeting someone would usually set all kinds of alarms in your head. You never know how a guy would take it. But in this moment, nestled in the crook of his neck, among the mix of his perfume and aftershave and his natural musk… all you want to do is stay. “Okay,” you nod softly.

“Let’s try again then, hm?” He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear, “Open up, love.”

With a deep breath, you bite back a whimper as you take him deeper, still not quite all the way in. “Hurts…”

Bradley stops again, his concern fully taking over now. “You sure you want me to keep going…?”

“Yes!” You surprise yourself with how quick and desperate you answered him. Your eyes shut, trying to offset the warmth setting over your cheeks, as you make the dirty admission, “I… I like it when it hurts.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Bradley has to remind himself not to come on the spot, because holy shit. He wouldn’t go this hard on a woman so early in the game, but… his head is dizzy from how innocently you said it. He takes a breath to pull himself together. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

The air is heavy. The room is silent. You can hear the shift in the tension as you smirk, “Yessir.”

There you are, you little devil. Bradley simply grabs you by the hips and bottoms out inside you. Your face goes slack while your cunt tightens around his cock, and it blows his mind.

He starts out slow, torturously so. Stuffing himself inside your crevice and dragging himself out, willing you to feel every inch. Every ridge. Until your body loosens up and twists around in the throes of passion. Your mouth falls open, your little gasps and moans coming and going as he pleases.

The unhurried pace is nice for a few minutes, when you’re still adjusting to his size. But now that he’s snug inside you, you’re simply aching for more. Your hips arch up into him halfway, a little more urgent, disrupting the rhythm with a pleasant stutter.

He notices this and smiles. “So eager… what’s the rush, hm?”

You answer with a groan. He has a penchant for asking you questions you can’t answer, this man. “You feel so good, baby…” you murmur headily, hands desperately grasping on him—his arms, his shoulders, his back…

”You feel even better.” He nips at your pert nipple, relishing in your angelic little filthy cry. Fuck, he can feel the exact motion of your pussy tightening for him. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that…”

”Then don’t.”

His eyes flicker onto yours immediately. You’re gonna be the death of him, he swears…

You grab his hair by the fistful, keeping his gaze. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

”Oh fuck—” he doesn’t stand a chance. His body reacts faster than his brain could compute, and he holds your hips flush against his as he buries himself as deep as he can. Every twitch of his cock sends you reeling, and your pussy clenches and unwinds in your climax, following him down from his high to yours.

Free falling, hand in hand.

Bradley rolls off of you and you would complain, if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you into his chest. Thank fuck. You’re not quite ready to untangle from him yet. Not when your breaths still run a bit ragged, as if accidentally catching each other’s. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and it feels unlike your regular out-of-town hookup. No, this one’s different. But not a word is said between you on that for different reasons— each of you holding your cards close to your chest, as close as you’re holding each other.

#nowhere to go but up from here on out folks!!#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #footballer!bradley #footballer!bradley x popstar!reader #top gun imagine #top gun au #ava writes #fever pitch

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italiansteebie · 11 months

Text

Eddie was always asking Steve something.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“How do you get your hair like that?”

“What did you dream about last night?”

And everytime it was about him. And that’s what had Steve confused, because why did someone so interesting like Eddie Munson want to know about boring old Steve? I mean, what you see is what you get with the guy, there’s not much to him. But Eddie seemed to be interested in it.

Now, Steve wasn’t dumb, he could be a little airheaded but, he can tell when someone is flirting with him, and boy, was Eddie flirting with him. He didn’t mind it though, not one bit, because if he was being honest, he had a huge crush on the guy. He was super smart, and creative, and he already liked the kids that seemed to always be hanging around him, and damn. He was kind of out of his league, but Eddie was flirting with him, and Steve was in no rush to stop it.

So when Eddie asked his questions, Steve always answered with not much of a second thought, though there was always that lingering question in the back of his mind that wondered why Eddie wanted to know these things. It’s not like he was all that interesting, but Eddie always responded with genuine interest, and well. It made Steve feel good. No one had ever taken the time to ask him questions like that, they always seemed to just… Figure it out in their own time, through passing conversations, or some other situation.

So yeah, Steve really liked when Eddie asked him about himself, but he didn’t realize the effect it had on him.

—

It was hellfire night, Steve offered to host, maybe it was just an excuse to talk to Eddie, but no one else had to know that. Eddie was downstairs setting up, and Steve and Robin were in the kitchen. Steve was rambling on about something he’d seen on TV about sharks, (He just thought they were cool, okay? Leave him alone), and Robin had been nodding along humming occasionally.

Dustin came bounding around the corner, arms full of snacks he’d brought for the meeting. “Uh oh! Let's go downstairs, Steve is talking about himself again!” He sing-songed, earning a giggle from Robin, which honestly hurt. He didn’t realize people hated it so much when he talked about his interests. “Hey? What’s wrong with sharks?” He sighed, looking at Robin who only shrugged. “You just… Have a tendency to ramble and well… It’s not that interesting.” Dustin said, painfully blunt as always. Steve hid his hurt with an eye roll and a scoff, “Whatever. Get out of my kitchen, Henderson.” He said, pointing towards the basement door, where he could hear Eddie shuffling around.

The kids and the rest of hellfire trailed down the stairs, leaving Steve and Robin alone once more.

“Is it really that annoying when I talk about stuff?” Steve asked, tone ringing with sincerity. Robin walked over to him, worming her way into his arms, “Steve, you know I love you. And you’re a really cool person, sometimes, but. Ever since hanging out with Eddie more, you’ve started to ramble, and well. It’s just… Kinda…” She trailed. Steve backed away from her, “Oh my god! You think I’m annoying?” He scoffs, “See if I listen to any more of your rambles, Bobs.” He says, pushing her gently.

He hoped it came off as casual but damn. If Robin thinks he’s annoying well then…

So he pulls away a little bit. Not just from her, but from everyone, including Eddie.

—

It comes to a head five days later, Eddie and Steve are hanging out in the trailer, watching MTV. A commercial pops up about a new hair care product that Steve’s been hearing about, and he lights up. “Hey! That’s the thing I was telling you about! The one where it- uh. Nevermind.” He said, catching the beginning of his ramble, leaning back into the couch and sighing.

Eddie turned to him, “Why’d you stop, Stevie?” concern written all over his face. Steve sighed, shaking his head, “Nothing I just- I know it’s annoying when I talk about the stuff I like because no one else in the group likes it so I just. I’ve been trying to like. Not talk as much I guess?” He admitted, ducking his head. He felt Eddie shift suddenly, and soon enough the metal head finagled him into his lap. “Steve. I love when you talk about the stuff you like, because your face lights up and you get so into it and well. I like to learn about you, you pay so much attention to everyone else around you, I just felt like you deserved to have the favor returned.” Eddie said, placing a hand on Steve’s cheek.

“Really? You don’t think it’s like, annoying or anything?”

“Steve, you listen to me ramble for hours about lord of the rings and I know you have no idea what I’m going on about half the time. If you can sit through that, and listen to our hellfire sessions, then I can only do the same for you. And don’t say it’s different because it’s not. Your interests are just as special as any of ours.”

Steve sniffled, trying to hide the fact that he’d teared up at Eddie’s speech.

“Awe, Steve are you crying? I- Did I say something wrong?” He asked gently, Steve shaking his head frantically. “No, no. Not at all, I- No one has ever wanted to get to know me like this, I’m just. Happy. Yeah,” He said tearfully, wiping his eyes. Eddie held him closer, and Steve relished in the feeling.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

“I’m falling in love with you.”

Eddie paused, and there was silence.

Steve shifted suddenly, pulling out of Eddie’s grapes and standing up. “Eddie, I am so sorry, I shouldn't have sprung that on you like that. I’m so-” Eddie cut him off, standing and grasping his waist. “Steve. The more I get to know you, the further I fall for you. I uh. I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” He said, eyes flickering down to Steve’s lips, feeling his breath on his face. “Okay,” Steve breathed, a smile spreading on his face as they leaned in.

They shared a sweet kiss, Eddie’s hands wrapped around Steve’s waist, Steve’s hands tangled in the metal head’s hair. They pulled away slightly, “Stop smiling so much, it makes it hard for me to kiss you,” Eddie murmured, unable to keep his own smile off his face. “I can’t help it.” Steve sighed, resting his forehead against Eddie’s. “I know, baby, me either.” Eddie said, tone close to something of bliss. They stayed in that position for who knows how long, swaying to the music that played quietly on the TV set.

—

And the next time the kids tried to cut Steve off of his rambles, Eddie countered the attack with a “Next time we’ll just make out instead.” Which earned a groan from the kids and hellfire, and somewhat of a fond look from Robin who tried to hide it by rolling her eyes. “You guys are so gross!” She called. “We know!” Was the response she got from Eddie, who couldn’t be bothered to hear what she had to say next because he was ankle deep into a conversation with Steve, and he was so locked in to what he was saying, Steve might as well have been reciting ‘Star Wars.’

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #best friend robin #insecure Steve Harrington #sad steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things #steddie fic #best friend robin buckley #soft eddie munson #soft steve harrington #autistic steve harrington

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hqbaby · 8 months

Text

twenty-four — get it now

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.1k content. swearing, big feelings, not much rly?

You wouldn’t say you’ve ever been a violent person. Sure, there were the occasional punches you threw at Oikawa and the slap wars with Yachi and that one time you and Yukie decided to box each other in the gym… but those times don’t count. They’re your friends and you only fight them because you love them.

The point is that you’ve never wanted to punch a stranger. Not until now at least.

It’s the weekend after midterms and you and a few of your friends have managed to pool some money together (mostly Sakusa) to rent a villa near the beach. Granted, it’s basically winter and none of you have any intentions of swimming, but you’re all usually caught up with training in the spring and summer so this is your only real chance to do this.

So here you are, gathered with your friends in the living room over mountains of food, talking over some reality dating show… meeting Suna’s girlfriend.

“This is Ayame,” he tells the group, his arm around her waist. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Everyone is stunned. And rightfully so. They all know that Suna and the word “girlfriend” just don’t mix. At least, they’ve never seen it happen before. They never thought they would.

It’s your boyfriend who speaks up first.

“Well I’ll be damned!” he says, smiling widely. Like he’s just won a prize. “Yer the girl he’s been seein’ for a while now, aren’t ya?”

The girl blushes a little at that, offering a soft smile.

She’s pretty. You’ll give her that. And, honestly, in any other context, you would actually want to get to know her, to be her friend.

Maybe if Suna’s arm wasn’t around her waist—holding her the same way he used to hold you—you wouldn’t feel the urge to tackle her. Right now, you’re about ready to jump up from the couch and grab her hair.

“It’s so nice to meet you all,” she says, tamping your violent intentions. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing your weekend together.”

Atsumu speaks again. “We don’t mind at all! We’d love to have our Sunarin’s girlfriend with us.”

Suna glares at him. “Whatever,” he says, picking up her bags and leading her to the stairs. “I’m gonna help her get settled.”

The two of them walk up to the second floor and, when everyone hears the door upstairs open and close, the room erupts into chaos.

“Who the fuck was that?” Aran.

“That man’s a mystery!” Hinata.

“I wonder what’s wrong with her.” Osamu.

“Did she take off her shoes?” Sakusa.

“She has a pretty smile!” Bokuto.

“Did we all see the same thing?” Kita.

"Okay, I think she took off her shoes." Sakusa.

“I think it’s great!” Atsumu.

You glance over at your boyfriend sitting beside you, brows furrowed as you catch his beaming smile and bright eyes. “You think it’s great?”

He turns to you and nods. “I mean, he finally has someone. That’s cool, right?”

There’s an edge to his tone that you’ve only picked up on now. What is it?

“Right,” you say, smiling awkwardly. “It is—it’s good for him.”

The truth is that Atsumu hasn’t brought up your relationship with Suna since you first talked about it. You have a feeling he’s been avoiding the subject entirely. You haven’t been too keen on discussing it either so you just never mentioned it.

You don’t know how he actually feels about the whole thing. And, if you’re being honest, you’re a little scared to find out.

The boys eventually head down the basement to mess with the pool table while you, Kaori, and Yachi grab a bottle of wine and play a game of Monopoly. You’re all cheating and the rules are entirely lost on account of you constantly distracting each other with new topics to talk about, but you’re having fun.

Until you’re not.

“Hey,” Suna greets the three of you—well, it’s more like he greets Yachi and Kaori with how much he’s avoiding your eyes, but it’s the thought that counts. His girlfriend is right behind him. “Where are the guys?”

“Basement. They’ve been waiting for you,” Kaori answers, she rolls the dice and waves at the girl behind him. “You wanna join us?”

Your eyes flick over to Kaori’s across the coffee table, but all she does is give you a look like “What are we supposed to do? Ignore her?” and you know she’s right. You can't be rude.

You look up at the girlfriend and smile. “Yeah, join us!” you say cheerily. “The boys are lame anyway.”

She starts at your sudden attention but hides it well. She’s clearly had some practice. “Oh, sure,” she says. “Thank you.”

Suna makes a face like he’s about to say something but decides against it. With a short nod and a quick glance at you, he says he’ll see you all later and walks out of the room.

“So who’s winning?” the girlfriend asks, sitting down on the carpet at the empty side of the table—beside you.

“Oh, no one really,” you tell her. “We’ve mostly been talking.”

She smiles. “I get that,” she says. “I can’t even watch movies with my friends anymore. We just talk over them.”

“We do too!” Yachi says, rolling the dice and taking her turn. “Y/N’s the worst of us though.”

You stick your tongue out at her. “Says the person that talked through Barbie.”

“I had to pee and no one was catching me up!”

You and Kaori laugh, taking your turns at the game.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier,” you tell the girl as you pay Yachi.

“Oh!” she says. “It’s Ayame.”

You nod at her, smiling so sweetly you almost make yourself sick. “I’m Y/N,” you say before looking over at your friends, “and that’s Kaori and Yachi.”

“It’s so nice to meet you all.”

Highly doubt that.

“What’s your major?” Yachi asks. “Shoot, Kao, I rolled the die under the couch.”

“I’m an econ major,” Ayame says, laughing a little as Kaori struggles to grab the die. “Need help?”

Kaori shakes her head, pulling her arm from under the couch and holding the die up for all to see. “Tada!” she says before turning her attention back to Ayame. “Why econ?”

The girl shrugs. “Parents.”

“Same.” Kaori sighs. “They made me go into marketing.”

“I’m in marketing too,” Yachi says. “That’s how Kaori and I met.”

Ayame nods before turning to look at you. “Y/N, you’re taking chem, right?”

You focus on the board in front of you, keeping your eyes away from her when you answer. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

She giggles and you can’t help but feel your blood boil at the sound. It just sounds so light and airy and sweet, no one should be able to laugh that way. “Everyone kinda knows you,” she says. “You’re the campus dream girl.”

“Ah,” you say, letting out a chuckle. You sound so fake. “Right.”

The four of you continue exchanging the regular pleasantries. Where are you from? What highschool did you go to? How were your midterms?

The more she talks, the more you start to hate Ayame even more... because there's absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’s so perfect it makes you wish you could just spontaneously combust.

“So you and Suna, huh?” Kaori eventually says. “That’s interesting.”

You narrow your eyes at her slightly, hoping Ayame doesn’t catch on. “Yeah, we were all wondering about that, Kao.”

The girl seems oblivious to your tone. Or at least she doesn’t care enough to react to it. “Oh, well, you know,” she says, placing her hands on the carpet behind her and leaning back. “He’s not exactly the commitment type.”

Yachi nods. “Yeah, we wouldn't necessarily peg him as that.”

You clear your throat. “So how did you guys get together?” you ask, trying to sound as natural as possible.

Ayame seems to shrink a little at that. You wonder why. “We were kinda seeing each other casually for a while,” she explains. “About two weeks ago, we decided to make it official.”

Kaori stills, having the same realization as you. “Two weeks?”

“Yup. Before midterms season.”

Two weeks ago, you had just gotten home from your trip visiting family. Two weeks ago, Suna told Atsumu something about what happened between the two of you. Two weeks ago, you came clean to your boyfriend about what had happened.

For two whole weeks you’ve been wondering what Suna told him.

For two whole weeks, he’s been with this girl. This girl who looks too good, too kind, too sweet to deserve anything less than the best. The complete opposite of you, the complete opposite of Suna, the complete opposite of what anyone deserves.

You don’t even realize you’re standing up until Kaori asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I am,” you reassure her, trying your best to keep the smile from slipping off your face. “I just need some air. I’ll be right back.”

You slip out of the room, putting on a stray sweater from a nearby couch, and stepping out into the backyard of the rental. You sit on one of the benches outside, the whole place dark save for a few lampposts and the stars in the night sky.

You find your phone in your pocket and tap the top name in your contacts, trying to catch your breath.

“Hello?” the voice on the other line says. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You’re scared that you'll end up choking on nothing. “Tooru,” you say quietly, a strangling sensation gripping your throat. “I-he—well, it’s… bad. I don’t feel good.”

“What? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

The panic in his voice snaps you out of your haze.

“No! Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell him. “Sorry. I just didn’t know who to call.”

You hear him breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of your words. “Okay,” he says, clearly still concerned, “but what’s wrong?”

You let out a sob. You didn’t know you were crying.

“He has a girlfriend,” you say, crouching and putting your head in your hands. You don’t even try to wipe your tears, they’d just keep coming anyway. “And she’s pretty and sweet and completely innocent in all this and… I should’ve seen it coming.”

You don’t even need to say his name for Oikawa to know who you’re talking about.

He sucks through his teeth, worried about you and a little disappointed that you’re having this conversation in the first place. He knew you were still being weird about Suna, but he figured that being Atsumu had changed things for you. He should’ve known things wouldn't change that much that soon.

“That sucks,” he says eventually. “I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

You shake your head, holding the phone to your ear. “I’m being stupid.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I already have Atsumu. This is so fucking dumb.”

“Stop it.”

“I honestly don’t know what I expected. It’s not like he cared about me—”

His voice is hard on the other line. “No,” he says firmly. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

You take a deep breath, sucking in the salty air drifting from the ocean. “Sorry, Tooru,” you tell him. “I’m okay. Just a sucky moment. Sorry.”

You hang up before he can even say another word. You just sit there on the bench, staring at the beach as the waves overtake the shore, the chill winds that come with the end of fall surrounding you.

“Y/N?”

Fuck.

“Ayame, hey,” you say, wiping your eyes as best as you can. “Is everything good?”

She nods, closing the door to the house behind her. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” she tells you. The girl steps closer, cautiously taking a seat on the bench a good distance away from you. “Are you good?”

“Oh, yeah, never been better,” you say, waving it off. “Allergies.”

She nods. “Right.”

You pick at your nails anxiously, unable to say anything else. There’s just something about having her sit beside you that sets your lungs ablaze. You’re burning from inside out and you can’t say it’s a good feeling.

“You should talk to him.”

Your head bolts up at that, staring at Ayame with a confused look. “What do you mean?”

The expression on her face could be anything. Pity? Worry? Concern? Jealousy? You can’t tell. All you know is she probably feels bad about something.

“Suna,” she says, the name rolling off her tongue like a knife to the heart. “You should talk to him. He might have some things to say to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ayame reaches out and places a hand on top of yours. She smiles. “I think I get it now.”

You frown. Why is she touching you? And why aren’t you pulling away? “Get what?”

“Talk to him,” she says, squeezing your hand. She gets up and heads for the door. “Just… listen to what he has to say.”

She steps inside the house and closes the door behind her, leaving you gaping in confusion in her wake.

What would he have to say?

notes. now everyone say THANK YOU AYAME also!! we are kinda entering the end zone 🫣 idk how to feel abt that yet but YEAH HERE WE ARE

#hqbaby.fyi #hqbaby #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou fic #suna fic #miya atsumu fic #atsumu fic #haikyuu fic

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oncasette · 2 years

Text

𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗨𝗦

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: 3.3k.

“I was gonna go with you, you know. To New York,” he says softly. He brings his hands up to run across his face, brushing his unruly bangs out of place. His hair is longer than you remembered. Curlier, too, maybe.

“What?” There’s no way he could’ve known. No. You told him it was because of time, you were out of time, there wasn’t enough time. You didn’t tell him.

or the one where you broke up with eddie before you graduated thinking it’d be too hard to do the long distance thing. not having told him why you ended things, seeing him at steve’s place a couple years later was not something you were prepared for.

warnings: not beta’d, smut, porn with miniscule plot, unprotected sex

masterlist | taglist

He wasn’t supposed to be here. God, you were never supposed to see him again. Ever. Why was he here? In Steve Harrington’s basement, sitting over on that couch with that stupid vest you’d gotten him for your first anniversary on.

You don’t think he’s seen you, yet. He’s too engrossed in a conversation with the Henderson kid to have seen you. Too smiley–you hope–to have seen you. Not that you didn’t want him happy, no, you only wanted him happy. Just, it hurts to see him smile, you think. To know he can smile without you next to him. When he’d told you you were the only thing that let him smile, that kept him going.

Just hurt, is all.

“Nance, we gotta go,” you mumble over to her, not even a second after the two of you had stumbled down the steep staircase.

“What? We just- oh.” she saw him, too, then.

“Please,” you say. “He can’t-I can’t.”

Your voice is shaky already, tears threatening to well up in your eyes as you try to figure out your situation.

He can’t have seen you, yet. You haven’t been there long enough for him to have seen you, and you have to get out of this stifling room before he sees you, or, you know, you spontaneously combust.

He calls your name over the crowded space, approaching you faster than you’re able to finish conjuring up an escape plan. He’s got that nervous smile on, the one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, as he says, “Hey, uh, what are you doing home? Thought you moved up to New York?”

“Yeah, I did. Just home for the summer,” you say, refusing to tilt your head up enough to meet his gaze.

“Cool…” you can see him tapping his boot against the smooth concrete, the laces bouncing almost in time with the cheesy ballad Steve had to have been in charge of.

“So, we’ll see you around then, Eddie-” Nancy says at the same time that Eddie chimes in with, “Would you, maybe, wanna go somewhere a little quieter? Catch up?”

And it seems like Nancy just can’t catch a break because as soon as she says, “I don’t think that’s the best idea,” you’re cutting her off–against your better judgment–with your own, “Yeah, yeah. Sure, Eds.”

He almost looks surprised, despite having proposed the idea, slapping at his pockets like he was looking for something important. His keys, maybe, his wallet.

“Henderson! Watch my shit, I’ll be back!” he calls across the room, not even bothering to look over his shoulder to confirm the kid had heard him before he’s leading you back up the stairs. He’s not forceful with it. Not dragging you anywhere. Just showing you where to go.

His hand’s around your wrist, but only barely. Like he’s afraid to touch you, hold onto you too tight. It’s gone before you want it to leave, too. You’re just getting used to the warmth of his touch again when he’s pulled you into Steve’s bedroom and clicked the door shut.

“What’d you wanna talk about?” It’s harder to breathe here. Harder to think without all the body heat.

He hasn’t moved much, either. He’s just standing there staring at you with those stupid brown eyes you could never say no to.

He thought it was going to be easier. He thought that he would be able to collect his thoughts, get what he wanted out. All he can think about is three years ago, though. How you’d gone without him, how you’d left him stuck in Hawkins.

“What?” There’s no way he could’ve known. No. You told him it was because of time, you were out of time, there wasn’t enough time. You didn’t tell him.

“That’s why you ended it, right? Because you wanted to go be a hot shot at NYU?” he asks, practically spitting the school’s name at you.

“Eddie-”

“God, do you even know how hard I worked to graduate for you? I did it for you,” he says. He’s inching towards you, barely taking steps yet still managing to cage you in against the door. “Just for you to break up with me two weeks before graduation.”

“It’s not that simple, please-”

“I loved you,” he says.

It’s something you never thought you’d hear again, not from him at least. There’d been the one college boyfriend, the drunken nights. But never again from him. It’s–

Loved.

“Loved?” you stutter out. It really shouldn’t have affected you. Love, loved, fucking any of it. You ended things, it was over. “Loved me?”

You’re able to meet his gaze for the first time that evening. He’s close enough now that you can feel his breath against your face, even if only slightly. Smell the cheap liquor on it. The weed. His spearmint toothpaste, and those chocolates he always seemed to be eating.

“I-I mean… fuck, you can’t do this to me,” his exhale is shaky. “This wasn’t how– you can’t do this to me.”

“Eddie,” you mumble. It falls from your lips so easily. Like you never stopped saying it, like you were meant to be saying it.

“You said it would work out. You promised me, baby,” he says. He hasn’t stopped looking at you. Hasn’t dropped his eyes, hasn’t faltered even in the slightest. His palms are flat against the cheap wood of the door. His shoulders, hell, his everything is so close to you. He’s so warm, too. Always ran hot, but the flush he’s sporting is radiating off him in waves.

“I know, I know…” you say. “I don’t know what happened.”

“You dumped me, remember,” he says.

“It’s not that simple.”

“See,” he hisses. “You keep saying that, but I think it is that simple. You left me a note. A fucking note in my stupid fucking drug box that it was over and then you wouldn’t even talk to me afterwards. You had your parents on ‘don’t let Eddie in the house’ duty, like you never wanted to see me again.”

“You know that’s not true,” you say quietly.

“Not true? What else would you say happened, then, princess?” The thought of leaning forward, just ever so slightly, to catch his mouth crosses your mind. Stop his rambling the way you always used to.

“If I- If I saw you after I ended things…” you trailed off, watching as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “I would’ve just come crawling back. It never would have– I wouldn’t have left.”

He doesn’t respond, filling the room’s heavy silence with the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“You didn’t even let me say goodbye, baby.” the malice in his voice has dissipated. The pain, the anger as his eyes scan yours.

“Eddie,” it’s a breathy gasp, a moan almost as you bring one of your hands up to clutch the open zipper of his jacket.

“Didn’t even let me say goodbye,” he mumbles before he drops his mouth to kiss you. Fully kiss you, too, experimentally tilting his head in hopes that you wouldn’t push him away. He’d been dreaming of this, of you, of touching you again. For years, months, every night.

“Please,” you whimper against him. He seems to understand before you fully do. Always knew you better than he knew himself.

His hands drop down to palm the backs of your thighs, signaling for you to jump. Always stronger than he looked, too.

It’s a short walk to the bed in the corner of the room, leaving Eddie to lay you down on the comforter rather than drop you like you’re sure he would’ve done a couple years back. It’s the first thing you notice. How gentle he’s being, how barely-there his touches are.

It’s also then that you realize how much of a goner you really are. There’s no way you’re going to be able to leave again without him. Be able to live three states away without thinking of him every night, wishing you could’ve just stayed here with him. Just needing him.

“I-uh…” you stutter as you try not to focus on the way his hips are pressed against yours. More, how good it feels. How hard he already seems to be. How the button on his jeans is pressing just right against your clit.

He’s leaning down to press his mouth to yours again before you can finish your thought, though, the chain of his necklace dangling against your throat.

Eddie moves a lot slower than you’re used to. A lot more focused on where he’s putting his hands than nineteen-year old him had been.

His fingers brush past the hem of your top on their hunt for bare skin. And it’s just your hips, barely your waistline, but the feel of his cold fingers against you sends shockwaves down to your core. You bristle as he begins to push the flimsy cloth up, exposing more of your stomach to his touch until he leaves it bunched just under your bra.

“‘S this okay?” he exhales. Even with all the shit he spewed earlier, he was still just Eddie. Your Eddie. The boy that never wanted to overstep, to push you too far.

“Mhm,” you moan before you lean up to chase his mouth.

“No,” he says. “Need to hear you say it for me. Need it, please.”

“It’s okay, Eddie. I want you to touch me,” you sigh as the calloused pads of his fingers trail back down the front of your torso. He pushes them past the waistband of your shorts, straining against the denim as he addresses the thin lace of your panties.

“Never thought I’d get the chance to feel you again,” he admits softly. It’s breathy, barely there, like everything else the two of you had said since he’d pulled you away from the wall. A stark contrast from the revved up Eddie Munson you’d seen five minutes ago.

His fingers continue to move down over your underwear, his middle finger delicately brushing past your clit as he collects the slick that’s already seeped through the thin fabric of your underwear. You arch against him, pushing your hips further into his hand in an futile attempt to get him to do something.

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he tuts. “I waited too long for this. Taking my time with you.”

“Take your time a little faster, please,” you say. He drops his head to press his lips against your throat, chuckling in his process of placing open mouthed kisses along it. You always got so worked up for him. Always begging for him before he’d even really started.

“Don’t think you get to make any demands right now, sweetheart,” he says before he pulls his hand away from you completely.

He doesn’t even give you a chance to whine about it before he’s popping the button of your shorts and tugging the denim and underwear down your legs. It takes a little bit of maneuvering on your end, planting your feet and lifting your hips, but you don’t think you’ve ever been so glad to get clothes off of your body.

Well, except for maybe that one summer, down by the lake. When Eddie had tugged your bikini bottoms off and fucked you on the dock. He’d been teasing you the whole day, having pushed the cloth to the side more than once only to leave you high and dry seconds later. God, yeah, that was the most excited you’d been to get clothes off. This, though. This was a very close second.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm? Can hear you thinking.” He’s back on you, now, after dropping his jacket and t-shirt off the side of the bed. Leaning over you. Too far to kiss, but close enough that his chain was dangling, again.

He’d gotten new ink since you last saw him this bare. Devil horns on his rib cage. What looked to be a dancing skeleton along his bicep. Your name scrawled out in his handwriting along his collarbone.

“You got my name tattooed on you?” you ask, choking slightly on your spit. Or the air. Or just the idea that he’d gotten you permanently imprinted on his body without your knowledge.

“What?” he glances down, realistically knowing that he probably wouldn’t have been able to see the ink, anyway. “Yeah, yeah. I-uh… I got it done a while ago. I was gonna…”

“You were gonna what?” you bring your hand up to trace the lettering.

“I was gonna surprise you with it at graduation,” he says.

Instead of responding you surge your face forward, bridging the awkward gap between you in order to press your lips against his and, in turn, pull him further down towards you. Kissing him was as easy as it’d ever been. As good as it’d ever been. Even better, maybe, with the way he was licking into your mouth.

“Fuck me, Eddie,” you moan against him.

“Nope, no. Not gonna fuck you,” his voice is muffled against your skin, teeth grazing your lips as you swap air.

“Fuck, please,” you whine. It’s too much. The idea that he’s gonna stop, when you just got him started again. The idea that you might not even get to feel him one last time.

“Not gonna fuck you, baby. Gonna show you why you never should’ve left. Gonna make you mine again,” he hums. It’s then you notice his hands on your hips again, the bruising hold he’s got on you.

“Eds-”

“Gonna make you mine, baby,” he grunts. His hand is on your bare pussy in seconds sliding two fingers through your wetness, only to bring them back up to circle your throbbing bundle of nerves. “Have to. Can’t lose you again.”

“You’re not gonna lose me, Eddie,” you say. And you mean it this time. There’s no possible way you’d be able to leave him again, you’re not strong enough. You were barely strong enough the last time.

“Yeah?” he plunges the two fingers into you.

“‘M all yours. Always was,” you sigh.

You’re already worked up, already stoking that fire in your core as he pumps his digits in a steady pace.

“Need you, Eddie,” you say.

“I need you to cum for me first, baby,” he dismisses your begging.

“Don’t care. I need you,” you gasp as his fingers brush that spongy part deep inside of you, leaving the band of his ring to graze the heat of your core.

“Fine, fine. Fuck, next time I’m going to make you cum as many times as I want,” he grumbles, pulling his hand away to swipe your juices on his jeans. You push yourself up on your elbows as you watch him attempt to unbuckle his belt and get off the bed at the same time. His eyes are flickering back and forth between you and where his hands are shakily fiddling with the leather, forcing you to sit up fully and gently slap his hands away.

You take your time, slowly tugging the thick leather through his belt loops as you push yourself up to your knees, forcing yourself to be face to face with him. He’s watching your hands, watching you pop the button and unzip his fly. As soon as you’re done, though, he’s pushing the restrictive denim and obnoxiously green boxers–not that you had time to comment on them–down his thighs and onto the floor. He does his best in helping you pull your top over your head, but you pretty much have to take the reins on that, too, before he’s pushing you back to crawl over you.

“I’m on the pill,” you say before he’s got a chance to ask.

“I-uh. Fuck, okay,” he exhales. It’s a step you hadn’t taken before, not with how vehemently opposed your parents had been to the idea of birth control in high school.

It takes him a second to line himself up, still struggling to compute the idea of fucking you raw. Then, though, he’s pushing in and the stretch of him has you seeing stars. He almost feels bigger, somehow, though you know that’s highly improbable.

He stays still once he’s bottomed out, lip tucked between his teeth as he inhales sharply. You can tell he’s struggling, already on the brink of cumming. You are, too.

“Baby, baby, you’re killing me,” he mumbles when he feels you clench around him. “Already got me so wound up.”

He’s practically panting as he begins to shallowly thrust his hips. It only takes him a couple of those, though, before he’s picking up his pace. He’s relentless in the punch of his hips, already having lost track of his ‘not fucking you’ mantra from before.

He’s too fucking pretty like this. Above you, inside you. His curls falling over his shoulders and his eyes blown black with lust. His hips slamming into yours, leaving your hands with nothing to grasp onto other than him.

The one hand he’s not using to hold himself above you stuffs itself between your bodies to press harsh shapes against your clit. Something you can’t make out, at first, not with how fuzzy he’s got you in the head right now. But then he’s mouthing along your jaw, mumbling as he goes. Mine, mine, mine.

Christ, he’s spelling out his name against your pussy with his fingers. You can feel it all now. Very clearly. E. D. D. I. E. Over and over again.

“Gonna cum, Eds,” you whimper at one of the E’s.

“Good,” he says, spelling his name faster. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, either, sweetheart.”

It’s not long after that that your orgasm is washing over you, clenching around his throbbing cock and sending him spiraling down the same path. It’s a sharp inhale on his part before you’re blurting out, “I love you.”

“Fuck, yeah. I love you, sweetheart,” he drops to rest his forehead against yours as he stills his movements. You can feel his spend mixing in with yours, deep inside of you as the drip down your walls to pool around the base of him.

He takes a second to just sit there, take in the atmosphere, before he’s pulling out of you with a hiss and dropping next to you on Steve’s, now ruined, duvet and tugging you under his arm.

“I really thought about going up to New York once or twice, you know. After you left,” he says after a while. “Bought a bus ticket once, and everything.”

He reaches over the side of the bed to grab his jacket, plucking one of his cigarettes and his zippo out of the pocket as he leaves you to mull over his comment. His touch remains constant, just barely leaving his palm pressed to your shoulder.

“Why didn’t you come?” you ask. It’s the obvious question, after all. Hanging there in the air between you as he lights up.

“Didn’t think you’d want to see me,” he shrugged. “You made that kinda clear, and, you know, I tend to run away from things that scare me.”

You don’t even have a good response for him, then. Too much running through your head, too many questions, too many answers. Far too many things you just need to get out rumbling around in your brain.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. We’ll figure it out, yeah? Now that you’re mine again.”

“I-”

There’s a string of profanities followed by an incessant knocking—no, banging—against the door that has your heart dropping down to your ass. Time to face the music.

“Hey, guys, what the fuck? In my bed?” you hear Steve yell from the other side, sending you into a fit of giggles as you curl yourself further into Eddie’s side.

tags-- @milkiangl @gods-and-monsterss @zeldaknight @ridestomars

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine

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equallyshaw · 3 months

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little lion | Luke hughes au! ↠ when luke and liona meet. - fic. ↠ au Masterlist!

warning: underage drinking. word count: 1.4k+

if her father knew whose highrise she was at, and what she was doing- he'd kill her. no, scratch that. he'd ship her to russia, have her grandmother lock her in the basement and never see the light of day ever again. to be frank, liona didn't even know how she ended up here to be quite honest. her and her group of friends since highschool had been invited to a party in newark at an off campus house and then the next thing she knew they were here, after getting a 'better invite'. her and her best friend rain, stood in the corner waiting for gavin and chris to come back with drinks for them. they saw them emerging from the kitchen, and liona sighed. "i cant believe chris scored an invite to a new jersey devils place!" rain whispered yelled and liona smirked. chris handed her a red solo cup, and gavin gave rain one. chris wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder, and sipped some of his liquid.

gavin and rain began to talk about whatever was happening at law school, while chris and liona just listened. they had no knowledge or the logistics of their degrees, so they just took in all of it as well as the drama. the two ended up rambling on their own while chris and liona looked at one another, before laughing. "you going to see andrei soon?" chris questioned, and kailey shrugged. "i don't know, my dad wants me to come home to visit and offered the Carolina game but i don't know." she said finishing her cup. "im getting another one." she said raising it a bit, and chris nodded. "if you're not back in 5 minutes, im coming and finding you!" he announced and she nodded with a small smile. she weaved in and out of some people, finding her way to the kitchen. she set her sights on a seltzer that was in the open bowl of ice, and snatched it quickly. "is that the last cherry?" she heard to her right, and she looked through the other ones before turning to the person.

she turned to the right seeing a tall boy, brunette curly hair and hazel eyes. she swallowed before speaking, "uh there's no-no more." she stuttered pulling some hair behind her ear. he nodded, "can you hand me a random one then?" he questioned and she nodded enthusiastically and grabbed him a random one. "thanks-" he waited for her to fill in, "uh liona." she responded holding her hand out, he took it softly "luke." he responded, and they let go of eachother's hand. "do you know dawson?" he questioned and her eyebrows crinkling gave him her answer. "who?" she questioned and he chuckled softly. "my teammate, who are you here with?" he questioned. "you play hockey?" she asked softly and he nodded. oh fuck, she thought. "um im best friends with chris." she said and luke made a face of recognition. "i know who that is, he's pretty cool." he said and she smiled widely. "oh yeah definitely wouldn't have kept him around all these years if he wasn't." she tried to joke but it fell flat. she looked at the ground before both of them tried to speak at the same time, "do you wanna-?" and "im gonna go." the two of them blushed and chuckled softly. "would you wanna go somewhere and talk?" he questioned, and she looked back towards her friend group. "ummm.." she trailed off turning back to look at luke. "we don't have to, was just curious!" he said and she shook her head. "id like that, i just need to go tell my friends." she said pointing behind her. he nodded and followed her back into the living room. "hey guys im gonna go -" chris cut her off by greeting luke, and doing a bro hug with each other. gavin also bro hugged him, with rain and luke getting introduced to one another. "were gonna go talk for a bit, ill let you know when im ready to go?" kailey confirmed, and gavin pushed her playfully while chris just nodded. the two walked off towards the small movie room that dawson had.

next thing they knew, it was 2 in the morning and the two of them had been talking for a few hours at this point. then she dropped a bomb on him, "you're dad is the alex ovechkin?" he asked eyes wide and wonder lighting up his face. she nodded softly, "ye-yeah." she said shrugging while looking down at her converse. "oh well, that's really neat! you said your parents are not together right? was the schedule too much and stuff?" he asked and she shook her head, "no uh, once she found out she was pregnant with me..they had already broken up and he ended up fleeing back to europe before getting some sense knocked into him. but they used to fight like cats and dogs, some of my earliest memories typically ended up in a fight. so yeah, they couldn't get along longer than a few hours." she hummed, biting her lip nervously. he nodded, "im sorry kai- i mean liona." he stuttered and the way he said her middle name, was heaven. "y'know nobody has ever called me just kai before...but i liked it." she hummed while her cheeks became even rosier. "kai, huh?" he questioned with a glint in his eye, as he grinned. she nodded, "liona kai ovechkin...a mouthful." she hummed shrugging. "its perfect." he responded. "my dad though just says lion or little lion, because apparently im the forthcoming of him or i guess the second coming..." she trailed off with her eyebrows creasing in deep thought. luke found it all quite adorable.

"lion..lioness... definitely suits you." he mused and she snickered. "well if you'd like i can give you permission to call me kai." she teased and his head cocked to the side a tad bit. the two were sitting next to each other on the couch, knees only a mere inch apart. both of them looked over at one another, and luke was debating if he should do what he wanted to do. and that was kissing her. while liona was telling herself he did not like her, he was just being nice.

luke began to lean in and a his left hand quickly found her chin, pulling her softly closer as he stopped a few inches from it. his gaze had been focused on her pink lips, and now they were gazing in to her brown eyes. almost as if to ask if it was ok. she nodded softly once, and his lips were on hers. his right hand came up to her cheek, as she pulled him in a bit by the neck. but luke being the gentleman that he was (because queen ellen raised him right) he did not go any further. they pulled apart, chests heaving a bit as their foreheads rested against each other's. liona was about to lean in again but he pulled his face away by a few inches, and he could see how much that hurt the girl. she stood up, pulled down her shirt a bit by smoothing it and cleared her throat.

"kai-" he said but she put her hand up, not meeting his gaze yet. she shook her head, "its fine. i totally get it, i don't know what i was thinking there for a second." she paused ruffling up her hair a bit, and looked up at him. "its fine, im not sure any guys would want to be with me anyways. so its fine, luke." she rambled before spinning on her heel, and heading out to find her friends. the group had dissipated just a bit. chris was the first one to recognize her from the small group he was in, and quickly made his way over. once he reached her, he saw tear in her eyes. his face and tone in full protection mode, "what happened?" he asked checking her body for any brusies or cuts. she shook her head, "id just like to leave." she said as her voice cracked. he nodded profusely, wrapping an arm around her back and leading her out of the highrise.

not without luke seeing the whole scene play out, and his heart breaking just a bit as they left with his arm around her.

oh lukey... will be doing a follow up to this (:

please like and reblog if you liked!

tags: @cuttergauthier

#luke hughes #luke hughes au #luke hughes x ovechkin #little lion au #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #new jeresy #new jersey devils #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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shuadotcom · 10 months

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Take Me Higher | CHS (M)

🍃Summary: Yeah, your first real party was completely different than you had imagined, but it was even better than you had hoped.

🍃Pairing: Stoner!Vernon x Stoner!Afab Reader

🍃Genres & AUs: Smut, a dash of fluff, friends to lovers au, pwp

🍃Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🍃Content/Warnings: Marijuana usage, mention of alcohol, profanity, protective sex, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, bathroom sex, sex while high (they’re both faded but they like each other and are consenting), multiple orgasms, dry-humping, allusion to big dick!vernon, reader has boobs and a vagina but no gendered terms are used for y/n

🍃Words: 6.1k

🍃Note: As a cannabis connoisseur myself, I love stoner!vernon fics and will read any and every single one so it was only a matter of time before I wrote my own. Truly it was a mighty need - especially blue hoodie Vernon because that's my favorite shoot of his. This is based off of a slightly true story of my first adult party years ago. Y/n has a much better partner and time than I did though 😂

I also listened to Rihanna's Anti album (aka the last album she'll give us 😭) a lot when writing this for whatever reason.

Thank you bestie @the-boy-meets-evil for being my beta!🫶🏽

Tagging the lovely @kthpurplesyou 😘

🍃Net Tag: @kflixnet

Tonight was turning out to be different than you ever thought it’d be. It’s your first-ever real party and it was turning out to be much less notable than you’d have imagined. Growing up, you had been a typical wallflower with a tiny group of friends that were as introverted as you, so you never knew people who threw parties, and you sure as hell weren’t “important enough” to get invited to them. Nothing much had changed from middle school and even through college.

It’s not until you’re well into your young adulthood that you receive your first party invitation. It comes from your oldest friend, Joshua, whom you recently reconnected with. You had practically grown up with him and when he and his family moved away, your communication eventually lessened with life and timezones in the way. It isn’t until you just so happen to move near him after college that you start hanging out again. He sends you an Instagram message after happening to see a location close to him that you tagged in a post.

You and Joshua easily pick your long-dormant friendship back up, getting along as perfectly as you had years ago. Your closeness and trust are quickly restored in him the more time you spend together. It’s why when he invites you to a party a friend of his is throwing, you jump at the chance.

Having never been to a party, you only had the tv shows and movies you watched to go off of as to what the atmosphere would be like. You imagine loud, deafening music, drunk people spread all over the poorly lit house, the air reeking of alcohol, and too many people.

In reality, the lights are on around the house as expected and the music that plays over a speaker in the living room is loud enough to get lost in while dancing but not so loud that you couldn’t hold a conversation. Instead of smelling like nothing but alcohol, the air only smelt of pizza and an artificial air freshener, with a hint of beer.

There are only a few handfuls of people milling about, most of whom Joshua and Jeonghan - his other close friend who came with the two of you - had long since introduced you to.

One of whom you’ve spent the most time with when you hang out with Joshua and his friends and are the most familiar with. You have a ton in common and always feel comfortable around him.

He also happens to be the friend that you have an embarrassingly huge crush on.

“Hey, Vernon!” Joshua calls his name as the three of you file down the basement stairs where it looks like most of the guests are.

Vernon turns from his conversation to find you three and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his smile widened when he made eye contact with you.

He says something to the guy he’s talking to before approaching you all.

“Hey, Josh, Jeonghan. Hi, Y/n. Thanks for coming.”

“Obviously we’d show up! I don’t think anyone has thrown a party just for fun in months. And I knew you wouldn’t mind if I brought Y/n. It’s baby’s first party!” Joshua throws his arm around your shoulders, bringing you forward from your spot nearly hiding behind him. You’re not too flustered that you can’t pinch him in the side for exposing you so willingly.

“Of course, I don’t mind!” Vernon rushes out, maybe even a little too loud. He clears his throat, breathing out an awkward laugh. “Anyway yeah, Seungkwan and Chan were feeling particularly social this weekend so I didn’t have much of a say but it’s cool.” Vernon scans the room, pointing out his two roommates across the room as he says their names. “Tonight won’t be anything crazy so don’t worry.” He says the last part to you, a sweet smile on his pretty lips.

As if they could tell they were being talked about, Seungkwan and Chan spot the group of you and are over in an instant, thanking you for coming and guiding you over to where all the snacks and drinks are while Vernon trails behind.

Truth be told, the whole party feels as if it’s a normal hang-out session with everyone. Sure some people get a little more drunk than usual and there’s more dancing and obnoxious singing than there typically is on any other Saturday night, but overall it’s nothing like the parties in movies. No one is swinging from the ceiling naked and drunk off their asses (unless you count Soonyoung shirtless and screaming at the top of his lungs to the karaoke song he’s doing, but no one is too concerned).

You’re even more grateful that you decided on jeans and a nicer shirt after agonizing over what to wear for days. Everyone was in the most normal clothes which took a lot of the pressure you had initially felt off of you. This includes Vernon, who was in jeans and an oversized, cozy-looking hoodie in the prettiest shade of baby blue. You could barely keep your eyes off of him, not that you really tried. He didn’t make it any easier, seeing how he hasn’t moved from your general vicinity all night.

Whether it was near the snack table, upstairs for a little while, or standing near Joshua and Jeonghan as they played beer pong, Vernon hasn’t been far, mostly talking to the two men or any other people around you, occasionally trying to bring you into the conversation. You’ve been doing your best to contribute, but your nerves about not knowing what to do with yourself, paired with the butterflies in your stomach that erupt whenever Vernon so much as looks at you, have you feeling a little out of your element.

At some point in the night, Jeonghan wanders off and Vernon disappears for a bit. You and Joshua are standing near the drinks, trying a few different shots and you hate them all. You nearly forgot how much you dislike the taste of most alcohol.

“So when are you going to tell Vernon you’re into him?” Joshua’s question is abrupt and he knows it. It’s why he snickers, watching your face contort as you choke on the shot of Patron you just knocked back, which you instantly regret.

“When am I going to what?!”

Joshua shrugs, taking a shot himself, his eyebrows only knitting a little.

“You heard me. And don’t act so surprised. Watching the two of you steal glances at each other all night and then act all shy as if you weren’t doing that was cute for the first five minutes, but enough is enough!” Joshua reaches for another shot, but you smack his hand, demanding why he thinks you like his friend. You haven’t told a soul about your crush on Vernon.

He’s about to say something else, but then Vernon shows up and your attention locks onto him.

“Hey guys, I’m heading outside if you want to come.” His eyes linger on yours and you momentarily forget how to speak so Joshua answers for you, letting him know that you’ll both be joining him.

It’s late and you’re not sure what time it is, but the sky is full of tiny stars, providing faint light to the group of people sitting outside. The small circle of people is sitting on lawn chairs surrounding a brightly shining lantern and a bong as they take turns passing it around. The three of you take the spots still open with you between Joshua and Vernon.

You didn’t forget what Joshua said inside, but put your interrogation on the back burner.

You’ve smoked weed before, in fact, you do so multiple days of the week. It’d been your chosen way to destress with friends before you moved and even more so now as you quickly learned that Vernon was the stoner friend in this group. If everyone was going to be hanging out and Vernon was there, there’d inevitably be edibles or a joint passed around. In your mind, you were practically perfect for each other.

The other partygoers greet you, and Vernon immediately takes the bong from the person next to him. Joshua falls into conversation with Wonwoo on his other side which gives you time to study Vernon.

He rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie, his forearms on full display. His movements are effortless as he leans forward to grab a pinch of weed from the grinder tin on the small table in front of you. His fingers, always looking so long, nimbly pack the bowl of the bong. He uses his middle finger to gently press it down as his eyebrows knit in concentration and his lips purse just a tiny bit.

Your eyes never leave him as he places his lips into the mouthpiece and uses his free hand to grab a lighter on the table. Vernon lights the bowl with skilled fingers, inhaling gently but confidently, then removes it. His eyelids flutter closed, as he inhales steadily, the smoke in the bong swirling as it fills his lungs.

Once he’s had his fill, he pulls the bong away, holding the smoke in his chest for a few seconds before his red lips part, the smoke seeping out of his mouth in rings and drifting up to the dark sky. A dopey smile plays on his lips as his eyes open again, meeting yours.

The entire act has you clenching as you watch him work, so in his element and looking absolutely breathtaking while doing so. But the look he’s giving you now has an undeniable effect on you and the want you so often feel for him.

Vernon tips the bong lightly in your direction, asking if you want a hit and you accept it. Instead of handing it to you, he holds the mouthpiece out to you, keeping it in his grasp as you lean forward and place your mouth on it. Vernon lights the bowl for you, holding eye contact as you start to let the smoke billow into your mouth, your chest already feeling warm as it fills you. He waits until your eyes close to remove the bowl, and you inhale sharply, your head already feeling lighter.

The bong is pulled away and you tip your head back, the smoke swirling inside of you before your lungs begin to burn and you open your mouth, releasing the smoke. You watch it float up and dissipate and don’t notice Vernon’s gaze still glued to you.

When you meet his eyes, neither of you moves, almost waiting to see what the other will say or do.

Joshua is the one to interrupt the moment, yelling at the two of you for not sharing. Vernon leans over you to pass the bong to Joshua’s waiting hands and he’s the closest to you he has been all evening. The smell of his sweet shampoo hits you first before the woodsy scent of his cologne follows, topped off with the faint smell of weed. It takes everything in you not to kiss him, but you hold it together until he sits back in his chair. He slouches into the uncomfortable fold-out chair, his legs spread wide in his worn jeans, practically begging you to crawl into his lap. Again, you don’t, but dear god how you want to.

Time ticks by as your small group stays outside, passing the bong around the circle every few minutes. You’ve quickly lost the conversation being held by the whole group since you and Vernon spend most of your time talking amongst yourselves. You don’t discuss anything in particular, just movies you’ve seen lately, new restaurants you’ve tried, and some of your favorite new musical releases. Conversation with Vernon always flows so naturally and easily. The two of you rarely broach awkward topics which is a miracle in itself.

At one point, the conversation shifts to you and your lack of experience in the party department.

“So, you’ve never been to any party ever? Like not even a birthday party?”

“Do birthday parties at laser tag places count when I was like ten?” Both of you giggle at that, feeling so much more at ease than you did earlier.

“I don’t think so. I mean like, in high school, you never even went to like a small house party?”

You shake your head as you sip on the soda you had dragged yourself back into the house to get earlier. “Nah. I wasn’t really popular in high school and my friends and I were all too nerdy to throw parties. We had anime-watch nights, but that’s about it.” Waving your hands dismissively you chuckle, but Vernon just shakes his head.

“I can’t believe that.”

“What, that I’m a massive nerd? I wouldn’t think that’d be a surprise since Joshua and I literally got into an argument about Full Metal Alchemist last weekend at Seungcheol’s.” A snort leaves Vernon when he laughs and you can’t help but notice how endearing it is.

“No, we already know you and Shua are weebs!” He keeps laughing even when you lightly push him at his teasing. “What I mean is, I can’t believe that you weren’t popular. I mean, look at you!” He gestures wildly to you, his eyes sweeping over you from head to toe.

“Oh, come on.”

“No, for real! You’re so damn funny and so fun to be around. You’re super sweet and kind and you’re always taking care of us. Plus you’re the hottest person I’ve ever met so like, how the fuck weren’t people all over you? You’re basically fucking perfect!” His words make you feel fuzzy all over, and you know it’s not just the weed.

“Thank you, Vernon,” you whisper, averting your attention to your drink. Hearing Vernon call you hot and “fucking perfect” makes you squeeze your thighs together. Something about him complimenting you so blatantly has you weak in the knees. With your earlier stress gone and feeling a little more carefree, you decide it’s now or never. “I think all of that about you too,” you mumble under your breath.

At first, you’re not sure if he hears you so you dart your eyes over to him. Vernon is staring at you, blinking slowly and you can almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh wow,” he finally breathes out. “Really?”

Oh. He did hear you.

“Yeah.” You admit. It’s already out there so you may as well just stand by it.

Vernon’s brain looks as though it’s working overtime as he stares at you blankly. Your stomach does the most violent of flips as you wait for what comes next, unsure of what you should say.

Thankfully, Joshua barges into the conversation, disrupting the tension that hung between you and Vernon.

“Hey, Y/n, I’m tired. I’m gonna find Jeonghan and head home. You wanna share an Uber? Jeonghan’ll probably crash at my place and you can too. Or we’ll put your address in as a stop.”

“Uh…” Do you want to leave now? You just kind-of, sort-of, maybe confessed your feelings to Vernon. But, he also kind-of, sort-of maybe did the same.

If you leave now, will he pretend none of this happened the next time you see him again? Will he blame the weed for his words that he possibly didn’t mean? Does he want you to stay and decide what to do next together?

“Y/n mentioned staying behind for a while longer. Right?” Vernon decides for you, tilting his head and looking back at you, unmoving as he waits for you to verify.

“Oh, yeah I’m gonna stay a little longer.”

Joshua narrows his eyes at you, scanning your face for something that may contradict your words. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good here with Vernon.” Joshua seems to inspect you both, the seconds dragging on before he finally decides that he accepts what you’re saying.

“Okay, but I better get a text from you later when you’re going home and when you get there. Got it?”

“Promise!”

Joshua throws another look at Vernon. “Everybody better stay safe.” There’s something else behind Joshua’s demand and you’re not sure how exactly to take it.

You and Vernon watch him go before the earlier silence you shared is back. It hangs in the air for what feels to you like an eternity but is more likely only a few seconds.

“You wanna, uh, go upstairs?”

“Yes!” Vernon stumbles over his words when he asks you, but you don’t when you answer him. He’s barely able to get the last word out before you’re accepting his offer. You don’t care where he wants to take you because you’ll go wherever with him.

Vernon slowly stands, reaching for your hand which you give him without a second thought. He leads you back inside the house, upstairs, and to one of the bathrooms in the hall.

“Um, my room’s not clean. I didn’t really expect anyone would be in my room besides me so…” Vernon confesses rather sheepishly when the door is shut behind you. “But, Seungkwan made us clean all the common areas so I promise this room is clean.” A nervous chuckle leaves him, averting his eyes from you.

“That’s okay,” you admit. And it is. Your romantic feelings for Vernon aside (and yes it is a lot of feelings), you want him so badly. You yearn to kiss him, touch him, and let him fuck you, no matter where it happens. Knowing that maybe your feelings aren’t unrequited only makes you want him even more. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Vernon smiles at you, his mouth taking the shape of a heart that has your actual heart beating wildly. He approaches you almost cautiously, pressing you against the bathroom door.

“Are you sure you want this?” His question is a whisper as he’s practically nose to nose with you.

“Of course.”

“We can stop whenever you want to. If you get uncomfortable or change your mind about me or anything like that just say the word.”

“Vernon, I want to be here, I promise. Now kiss me, please.”

And kiss you he does. Vernon dips his head to close the gap between you. His lips are a little chapped as they move against yours, but you don’t mind at all. Your hands ball themselves in the front of his hoodie while he cups your face and kisses you hard. His tongue prods at your lips and you open immediately, moaning as the muscle slips inside your mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, suckling at it and pulling another desperate sound from you. The urgency behind his movements is evident, as his hips meet yours, his body flush against you.

It’s shallow at first and barely noticeable but when you do feel it - Vernon grinding against you - you instantly react, meeting his small thrusts.

When his clothed erection, already hard and straining through his jeans, presses against your pelvis, he makes a deep, pleased hum in his throat. Even through his clothes, you can feel just how big Vernon is. More wetness pools between your legs, already making your underwear feel uncomfortable and sticky.

Vernon continues to hump against you, his kisses becoming more frantic and his hands have long since started wandering on you. His big hands cradle your hips, sliding down the tops of your thighs, then around you to grab a handful of your ass. He yanks you into him, his hips continuing to rut against you.

The sheer act of Vernon dry-humping you like a man truly crazy with lust only makes you want him more. You feel yourself clench around nothing, the friction of Vernon’s hard-on nudging so close to where you need him the most. He has to pull away from your mouth finally, gasping for air, but his hips don’t falter.

“Vernon…please, I need more.”

“M-more?”

“More. Need more.” Your words come out as more of a whine when he squeezes your ass again.

“More of me?”

“Please!”

“Fuck, yeah. Okay.”

He looks genuinely forlorn at the thought of stopping his movements, but he does, lightly panting from his exertion.

Your hands leave the crumpled fabric of his hoodie and snake down to his waist, slipping your hands under the hem. Vernon lets you undress him and then he does the same to you, pulling off piece by piece, tossing each article away without so much as a second thought and drinking in the sight of one another as you go.

Vernon is back on you once you’re both naked, shoving your bodies together as he kisses you again. He cups your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles over your pert nipples. You moan into Vernon’s mouth, letting him work your sensitive buds, the sensation making you rub your thighs together. When your knee brushes Vernon’s hard cock, he nearly chokes. His hands knead at your plush skin as his lips trace their way from your lips to your neck.

Vernon’s teeth nip at your skin and your hands float up to grab at his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, keeping him at your most sensitive spot. Your knees nearly buckle when he starts to suck harshly and his hands continue their work on your tits.

Before you know what’s next, one of Vernon’s hands is inching down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. With a step out to the side, you spread your thighs to give him access. A single, long digit swipes at your already sopping folds.

He eases his finger into your hole, your warmth greedily sucking him. Vernon begins pumping his finger in and out of you as he continues marking your neck, mumbling about how warm you are and how wet you feel. Your mind starts to turn to mush, your hands scrambling to grasp onto any part of Vernon you can. It happens to be his biceps - those of which are surprisingly firm. You’ve never seen him go to the gym or talk about working out, but clearly he’s doing something. The muscles ripple as he pistons his finger in and out, soon adding a second which slides in with no resistance.

His hot, rock-hard length brushes against your thigh and you reach down with the hand not clutching his arm for dear life, and wrap your fingers around his cock.

Vernon jumps, hissing through his teeth as you slowly jerk him off. Your thumb rubs over his tip, the precum oozing out and helping your hand glide over him.

His lips find yours again, the kiss bruising and messy as he finger fucks you faster and the squelching sounds you make around him echo off of the tile. His fingers scissor in you, working you open for him and when he grazes that soft, spongy spot inside of you, your legs nearly give out.

He manages to keep you upright with his other arm locked around your waist. “You okay?” His voice is gruff, much deeper than it was earlier and you can feel more wetness seep out and around his fingers.

“I’m s-so close, Vern, fuck.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

The sentence is so simple but it has you clenching around his digits so hard that you hold your breath.

“Mmhmm!” you can’t manage words, only sounds, but he doesn’t ask again, instead quickening his pace. Doing your best to match his speed, you twist your wrist, letting Vernon cant his hips forward and fuck into your hand. You whimper into each other’s mouths, the only focus is each other. The only thing either of you see and think about is the other.

Vernon eventually breaks the kiss and bends down to draw one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking at the bud before sucking on it hard enough to hurt in the best way. The twinge of pain shoots straight to your belly, the tension finally snapping.

When you cum, you throw your head back, hitting the bathroom door with a loud ‘thunk!’ and your eyes squeeze shut so tightly that stars swim in the darkness of your closed lids “Fuck!” You choke out, your knees finally giving up on keeping you upright as you let go of Vernon’s cock to grab a hold of his other arm.

Your body sags against his bare chest. He has to prop you back against the door while he helps you ride out your orgasm. The image of you like this, naked and sweaty and crying out for him on his fingers will live in his mind rent-free until the day he dies.

When he finally slips out of you, he can’t help but stare in awe at your juices that drip down his fingers. His first impulse is to shove them into his mouth which he does eagerly, sucking and savoring the flavor of you.

Vernon’s eyes roll back and you watch the entire thing, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Can I eat you out? If that’s okay with you of course.” Vernon’s eyes are wide as he meets yours, half-afraid that you’ll say no. He’ll respect you of course, but he’ll also daydream forever about the way just the small sampling of you tasted on his tongue.

Luckily, for both of you, you want nothing more than to feel Vernon’s kiss-swollen lips on your cunt.

“Please!” You shamelessly beg, droopy eyes widening at his request.

He leads you to the bathroom counter and helps you clumsily clamber up onto it. Both of you are wobbly and clumsy from the weed, but you make it without injury. Vernon’s on his knees instantly, wide hands prying your legs open, pussy on full display.

“Holy shit, you’re so wet!”

“Vernon!” You cover your face in embarrassment, feeling self-conscious.

“Like, your pussy is fucking shimmering in the light, baby.” His face is right in front of your heat, the proximity making your hole flutter right in front of his eyes. “Fucking hell I just watched your pussy squeeze. I’m going to pass out.”

“Vernon, fucking touch me already, please! I need you so bad!” His heavy eyes meet yours, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Much like earlier, he didn’t need you to tell him again as his eyes focus on you and he dips his head between your legs.

Vernon’s tongue immediately finds your clit, the muscle flicking forcefully, sending a jolt through you. Shaky fingers rake through Vernon’s hair and grip the brunette locks for support as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it in the way you need.

“Fuck! Vernon, yes!” Your hips start to buck up into his face when he changes direction and dips his tongue into your pussy, groaning low in his throat as he does.

“Mmph! So good.” Vernon drawls, his words muffled as he tongue fucks you, slurping your wetness as he does.

His tongue darts in and out of you, his nose brushing your clit every time you lift your hips. Vernon makes out with your cunt, the lewd sounds alone are enough to have you hurdling to your end and Vernon’s grunt reverberating through your body is what ultimately has you cumming.

“Vernon!” His name erupts from your mouth in a shriek, your thighs clamping around his head. Your whole body feels as if it’s on fire, as you arch almost painfully into him. You stay that way for what feels like minutes, hips still pushed towards him as you gasp and Vernon continues to lazily lick at you.

The world could crumble around you at this very moment and you don’t think you’d care.

That was undisputedly the best head you’ve ever gotten.

Vernon chuckles from between your thighs, finally coming up for air.

“Best head ever huh?” His nose all the way to his chin shines with your juices as he gives you a lopsided grin.

You hadn’t even realized you said your last thoughts out loud. Only a small part of you feels embarrassed. The rest of you only focuses on Vernon as he stands up, his cock red and angry as it rests against his stomach.

“Can - can we do it on the floor? My legs feel like cooked pasta right now and I can’t stay upright.” His expression is sullen as he says this, but you can only giggle at how cute he looks, pouting at you, cradling his very thick, very distracting dick.

“You can fuck me wherever you want as long as you do it.”

Vernon’s eyes widen, blinking a few times as if your words fluster him, but he quickly snaps out of it, helping you off the counter. He grabs a bath towel hanging on the rack nearby and spreads it out on the floor before helping lay you on it. He promises that it’s clean, but you shrug his worries away. Towel or not, at this very moment all you want is Vernon to fuck you even more stupid than the weed has made you, and you don’t care what he does it on.

With fumbling hands, Vernon reaches for his pants and digs his wallet out in search of a condom. When he finds it, he opens and rolls the rubber on, hands trembling as he goes.

He scurries back over to you, easily taking his place between your legs. He momentarily forgets what he’s doing when he catches sight of your still-sopping folds and you have to call his name to get his attention. His eyes dart up to look at you, fixating on your heaving chest and bottom lip pulled tight between your teeth, hair sprawled out around your head, eyes red and shiny, staring right back at him.

You look straight out of all of the late-night fantasies he’s had about you and you don’t even know it.

Vernon’s cock feels as big as it looks when he finally eases inside of you, your legs quivering along the way. His hands hook under your knees, keeping you open until he buries himself balls-deep into your pussy.

The two of you share a moan, your voices harmonizing in pleasure at finally filling you and being full by him. He takes a moment before he thrusts forward, gauging your reaction. A scrunch of your brow and a nod to him lets him know to move and he anchors himself by gripping your thighs as he starts to snap his hips.

A high-pitched yelp leaves you, echoing in the room along with the wet sounds of your arousal, the sound only intensifying as Vernon starts to fuck you with more urgency.

“Holy shit, Y/n. You feel fucking incredible.” He pants out as he drives his hips into yours, sweat already beading at his hairline.

Your shaky hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders and you pull him closer. “S-so do you…” Vernon stumbles, but catches himself, planting his hands on the sides of your head. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you do your best to lift your hips with each thrust, meeting Vernon’s momentum as he fucks into you.

Through the condom, you can still feel the most prominent veins on his cock, the friction gliding against your walls, your eyes crossing at the pleasure. The bathroom floor isn’t where you imagined your first time with him being, although you never thought that your first time with him would even happen. Your crush on him was one you kept close to you and in your mind, it wouldn’t be reciprocated.

That thought was obviously cast aside if the way his soft brown eyes, rimmed with scarlet, are looking down at you, even as his lips press together in concentration with each drive of his body jolting yours and almost pushing you across the floor.

Even with THC coursing through his system and making every other movement so slow, Vernon is quick and determined as he rocks into you, your soft, gummy walls squeezing him harder the faster he fucks into you at a bruising pace.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Vernon rasps out between grunts.

“You’re f-fucking the last of my brain cells out of m-me and you wanna be romantic?” You manage a laugh, even if it gets cut off with a sob as soon as Vernon’s cockhead bumps into your g-spot.

“I can’t help it. You make me wanna be romantic.” His words are accentuated with a breathy groan - the sentence a stark contrast to the way he pummels your cunt.

Tears well in your eyes, and you blame the weed for bringing emotions out of you. Raising your head as best as you can, you meet his lips in what is meant to be a sweet kiss, even if it’s more teeth than anything, but neither of you minds.

You lay back and settle when you can’t keep yourself up anymore and Vernon stays close to your face as he pivots his hips, shoving his hand between your bodies. It takes him a second, but he eventually finds your clit, eliciting a shriek from you.

The pace that Vernon finds with both his hips and his fingers has your orgasm right on the cusp, your body already sensitive from earlier.

“V-Vernon!”

“Say my real name,” he wheezes desperately.

“Hansol! Fuck, so good. ‘M gonna cum! So close…” His real name rolls off of your tongue just as easily as his nickname does, if not easier.

His fingers pinch at your clit between pressing against it as his other hand supports most of his weight, his sweaty forehead resting against yours.

“Cum for me again, baby. Wanna see you cum just for me.” His voice is like honey, dripping all over you, and setting your heart and body ablaze.

You reach your high then, a needy cry of his name exploding from you, your body going stiff. Wave after wave rushes through you like an inferno, your blood rushing to your head. Through the ringing in your ears, you hear Hansol actually growl from above you, your name, and a string of curses sounding like a chant coming from him.

His mouth hangs open again as his hips stutter, riding out his orgasm until he lets out a loud huff. Instinctively, you reach your hand up, running it through Hansol’s damp strands. His eyes slip close, pushing his head into your hand more, relishing in the way your nails graze his scalp.

The air is calm and full of so much adoration even as you both harshly huff and puff, catching your breath. You relish this moment with Hansol, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with him.

The sound of his stomach grumbling cuts through the moment. “Sorry,” he snorts, causing both of you to break into a fit of laughter.

“Wanna go back downstairs and get some pizza?” You ask him as he finally moves off of you and you peel yourself up from the floor. Vernon has to help you stand, but to be fair, both of you are unsteady as you stand again.

“Hell yeah. Would you wanna bring it back up to my room? I can clean up really quickly and you can stay over. I have a bowl if you wanna smoke more. But only if you want to! You can say no and I can stay with you until a rideshare gets here.” The nervousness in his question is obvious as he pulls his clothes back on, having to concentrate on getting both legs in his jeans without falling over.

“Of course, I’ll stay over. And don’t worry about the mess. As long as there’s room in the bed for us, the food, and to smoke it doesn’t matter to me, Hansol.” You smile to yourself once you’re dressed, loving the way his real name sounds to your ears. You want to only call him Hansol from here on out.

His head snaps up and he fixes you with a wide-eyed look once his hoodie is back on. “Really?”

You nod at him, laughing at his expression - the same incredulous look he’s given you all night. Closing the small distance between the two of you, you place a gentle kiss on his lips, enjoying the way he instantly melts into you.

Yeah, your first real party was completely different than you had imagined, but it was even better than you had hoped.

Seventeen masterlist | All Masterlists

396 notes · View notes

luwritesomething · 1 year

Note

HEY I KNOW YOUR WORKING IN MY OTHER REQUEST RN BUT HEADCANNONS ON WHAT DATING RANDY WOULD LOOK LIKE KINDA LIKE AN EXTENSION ON THE CUDDLING HEADCANNONS YOU JUST DID 🤩🤩🤩🤩

Randy Meeks Heacanons: Dating Randy would include.

Warnings: Swearing lol, probably typos or bad constructed english

Edited?: Like always, no.

Reader's pronouns: Not stated, gender neautral.

Summary: Dating Randy headcanons!!

Author's note: RANDYYYYYYYYYYYY not enough works for him, so i gotta keep up with his requests. also kudos to alex for requesting constantly with great ideas :) i had so much fun making these.

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

a lot of forehead kisses

cheek kisses too

he just looks like the type. he's gotta go to class? have a cheek kiss. you're meeting up? cheek kiss. you made him laugh? cheek kiss. going to sleep? cheek kiss. whatever, cheek kiss.

him being rather shy at the beginning of your relationship, but growing bolder as the time passes.

holding hands!!!! he loves holding hands. he actually blushed the first time you guys held hands, he's that cute.

getting along with his little sister martha!!! even teaming up against him with her lmao.

lots of dates, and a lot around getting food/eating/cooking/going to restaurants.

but i'm also not gonna lie, movies and dates are a big deal.

movie marathons! movie nights! going to the theater!

cuddling with randy (headcanons here)

you better not like guilty pleasure movies too much because if he has to cinematically roast you HE WILL.

learning a lot about movies and cinematography because he doesn't shut the fuck up.

but it's not like you want him to shut up like, ever.

competing to see who can insult people more 'culturally'

(like homo-repressed mama's boy, creepy tarantino film student, leatherface, pussy ass-wet-rag)

he likes dancing with you and will do so with absolutely every excuse he can think of.

the kind to get drunk, flirt with you and get really sad when you tell him you have a very loving boyfriend (he doesn't realize that's him)

really sweet

if he ever meets your parents, he'll most probably win them over. he's still walking on eggshells around them.

compliments you/what you're wearing every single day.

even if it's just your socks, he always says something nice to you.

he's so greatful to have you.

the type to walk out of arguments when things get heated, before any of you can say anything you'd regret.

he adores you, he could listen to every single thing you say for the rest of his life.

randy doesn't care if you're just talking about your favorite type of pen, he'll listen like you're trusting him with the secrets of the universe.

he remembers a lot of little details because of this.

call him 'pretty boy' and he'll be yours forever.

not a cheater :) (THE BARE MINIMUM---)

he rarely ever lies to you. he'd let you go down to the basement with him in a horror movie, and that's a shit lot of trust.

quotes different romantic dialogues from different movies, but it's always at the most unexpected/worst timing.

he's so goofy i love him.

always making sure you're okay, no matter where you at. it doesn't have to be a frat party for him to worry about your well-being

randy walks you everywhere, no matter how impractical that can be.

especially at night. he doesn't want you to go out alone when it's dark.

overall, he's a really good boyfriend, although i'm not getting involved with the angsty stuff.

362 notes · View notes

eddiemunsonssoulmate · 2 years

Note

You are an amazing writer and I absolutely adore your Eddie fics!

I am obsessed with the idea of the reader being Dustin's sister, so can you write one where he asks her to take the Hellfire club to the pool (her and Eddie just started secretly dating) and Eddie finds out she has a hidden tattoo (on her back or somewhere he wouldn't normally look but can be seen in a swimsuit) and thinks it's hot af?

Sure thing, here you go. I hope you like it :) Sorry it took so long haha

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Also on: AO3

“Are you really going to wear that?” Dustin asked you as he looked at your clothes from the door.

“Why not?” You asked right back at your little brother, turning around to him with a lifted eyebrow.

“I don’t know. Looks rather…” He trailed off for a moment and you crossed your arms over your chest. “You know what, I’m sure it will look great on you.”

He gave you a toothless grin and you shook your head with a small smile. The Hellfire Club was supposed to meet up at the pool, he was already ready and dressed up while you were still trying to figure out what to wear.

Normally you wouldn’t stress about it but this time, it was special. Eddie and you had just started dating a week ago and this would be the first time he’d see you in a swimsuit. A rather skimpy bikini, if you were honest to yourself. You wanted to impress him, maybe rile him up a bit, see how he would react.

Just the thought made you grin. Would he try to ignore how you looked? Would he be jealous of some other guys looking at you? It was really exciting to think about it.

“We’re going to be late if you keep looking at the mirror, you know.” Dustin once again piped up and you groaned. He was right but you really weren’t sure. The short tank top and short jeans looked good enough, the bikini already under those clothes but it still felt a little off.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you sighed, admitting you won’t be able to fix whatever was bothering you. Dustin laughed a little before he made his way outside. You grabbed your back, following him and getting into the car, being the driver once again.

The two of you jammed a little together in the car as you always did before arriving at the pool. It was rather empty for now because it was cloudy and windy but you were convinced in two hours it would be packed inside.

Both of you quickly made their way inside, already spotting Eddie, Gareth and Mike in a rather secluded area.

“Hey there,” you said with a small wave as you arrived. As soon as Eddie saw you, he started to smile brightly at you, trying to be as subtle as possible about his excitement to finally see you.

Thing was, the two of you were dating but no one knew, not even your brother. For now it was just the two of you, wanting to see where all of this would go before anyone would start to meddle in your business.

“Welcome to the first time in forever the Hellfire Club goes to the pool, I’d rather be in a stinky basement,” Eddie said with a dramatic voice and Gareth laughed.

“I don’t know man, have we ever been to the pool as a club event?” Gareth asked and Eddie shook his head.

“No, but those poor freshmen begged me and were supported by that lady in front of us, how am I supposed to say no?” Eddie looked at him, then at Mike and Eddie and then at you, the smile still there.

You placed your blanket down next to them, making sure you sat close to Eddie while Dustin already seated himself next to Mike.

“Did you just call my sister a lady? She might be a lot but for sure not that,” Dustin said with a chuckle and you glared at him.

“Shut it,” you shot at him, followed by a small smirk. You couldn’t really be mad at him. Then you turned back to Eddie, smiling at him. “Where’s the rest?”

Eddie shrugged, laying down on his blanket. “Who knows. They’ll either arrive or not.” He then turned his head toward you, lowering his voice. “The most important person is here anyway.” With a wink he then closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his skin.

He might pretend he hated it here but he didn’t hate it as much with you here.

“We’re going to test the waters,” Mike said and got up with Dustin.

“I’ll come, making sure you two babies don’t drown,” Gareth said with a laugh as he got up, following the other two.

“Ah, peaceful,” Eddie exclaimed as the others were gone and he sat up, putting a hand on your leg, caressing it slightly.

“You were really just waiting for them to leave, eh?” You asked and there was the urge to just kiss him. Maybe later, not now in public.

You got up, pulling the shirt over your head and shrugging off your shorts, only leaving you in your bikini.

“Absolutely. If it was my choice I’d never share a moment with anyone else but you,” he muttered as he watched you undress. “And man, I wish I had you to myself right now.”

A soft chuckle left your mouth at his words and you spun around for him, hoping he liked what he saw.

“Whoa, hold up. What was that?” He grabbed your wrist and pulled at it slightly, making you turn around again.

You weren’t sure what he meant when it dawned on you. The tattoo.

“You’ve got a fucking tattoo and didn’t tell me?” He asked, looking at you with big eyes.

“You never asked,” you answered with a chuckle and he groaned.

“It looks fucking metal.” He let go of your wrist, sitting up a little straighter before he let his fingers run over the tattoo at your lower back. “What are those? Bats? Alienbats?”

You laughed and then shrugged. “Bats for sure. The artist called them monster bats,” you explained.

His fingers glided over the torn wings of the beasts, their long tails and it made you shiver.

“That’s hot as shit, I hope you know that,” he muttered and then got up, grabbing your waist to turn you around to face him. “I want to see it more often.”

“I’m sure you will,” you whispered and you felt heat rising up inside of you.

“The water is amazing, you should get in!” Dustin suddenly said as he almost jumped out of the bush next to you, dripping with water.

Eddie and you quickly took a step back, trying to look as unsuspicious as possible.

“You know what, cooling down sounds amazing right now,” Eddie said and you noticed the way he walked was a little awkward.

It made you laugh which caused him to glare at you with a playful smile around his lips. He would for sure see the tattoo again later that night.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #henderson!reader

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nabinochu · 6 months

Text

I'm Fine

. ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

Y'all ever wish you had a Mammon irl to tell you it's all gonna be ok? Bc I sure as hell do. More comfort, are we surprised? I swear I have other ideas brewing that aren't just Sad™ lol

Characters: Mammon (Obey Me)

Genre: Hurt/ Comfort.

Warnings: Talk of depression/ dealing with mental illness. Slight swearing.

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I can feel Mammon's presence behind me. He shuffles from one foot to the other, unsure how to approach until he seemingly can't hold back anymore.

"Hey, ya ok?

I can't break out of my trance, answering on autopilot.

"Yeah, m'fine."

I hear him grumble as he takes a couple of steps closer.

"Don't believe ya."

"M'fine."

"No. Ya ain't." He's standing next to me now. I can feel his concerned eyes bore into the side of me.

"What makes you say that?" I can't bring myself to look at him, knowing that if I do, I'll break immediately.

"Well, for starters, how long y've been brewin' an' stirrin' that coffee. Second, I've lost count of how many cups y've had today." He puts his hand over mine to stop me stirring the over-brewed coffee. I jump a little at the sudden contact.

"Third, we've barely been talkin'. All yer messages are super dry. And lastly," Mammon cups my face and makes me look at him. His eyes soften, though I don't miss how his expression falls a little when he takes me in.

"Those bags under yer eyes are lookin' damn heavy recently."

My breath hitches in my throat. Like a crooked hand creeping higher and higher and closing around my neck, I feel the lump forming and tightening. My eyes sting as it gets harder and harder not to crumble in Mammon's warmth. I try to stutter out some words, some hollow excuse to maintain the facade and ensure he wouldn't worry. But it's too late for that. I know he sees right through me. My chest burns. I can't find my breath. My eyes are everywhere except on Mammon as I try to fight the storm swirling in the pit of my stomach.

Pathetic. I tell myself. Weak. Burdensome. The brothers don't even like y-

"Hey! Look at me." Mammon grasps my shoulders and leans down to meet my eyes as if he could read my thoughts. "Doncha know? I love ya. So much."

A choked sob finally bubbles painfully from my throat, and my vision blurs with tears.

Mammon firmly pulls me to his chest, the front of his shirt becoming soaked instantly. I hear his heart thrumming against his chest, clearly fighting his nerves for my sake.

"Let it out. M'here." He sways us gently.

"It's ok if things're bad right now. But ya don't have to struggle alone. Let me carry some of the weight, kay? The Great Mammon is strong enough."

We stayed like this for some time until I had finally cried all I could. I feel numb, my head throbs. But I feel safe in Mammon's arms.

He shifts to rest his chin on top of my head.

"Wanna talk 'bout it?"

I think for a moment, trying to find my words. My voice is hoarse, barely a whisper.

"Sometimes, I just feel so sad. I can't explain it or describe it." I grip the material of his shirt.

"I'll be doing just fine. Then, the second I become aware that I'm doing fine, the darkness creeps back in. Sometimes, there are triggers. Other times, there aren't. I wish it made sense."

I feel Mammon's hand tracing patterns on my back as he listens.

"And sometimes, I think this is it; I've finally hit rock bottom. But then I find out there's a fucking basement."

He doesn't speak for a moment, seemingly searching his mind for the right thing to say.

"I'm....so sorry." He settles, letting out a breath he had been holding. "I wish I could take that pain away from ya."

I snake my arms around his waist and breathe in his scent. I turn my face to place a gentle kiss on his heart.

"You already do just by being around." I breathe. "You mean so much to me, Mams. More than you know. I can't imagine my life without you now." I croak out.

I feel him tense at my show of affection. He pulls me in tighter as if I would get snatched away from him if he let go, even for a second.

"W-well, of course! I'm yer first, after all!"

He takes a moment to gather himself and then speaks with sincerity.

"Yer my human. My one and only. I don't want to lose ya."

His voice becomes small.

"Can't lose ya."

"I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Nothin' to apologise for." He shakes his head. "Just stick around, yeah?" He pulls back just enough to meet my puffy eyes once more. I nod in agreement. He seems to consider something for a second, not entirely satisfied.

"Pinky Promise?" He holds his hand up to me, little finger extended.

I can't help the small smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. Ah yes, the Avatar of Greed, the second strongest of the seven lords of the Devildom, who deals in pinky promises. My heart squeezes at the sight of the demon before me. My darkness seems to ease in this moment as I wrap my pinky tightly around his.

"Pinky Promise."

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morganalatina21 · 1 year

Text

Manipulating Death: Chapter Three

(Not my gif)

Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

Warnings: major trigger warning for James and Lily death (I cried while writing, that's why its shorter), angst, tiny fluffy and my trash writing

a/n: This chapter is shorter than the previous ones bc tumblr deleted it for some reason and I had to rewrite it and I just got off an exam so please be patient with me :))

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

Chapter One Chapter Two

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"You three aren't even trying to be discreet." The girl mocked, rising from the basement, looking at the wizards.

Harry was sitting on the kitchen, blowing on an empty cup without even noticing.

Sirius had grabbed one book from the couch but was holding it upside down, moving his hand along his beard, pretending to be interested.

Remus was the only one unconspicuous, sitting down and eating the last piece of pie left, however his abnormally straight back gave him away.

The older Black pretended to be surprised by the two of them appearing, throwing his hands up. "Oh hey! Look Moony if it isn't the undead pair."

"Hi Sirius." Y/n said, a small smile appearing on her lips. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Sirius' smile became sad, tears glowing in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheek. It came down on him, Y/n was alive this whole time.

One of the things he most blamed himself for years on end, edging him to fall into complete madness. Thinking that not only he was responsible for his best friend's death, but his niece too.

An innocent baby, with so much to experience, and she had completely been erased from existence.

And to think she was most attached to James hurted him even more.

But then, there she was. Breathing, alive, still standing after all those years.

And standing next to her, was his brother. The one that died without a second chance, thinking Sirius hated him.

It was almost everything he ever asked for, but it's better than it was before.

"I guess I should be thanking you for saving my life." He stated, approaching her and opening his arms, to which she happily accepted and hugged him back. "And thank you for saving my brother." He whispered on her ear, making her hum.

They let go and Sirius looked at the man standing by her.

The Black Brothers were never found of physical affection, for years the only touch they had were one another's.

"Reggie?" Y/n called, and Sirius thought he'd hex the girl, never really liking nicknames, but the man only looked at her. "Come on." She spoked gently, taking a step back.

The younger Black breathed in deeply, before closing his eyes and pulling his brother into a tight hug.

All air was pushed out Sirius' lungs, eyes open wide and looking at the girl in shock.

He held strongly to his younger brother, closing his eyes too and smiling.

He was back.

Alive.

Breathing.

And willing to be his brother once again.

"Come here you two." Y/n whispered, holding her arms out to the wizards.

Harry hurried to her, burying his face on her neck and pulling her closer. Remus hugged her other side, one hand on the girl's head, lightly petting her, and the other one in the boy's shoulder.

She could her how Harry would sniff quietly and his breath was shaking, while Lupin sighed deeply, as if one massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"It's so nice!" She mumbled, lying her head against her brother's and smiling at her godfather. "I always wanted to meet you."

"And I know you guys have a lot of questions." She stated, seeing Regulus and Sirius loose their hug and look at each other awkwardly. "So why don't we go into the living room?"

Remus led the way, Harry and Y/n right behind him in a side hug because they didn't wanted to let go of each other. And the Black Brothers last, exchanging gazes like they used to do on family meetings.

The werewolf sat on a chair, the Potters sitting on the opposite side, in a tizzy couch, leaving a two-seats couch for the Blacks.

Harry kept his hands to himself, however left his knee touch his sister's, wanting some contact, desesperatly trying to make sure she was real.

"I think I'll start." Lupin coughed, looking at Y/n. "How are you alive?"

Sirius perked up at that, being way too obvious when leaning in.

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It was October 31st. Halloween.

Despite keeping a low profile and keep hiding, the Potters where trying to make the best out the holiday.

Harry was in a pumpkin costume Remus gotten for him the second year in a row, it was beginning to look a little tight and Lily wanted to see him one last time in that bright orange outfit.

Y/n was wearing a princess dress, red and gold like gryffindor's colors and a silver tiara on her head.

"Can you believe it's been a year?"

"I know. It feels like yesterday when they were coming out of me." Lily smiled, picking the boy up, his eyes glossy and eyelids becoming heavier and heavier.

"Can you imagine when they start talking?" James asked, a huge smile looking at his daughter. "Like, actually talking instead of just 'mama'."

"Y/n already is, remember? She said 'moon' when she saw Remus."

"Please don't remind me of that." He answered. "That kind of betrayal I can't forgive."

"I can't imagine you not forgiving someone."

James thought about it. Of course he could forgive his own daughter, but he wondered if there was something he would never forgive, but all possibilities were so unreal he didn't even bothered.

"If one of them don't start saying 'daddy' soon, you'll see." He joked, seeing Lily disappear on the stairs to put Harry to bed.

Y/n always stood up a little later than her brother, watching James make colors and feathers appear with his wand.

Everybody knew she favored her father over Lily, but Harry never fell asleep on James' arms, so it was quite balanced.

"Y'know, it's not hard to say it." He started, sitting on the floor with her. "Come on, do it. 'Da-da'." He tried, but the girl was busy trying to chew her tiara. "No, that's not for eating. Come on, 'da-ddy'. Still no? What about 'pa-pa', huh? Oh please, even one syllable I'll accept. Anything!"

"Bodah!" She giggled, bouncing her little feet.

"Oh come on!" He groaned, smile big on his face. "I'm glad you love your brother, but you love daddy too, no?"

"Just leave her, James." Lily's voice came from upstairs, her tone breaking for bouncing Harry to sleep. "She'll say it when she's ready."

Easy for you to say it, he thought. Lily too was upset when her daughter's first word was her godfather's nickname, but only a few days later she started mumbling "mama".

"Okay then. Come on, it's time to sleep. We need to get that dress off you." He picked her up, leaving the wand on the floor, next to the couch.

He was only mid-way when something felt different, a chill running down his spine and his stomach turned.

The secret.

No time for running upstairs, he shoved a door of a cupboard under the stairs.

"Stay here. Daddy will be right back." He assured, lying his daughter on a picnic basket.

James started tapping himself, looking for his wand. Why, why? Why was this happening?

"Lily, he's here!" He shouted, closing the door behind and rushing to the living room.

If he could at least slow him, Lily could run away with Harry and come back for Y/n later. The prophecy was about a boy, so Voldemort wouldn't waste his time looking for a girl.

His heart was racing and he felt dizzy. He knew.

He knew he'd die, getting to his wand or not.

In his mind, he only prayed. That his kids and his wife could live.

James wasn't a religious man, but God did he prayed.

When he got to the living room, his heart sank.

Voldemort's sly figure was standing, a dark cape covering almost all of his appearance, wand visible. However, what broke his heart was the one standing on his shadow.

The one that used to be on his shadow at Hogwarts, one of his best friends. Peter Pettigrew.

"Wormtail..."

That's when he knew. The betrayal he'd never forgive or forget.

James didn't even had time to look at his wand when the cold voice set the curse, and everything went black.

Upstairs, Lily started crying by hearing her husband's body hit the floor. Voldemort followed that sound, leaving the two marauders behind.

Peter looked hesitantly at James' body, not sure if he'd stand up despite the green lightning that hit him right on the chest.

They used to be best buddies, and now not a single tear left his eyes, staring at his corpse, laying there side by side with his daughter's tiara.

The curse was pronounced two more times, and Peter waited for his master to come downstairs and lead the way to the meeting. However, what he heard was someone on the garden.

It was Snape, but he didn't knew that and chose to runaway from the back, passing the door to the cupboard where Y/n was.

"Dada?" She finally said, but James wasn't there to hear.

In total, three people entered the house after the Dark Lord: Snape, Hagrid and Sirius. However, not even one could find her, well hid on the bottom of a closet.

It was only until many hours later, when Harry had just been left at the Privet Drive's house, someone found her.

It was Aberforth, Albus Dumbledore's brother. The headmaster of Hogwarts sent him to take care of Lily's and James' bodies so they'd have a proper funeral.

He had just started to go upstairs when he heard the crying, very low, very muffled, that couldn't have been heard if you even whispered.

Took him quite some time to find the girl, the steps on the stairs must've waked her up.

"Daddy." She said again when the door to the closet opened.

His head was spinning. The news of Harry Potter's survival was already running the world, together with the information his sister didn't had the same luck.

Taking the entire basket, he left the house, not caring too much for the bodies. Hell, Y/n was alive!

This would change everything. "The boy who lived" would turn into "The twins who lived".

If, of course, he didn't decided to keep it a secret.

Albus had ordered him to go to the house when everything was happening, he knew James and Lily would die. He wanted that to happen.

The same way he knew the traitor was Peter Pettigrew and Sirius was about to be send to Azkaban.

His brother never cared for anyone's life, so Aberforth couldn't risk. He wouldn't tell a soul.

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Next Chapter

Taglist (lemme know if i forgot anyone, I'm still new to this): @intoanothermind @moonysupremacy01 @maraudersarelifee @elleraelockwood @darkenwolfie @hopesf @lukewearingbeanies @azuredgalaxies @klazina-couch-potato @goldensunshineshit

#harry potter #regulus black #albus dumbledore #black brothers #dumbledore #order of the phoenix #remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #regulus deserved better #regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #marauders fanfiction #Manipulating Death Series

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heresthestorymorningglory · 5 months

Text

Just Another Thursday...

Summary: Lloyd Hansen's a dick.

A/N: Listen y'all this NSFW 18+ should be par for the course at this point. So like….just don’t okay?

As always, the inspo is thanks to the Goosecord and my beautiful partner in crime @ken-dom who constantly receives messages from me in the dead of night needing reassurance or “Hey what about if THIS happened?!”

Bless you my new found chosen sister for putting up with my antics! (Yes I copy pasted, yes it's still valid don't come for me)

This latest part is a little stabby so please my duckies, proceed with caution

This is a continuation of what I've affectionately titled the Nurse Series, read previous parts 'Hello Nurse' and 'Unfinished Business' here.

Like I said last time, this won’t be the last you see of SIx

Enjoy my loves! <3

@odessa-is-my-queen you asked for a tag <3

You groaned, head throbbing as you blinked the blur out of your eyes, the dim room coming into focus.

“There she is” the unfamiliar voice reminding you of your very unpleasant encounter before you were knocked unconscious.

You were bound to a chair, both hands and feet; in some sort of dingy warehouse with flickering fluorescent lights.

You tried to fight past the throbbing headache to figure out an escape plan. Six was gone, he had no idea where you were or how to find you. You were on your own. You were on the wrong end of this transaction and that terrified you. Six had never told you the whole story, but he had told you enough; this man was capable of murder.

“A dirty warehouse basement is a little cliche don’t you think?” You asked softly with your head dropped, you were trying to avoid making eye contact with him.

That plan had been short lived as Lloyd grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him.

“God,” you winced “At least buy me dinner first”

Lloyd scoffed with amusement “She’s witty” he quipped to the dark figure standing in the corner not speaking

You took a deep breath in through your nose “What do you want Lloyd?”

He didn’t answer, instead, he struck you hard across the side of your face, the heavy ring on his pinky splitting skin.

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek. If you had learned anything from Six’s incessant teachings “just in case” it was to keep your mouth shut. You had reassured him again and again nothing would ever happen, but he had insisted, and you complied…he was never going to leave you alone again.

“Where did you send him?” you asked as he circled around the front of the chair you were sitting in, letting go of the hold he had on your hair. You kept your eyes forward, but off of him.

He pulled a chair over in front of you, letting it scrape across the dirty cement before sitting down.

“Oh honey, he should be the last of your worries…” he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Where” you repeated

“On a wild goose chase” he answered, tipping his head, forcing your eyes to meet his “I owed him one”

“He’s too smart for that” you muttered, knowing you were grasping at straws and only hoping you were right, praying he wouldn’t just run off halfway around the world without at least giving it a second thought.

“Surprised he left you all alone,” Lloyd continued “Unprotected”

“I can handle myself”

This made him laugh out loud, he threw his head back, hand resting on his stomach. “Can you?!” His voice a little too cheery at the concept He leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped together between his knees “I’d like to test that theory”

Another hard backhand across your other cheek made your head snap harshly, making you bite your tongue.

You had no way out, there were at least four other men scattered around the room, bigger than Lloyd, probably told to shoot first and ask questions later. Even if you could get out of your impossibly tight bounds you didn’t stand a chance. The zip ties bite into the skin of your wrists and ankles as your joints move, testing them.

You just had to hope you could survive long enough to tire him out.

“What’s the matter Lloyd?” you asked, eyes meeting his in a challenge “Some girl tell you that mustache makes you look like a pedophile?”

You knew taunting him wasn’t the smartest idea, he was very obviously a loose cannon, but if beating your face bloody was the worst he was going to do, you could manage.

As if to prove your point, the heel of his hand made contact with the bridge of your nose, eliciting a loud crunch as the bone broke on impact, causing blood to pour from your nose like a faucet.

You saw stars briefly as he got to his feet. “Don’t worry, cupcake, I’ll make sure you’re nice and recognizable when he finds you back at home in a dead heap on the porch”

As he spoke, he pulled a switchblade from his pocket and your heart slammed in your chest. You didn’t know how long you had been gone, how long you had been here, or how long it would be before he caused enough bodily harm for you to start to really panic.

Lucky for you, Lloyd was big on the grandstanding; especially when he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Lloyd asked as he sat back down in his chair “I could give us matching wounds” he held up his hand and you realized he had been missing two fingers.

You said nothing, trying to breathe through the pain of your broken nose as he continued; taking a hammer from one of his minions.

“Did he tell you about Prague?” He asked, rocking the hammer back and forth between his hands.

“You mean did he tell me about how you killed Don Fitzroy?” you asked, “Yes, he told me”

“Would have killed him too” he muttered

You scoffed with a laugh “You could certainly try”

“Thought for sure he’d bleed out in that damn fountain”

You frowned with a realization; Lloyd had been the reason Six had shown up on your doorstep that night.

As your mind processed the fact, you felt Lloyd’s hand close around your bound wrist, not really realizing what he was doing until it was too late. One swift swing and the hammer came down hard on two of your fingers, fragile bones, crunching against steel as they separated.

You groaned, mindful not to scream, chin tucked into your chest as your eyes squeezed shut as long as your broken nose would allow. Tears stinging your eyes as you looked back up, Lloyd very obviously pleased with himself.

“That was you.” you said simply, breathing through the screaming ache “So that’s what this is” you nodded understanding

“What?” Lloyd scoffed pacing in front of you “Don’t pretend like you know what this is”

You laughed as much as your pain would allow “It’s revenge, because he kicked your shit in and did a better job at it”

You watched as he set the hammer down, picking back up the switchblade. “It all makes sense now,” you said, your voice low “You know you can’t beat him, you tried and you failed, so why not go after someone smaller?”

“Think you’ve got me all figured out huh?” He asked, pressing the tip of the cool steel against your collarbone.

You rolled your eyes “You’re not that complex Lloyd, you’re pathetic”

You winced, feeling the blade pierce your skin as he sliced across your shoulder. “Hmm” You groaned as you took in a deep breath through clenched teeth, dropping your head for a beat before chuckling softly leaning back in your chair “He is gonna tear you apart”

“You keep saying that, and yet…”

His hand came down swiftly, blade of the knife burying itself in your thigh; that scream you’d fought so hard to hold back ringing through the room as you threw your head back trying to breathe. Lloyd laughed appreciatively next to you as he pulled the blade back out making you gasp trying to find your breath.

“He’ll be here” you whispered, swallowing hard; trying to convince yourself more than Lloyd at this point.

“Oh, I’m counting on it”

This time the blade buried itself deep in your shoulder, again making you cry out against your will as he pulled it free.

This carried on for what felt like an eternity, stab after stab, slice after slice.

He stopped to give himself a break, your breathing was shaky and shallow as you tried to calm yourself down, slow your heart rate, keep the blood from pumping too hard.

The next two…maybe three? Sliced your ribcage and you had given up on keeping your composure, your head hung as you cried, tears dripping off the end of your nose.

“That would be serendipitous wouldn't it, killing you both with the same knife?” Lloyd’s voice was cool and measured over your head "Had enough?"

You ran your tongue between your lips, swallowing hard before he jerked your head up; you just glared at him

“Well?” he asked

You were fighting to keep from passing out, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction if you could help it.

“Go fuck yourself” you whispered, your eyes slipping closed.

“I don’t see boy wonder anywhere” Lloyd quipped “Maybe he decided you’re just not worth it after all”

You didn’t answer, just focused on your breathing. Now you had an idea of how Six must have felt that night he stumbled through the front door. How he had managed it you’ll never understand.

A commotion outside caught Lloyd’s attention and he leaned over the back of the chair next to your ear “Ohh, maybe I spoke too soon hmm?”

You hoped against all hope.

“Let's give him a show, shall we?”

Lloyd buried the tip of his finger into one of the gashes on your arm, making you scream in pain.

The gunfire rang off the walls as someone got closer.

Lloyd stayed behind you, using your body as a shield.

The last of his minions dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Six appeared in the doorway.

“Thank God” you whispered, letting yourself relax as much as you could. Your eyes met his across the room, you could only imagine what you looked like, but his composure didn’t falter.

“And here he comes to save the day” Lloyd sneered. “It's about time you got here…almost cut your girl to pieces”

“I told you he would kill you” you whispered letting your head drop, feeling dizzy.

“Let her go, Lloyd, this has nothing to do with her”

“Put the gun down and I'll consider it”

Their voices sounded muffled and far away as you tried to fight to stay awake.

A sharp stab in your thigh as Lloyd buried the knife there and left it as he walked around the chair.

“Hold on to that for me would ya?”

All you could do was scream in pain, tears streaming freely down your cheeks before you slipped away.

#fic #sierra six x reader #ryan gosling #the gray man 2022 #courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry #lloyd hansen #chris evans #n sfw #sierra six

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evan4ever · 1 year

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Why Do I Love You?

Kai Anderson

Warnings: physical and mental abuse, cursing, blood

Summary: Yours and Kai’s toxic relationship made you both question the loyalty you both had for each other. Neither of you could understand why you loved someone that you hated at the same time. But the chokehold you had on Kai was strong and he knew it.

—

You were laid in with bed you shared with Kai, him finishing up the meeting in the basement. Your mind was running over what had happened and you were so angry that you were silent. Kai new it when he entered and you said nothing, didn’t move, didn’t look at him. You remained in your position while he slipped his jacket off and took his boots off, his eyes on you the entire time. You felt the bed dip as he sat on his side, feeling his hand now rest on your arm. It only pissed you off more.

“You know I had to do it, y/n.” He stated matter of factly. You shook his arm off and stood from the bed, grabbing your coat and slipping your shoes on and heading to the door. Kai looked at you with raised eyebrows at your sudden change, standing quickly and following you. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.” You stated, pulling yourself hard from his hold when he tried to grab you.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked now in an angrier tone. “Hey listen to me when I’m taking to you!” He grabbed your wrist tightly bringing you to a halt and you took the chance, turning abruptly and swinging your fist into the side of his face causing him to stumble backwards in shock. He looked into the kitchen the two of you were standing in the doorway of and saw a few of his followers watching the picture unfold, never seeing anyone hit their ruler before. They quickly looked away from him and Kai blinked back at you, his eyebrows furrowing in anger and embarrassment.

“What? Should be used to it by now, like I am.” You chuckled harshly. You both had been together since the start of this cult, you a follower first that slowly turned into something more; and it was not an easy or pain-free process for either of you. Kai was so loving at the beginning, you had no idea what he really was. But he didn’t know that you wouldn’t succumb to the abuse when it started, no, instead you returned it. It threw Kai through a loop, he never had someone be so loyal yet so threatening. And Kai couldn’t wrap his head around why you both came back for more. Your guys’ love slowly turned to pure hatred, but through all of it you guys still loved the fuck out of each other and it just didn’t make sense.

Kai suddenly approached you fast, you didn’t even have time to react. He grabbed your throat and pushed you into the wall, his hold making it hard for you to breathe. “You think I’m going to accept that?”

“You do every time” you choked out between breaths, but maintaining the flare you were giving him. He closed in on the little space you had.

“You don’t control me, and you’re going to pay for embarrassing me in front of my people.” He growled out, but you took the chance you had and smacked your face into his, managing to crack his nose that began pouring blood out instantly.

“Fuck, y/n!” He yelled as he took a step back, holding his face.

“I embarrassed you?!” You nearly screamed at him, walking up and pushing him making him fall to the ground. You quickly stood over him. “That’s all you ever do to any of us, Kai. That blood pouring from your nose is your fucking karma.” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking down at him with am emotionless face. You knew you were pushing him, but you also knew he couldn’t kill you. That’s the fucked up thing about you both. If it was anyone else, they’d be dead by now. You had no fear of him, and he didn’t know how to deal with that because as said before, he couldn’t kill you. He couldn’t even fathom the thought of killing you. Even though he fucking hated you.

“Get up.” You rolled your eyes, stepping over his body and walking into the kitchen completely disregarding the others that stood in there, shocked. They knew the two of you had a fucked up relationship but Kai always made it known that he was the controller in the relationship and that you’d do anything he said. This was the first time anyone was seeing him completely taken over by you.

You pulled a glass down and filled it with some water, turning and leaning against the counter while you dipped on it, watching Kai gather himself. He wiped the excess blood from his face before his eyes made their way back to you. He held an unreadable expression, his eyes flickering over to the others.

“Can you fucking go?!” They quickly parted ways, leaving from every entrance leaving the two of you by yourselves. You continued watching him while he made his way to you.

“You think I’m going to just be okay with watching you fuck someone else? Really? You didn’t think I’d fucking test you? Seriously Kai. Fuck your self.” You rolled your eyes.

He rolled his eyes in return. He knew he’d be in for a fight when he did it. Especially because he’d never done it before. “It was a punishment. It’s not like I enjoyed it-“

He quickly ducked his head as you sent the glass flying his way, shattering into the fridge that’s as behind him sending shards into the both of you. He looked at you like you were crazy, but hey — he should know that by now.

“Yeah? Next time you piss me off I’m gonna go fuck one of your guys. YOUR punishment, no?” You crossed your arms waiting for his reply that never came. Well when you put it that way…

“You can hit me, Kai. Scream at me, slap me, be as fucking physical as you want. That I can take. But you fuck anyone else, you cross a line.” You approached him while he stayed right where he was, only letting his eyes watch you. Almost as if he was preparing for your next move. Something he doesn’t have to do for anyone, but you threatened everything for him. It was a toss up between the respect of his followers, and you. He couldn’t bring himself to choose one over the other, never has been able to, and so he did everything to keep both. “But the minute you let someone else feel you intimately, even if it isn’t supposed to be; that’s when you risk everything.” Your hands made their way to his waist, running your hands over the material of his shirt while you walked around him. “I’d rather your followers watch you beat me than fuck someone else.”

You were now placed in front him, holding his waist still. He wasn’t sure whether to let his hands grab your hips or to remain at his sides. He looked down at you while you were staring up at him with dark, angry yet lustful eyes. You were so fucking confusing.

You watched his mind race while trying to decide on what to say, what to do. Again, this wasn’t something anyone else would get away with. No one has this control over him but you. And he fucking hated it. Fucking hated the way you could silence him, the way you made his head fill with rage but his heart beat with love.

“And if you want another bitch, then go fucking get her but let me go. I refuse to be the girl who stays when her boyfriend gets off to someone else.” You stated and went to pull away, but he quickly grabbed your face and roughly pulled it to him crashing your lips into each other. He walked you backwards until your back hit the counter, Kai grabbing your thighs and lifting you up and setting you firmly on it, his hands running up to land on your waist again, gripping them so tightly it caused you to moan out in a painful pleasure. He pulled you closer into him, grabbing the back of your neck and forcing you to look up at him.

“I don’t want anybody else.” He said in a low tone, your eyes locking in and neither faltering away. “I only want you.” You finally let your eyes soften up, seeing the desperation in Kai’s at the thought of not having you to himself. He honestly couldn’t stand the thought. “I’ll fucking kill everyone if it keeps you by my side.”

“Good.” You whisper, your hands reaching up to grab his face and pull him back to you in an aggressive, passionate kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands making their way into his hair and pulling at it earning a beautiful groan from him. He took your bottom lip into his mouth, biting down so hard it nearly bled but you loved the pain, you lived for the physical pain he caused you, and the way you could cause the same pain the way no one else could towards him and he would never leave you.

You knew you were his weakness, and you took all advantages of it. And even in the times you hated him, you loved him all the same.

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