#they threatened to not go on the trip without him

[aerahyasashi]

yandere satosugu x female reader? can you do jealousy headcanons (like what makes them jealous and/or what they do when they get jealous)? sorry if that wasn’t specific enough!

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Satosugu x Fem! Reader

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere behavior (duh) murder, possessiveness, gore. (Ooc maybe) satoru being an oa little shit. Poly relationship.

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: WHAHAHA i didn’t knew if you wanted it to be separate or not anon, you said satosugu so i immediately assumed that it was a threesome. But heree, some hc’s:33 sorry pookie, i got lazy on suguru’s part:< SJAKEKSKA i did this first cause hc’s are the easiest to write💀💀💀

Masterlist

🔪Satoru struggles with pervasive jealousy issues, particularly when it comes to you and Suguru.

🔪This dude is like the embodiment of jealousy. he’s so envious he’s practically green with it. Hell he’s even jealous of himself. There was this one time he bet he could pull off dressing up as a girl for a dare, and oh boy, did he go all out. But then he got all pouty when you gushed all over him and got all touchy, something that you don’t really do often. And his reason of getting jealous with himself? He thought that you prefer him as a girl, like hello? you were supposed to prefer the original satoru and not his genderbent!

🔪But seriously, this guy’s jealousy knows no bounds. If Suguru flashes a flirty grin at someone else, bam, jealousy strikes. And if you dare compliment another soul? Jealousy overload. You hugged another man that isn’t suguru? He’s trying to force himself not to throw hands. This dude craves all the attention, all the affection, like a toddler hoarding toys in a playgroup. He’s aware he’s selfish, probably knows it’s not the best look, but he’s powerless against the possessiveness that overtakes him when it comes to you and Suguru. You both have this unique power to bring out the best and worst in him, after all, you two were the only one who sees him as “Satoru” and not as the “Strongest.”

🔪Satoru’s neurotic tendencies and jealousy issues stemmed from his messed-up childhood. The poor guy got stripped of his carefree youth and was thrust into the adult world way before his time after all. the jealousy bug bit him hard when he saw other kids having the time of their lives, while he was stuck with grown-ups fawning over him and expecting way too much and pressuring him. That childhood envy stuck to him like glue, and it grew into a full-blown mess when you, him, and Suguru became an item.

🔪The thing that grinds Satoru’s gears the most and the absolute worst, is when you and Suguru says something about other people’s eyes like; “Their eyes is so pretty” Blah, blah, blah, bullshit like that. It kills him inside that you don’t shower the same love on his eyes. His eyes are prettier, more powerful, and literally very unique, and you hardly ever mention how beautiful it is.

🔪Satoru absolutely loathes it when you’re completely oblivious to someone flirting with you. He’ll shoot menacing glares at the culprit when you’re not paying attention, as if daring them to keep it up, and he would end up threatening them.

🔪Satoru doesn’t bother in hiding his emotions, he’ll whimper, pout, and stick to you and Suguru like glue. And would play the melodramatic card, guilt tripping you. Or he’ll just straight up threaten you or tell suguru about how naughty you are.

🔪🔪🔪

Satoru’s head rested delicately upon your lap as your dexterous fingers ran through his snow white tresses. He gazed at you upward, sky blue eyes peeking from beneath his snowy eyelashes.

“Can you give me your phone for a minute baby? I just wanna do something”

Without pause for consideration, you obliged his request and gave the phone into his outstretched hand.

“Yeah, sure, here.” You responded with a hum.

“What are you gonna do with it, anyways?” You questioned, before your eyes widened as you saw how satoru’s digits hastened across the interface, focused intently on blocking specific contacts from further reaching your line.

“Huh, ‘Toru, what the hell?”

“Wait—why are you blocking them? Those are my—” Your words faded as Satoru lifted his head from your lap and moves away from you, his piercing gaze fixed on yours as he gently grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb.

“Why do you always insist on conversing with them, hmm? Do you like them?”

“What— no! It’s not like that, what the fuck?”

“If you really love me and Suguru, then you have to sever ties with that girl/guy and keep your distance, okay?”

🔪Suguru really isn’t the jealous type, because he’s all about trust and loyalty when it comes to you and Satoru—He trusts you two.

🔪But, every now and then, a feeling of jealousy creep up inside him when he sees you and Satoru hanging out and having fun without him. He tries to brush it off though, understanding that you two are really close. He just wants to see his pretty lovers smiling, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

🔪When Suguru starts feeling jealous, it’s not a pretty sight. Beneath that kind and laid-back exterior lies a man who doesn’t really forgive that much. Suguru doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.

🔪Suguru may be a master at concealing his jealousy, but when it does surface, it’s like a storm crashing down. Picture this: you innocently text someone he’s really jealous of, and before you know it, your phone is pulled from your hands and tossed across the room while he summons a cursed spirit to destroy it completely, only to be replaced with a brand-new one moments later. Oh, and that person you were casually chatting with? It’s either you can consider them ghosted or consider them dead.

🔪Mentioning your ex around him was a big no-no. Because it immediately triggers him. can’t you just keep the spotlight on him and Satoru? One tiny mention of your ex’s name or Satoru reminiscing about his past flings, and Suguru’s mood immediately becomes sour.

🔪In stark comparison to Satoru, Suguru remains nonchalant about compliments being thrown around. He’s all for lifting people up until those compliments take a flirtatious turn. If that line is crossed, however, his cursed spirits will have its new meal.

🔪If Suguru was jealous and it led to an argument between you two, he would turn on his ultimate weapon—the silent treatment. He’d nonchalantly start hanging out with other people, making sure you noticed just to annoy you and make you jealous. He was well aware of his petty tendencies, but deep down, he simply wished for you to drop the bratty act and apologize.

🔪If you don’t really apologize and just pushed him over the edge... Well, you’ll have to say goodbye to your sanity because suguru is brutal as fuck when it comes to giving punishment.

🔪Unlike Satoru, who would guilt trip and manipulate you, Suguru would take it up a notch on the intensity scale. He wouldn’t shy away from using violence after all. And that doesn’t only apply to the person that he’s envious of, that applies to you too, and satoru. But that’s the difference, Satoru is a good boy, and you’re not.

🔪Suguru would be more than glad to kill someone in front of you and force you to watch it after all. He’ll hurt you too if you thrash and scream instead of being a good girl.

And you can’t really escape the both of them, after all, their love is like a noose.��

🔪🔪🔪

Suguru’s hand forcefully clamped over your quivering lips, stifling any cries that tried to escape. His breath was hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh with an iron grip, rendering you immobile. The metallic tang of blood invaded your nostrils. Your eyes were wide with terror, pupils shrinking, and your pulse quickening. A sickening view of gore played out before your horrified gaze, crimson splattering the walls, each nauseating squelch echoing through the room.

“I told you to stay away from them and you didn’t listen...” Suguru whispers, his breath hot against your neck, his delicate mouth parting to suck hard upon your pulsing skin, his mouth works its way slowly along your skin. And you shudder involuntarily beneath his touch, fear coursing through you as his lips close around a patch of flesh, sucking hard.

“See...? This is what happens when you disobey.”

The sharp prick of his teeth sends bolts of pain ricocheting through your body. Your already unsettled stomach lurches violently at the sight that greets you as you raise your head, struggling against his grip.

Before you, bound fast to a wooden chair, was the friend you had jokingly flirted with. Tears stream unchecked down their pallid cheeks, mingling with traces of dried blood, as their cries continue to ring in your ears.

Every limb was callously severed, Their bones was protruding out—the metacarpal bones, the carpal bones, the humerus, the ulna, the fibula, and other bones,  Their arms and legs are covered in long, vivid scarlet lines that are three inches wide, intersecting each other in a crisscross pattern and the wounds appear to have breached the surface of their skin, While suguru’s cursed spirits feeds on their severed flesh.

With a low, self-satisfied hum, Satoru drags the tip of the scalpel upwards your friend’s cheek, cutting them and the skin opens, revealing their inner facial muscle. He then reaches out to grasp a fistful of your friend’s hair, yanking their head back sharply to force clouded eyes up to meet your own.

“Suguruuuu, what do i do next? Do we gouge their eyes out for looking at our pretty girl that way?” 

“Do it. She said that she likes their eyes anyways... She’s probably implying that she prefers their eyes over yours.” Suguru smirks, humming as he pressed his body against yours, enjoying the way satoru’s face suddenly fell.

“Haah... Looks like i’ll be enjoying gouging their eyes then.”

#𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐇’𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere satoru gojo #yandere gojo #yandere geto #yandere suguru geto #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere satosugu #satosugu #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #yandere creepypasta #yandere anime #jjk x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere jjk headcanons

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 4

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Tuesday)

Masterlist

"It was so weird, mum... Like, the moment I mentioned his agency, he went all serious and then avoided my question. And before that, he didn't smile like he usually does."

"Since when do you pay attention to the way Mason smiles?" Elizabeth chuckled.

"That's a really good question" Adele thought. "Anyway, do you think... Could an agency do that? Call the paps on one of their clients as some kind of revenge?"

After the chaos at the airport, she and Mason had talked about who could have tipped off the photographers. The only people who knew they were flying that day were their brothers, Jourdan and his agency, and the first three would never say anything. The others... 

"That's too twisted" Elizabeth said. "But I know they've called them without letting their client know because it made the photos look more natural, like actual candids."

"Did that ever happen to you and dad?"

"Never. We were stalked, followed everywhere, harassed... But my agency always protected me."

Adele's parents hadn't had it easy. Her father was the heir of a very important family in the US and was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, and when the press had found out that they were dating, they had gone crazy. Both had been followed everywhere they went, their faces being on all the magazines. The supermodel and the heir, most headlines would say. And his family didn't like it. 

They considered Elizabeth not enough for their son, and had done everything in their power to make them break up. When they got engaged after years of dating, his family hadn't met her yet, and when Adele's dad took Elizabeth's last name instead of being the other way around, they even threatened him with disinheriting him. But they fought for their love despite everything and everyone, and they still were together, happier than ever.   

"So you don't think Mason's agency could have done it?" 

"I don't, no" Elizabeth said. "But less talking about pretty boys and annoying paparazzis, and more about this!" she said, gesturing towards their car's window.

Between Jourdan, Mason and her mum constantly sending her photos of their old trips together, Adele had finally said yes to going to Paris. She would be joining her backstage at the couple of shows she was walking, attending one as a guest with her, and a couple of parties too. Would she end up regretting it? Probably. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I am so glad you accepted our invitation, Adele" said Maria Grazia Chiuri, Dior's creative director, when she met them for their fitting. 

"Thank you for inviting me" she smiled.

"I myself have picked some looks for you that I think will be perfect."

"Oh, wow. That's so kind."

"Anything for you, girls."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Red or black?" Elizabeth asked while looking at herself in the mirror.

"Black" Adele and Maria Grazia said at the same time. 

"Black it is."

"Adele, now that I have you here, I have to ask again. Are you sure you wouldn't like to join your mum for our mother's day campaign? It would be just a one time thing."

"I'm sorry, Maria Grazia. But being in front of the camera isn't my thing."

"Then what about behind the camera?"

"What?" Adele said.

"Oh, that's an amazing idea! You could take my photos!" Elizabeth said while getting changed.

"Mum, I'm not a professional photographer. There are better people for that than me."

"It wouldn't be as special, tho. And a daughter taking photos of her mother would also work for our campaign" Maria Grazia said.

"I don't think it is a good idea. What would the photographer you hired say?"

"If I explain it to him, he'll understand. Why don't I ask someone from my team to send you the mood board for the campaign so you can get an idea of what we want?"

"And Addie could send your photographer some of her photos so you know what she can do" Elizabeth added.

"Perfect!" Maria Grazia said, not allowing Adele to protest.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I think someone fancies you."

"What?" Adele said. She and Elizabeth had been in Paris for a few days already, everything going pretty well keeping in mind what had been going on back home and in New York. Paparazzis bothered them the usual during fashion week, and all the headlines were about her and her mum, their outfits, and how much they were loving that they were finally doing fashion stuff together.

That night, they were attending a Vogue party where they were joined by people she only saw on Instagram. Models, musicians, actors... Even a couple of football players too. 

"That cute guy over there" Elizabeth said, nodding towards her left. "He can't stop looking at you."

"Who... What..." she said, slowly turning around to look at him. When they eyes met, he smiled at her, and Adele heard herself giggling. He had a dimple on his left cheek, just like Mason did. Mason...

"Go talk to him."

"What?"

"C'mon" her mum said, pushing her towards him.

"But I don't know who he is.”

"An actor from one of those superhero movies. Now go."

"But..."

"Hello there" the cute guy said, his dimple showing in all its glory once again.

"Hi."

"You are Adele Turlington, right?"

"Yep. And you are... Sorry, I'm really bad with names" she smiled, hoping her lie would work.

"Nico Evans."

"Nico, yes, of course! I was thinking about your character's name and I didn't want to say something stupid."

"Nah, it's ok. I'm used to it" he smiled again. God, he was cute. "Would you like to grab a drink?"

"I would love that." 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"What time is it?" Adele yawned.

"Too early. Go back to sleep" Nico whispered.

"Then why are you leaving?"

"Because I am attending a show in an hour, and I haven't showered or got changed" he chuckled.

"Oh..."

"Would you like to meet again?" Nico said after finishing tying up his shoes. "Maybe for lunch? I'm leaving tonight."

"I... I can't. My mum and I are meeting some friends of hers that we haven't seen in ages and..."

"Oh, it's ok. Don't worry" Nico smiled, that dimple he shared with Mason showing up again. Why was she thinking about him again? "Maybe another time."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Thank you for last night, Adele. That was... That was amazing. Definitely a highlight of my fashion week" he smirked.

"You're welcome" she giggled, feeling her cheeks get warm.

"Good bye, Miss Turlington. See you soon" he said, giving her a peck.

"Good bye, Mr. Evans" she replied.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

[shinjisdone]

Could you please make a scenario where the reader is being spied on by the rest of the ban and thorfinn deals with them real well🙏 I can feel his rage through my screen

I take it that the reader in this case is seen as female and the bandmates are reacting to it in a perverted way as they are/were depicted in their peak time as vikings.

TW: bandmates spying on female!reader while she bathes, hints at sexual harrassment and SA, not done at all but Thorfinn thinks about and decides to protect you from it, mentions of pervesity, Thorfinn pondering about killing them/committing violence, fuming Thorfinn

Such men pride themselves in being "warriors" but you and Thorfinn both knew this couldn't be further from the truth. They cackle and sneer at whatever they hold power against in the most vile way. In and out of battle they search for a kick, for something to make them feel powerful. So with grins so big it could crack their face, they shadow after you two as you look deeper within the forest for a lake.

Thorfinn had long sensed the group and would often throw glares over his shoulder as he made sure you walked in front of him.

He had long learned to get keen hearing for both on the battlefield and for situations like this. The both of you tried to make such trips short and discreet but some were insistent to tag along.

The blonde cannot afford to really break their bones and cut off a few fingers as they deserve since they are still Askeladd's manpower. It would be so easy to get rid of them for how predictable they are but Thorfinn has to deal with this in different ways.

You've long adjusted to put your trust in the young man. He has proven himself to be a friend even if it's only to you. So you say nothing and do as you always do as you step into the lake.

The corner is well hidden behind bushes and Thorfinn awaits the men's arrival. You've long undressed and began to clean yourself and as the bandmates eagerly hide, they are just met with Thorfinn's glare and him spreading his body wide, shielding you as best as you could.

The blonde is small but with the bushes and you hunching, not an inch of you could be seen. The men grumble in disappointment again as the blonde protects you, unnecessarily in their opinion, but still wish to not be spotted. You are quick to finish your routine, having thrown your belongings over Thorfinn's shoulder as he kept on guarding you, broad and unmoving like a boulder. The bandmates jokingly call him a scarecrow in these situations.

They also joke how lucky the young man must be to be so close to a woman's beauty. All he'd have to do is just peek over his shoulder to indulge in it while they have to hide over hills to even get a slim chance of finding the both of you.

Killing the men off would end up being a bigger hassle since the leader would have to find replacements. And anyone willing to become a viking is also someone who'd spy on you without a second thought anyway, so what is the point?

What they do not understand is that Thorfinn is anything but delighted. He silently fumes and has to press down his anger again and again only because they are Askeladd's men. How dare they? How can they call themselves warriors? Don't they understand how you feel? This isn't a 'priviledge', it is protecting you. Thorfinn would never think of betraying your trust by even having his sight go anywhere near you, even if he has feelings for you. He stands there not to indulge but his back is your shield, a brief safe space of anything that dares to threaten you. He will stand there until you are done and dressed, and even then will Thorfinn keep an eye on any bandmates. He won't even look at you, hours after your bath, dried and dressed, until you initiate any contact and tell him it's okay.

His priority is keeping you safe and having you feel safe. It doesn't matter if you were not hurt, if you feel violated in any way, then Thorfinn did not protect you. If you feel scared and uncomfortable, then Thorfinn did not an good enough job protecting you. Whatever needs to be done, he will do even if it means shielding you out of sight, including his own.

If, however, they were local perverts, Thorfinn would have no problem striking them down. He does not think of how vile they might be but is making sure any kind of danger for you is eliminated. He can't let that happen. In cases like that he is quick to deal with them but if somehow, harrassment has been going on for long, he wouldn't be able to contain his anger. How dare they talk about you that way? How dare they?

If he feels platonic towards you, he tends to silently fume in general. He doesn't want to cause more trouble than needed and prefers to just take care of the problem. If he can kill them, he will do so to stop whatever was going on and to have it serve as a warning to others in the future. He doesnt care if he has to call you 'his woman', he will make it clear as they that you are not to be messed with.

If he has romantic feelings, Thorfinn tends to freak out verbally. The acts of violence and warnings are the same but he will curse and scream a lot more. Don't they dare go anywhere near you! Or even speak your name! Any look thrown at you will be met with a glare of his!

For the case of the bandmates, he will end up holding a grudge against those who would attempt to spy on you. Doesn't matter how often and how long.

#request #vinland saga #vinland saga Thorfinn #thorfinn imagine #thorfinn x reader #thorfinn karlsefni x reader #thorfinn karlsefni

[violynt-skies]

when saiki thinks he’s an asshole but in reality he’s one of the most kindhearted ppl in the series who’s always looking out for everyone and doing the most inane things to help others and it’s all just masked w a blank face and sarcastic personality

saikis the most unreliable narrator ever and we should never believe a single thing he says

the man helped a random magician on the side of the road and literally stepped in as a clown for his show. you could not pay me to do that honestly. but sure i hate people and don’t want anything to do w them o k a y saiki

even when faced w his even more advanced tsundere grandfather, saiki made an effort to approach him

he doesn’t have to do any of these things but he does bc he loves them all shut up he’s so nice

i’m so glad all his friends are aware of it too. they all belong together

#i love their friendship so much #he’s such a lovable little lying brat #as if everyone can’t see right through him #when toritsuka took his place they all noticed and called him out #they threatened to not go on the trip without him #from an outsiders perspective they’d think saiki doesn’t add anything to the group #but they all know it wouldn’t be the same w/out him i love em #i just love them #saiki k #disastrous life of saiki k #saiki #saiki no psi nan #kusuo #kusuo saiki #friendship #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, somnophilia, implied non/con, mentions of knots.

Puppy!Yuuta, who catches your eye the second you step into the shelter, despite the fact that he’s not at all what you were looking for. You need a service animal, and as cruel as it feels to say, hybrids of undeterminable origins with less-than-stellar past homes aren’t known to be very consistent, let alone trainable when it comes to such a high-stakes job. You were supposed to meet a pure-bred, highly recommended husky hybrid whose previous owner was no longer able to take care of him, but it was over for you as soon as you saw those big, dark, watery eyes – nearly hidden entirely by overgrown hair and jet-black ears that seemed to droop even lower whenever you threatened to look away from him. You’re already a lost cause by the time you ask a shelter employee for his name, and the paperwork’s signed within the hour. He leaves with you the same day, eyes on the ground and tail wagging a mile a minute.

Puppy!Yuuta, who was always meant to be someone's spoiled pet. He's shy, at first, scared to talk too loudly or cling too tightly or do anything that'll get him sent back to the shelter (no matter how clear you make it that that's a non-option), but it only takes him a few days to warm up to you, a couple weeks to come out of his shell, just under a month to start sleeping in your bed and trailing you around your apartment. He almost trips over himself when you ask if he'd like to wear a collar, and soon enough, he's more akin to a second-shadow than a dog. He does have some aggression issues, particularly when it comes to human men, but he's an angel with other hybrids, and when he bows his head and pouts, you really can't help but forgive him. With a life like the one he must've had, you can't really blame him for being so quick to bear his teeth.

Puppy!Yuuta, who's more than ecstatic when you mention still needing a service animal. He might not be qualified on paper, sure, but he's already constantly at your side, constantly worrying about you - it'd just feel wrong to go out and get another hybrid for a job Yuuta is more than capable of. He says he likes that idea of being able to take care of you, too - like you take care of him. You want to ask him not to be so sappy, to think of a slightly less sentimental way to say it, but when he's so happy and so, so proud of himself, it's hard to be even that strict.

Puppy!Yuuta, who cums untouched the first time you comb your fingers through his hair. You don't seem to notice, and he does his best to hide his face in your lap, to bite back the little, pathetic whimpers that crawl up his throat whenever you scratch at the base of his ears. He doesn't want to scare you, to be so needy so suddenly when you've been so kind.

Puppy!Yuuta, whose one and only flaw is that he can't seem to stop riffling through your dirty laundry. He can't be left alone for more than an hour without stealing one of your oldest, most threadbare shirts or worse, claiming a pair of your underwear as his newest chew-toy. You really should chastise him for it, but it's such an awkward thing to talk about, and he has such a sweet face - it's hard to believe he could ever do anything deliberately wrong. You've resigned yourself to just trying to limit the damage and salvage the less damaged items, even if those mysterious stains are a little hard to get out.

Puppy!Yuuta, who wishes he didn't have such a big, bulky knot. It's too thick and too heavy and seems to swell up whenever he gets even a little hard. If he didn't have a knot, he'd be able to actually thrust into you, rather than just fucking his fist over your sleeping body and imagining how tight you'd be, how pretty you'd look, how nice it would be to make you feel as warm and as soft as he feels because of you. He does what he can with his tongue, but you don't seem to like waking up with his saliva soaking everything between your thighs, and he always gets too excited when he tastes you. If he has to rut against your thigh that desperately again, he's afraid you might wake up and scold him.

Puppy!Yuuta, who can't wait until he works up the courage to mate with you properly. He knows it's still too soon, that it'd scare you to do it so abruptly, that he doesn't deserve it yet, but soon, he'll be able to to step up and take care of you as something more than just a pet. He's not there right now, but one day, he just knows he'll be the perfect mate for you <3

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere yuta #yandere yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yandere okkotsu yuuta #yandere okkotsu yuta

[rafecameroninterlude]

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

summary: rafe surprises you on your birthday

warnings: best friends brother, sarah being the worst friend ever (what else is new?), crying, firting over the phone, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex

word count: 2.8k

a/n: i’ve seen your comments and ik y’all want reader to stick up for herself against sarah, so don’t worry that’s in the works!! i’ve been feeling a little sick but i’m going to try to keep up with requests as best as i can <3 mini series masterlist can be found here

“is everything okay?” ignoring the fact that sarah just cancelled your plans, on your birthday, you refused to hang up the phone without getting a conversation that lasted less than two minutes. “w-what do you mean?” you heard the faint sound of someone laughing in the background, a door shutting loudly on the other line. “you’ve never missed any of my birthdays, and tonight you cancel after reassuring me all week that you’d see me? not to mention two weeks ago when we were supposed to go on the druthers, you said you’d be back home later, but you never showed.” you hated how you sounded like a concerned parent more than a friend, but right now you just wanted answers.

“everything is fine, y/n,” sarah scoffed, “i mean, seriously, i’ve just been busy, alright?” you don’t know if you should feel relieved that she’s fine, or hurt because she’s obviously not interested in talking to you right now. with ward, rose, and wheezie out of the house for the summer, there was no valid explanation as to why she goes days, sometimes weeks without being home. unless of course, rafe was right about her spending all her time on the cut. “have you been staying on the other side of the island?” you couldn’t help but ask, the question lingering in your mind since rafe mentioned it two weeks ago. “oh, my god! do i have to tell you everything? you’re worse than topper.” she hung up before you could say anything else.

what the fuck?

she’s acting as if she has never been like this before. was it a crime that you were worried about your best friend who you haven’t seen in three weeks? sarah once showed up to your house at three in the morning because you sent a crying emoji instead of a laughing one. it’s hard to think about, the person she was then, versus now. you felt your eyes stinging, your vision getting blurry as the tears threatened to overflow. god, this was pitiful. if someone told you that you’d be here, your hair and makeup done for the gods, holding back tears because of sarah, you wouldn’t believe them. the amount of things that have changed this past month was starting to crash down on you at once.

with sarah gone, and your parents away for their anniversary trip, the last thing you wanted to do was wander in a party by yourself. ultimately deciding to stay in for the night, you laid out your pajamas, about to unzip your dress before your phone rang. unknown caller. “hello?” there was a few beats of silence, “y/n?” your heart fluttered instantly. “hey, rafe.” you sniffled, trying to clear any indication that you’ve been keeping yourself from crying. “what are you doing tonight?” his voice turned rough. “i was just about to get in my pajamas.. why?” he cleared his throat, a small seed of hope burying itself in your chest. “let’s go to mine. i have something for you.” as if you couldn’t smile any harder, you could count on rafe to beat the odds. “what if i said no?” you teased, knowing you could never say that to him.

“then i’d have to go home to an empty house and no birthday girl to give birthday dick to.” you sighed dreamily, eyes glancing up at your ceiling. “aren’t you the gentlemen?” you got up, thankful to see that none of your makeup smudged. “so where are you right now?” you reapplied your lip gloss, running a brush through your hair for the final time. “outside your house.” you paused. “are you really?” you peeked outside your window, a black truck sitting out front. “i’ll be right out.” you hung up, screaming excitedly, grabbing your purse before making your way outside. rafe met you half way, picking you up and putting you in the passenger seat.

“you’re telling me you were about to change out of this?” his hands rested on your hips, your head leaning against the seat. “yeah, but i rather you take it off of me instead.” he smiled, pulling you into a kiss. “i rather do that too.” he shut the door, the car ride back to his house consisting of him making you laugh. “why’s it so dark in here?” rafe lead you upstairs, skipping past his room. “where are we going..” you stopped in your tracks. “ward’s room?” you shook your head, feeling like you were trespassing in some weird way. “don’t worry, keep walking.” he opened the doors to the balcony, the breath being sucked right out of your lungs.

a small cake with pink frosting and the number twenty in gold accents sat in a little box on top of the table, a vase full of your favorite flowers right next to it. “how..” you turned around, rafe rubbing his hands against his jeans. “i knew it was your birthday today, which explains the cake, and i may or may not have stalked your instagram highlights for any flowers i could find.” you blinked, throwing yourself in his arms. “this means so much to me, rafe. thank you.” you let out a shaky breath, your emotions getting the best of you once he pulled back to cup your face. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he sat you down, his eyes flickering between yours. “i just wasn’t expecting any of this, i’m just really grateful that’s all.” you smiled.

rafe nodded, pulling a small gift bag from under the table. “i really want to see you open this.” he placed the bag in your lap, giving you a reassuring nod when you looked at him. with shaky hands, you removed the pink tissue paper, a velvet box revealing itself at the bottom. rafe adjusted in his seat, his eyes frantically moving between you and the gift. “rafe..” you opened the box, immediately being met with probably the best gift you’ve ever received. “i’ve heard you talk about this a lot, so i figured why not?” he shrugged, “do you like it?” he watched you pick up the silver bookmark, the words ‘pretty girl’ imprinted in cursive lettering on the back.

“i love it..” you truly had no other words. placing it gently inside the box, you got up, rafe pulling you on top of him, both of you smiling into a kiss. how did he know how to do this? make you feel special and wanted and appreciated all at the same time? you deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing your thigh. “should we cut the cake?” you hummed, shaking your head, “let’s save it for after.” rafe pulled away. “after what?” his hand snaked around your neck, “after you give me birthday dick, your words.” you yelped when he suddenly yanked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside. “can i confess something?” he walked through the dark hallway, basically kicking open his room door.

you nodded, leaving a trail of kisses across his neck. once he laid you down, he took off his flannel, his biceps flexing under the small light emitting from his bathroom. “i’ve been reduced to fucking my hand every night since we had sex on the druthers. “all i could think about these past couple of weeks is how perfect you look under and on top of me,” he spoke quietly, “have you been thinking about it too?” his shirt was next to go, and the harder it was to resist from moaning at the sight of him. “yes,” you sat up, pulling him down to sit at the edge of his bed, “..that night replays in my head everyday.” settling between his legs, your fingers worked at getting his belt off.

“but the thought occurred to me one night;” you slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans, “you’ve tasted me already, but i haven’t tasted you.” as if on cue, you placed his belt next to him, using his knees to anchor yourself back on your feet. he groaned, watching as you moved your hair to the side. “take my dress off?” you turned around, unknowingly facing the mirror on his wall. without hesitation, he unzipped your dress, his eyes growing dark as he looked at your shared reflection. “nothing underneath?” this was a bold move for you, so you were more than happy to see how much he liked the idea of you walking around, ready for him to take you at anytime.

“nope, just wanted to save you the time.” you smiled, his hands cupping your tits, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. “we have all the time in the world.” he gently bit the skin of your neck, spinning you around. he pulled you down with him, your hips straddling his as you unbottoned his jeans. “i like your makeup,” rafe’s rubbed his palms on your thighs, “such a shame it’s gonna get ruined.” you smiled, rafe sitting up to kiss you roughly. kneeling on the floor, rafe held your hair back as you looked up at him, palming his cock through his briefs. “you gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he grunted, your eyes fluttering, “mhmm.” you hummed, rafe extending his hand out in front of your mouth.

“spit, baby.” he commanded. doing as he said, you laid your head on his lap, watching as he started stroking himself, both of you gazing at eachother with heated stares. “please, rafe.” he moaned, his head lolling to the side. he was still tugging on your hair, the stinging sensation shooting down your spine. he stood up, discarding the last article of clothing keeping you from being fucked into oblivion. you opened your mouth for him, a string of curse words tumbling out as his tip met your tongue. “oh, fuck,” be gritted his teeth. you straightened up, making sure to keep your eyes on his, a moan rumbling in your throat as he pushed further.

rafe licked his lips, his chest rising and falling as you started bobbing your head. if you had to be on your knees just to see the way he fell apart with your mouth alone, you’d do it all night if he asked you to. your eyes started to water, rafe smiling at the sight. “tap me if you need to.” he pulled out, thrusting back in once you nodded. fuck. your hands flew out, holding the back of his knees as he tugged at your hair, hard. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” his muscles constricted, your pussy clenching around nothing. the only word you could think of to describe the noises in this room was obscene.

heavy breathing, gasping and moaning, even an occasional whimper when you swallowed around his cock. “y/n-” he shook his head, his eyes rolling back just as you patted his leg. rafe stopped all movements, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop. “i don’t want you to cum yet,” you stood up, your knees beet red as he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. “yeah? want me to fill you up instead?” his words went straight to your core, a single tear drop rolling down your cheek. “yes.” your voice was hoarse as he laid you down, your arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him.

rafe teased your entrance before sliding between your folds, his cock rubbing against your clit. you shivered at the contact, your hips chasing his in order to get more friction. “it’s going to be hard to stop doing this, you know,” rafe looked down at you. “i wouldn’t care about sarah’s opinion on this, and i don’t think you should either.” he stared at you intensely as you pondered over his words. “you wouldn’t care about her opinion on us having sex? or..” your heart was racing, hoping he’d pick up on what you were insinuating. “well, that too, but i mean something more, more than us just sneaking around.” you met his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips.

“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” rafe laughed. “no- well, yes, but not formally yet, i want to do that the right way, not when you’re under me waiting for me to fuck you.” you bit your lip, nodding your head. you could never get used to how good his body felt on top of yours, your toes curling as he pinned down your thighs. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your temple, “this pussy was made for me.” rafe slammed into you once you settled into his sheets, a strangled cry ripping itself from your throat. it didn’t help that rafe was already filling you to the hilt, but watching his mouth fall open, and his eyebrows knit together was just as rewarding.

any concept of time was lost when you were with him, but you knew you didn’t want this to end. you loved how intimate rafe was, swallowing your moans with every kiss, massaging your thighs when he would thrust into you particularly hard, he was so good at this, you couldn’t even think straight by the time you were teetering the edge of pure bliss. “rafe, don’t stop.” you held onto his frame, his fingers circling your clit as you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “o-oh, my god,” you shook in his hold. “rafe!” you gasped. “i know,” he moaned, “fucking hell, i know.” his hips stuttered as he cummed, his eyes screwing shut while he emptied himself inside of you.

he took your lips, still thrusting slowly as he steadied you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. eventually he came to a stop, both of you laying under the sheets. “did you mean what you said earlier?” you rolled over, facing rafe as he sighed sleepily. “about being something more? yes.” you smiled as rafe took your hand in his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “should we go for that cake?” you asked. “that sounds so good right now.” both of you got up, sharing the sheets as cover, about to leave the room until your phone started ringing. rafe was quick to pick it up from the floor, his jaw ticking as he looked at the screen.

“who is it?” you reached out, rafe blocking your attempt to grab your phone. “it’s sarah.” he declined the call, tossing your phone on the bed behind him. “come on, let’s go get that cake.” he ushered you towards the door before you stopped him. “it’s nearly three in the morning, rafe. she could be in trouble.” he stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded his head. “alright.” he stepped away. you pressed sarah’s contact, putting the call on speaker. she picked up after the third ring. “y/n?” you knew that voice. after fourteen years of being best friends, you knew when she was crying, even when she wasn’t in front of you.

“what’s wrong sarah, are you okay?” you stole a glance at rafe, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i haven’t been a good friend, and i’ve been keeping so much from you, my family… topper, i can’t handle all the lies anymore.” you felt yourself growing with empathy, rafe taking hold of your arm. “don’t fall for that shit!” he whispered. “i didn’t even tell you happy birthday!” sarah sobbed, “please let me make this up to you.” you don’t know why, but you looked up at rafe, who was shaking his head. taking a deep breath, you racked your brain for what you should do.

the fact that you had sarah on the phone, while standing in rafe’s room, naked at that, you felt like you were betraying one of them with either answer you gave. if you told sarah yes, then it would be like a slap to the face for rafe, but if you told sarah no, you’d be throwing away a friendship that grew into a sisterhood over the years. “we could have a movie night. for old times sake.” she sniffled, your own tears starting to well in your eyes. “y/n.” rafe stroked your hair. this wasn’t easy, at all. “okay.” you regretted it as soon as you said it, rafe’s hand falling to his side. “okay, that sounds good.” it pained you to see the way rafe was looking at you right now.

“friday at eight?” you gave her a quick ‘yes, i’ll see you.’ hanging up shortly afterwards. “rafe-” he slipped into some shorts, walking out of the room without a word. there was no winning in this situation. you plopped down on the bed, still wrapped in rafe’s sheets as you sat in silence. after about five minutes, rafe walked in with two plates of cake. he handed you one, sitting down next to you. “i won’t hold it against you,” he spoke up, “i just wish you could see what she’s doing.” you licked some frosting off of your finger. “i’m sorry.” you leaned your head on his shoulder. rafe hummed, “don’t be. i’ll let you find out by yourself, and i’ll be there with an extra plate for you when you do.” he rubbed your thigh.

you laughed to yourself. “thank you.”

#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #outer banks #outer banks netflix #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe x reader #rafe cameron brainrot #drew starkey #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe core #rafe coded #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #outer banks rafe #rafe fic #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx smut

[hotpinkstars]

How about blind!reader with genshin men (you can choose) and she accidentally slipped and somehow managed to mess up genshin man’s important work and he ends up blowing up on her? Angst please and I don’t mind if you do comfort or no comfort!!

Have a great day🌚

-> blinded mistakes

synopsis -> you're blind, and you accidentally knock over a months worth of your husbands work, and it gets ruined.

warnings -> super angsty!!! brief mentions of ayato putting his hands on reader (no hitting or anything) might do a part 2 for comfort part cus i wanted to focus on the main argument w this one...

a/n -> ooooooomg i'm a sucker for these tropes i love angst so much. thx for ur request, this was sm fun to write! 💗💗

w/c -> 1.1k

-> ayato

ayato knew you were blind, and he was as understanding of it as he possibly could be.

but in times like these, where all of this work was to be turned in for city matters by next week, he had no patience for anyone.

he had been cooped up in his office for a while at a time over the past month. these documents were incredibly important to him and how the words written on the paper could impact how festivities were held to be a much easier way for himself and the city. 

basically, his papers were pretty damn important. and you knew that.

you walked in his office one day with thoma helping you through the hallways. you didn’t want to trip, especially with a mug of tea in your hand, and you didn’t want to bring a cane with you. 

but, thoma may have made a big mistake of leaving you in ayatos care as soon as you walked through the door. because you knew ayato was in no way shape or form able to draw himself from his work at the moment.

you were not able to use your cane to feel around the room, so without knowing where the rug was, you tripped.

and the tea you held in your hands went all over his desk, soaking his documents. the ink was splotchy and obviously ruined. you weren’t able to see what happened, but by the way ayato gasped and grabbed your wrist you knew you fucked up pretty bad.

“what the hell were you thinking???” he pulls you up forcefully and pushes you down on his couch, where you started tearing up. you weren’t necessarily used to him yelling at you, for arguments, especially over such as this, were very minimal. he always found a way to come to an understanding with you, no matter what you may have ruined. 

“i’m sorry! i didn’t think thoma was just going to leave-” you were cut off by an angry voice.

“this isn’t thomas issue, y/n. it’s yours. how clueless can you be?” he brings his hands to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose before groaning loudly. 

“i’m sorry that i can’t fucking see, ayato!” you yelled back, slamming your hands on the couch and leaning back. “is that what you wanted to hear?”

he shook his head, but you didn’t know that. he lays his hands on your thighs, squeezing them, before getting close to your face. you could smell his hair, the sakura shampoo he uses being evident. 

“i don’t want a fucking apology, y/n. if these documents are not in by friday, there is no change for inazuma. the change you’ve been awaiting, the change i’ve been awaiting, and the change everyone of the city has been awaiting. you took that away from all of them. because you decided you weren’t going to bring your cane to make sure you don’t fucking fall!” he yells to your face, making the tears spill out.

“i’m sorry! i just wanted to bring you something to drink because i was told you were overworking yourself. gosh, how bad of me for caring for my husband,” you yelled, hands shaking in both fear and rage. you knew talking back to him this way wouldn’t lead to anything good, but you tested your luck anyways.

“remove yourself from my office. i don’t care how the fuck you do it, but i demand you leave,” he said with a low, threatening tone. you knew he was enraged, and you stumbled through the door to the hallway, where ayaka was waiting to take you back to your room.

-> wriothesley

you always felt grateful for wriothesley, and the last thing you wanted to do was to upset him. he was one of the only people to look past your disability and see your heart, see your kindness and purity. 

so when you come up his office stairs very, very slowly with a cup of tea and trip on an uneven plate in the ground, ruining his documents that were incredibly important to him and the palais mermonia, especially to neuvillette, you knew you were screwed.

normally, this didn’t happen. he’d meet you down by his office door after a guard or sigewinne escorted you through the fortress, and help you walk up the stairs with the support of his arm.

he immediately slams his hands down on his table, walking over to where you were. 

you felt his presence looming over you, though unable to see it, you slowly and carefully sit up. he lifts up your chin before speaking.

“why. why would you do that,” he starts in a low tone, something similar he’d use to speaking to misbehaved criminals. “i told you not to visit me today. and what do you do? the complete fucking opposite!” 

you rub your eyes, trying to show no signs of weakness. you stand up, and he grabs your hands, making you feel the mess you made. ripped papers, bleeding ink. a month of progress is officially gone. 

“you feel what you did? that has taken me months! and it’s ruined! if i lose my job because of this-” he starts, dropping your hands as you turn around, your bottom leaning against the desk. 

“i’m sorry! i should’ve either stayed home or have a guard escort me up, i didn’t mean to ruin your progress!” you wipe more tears away, hearing him give an annoyed sigh. 

“you’re right. you shouldn’t have come at all. this would never have happened if you didn’t come. do you understand how much trouble i could be in? if you didn’t visit me at all, i wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of asking for new documents, and i wouldn’t have to do hundreds of papers in three damned days!” he says, obviously distressed.

“look, i’m sorry, okay?! you can tell neuvillette and all of fontaine that i was the one who ruined everything if you want to! i’m sorry about the hassle and i’m sorry for putting more stress on you! all i wanted to do was bring you a cup of tea because you left the house stressed this morning!” you yelled back, crying at this point. “if you don’t want the embarrassment, then you can embarrass me. it seems like i’ve done enough to deserve it, so do it! tell the whole world what i did wrong, and how horrible of a wife i was!”

you called a guard in to escort you out, and that was the last wriothesley had seen of you that day.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin x reader angst #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley angst #ayato #kamisato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato angst #ayato x reader #kamisato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader angst

[darkmold]

Thinking about casual dominance with the Cullens

Carlisle makes sure you bring a jacket whenever you go out. You both could be halfway out the door and he’ll turn around just to go get one for you (not without a gentle scolding, of course)

Esme never lets you cook for yourself. She’s so excited to have someone to cook for. Plus, it allows her to make sure you’ve eaten well that day.

Edward keeps track of all your likes and dislikes. He can order for you at restaurants flawlessly and is not afraid to send the dish back if it’s not up to standards. It also lets him keep Alice’s party plans in check (after all, you can’t enjoy yourself if things are subpar)

Jasper has a hand on your waist at almost all times. He guides you through crowds and away from people he deems threatening. He’d also kneel and tie your shoelaces for you if they came undone. He doesn’t want you to trip!

Emmett is not about to let people disrespect you. If someone gets a little too passive aggressive in history class, he’s gonna call them out on it. Holds you close and glares at them in the cafeteria.

Alice picks your outfits. She insists she knows more about fashion than you and that you should listen to her expertise, but it’s usually just so you two can match. She’d even help you get dressed if you let her.

Rosalie helps take care of you. Makes sure you drink lots of water and brush your teeth every morning/night. She’d definitely give you a little “excuse me?” look if you say the routines aren’t that important (because taking care of you is important)

#twilight x reader #twilight headcanons #the twilight saga #carlisle cullen x reader #esme cullen x reader #edward cullen x reader #jasper hale x reader #emmett cullen x reader #alice cullen x reader #rosalie hale x reader

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Mafia!Price

No Content Warnings

There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.

He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.

You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.

Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.

“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”

You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.

“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”

He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.

Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.

Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.

“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”

Will need to call later today — as if!

“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.

He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.

“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.

You blink. Are you what?

“Tomorrow, sir?”

He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”

When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.

“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”

You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.

“I do now.”

Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.

“Of course you’re coming along.”

“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”

“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”

“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”

“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”

You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.

“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”

“‘Fancy man party’?”

“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”

You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.

“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”

You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.

“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”

You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.

“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”

“Sounds great, luv.”

You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”

He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”

—

Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.

“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”

He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.

He snorts. “My job happened.”

You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”

You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.

He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.

“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”

He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.

The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.

“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”

You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”

But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.

It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.

You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.

“Sir?” you call.

“In here, luv.”

You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.

“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.

You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.

It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.

“E-evening, sir.”

He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”

You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.

“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”

You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.

“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.

“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”

They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.

“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”

They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.

“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.

“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.

Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.

“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.

“The silver and diamond.”

You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”

A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”

You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.

“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”

You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”

“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.

You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”

He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.

“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.

You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.

“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”

You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.

“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.

Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”

He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.

“That bad, eh?”

“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.

“Gift from an ex,” he explains.

You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.

“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.

He snorts. “Maybe.”

You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.

“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.

“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.

You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.

You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.

Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.

“Pass inspection?” He asks.

“Barely,” you tease.

His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.

“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”

“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.

You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.

“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.

“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”

You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”

Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.

Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.

“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”

You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #oddly wholesome for a mafia au #mafia!au #mafia boss price #assistant reader

[bunny-yan]

Yandere Duke x Spouse!GN!Reader

TW: mentions rape, mentions violence, language, confinement —

“You’ve changed.” 

It was surprising to hear something other than the sound of cutlery hitting the glass plates you used for meals considering the weeks of silence that filled the dining hall before. 

Finishing the bite of steak, juices running from the meat, you dabbed at your mouth before responding without a glance up. 

“How do you mean, my Lord?”

Your knife worked easily, cutting away the next portion to feast upon. The chef had decided on something heavier since you were trying to put on weight now that the seasons were changing. There would rarely be a need to travel beyond the mansion’s expansive garden now that you were due to experience a freeze. Parties would be halted for the weather to ensure everyone’s safety, the lord of the territory even going so far as to fine anyone found guilty of hosting due to the coming danger. It stifled things, but the mansion was large enough to keep one busy and hidden if need be. 

 “For starters, the way you address me.”

A small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes appeared on your face as you finally deigned to look into the stern expression on your husband’s face. It hadn’t changed much, but the years you’d spent observing him allowed you to see that this went beyond a cold exterior. No, he was feeling bothered. 

You remembered when the lack of expression used to bother you. You felt as if you lived on eggshells trying to guess your husband’s mood since he never made it clear how he felt about things he considered tedious, but little gestures, a quirk of the lips, gaze drifting off to the side, they were all things you learned to be closer to him. To truly understand the man beneath. You often were proud of your devotion when it helped in your desire to get to know him.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, feigning innocence as you stabbed the next piece of steak. “I’m simply offering the Duke, the respect you have earned through the hardships you’ve faced in acquiring your position.”

There was a twitch in his brow with slightly downturned lips. 

Distaste. 

You didn’t think much of it as you placed the steak in your mouth, making a mental note to give compliments to the chef. He remembered how you liked yours cooked and it was simply divine. 

You felt giddy From his continued silence knowing he couldn’t disagree with you. There wasn’t an issue. As you said, you were acting with the highest respect. What problem could be found there?

“You used to call me by my name.”

You had to stop the surprise that threatened to ruin your unbothered facade at the open confession. He’d usually flounder for something else to say or change the subject. You didn’t expect such a straightforward answer. 

Your response was delayed by another bite and after continuing to avoid eye contact. Assuming that you wouldn’t respond he cleared his throat before continuing.

“You spend more time in the garden.”

Shaking your head, the easy smile was once again plastered to your face as you said, “I wanted to get a chance to see the flowers before the snow comes. There will be little to see then.”

Pursed lips. 

He had more to say, but some things he felt damaged his pride to admit.

“You’ve also gotten lazy,” he said, voice taking an accusing tone. “You spend more time in bed in the mornings rather than seeing to your tasks.”

You could’ve gotten upset, but instead, a small laugh escaped from your lips. 

“My Lord, the time allotted to spend on work for the duchy has not changed. I assure you that everything is being handled according to schedule.”

Again, his lips pursed. With a twitch of his eye, it was a telling sign that he was beginning to get angry. 

There was only so much one could say without truly admitting what was wrong. Did he mention the time you spent in the garden because they were usually trips you took in his company? You couldn’t understand why he’d get so upset. The duration of your walk about the garden, you spoke and he offered little response if any. From the way he resisted the idea, making it out as if you were being a nuisance for forcing him to take breaks in the middle of his work, you couldn’t imagine why it was something he’d get so upset about being excluded from. As for your apparent laziness, coming home from morning meetings with the king, you suppose he found it odd that you no longer waited patiently at the door to greet him when he came back. Considering he barely glanced in your direction, it was again something that shouldn’t have caused him to make a fuss. 

“Are you trying to tell me that this perceived distance is simply a figment of my imagination?”

He never was one to beat around the bush for long. 

“Distance?” you began, again deciding to play innocent. “I’m right next to you, aren’t I, my Lord?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, voice tight as he stabbed a finger into the table. “You aren’t the same. You don’t-” treat me the same, you supposed he would’ve said had he not cut himself off. But he couldn’t mention the way the two of you used to lie in bed together. Talking of nothing when you got bored and decided instead to exist in his company. How could he say that he missed the way your hand would trail from his hair to the nape of his neck, making him feel closer to you with every graze of your skin against his? How was he supposed to reveal that it unnerved him when he didn’t see you every odd hour, having to now make excuses to leave his office since your impromptu hourly visits stopped? The anxious feelings would vanish when he caught sight of you, reassuring himself that nothing was wrong, but it quickly returned the longer he didn’t receive the same attentiveness that he was used to. You no longer sat in his lap to distract him from work or make offers for the two of you to get drunk beyond remembrance after he finished his tasks for the day. Your hands no longer reached for his when you went to bathe. Granted it wasn’t often that you would invite him, but even the weekly requests for his time and affection had stopped. You could sense the frustration building up and so you decided to drop the act in favor of finally talking about the elephant that drove a wedge between the two of you. 

“No, I suppose my behavior is not the same, but please tell me, Duke. Do you think this supposed change happened before or after His Majesty visited?”

His body went rigid and his eyes locked on yours, cold and unyielding. 

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, lighting resentment in you as you struggled to keep your composure. 

“You’ll have to be a little more specific, my Lord.”

Sighing as he pushed a hand through his hair, he leveled your stare with his own as he began softly, “You have to understand that there are certain proclivities that the King has. The partners he brings in to gentle certain urges are customary.”

“And since when was it considered customary for one of those partners to be your spouse?”

You didn’t know how much longer you could contain the rage burning deep inside you as he continued to look at you as if you said nothing worthy of his concern. It took weeks for him to even acknowledge it and that was after you withdrew the affection that he had grown used to. Had grown to miss considering he rarely brought up anything unless it was of immediate detriment to the state of the duchy. 

“Do you have nothing to say?” you asked, voice rising as you lost the control you struggled desperately to maintain.

The memory haunted you. It followed you no matter where you went, no matter what room you fled to. You couldn’t sleep at night without waking in sheer terror and panic that he would be standing at the edge of your bed. Watching you silently like a predator with eyes that felt too familiar for your liking. You couldn’t feel safe, could no longer feel comfortable in what you had called your home. Not when a shadow persistently followed you from room to room. It grew larger as the sun went down and sometimes you struggled to breathe in a room without a light banishing the darkness that threatened to consume you. 

“I understand that event has upset you-”

“Upset me‽” you seethed, cutlery slamming down on the table and making it shake. 

“But that is no excuse for neglecting your matrimonial duty.”

You scoffed. 

“Duty? You speak of duty. And what of yours when you allowed your brother to fuck me?”

You felt yourself explode when he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Watch your tone.”

“How could you allow something like that to happen‽ In our home!” Getting to your feet, you fought the wave of dizziness that threatened to overtake you as you pierced him with a glare. 

“I don’t wish to speak of this,” he said, setting his fork down with downturned lips. “Especially when you cannot control yourself enough to have a civil conversation.”

It was just like him to ask you to be civil while discussing something as appalling as what he refused to acknowledge. 

He wanted a civil conversation? Fine. 

Placing your palms on the table to give yourself a chance to expel the overflowing anger, you pinned him with a glare that held more than contempt, more than rage. You didn’t want to admit what you felt, but the longer you looked at the man you’d once felt proud to call your husband, cracks began to form at the edges of your furious exterior. 

“Did you or did you not give your brother permission to have sex with me?”

“You don’t give the King permission. You heed his requests.”

Slamming your hands on the table, you didn’t care that the tactics to calm yourself down hadn’t worked. “Stop arguing semantics with me and answer the fucking question! Did you or did you not let your brother have sex with me?”

“I did.”

Stunned, you almost bit your tongue to keep from lashing out as he finally admitted what had been weighing down on you for so long. It killed you to go about your day as if you hadn’t been subjected to such cruel abandonment. What was worse is that he looked at you as if nothing had changed, as if life could continue, passing off that night, that moment, the single most terrifying happening of your existence, as a normal occurrence. It made you want to scream.

“And do you not see an issue with this?”

“If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

You bit the inside of your cheek this time. Blood quickly poured into your mouth, but you couldn’t acknowledge it or the pain. Your mind wallowed in your husband’s sangfroid demeanor. 

You knew he wasn’t the most affectionate person in the world, that he often had trouble expressing his emotions, but you could’ve never imagined that he would be so… so uncaring. Especially after all this time. Especially after the lengths that you had gone to to understand him. 

You didn’t know who this cold stranger was. 

Only a stranger could turn a blind eye to their spouse being taken advantage of. Their spouse of eighteen years. To allow something that could only be described as the single, most humiliating experience of your life. 

If you fought or denied him, you’d put your family's name, honor, and lives on the line. The King had been happy to remind you in punctuated grunts, body slick with sweat as he… as he…

You felt yourself get nauseous. 

There was plenty you didn’t have to remember considering you closed your eyes to try and block out what had happened, but blocking one sense only heightened the others. You could still hear his harsh moans scratching across your ears and feel the stubble on his face from when he buried his head in your neck. Smell, taste his breath when-

“I’m going back,” you said suddenly, not knowing whether you spoke to your husband or yourself. Lifting yourself from the table, you tried to hold yourself with trembling legs that threatened to buckle if you didn’t focus on putting strength into them. “My father won’t be happy, but my mother will convince him. I’ll even ask him to consider not asking for you to return the dowry.”

“You aren’t going anywhere. Sit down.”

You couldn’t be here. Not if you were going to forget. Not wake up and experience that awful moment each time you opened your eyes in that bed. Going back to your house at your age would forever be a shame on your name. Others would whisper and assume that the Duke no longer had any interest in the lowly Baron’s child, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if it hurt your chances to get remarried. You didn’t care if you would never be able to remarry. You couldn’t be here.

Walking towards the entrance hall, you tried to swallow the uneasy feeling as you thought of what you would say to convince your father to take you back. 

The sound of a chair screeching across the floor made you flinch, but you could do nothing as a firm hand closed around your forearm before you were dragged forward. 

“What are you doing?” you questioned, feeling pain when you tried to pull away from his tightening grip. Stumbling after him up the stairs, you felt panic grip you.

The duke had never been a violent man. You’d known of his strength, of his experience and success in battle. You knew he was strong from glimpses of training you watched him engage in, but he wasn’t violent.

He would never-

Being shoved into a room, you fell without him holding you up and your eyes were incredulous as you looked up into his. 

It wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that he was angry. 

Brows furrowed heavily, the door handle groaned in his fist.

“From the minute your father walked you down the aisle and handed you to me, you became mine to do with as I please. Your behavior is unacceptable. You will remain in this room until it changes.”

He slammed the door closed without another word, leaving you reeling in shock as the sound of the door locking echoed throughout the room. 

The duke was never one to treat you with such little respect. 

He never put his hands on you, only treating you with the utmost care. 

He was hard to read, but he’d never- He wasn’t capable of something like this.

He would never-

He was… a stranger.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yandere duke #yandere duke x reader

[saltburnedme]

Catch Me If You Can

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3533

Summary: Living at Saltburn you’d had repeated nightmares about getting lost in the labyrinth. What happens when your nightmare becomes true?

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, choking, stalking? Kind of?, being drunk/drugged, being chased/threatened with a weapon, dub con, generally fucked up smut overall, lots of mentions of blood, pray/predator vibes

You stumbled through the darkness down each twist and turn of the labyrinth, the blood rushing through your veins, that’s when you hear it. The crunch of gravel under a foot that wasn’t your own and in that moment, you knew you weren’t alone.

That’s how the nightmare always starts. You’d gotten lost in the labyrinth at Saltburn enough throughout your childhood to know never to go in there without telling someone where you were. You’d had the same repetitive nightmare for years; you’d go in and never come out. You didn’t know why this stuck with you as much as it did, but it did, nevertheless. Because of this you made it your mission to memorise every step, you knew exactly which way led to the middle, exit and every dead end, you’d walk the maze every day just to make sure that you’d never be caught out.

You’d walked it alone for years, that was until this summer. Felix had brought a friend back; you hadn’t thought much of him until he asked to walk the maze with you. It had taken a few adventures to warm up to him as he wasn’t exactly the most outgoing of men you’d ever experienced in your life, but he seemed well meaning and it was a nice change from constantly walking alone. You weren’t sure why, but for some reason he wanted to learn the labyrinth as much as you did.

You’d never accuse him of it, but it sometimes felt as if he was planning for something more. You had watched his confidence change over time as you spent your afternoons wandering with him. You told him about your nightmare in detail, he was kind and understanding, trying to reassure you that nothing like that could ever happen. Over the time in your presence, he’d gone from a quiet boy to a confident man, almost domineering you when alone but reverting into his old self as soon as you were around others. You had so many questions, you thought that he’d been holding back, and you wanted to see just how far he’d go if he really had you alone although you were certain you’d never say it or so you thought.

The summer sun beat down on the garden and the whole family had been drinking heavily consistently since noon. You’d been in and out of the lake all day, swimming for a while and then lying on the grass soaking up the sun. Members of the party came and went as they pleased until before you knew it, day turned to night. Throwing on a long white sun dress, you lay there until you were the last one left on the grass taking in the stars as you lay there giggling to yourself through a drunken haze. You’d been so taken by the events of the day that you hadn’t even realised until now that you’d missed your daily trip around the labyrinth. You knew it wasn’t a good idea, you hadn’t told anyone where you were going and although you weren’t the drunkest, you’d ever been in your life you certainly weren’t sober. This wasn’t enough to deter you though, you were determined.

Standing on shaky legs you made your way to the labyrinth with a little skip, although your nightmare was always at the forefront of your mind on any trip there right now you felt invincible. Your tipsy mind pushed any sense of danger to the background, right now all you felt was a fuzzy tingling throughout your body and an excitement for a late-night adventure. You made it to the entrance of the maze before you knew it, staring down the first path as you contemplated whether or not this was something you really should be doing. Within a split second you had decided, you were going in. You were certain, this was until something out of the corner of your vision caught your eye.

‘I wouldn’t go in there if I were you’ he says, leaning against the entrance of the maze. ‘Anything could happen in the dark’ he continues, his face lit only by the cigarette he had pressed to his lips, a wine bottle in his other hand.

‘Fuck, Oliver. What are you doing out here? I thought everyone had gone to bed?’ You asked, your heart racing in your chest. It was just Oliver; you knew you were safe with him you thought to yourself.

‘Couldn’t sleep, not knowing you were out here alone’ he says continuously smoking and seeming to be avoiding eye contact with you, staring at the ground in front of him. Something was different, you knew he was at least a little drunk too so maybe that was it, but something felt off.

‘So, you came looking for me?.. in the dark’ you reply, waiting for any kind of response but receiving none. You could feel the alcohol running through your veins, you knew that if you were sober this would have been enough to scare you and although you’d never admit it you were terrified and you thought you might even like it. ‘Well, if you don’t think I should go in there alone you could always come with me?’ You proposition, growing more giggly twirling your hair around your fingers. That drew his attention, still no eye contact but you could feel him watching you, watching the way your fingers moved together and how your dress fell against your curves as you shifted unable to stand still.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea sweetheart’ he says, taking the last few drags on his cigarette, flicking the butt off into the nearby grass. You feel a surge of confidence as you move closer to him, your body almost touching his as you lean in almost speaking in a whisper. Taking the bottle from his hand you take a large gulp, the red wine trickling down your chin staining the fabric of your white dress appearing almost like blood.

‘I think it’s a great idea’ you start, your face so close to his now that your eyelashes almost graze his cheek, pushing the bottle into his chest in a drunken attempt to give it back. You’d found him attractive for a while, he’d grown on you over the last few weeks, and you finally felt like it was happening, this was your chance. ‘I think you should come into the maze with me’ you giggle. ‘And who knows, maybe if you find me you can fuck me’ you say, that caught his attention. His blue eyes reflecting in the moonlight as his gaze meets yours, he almost looked angry.

This is not what he wanted, Oliver thought to himself, he didn’t want you, not like this anyway. He knew it was sick to think it, but he didn’t want you to give yourself to him, he wanted to take you for himself. As you flirted and giggled, he felt the heat rise in his chest, his heartbeat against his rib cage as his aggression soared. He thought of you as a pure little thing, he would have even said untouched if he hadn’t have heard stories from the others, but you seemed pure to him, nevertheless. He loved the thought of you helpless underneath him, for him to be both the villain and the saviour in your eyes. But hearing you speak like this ruined everything, you’d never spoken to him like this before, he didn’t want to hear you beg him to fuck you, he wanted you to beg him to stop. He’d come out here with a plan, he wanted to take you into the maze and rob you of any shred of virginity that you had left, but now with the way you were talking you were just a whore in his eyes. A slut that was unworthy of him. So, he stood there before you wordless, gazing down upon you in anger as his ocean blue eyes turned black, you stood looking up towards him as much as you could in your drunken state. You thought he seemed angry, but you were so drunk at this point that you wouldn’t have been able to tell either way, the alcohol from Oliver’s wine bottle hitting you way harder than you anticipated.

‘Maybe I can fuck you?’ He finally repeats back to you. ‘Maybe you’ll let me fuck you?’ He sneers as he stands straight, almost pushing you over as he moves closer, his chest pressed to yours. ‘Because that’s such a prize’ he continues, practically laughing in your face, if you thought he was flirting before you could now see, even as drunk as you were, that he was very much not happy. ‘Well then pretty thing, I think you should start running. Can’t catch you if you aren’t running now, can I?’ He says, so he does want you? You question to yourself. One moment he’s almost refusing you and the next he wants you? At this point you felt almost as much confusion as you felt fear. That was until he does it, he pushes you into the labyrinth making you stumble as he does, losing your balance ending up lying face down in the gravel as you turn back from your position on the floor to see him. With the moonlight shining from behind him he looked much taller and more menacing, the kind boy you knew was gone, replaced by only the silhouette of the body he once inhabited.

‘Go on then, run’ he almost growls out as your heart rate increases, you want to let out a scream, but nothing comes. Stumbling to your feet you immediately start running. Turning around to try and see if you could outrun him, you see him still standing at the entrance, then you hear it, the familiar sound of smashing glass. He’d broken the bottle against the statue that’s placed at each entrance of the maze, now only holding the broken neck of the bottle as he begins his pursuit towards you.

You run as fast as you can, rounding the corners of the maze in record speed. You knew the labyrinth well enough that you were certain you could get out before him, this is exactly why you’d been waking it all this time anyway. This was almost exactly like your nightmare you thought to yourself. When you first propositioned Oliver, this was not exactly what you’d imagined. You had pictured this going much differently, you’d giggle and run at an almost walking pace so not to make it too difficult to catch you. But this was wrong, he was wrong.

You didn’t know what exactly had changed within Oliver, but something was drastically off. The Oliver you knew would never have looked at you the way he did or spoken to you as he did. You were absolutely certain that your sweet predictable Oliver wouldn’t have smashed a bottle into a weapon and literally chased you down with it. While you may have practiced your escape from the maze many times, you now realise that you’d never practiced running it as you gasp for breath between each step of your quick moving feet.

Checking behind you Oliver is nowhere to be seen, your pace slowing as you think you may have lost him giving you some time to catch your breath. You stumble your way through the maze, you were sure you were about to get to the middle and make your way out but instead where the exit should be, a dead end. You were sure this couldn’t be right you weren’t lost, surely you couldn’t be. You begin to trace your steps back, finding the topiary equivalent of a crossroads. You see him but you're not sure he’s seen you, crossing in a slightly different direction heading towards the opposite side of the maze. Yet when you look another way, he appears to be walking towards you, and in another direction away from you. You swear you can almost feel him graze your shoulder as he passes you, his shoulder brushing past yours in different directions over and over again as you fall to the floor, crawling on your hands and knees as the hard gravel punctures the skin on your knees leaving behind a small trail of blood.

You knew there couldn’t be that many of him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you rub your eyes. Finally, re opening them you find yourself alone, was any of that real? Was he even in the maze at all? You question yourself, your sanity in its entirety. You can still taste the red wine on your lips, you thought it tasted off at the time but now you were sure, you were drugged or at the very least incredibly drunk.

Stumbling to your feet you use the hedge to the side of you to re gain your balance. Just like in your nightmare you hear the sound of gravel crunch behind you, turning your head you catch the glimmer of light reflecting from the broken wine bottle just as he swings for your neck, screaming and running immediately as you hear his pace quicken behind you. You’d completely lost the grip on where you were in the maze, you could be at the exit for all you knew, but in this moment you just ran straight. The hedges seemed to lengthen as you ran, this singular corridor appearing never ending as you sprint. Almost as if you were in a dream you seemed to run on one spot like you were practically on a treadmill, going nowhere fast. You could hear him behind you, you were sure of it, you tried to look but the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision too much. Continuing to run forwards you feel as if you can see the light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel, you can see the statue in the centre of the labyrinth dead ahead of you, a feeling of relief flooding your senses as you head straight.

You’ve made it, you’re almost out you think to yourself. Just as you meet the edge of the hedge facing the centre he steps out, your form slamming into his unmoving body forcing you to stop running.

‘Found you’ he says with a smirk, smiling down menacingly at you as his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. You knew you were facing the statue but as he begins to back you into a corner you feel yourself walk backwards into something hard, your body slamming into solid stone. Pressed against the statue at the centre of the maze you look around confused. Where were you? Had you been in the middle this whole time? You were certain you were facing towards it but now the statue was pressed behind you. Regardless it was of little consequence, he had found you.

‘Do I get my prize now little dove?’ He asks you without really asking, not waiting for a reply he wraps his hand around your throat, the other hand still wrapped around the broken neck of the bottle as he uses it to slice the fabric straps of your dress free from your shoulders, your dress falling to the ground. His hand tightening on your throat he leans in to kiss you as you resist, biting him in response feeling blood trickle down both of your lips, the metallic taste swirling around your mouth.

‘You think fighting back will stop me?’ He questions, your resistance only seeming to fuel his desire for you as he grinds his length into your thigh. ‘You thought wrong, dove’ he continues.

Throwing the bottle neck to the floor you hear it smash against the gravel in the distance, that’s one obstacle out of the way you think as he spins you around, pressing your chest into the statue that now stood in front of you. With one hand still around your throat you hear the jingle of his belt unclasping. The swimwear you were wearing from earlier in the day still firmly held against your body for only a few more moments as you feel his strong hands rip the fabric in two, throwing it to the side as you feel his fingers glide through your folds.

‘Fuck little dove’ You were almost embarrassingly wet, you hadn’t realised it until now due to the fear, but maybe that’s exactly why you were as you were. His words coming out as almost a whisper only meant to be heard by himself. To Oliver it’s almost as if you weren’t real, your skin was so soft, your entrance was so wet and warm that he could have been convinced that this was another dream of his and he’d wake up with his hand fisting his cock for relief. But this was real, he could hear your breathing below him quicken as he pushes his fingers into you, curling them as your hands tighten on the marble in front of you.

You moan as he lets out obscenities behind you, sliding more fingers inside of your tight hole, his eyes transfixed on the way his digits glide in and out of you so easily. Eventually removing his fingers from you, his grip around your neck tightens as he pulls your back to become flush with his chest, his free hand coming to cup just below your chin.

‘Spit’ he demands, grabbing your face slightly as he waits for you to drool into his hand. You look towards his hand as you spit into his open palm, a mixture of clear liquid and blood coming out of your mouth as he quickly covers his length in it, coating himself and you in the mixture as he thrusts up into you without warning.

Although you were outside, the slapping, squelching sounds seem to echo off of the walls of the labyrinth. You can hear him groan in pleasure behind you, enjoying the feeling of choking you as he gazes down at the view of himself sinking into you over and over again. He loved seeing you like this, his hand around your throat and your pussy covered in a mixture of blood, cum and spit as he pulled you back once again. His mouth meeting yours in a hurried kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth. Both of your breaths quickened you taste his blood from his split lip once more. As soon as the taste hits your tongue you feel yourself tighten around him, his free hand coming down to rub circles into your clit.

‘Cum for me little dove’ He demands as you moan, your head dropped back onto his shoulder. ‘Show me what a good girl you are’ He prompts as his fingers press harder into you, desperate to draw out your orgasm. ‘Fuck, that’s it sweet girl’ groaning into your ear as you ride out your climax around his cock, tightening on him as his pace picks up.

His movements becoming more erratic as he works towards his own peak, your body limp in his grip as he fucks you, exhausted from your own climax and over stimulated as he thrusts into you. Your moans must have been loud enough to be heard outside of the labyrinth you were sure, and now as you feel him throb inside of you, you were certain people must have heard him too. Without warning he spills inside of you, his cum painting your walls white as he bites down on your shoulder hard enough to draw blood as he climaxes.

Both breathing heavily he pulls your head back by your hair for one last lust filled kiss. His touch almost tender as he removes himself from you. You hear him fastening his belt as you hold onto the statue in front of you for balance, all of your clothing ripped and discarded on the floor you feel him place his jacket onto your shoulders.

‘You scared me’ you say with a slightly fearful smile, the evidence of your enjoyment in your voice as you speak out for the first time since entering the maze, your tone coming out rasp. ‘Maybe we should do it again some time’ you giggle as you move your ass back against him, eliciting no response other than the sound of his continued breathing. ‘Don’t you think so Oliver?’ You ask, hoping with all of your heart that finally after all of this your soft kind man would return to you but receiving no reply.

‘Oliver?’ You question into the darkness as you turn, your eyes searching for him despite having felt his touch on you only moments ago. But he was nowhere to be seen, the only trace of him being his jacket on your shoulders, his blood on your lips and the trickle of his cum now working its way down your thigh. ‘Oliver?’ You speak out quieter. He was gone and you knew it. Gathering your things you made your way back towards the house, was any of it real?

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[sp0o0kylights]

Whole thing on A03

It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it. 

Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it. 

They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned. 

They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design. 

Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy. 

"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job. 

As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family. 

Likely for business purposes.

"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead. 

It was easier than getting into it.

(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents. 

How his money went into a bank account they had access to. 

That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line. 

And boy, had he been acting out of line. 

 Getting into fights. 

Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills. 

Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.) 

So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for  was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track. 

His own plans be damned. 

"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.

 “We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot. 

The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen. 

Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.

Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas. 

"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!” 

“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him. 

Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”  

Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go. 

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong. 

xXx 

Mike hadn’t cared. 

El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months. 

Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.) 

Max was the surprising emotional standout. 

"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. 

Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them. 

Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him. 

“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage. 

Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.

(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh. 

Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again. 

Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.) 

“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.” 

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy. 

“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?” 

“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval. 

“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”  

“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max. 

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 

xXx 

“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom. 

Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble. 

“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter. 

Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”

An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago. 

“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck. 

Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles. 

“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!” 

“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.” 

Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large. 

“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road. 

“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone. 

A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it. 

Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 

“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case. 

“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second. 

Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.

Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it. 

“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort. 

Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.” 

He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone. 

It was just---Nancy did know. 

Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life. 

How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year. 

That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that. 

Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down. 

(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.) 

“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.” 

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to. 

“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”

“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin. 

“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now. 

So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm. 

“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough. 

“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…” 

She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them. 

Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”

She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt. 

“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car. 

As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit. 

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 

“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?” 

He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice. 

A third time for good measure. 

“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.” 

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 

Not anymore. 

But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused. 

Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in. 

A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy. 

Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’ 

 He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 

“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.” 

It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet. 

“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise. 

“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut. 

“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point. 

“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand. 

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 

“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?” 

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left. 

“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.  

“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin. 

Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--

There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed. 

“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking. 

“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him. 

Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal. 

“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door. 

Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open. 

Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to. 

The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward. 

Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?

Against his parents? 

Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes. 

Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing . 

He didn’t know where he was going.

He figured he’d find out when he got there. 

xXx 

Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.

But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead. 

Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that. 

Party.

This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it. 

With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough. 

Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone. 

Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him. 

It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in. 

So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away. 

(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.) 

He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.

Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt. 

Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan. 

He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can. 

“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times. 

“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out. 

“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.

“Oh god.”

Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.” 

Then; “It gets worse.” 

Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”

Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans. 

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl. 

Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid, 

“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.” 

Steve stayed silent. 

Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones. 

“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.” 

Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut. 

“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now. 

“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--” 

“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer. 

Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.” 

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry. 

For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him. 

“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.” 

“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.

Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done. 

“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”  

A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie. 

“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.” 

“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news. 

“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”

“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.” 

“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…” 

He’d put his wife first. His family, first. 

The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one. 

He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess. 

In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored. 

 They’d warned him. 

Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic. 

That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was. 

“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.” 

They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.

“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle. 

For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary. 

Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind. 

Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come. 

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie. 

Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger? 

 Steve would bow to their whims. 

 Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it. 

Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand. 

Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work. 

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 

Steve would try anyway. 

His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck. 

“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.” 

“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine. 

“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?” 

It was a downright horrible idea.

But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one. 

Not  when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it. 

He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.  

They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was. 

Steve needed that.

People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him. 

“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”

Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins. 

No matter how long the engagement. 

Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him. 

He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think. 

Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel. 

Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others. 

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 

“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.

This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.) 

Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.

Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other. 

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?” 

Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there. 

“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question. 

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 

“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart. 

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 

Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest. 

“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?

Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse. 

“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.

This did not detour the metalhead. 

“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly. 

Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”

Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve. 

For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too. 

Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!” 

Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.

It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so. 

“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!” 

Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either. 

“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.” 

At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.

Maybe.

It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying. 

Speaking of; 

 “When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.

“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.

“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been. 

“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home. 

The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice. 

Part Two

#lol remember when I said I wasnt posting parts to stuff until they were finished #THAT SURE LASTED LONG #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #0o0 fanfics #This is very Steve focused #TW his horrible parents #VERY hurt #comforts later #with eddie! #I really wanted to explore Steves Parents #in proper Rich Asshole Controling fashion #TW forced marriage #or mentions of #I also wanted to explore a lot of how the kids #and Nancy and Robin (who are also STILL kids #would react because sure they came up against monsters and the government #but neither of those things want you to like them #theyll let you know theyll eat you #Steves parents #like many rich dicks #want to isolate #want you to think theyre amazing #and its often the inner circle who knows whats up but are also caught in their own chokechain #hence the title of this fic #whiiiich is chokechain #stranger things #tw drinking

[seungkwansphd]

contusion confusion

pairing: seungcheol x afab reader word count: 4K synopsis: your clumsy lab partner left a bruise on you. seungcheol seems disproportionately upset by it, but it makes way more sense once you understand why. themes: college au, best friend seungcheol, double sided repressed feelings, possessive and jealous seungcheol. warnings: smut, mentions of bruising/marking, mention of reader being smaller than seungcheol.

a/n: i started this literally one year ago and lost steam. and then blonde.fucking.scoups comes along and truly does a number on me. anyways, bon appetit, LOL

“What the hell happened to you?” Seungcheol’s eyes widened as you stretched your legs across his lap on the sofa.

“What?” you blinked at him, taking your eyes off of the television momentarily.

“What’s this bruise from?” he asked, resisting the strong urge to touch the bluish purple mark just above your elbow.

“Ah, that!” you shrugged, “I almost tripped the other day in lab. Mingyu grabbed me, but he might as well have let me fall! Who knew someone could bruise you just from grabbing you! Like how strong is that dude even?” you rolled your eyes. Grumbling, you returned your attention to the screen.

Seungcheol stewed next to you. While he had no real claim or reason to be upset at your lab partner, every time you brought him up, it made him want to strangle someone.

Mingyu was so tall that you had to readjust the titration burette between replicates. Mingyu was all sweaty because he had come to lab right after the gym. Mingyu didn’t cover his face while sneezing.

Seungcheol eagerly awaited next semester when he wouldn’t have to hear about this man anymore.

Swallowing, your eyes flitted nervously to your best friend’s hands, which were stroking your calves absentmindedly as he watched the show. While just a mindless gesture on his part, you were struggling silently with the way it made your insides turn just slightly into jelly.

“Cheol, that tickles!” you finally pulled your legs away, curling into a ball against the armrest of the sofa.

“Oh, sorry,” he smiled sheepishly at you, seeming distracted. It almost seemed like your friend was sulking, but you couldn’t understand why. You were watching a sitcom!

…

“There you are!”

You looked up to see your lab partner standing over your table, clutching the straps of his backpack.

“Oh, hey Mingyu,” you furrowed your brows at him, “Did you need something?”

“I thought we were supposed to be working on our lab report today?” he cocked his head at you, wondering if he had gotten the time wrong.

“Oh shit!” you cursed, “I’m so sorry Gyu, I totally lost track of time!”

“That’s okay,” he laughed, “It’s not that big of a deal. You want to work on it now?”

“Sure!” you nodded, glancing at Seungcheol and Jeonghan, who were immersed in their computer programming assignments. “Do you mind if Mingyu joins us? We have a lab report.”

“Yes, we heard,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes at you, “Sure that’s fine.”

“Thanks,” Mingyu nods before taking the seat next to you.

“Did you start anything for it yet?” you asked, pulling your lab notebook out of your backpack.

“Whoa, did I really grab you that hard that day?” Mingyu exclaimed, seeing the purple bruise on your arm.

“Yes, it fuckin’ hurts too!” you squinted at him, annoyed.

“I didn’t think you could bruise someone just by grabbing them. I guess I’m just super strong, huh?” Mingyu preened.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you threatened to punch him.

Jeonghan observed Seungcheol’s shift in mood with mild interest as you and Mingyu muddled your way through your lab report.

“I need some coffee or I’m going to rip my eyeballs out,” you announced after calculating mole fractions for far too long. You stood from the table to move towards the cafe in the library. You tapped your fingertips on your wallet mindlessly as you calculated how many shots of espresso you could consume without your heart bursting out of your chest.

“YN!” a familiar voice greeted you as they tapped your shoulder.

“Ah, hey!” you smiled at Bina, your lab partner from last year. “Ugh, I’m working on a lab report and it is giving me flashbacks to last semester!”

“Oh my god, please don’t remind me!” she rolled her eyes. You two had barely managed to scrape through that class. Unlike you, it had been her only chem requirement, so she was free of the horror of lab reports now. “Who’s your lab partner this semester?”

“Mingyu Kim,” you scrunched up your nose slightly, “God bless him, but he is such a klutz.”

“Wait, no. Mingyu? The Kim Mingyu?” Bina paled slightly.

“Why? Do you know him? Is there tea?” you looked at her with wide eyes.

“No, god I wish. He’s just so hot to me! I’m jealous, I would slog through another semester of chem to be his lab partner.”

“Would you?!” you gaped at her, thoroughly alarmed. “You’re sick in the head over this man,” you laughed heartily.

“No, probably not,” Bina chuckled after giving it some more serious consideration. “But I’d think long and hard about it.”

“We’re sitting over there if you wanna stop by and say hi. I’ll introduce y’all,” you offered before placing your order with the cashier.

“I might do that,” she craned her head to see exactly where your table was. “You’re sitting with Seungcheol too? My friend is infatuated with that man. They’re in Comp Sci together. Can she come say hi too?”

“S-sure,” you answered blankly. You had no stake or claim, but something in you wanted to scream ‘NO!’ when you heard Bina ask that question.

“You’re the best, we’ll be over in a bit,” Bina smiled brightly at you, giving you a squeeze.

“Okay, I’m ready to resume crying,” you announced when you returned to the table with your beverage.

“Okay, good, cause I’m ready to take a break from crying,” Mingyu looked up at you pitifully. “I think I figured out 4. So then if we can figure out 5, then we just need to pull together some nonsense for the discussion.”

“Okay, okay,” you nodded determinedly. By some miracle, question 5 was just some simple dilution practice, so before long you and Mingyu were typing furiously, chipping away at the remainder of the lab report.

“Hey YN!” Bina’s voice pulled you out of a sentence about how (DUH) important it was to switch pipettes between samples.

“Oh, hey Bina! What’s up?” you waved excitedly at your friend, eager to do some meddling for her.

“Not much, how are you? Long time no see!”

“Yes, luckily you’re done with your chem requirements, otherwise you’d be here crying with us,” you laughed as Mingyu and Seungcheol looked on at you with interest. Jeonghan had long ago put on a pair of noise canceling headphones and was ignoring everybody. “Mingyu, Bina was my lab partner last semester. And she was a lot better than you are,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“Hey!” Mingyu pouted.

“I mean at the very least she’s my height, so I didn’t have to readjust the biuret every time we titrated,” you rolled your eyes playfully at Bina.

“It’s not my fault you’re both short,” Mingyu protested, eyes flickering to Bina for some support.

“If it makes you feel better, I was terrible in lab too,” she offered up sympathetically, “YN is my patron saint of chemistry. Did she ever tell you about how I exploded two crucibles one time?”

“No!” Mingyu looked at her with interest, “Was YN also very mean to you and made you finish your work way ahead of time?”

“Yes!” Bina giggled excitedly, “Like why can’t we pull all nighters like normal people?”

“Hell no, I’m not disrupting my sleep schedule for y’all. No thanks,” you shook your head stalwartly. “Anyways, you two should exchange numbers so you can complain about me on your own time,” you chuckled. Bina and Mingyu seemed to agree and set about that task enthusiastically.

“Ah, sorry I’m being rude, this is my friend Hayoung! We’re in a writing foundations class together so we were working on that.”

“Hi,” she waved at everyone shyly.

“Hayoung, what’s your major?” you asked.

“Computer science, focusing on human & computer interactions.”

“Ooh?! Love me a girly in STEM! These two are comp sci as well! Do you all know each other?” you asked, mostly Seungcheol as Jeonghan was still intent on ignoring you.

“Maybe? You look kind of familiar, but I don’t talk to many people in class,” he chuckled honestly.

“I think we might have a class together?” Hayoung smiled.

“Oh wonderful! You two should exchange numbers too! Maybe you can work on comp sci stuff together,” you suggested. They weren’t really giving you too much to work with, if you were being honest.

“I’d actually love that,” Hayoung’s eyes creased into a smile, “I don’t know that many people in the major.”

“Is it because they’re being sexist?” your eyes widened and you raised a fist theatrically, “I’ll fight them all for you. Cheol, you will too, right? Jeonghan’s not much use in a fight, if I’m being honest,” you commented quietly, glancing at the target of your teasing.

“Sure,” Seungcheol’s face creased into a real smile as he watched you whisper about Jeonghan animatedly.

Hayoung and Seungcheol exchanged phone numbers as you watched on excitedly. Hayoung was clearly pleased, but Seungcheol was making a face as if he had tasted something odd, but was too polite to say anything about it.

“Bina is so cute!” Mingyu remarked happily after they both left, “Lucky you with your cute lab partners!”

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes at him, “I love doing unpaid babysitting in the lab.”

…

“Cheol, can I crash on your couch?” you spoke after he picked up your call.

“Yeah, of course! Are you okay?” Seungcheol’s brow furrowed, worried.

“Yeah, I’ve just been sexiled,” you grumbled, starting your walk towards Seungcheol’s apartment. He met you about halfway and the two of you caught up on the walk back.

“How are things with Hayoung?” you asked, not quite making eye contact.

“What?” his hand slipped as he was moving to turn the doorknob.

“Hayoung, did you guys ever meet up to work on comp sci together?” you asked, lips pursed as you followed him into his apartment.

“Oh, no, she texted me but I forgot to text her back,” Seungcheol shrugged.

“Text her back, you jerk!” you poked Seungcheol insistently, “Hayoung’s cute! And she likes you.”

“That’s good for her,” Seungcheol grumbled, irritated at your attempt to push him towards someone else. Maybe his cause was truly hopeless.

“You’re acting weird,” you glanced at him oddly before flopping down on the couch.

“No, you take the bed,” Seungcheol ignored your statement and plopped down near your feet, tapping your legs lightly.

“No! I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed!” you protested.

“No, seriously, sleep on the bed. I always wake up before you anyways. I’ll end up waking you up if you sleep out here.”

“I-,” you tried to think of another excuse, but he wasn’t your best friend for no reason. He knew you just as well as you knew yourself. “Okay,” you acquiesced, hopping up from the couch to walk into his room, “Do you need anything from here before bed?” you turned to ask him, hand on the doorframe.

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, thanks again for letting me crash,” you smiled at him before pulling the door not quite closed behind you.

Once inside, you dropped your bag and helped yourself to a t-shirt and pair of shorts from Seungcheol’s drawers. You laughed at the way you were swimming in the shirt.

“I look ridiculous,” you laughed, walking back out into the living room. “Cheol, look,” you spread your arms out to your sides, showing Seungcheol the way that his t-shirt just swallowed you.

“I-,” his brain stopped for a few moments. He wouldn’t say anything, but he could in fact see your nipples as you tried to show him whatever you were showing him. “What?”

“Your shirt is too big on me,” you folded your arms over your chest, irritated that he had been listening.

“Oh yeah, well I’m bigger than you,” he replied curtly.

“Well, yeah,” you glanced away from him. He was in such an odd mood today! You grumbled just a little bit before flopping down on the bed. You were tired.

Tossing and turning, you fought for a long time to push down the arousal that was building in your gut. Being enveloped by Seungcheol’s scent was making your brain go haywire. You could feel yourself throbbing and you bit down on your fist in an effort to try and distract yourself, but that hadn’t worked. Glancing nervously at the door, you contemplated seeking some relief, but the idea of doing it in Seungcheol’s bed while he was just outside the door inspired guilt, worry, and worst of all, excitement. 

You managed to ignore yourself for about ten minutes before your left hand snuck down between your thighs, stroking them softly. Sinking deeper into Seungcheol’s pillows, you closed your eyes and imagined your best friend’s hands softly caressing and spreading your legs apart. You were embarrassed to hear the wet sounds of yourself opening up, but not embarrassed enough to stop. Your right hand came to tease the sensitive undersides of your breasts as your fingertips stroked languidly through your folds.

In the living room, Cheol wrestled with whether to disturb you or not. Several minutes ago, he had noticed that one of his textbooks was still in his room. He’d been planning to get ahead on a problem set, so it wasn’t as if he needed to disturb you, but he also didn’t see himself falling asleep anytime soon. Chewing his lip, he noticed that the door was still slightly ajar and decided to retrieve the book as you must not have gone to bed just yet.

When his eyes first landed on your face, your brows were knit up in utter concentration as your hands worked feverishly under the covers. Your front teeth had your lower lip pinned down as you bit back the loudest of your desperate noises. Seungcheol’s pupils dilated as he registered what was happening. Frantically, he tried to back out of the room, but his sweater caught the edge of a pamphlet that had been hanging off the bookshelf, sending a handful of items clattering to the floor.

“Fuck!” your eyes shot open, panicked as you met Cheol’s gaze, “I’m, you-, help!” you squeaked, pulling the covers over your face as you wished to vanish off the face of the earth.

Seungcheol’s mind went blank as he walked towards you, placing his hands over yours to pull down the covers. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, so overcome with embarrassment that you failed to register the look of hunger in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Cheol, I didn’t, I shouldn’t have done that here!”

“What?” he cocked his head to the side, brain not really functioning.

“It’s your bed!” you looked at him as if he was crazy, “I just-, you smell so good,” you spoke without thinking.

“I…,” he looked you up and down, “You’re telling me I inspired this?”

“Shit, I shouldn’t have said that, oh my god!” you groaned, trying to shrug under the covers again. Seungcheol’s large hands held you still and you watched in disbelief as he brought your left hand up to inspect it. The shine of moisture on your fingers was mortifyingly telling, but he surprised you to your core when he brought your hand to his mouth and sucked your wet fingers inside.

“Huh?!” you choked out, eyes fluttering shut as he tongue stroked between your digits, tasting you thoroughly.

“You should’ve told me about this sooner,” he told you, voice gravely with desire, “I’ve been torturing myself trying to ignore how much I think about you.”

“Oh?” you blinked at him in disbelief.

“Yes, oh,”  Seungcheol rolled his eyes at you, “Now let me help, as you requested.”

His fingers wandered. His eyes widened slightly when he felt just how wet you were. The rumble that emitted from his chest almost sounded like a purr and you found yourself quickly breathless at his ministrations.

“Cheol,” you moaned, melting slightly as his substantially larger fingers swirled dizzyingly through your folds. He smirked down at you, more than pleased to hear your saying his name in that manner.

“So needy,” he chuckled, eyes flicking over you.

“Well I was halfway there when you walked in,” you teased him and his eyes flashed at you, a subtle warning.

He raised one eyebrow at you before sliding his fingers inside of you. You choked on your breath at the intrusion, though your legs parted asking for more.

“You-, your fingers!”

“Mm, how do they feel?” he smirked at you, confident.

“I knew they’d stretch me out, bigger than mine,” you panted and his eyes widened at the realization that this wasn’t the first time you’d imagined this.

“You think about me a lot?” he raised an eyebrow at you, now cocky.

“No,” you lied, glancing away to avoid his eyes.

“My thick fingers spreading you open,” he continued anyways, smirking when he felt the way you reacted around him.

“Seung-,” you whined, overwhelmed at the way he teased you.

“God I like hearing you say my name like that,” Seungcheol shook his head, as if in disbelief. “Can I see you?” he asked, other hand itching to peel back the comforter.

You nodded wordlessly. You were slightly mortified to reveal yourself to him in this way, but his other hand quickly distracted you. You watched his eyes rove across you appreciatively until they trained in on your bruise, his jaw clenching.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he exhaled sharply.

“Why? It wasn’t on purpose!”

“No, it’s not-,” Seungcheol paused. “That’s not why. I was annoyed because the idea of getting to be the one to leave marks on you has rendered me…basically unable to produce coherent thought.”

“Oh? OH,” your eyes widened, gears in your brain turning. “I mean…all yours, Cheol,” you smiled sheepishly at him.

“Really?” he groaned, looking at you appreciatively as he thought about exactly where and how he’d like to mar your skin.

“Seungcheol!” you snapped at him as he continued to mumble to himself.

“Maybe a handprint here?” he grazed your upper thigh with his palm, eyes dancing mischievously at you. “Or a necklace of hickeys,” he growled as he nipped at the base of your neck. He had decided to seize the opportunity to tease you, and as much as you liked it, you only had so much patience.

“Cheol, please,” you pouted, grabbing at his collar, “I can’t take anymore of this.”

“Yes princess,” he pulled an old nickname out of the vault. You melted.

“Mmmpf!” he smothered your next protest with a kiss.

“Seung. Cheol!” you moaned desperately as his hand grabbed your thigh, hard.

The strength in his grip set your nerves alight and your head fell back against the bed, arching your chest up towards him. His mouth took the opportunity to latch onto the underside of your breast, biting down firmly. Your hand fisted itself in his hair.

It was so much sensation. It was so good.

“Hn,” he pulled back with a breathless smile. His eyes flicked down to the spots where his mouth and hand had been and his lips curled into a cocky grin at the bright red marks. With any luck those would be bruised nicely tomorrow.

“That was…a lot,” you murmured as you caught your breath.

“In a bad way?” Seungcheol’s brow furrowed with sudden worry.

“No,” you smiled at him, slightly fuzzy, “In a good way. A really good way.”

“Really?” his eyebrows raised back up with delight. “So you won’t mind if you bruise a little?”

“I don’t think I’ll mind even if you bruise me a lot,” you answered after some thought.

Your best friend’s eyes darkened. The way you had rearranged his words hit the possessive button in his brain like crazy. His lips nibbled and nipped their way down your torso while his hand came to cup your breast. His grip was on the hard side of firm as his lips latched onto a spot on your inner thigh. His tongue stroked across the sensitive skin as he sucked firmly.

Your thighs parted of their own accord as you squirmed at this building onslaught. As you shifted, you could hear the wet sounds of yourself spreading. Open and inviting.

“Cheol, please,” you tried to pull him towards you. “Please,” you panted.

Seungcheol, the bastard, increased the intensity of his sucking before releasing his lips with a loud ‘pop!’. The jolt of the disconnection sent a shiver through you and the spot where his mouth had been now felt woefully cool.

“Pretty,” he looked at the red mark appreciatively. The thought that you would be reminded of this encounter over the next weeks sent a streak of pride through him that was unexpected.

“Seungcheol!” you grabbed his face by his cheeks, directing his attention to you. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to kick you out and take care of it myself!”

His eyes widened and he chuckled sheepishly before reaching over you to pull a condom out of the nightstand. You watched, almost painfully aroused, as he undressed and unrolled the condom over himself. His cock bobbed proudly as he pulled his sturdy torso over you, slotting himself between your thighs.

You sighed when his cock came to rest against your core. You could already tell it was going to be good.

“Seungcheol, please,” you placed your hands around his jaw. “Need you.”

He nodded, reaching down to slip himself inside of you. A soft gasp escaped you as his head pushed in and you couldn’t help but relish in the stretch. Seungcheol took his time sinking into you. The whines and gasps that you made were way too good to be rushed.

“Cheol,” your hands clutched at the back of his thick neck until he was pressed flush against you. “Fuck,” you exhaled into his ear.

Seungcheol’s hand was gripping your hip so hard as he struggled to keep control of himself. Of all the things that he found overwhelming, the way you pulsed and squeezed around him, the little sounds you made as he had pressed into you…the worst of all was the way you smelled. His hand fisted itself further in your hip as he inhaled you, a most intoxicating scent.

You clenched around him as his hand tightened. He was sure to bruise you there, too, and you couldn’t wait. Knowing that you’d be able to see these marks as evidence that this wasn’t another crush induced dream made you feel crazed in a different way.

“You feel perfect,” Seungcheol groaned against your skin as his hips started to move. “I just knew it.”

Clench.

You hooked your legs around his hips as he pumped into you deeply. Each thick stroke pushed you dangerously closer to the precipice and you were ready to fall off the edge.

“Cheol,” you pulled back slightly to meet his blown out gaze. “I’m there.”

“Go ahead,” he encouraged you, aching to feel you come apart around him. “Be good and come for me.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let go. Your hands clutched desperately at his shoulders as your pussy fluttered around him. You didn’t even know what kinds of sounds you made as you simply didn’t have the presence of mind.

“So good,” he smiled, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. “So good,” he grunted before his hips shuddered and he emptied himself inside of you.

You wrapped your arms around his torso as he slumped down on top of you. He smiled when you gave him a squeeze with your entire body.

“So you’re kind of possessive, huh?” you chuckled softly after you’d regained your sanity.

Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut with a laugh. He hadn’t realized it, or maybe it was just because it was you, but yes. Yes he was.

#scoups smut #seungcheol smut #svthub #seventeen smut #scoups fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #svt fanfic #seungcheol x reader #seungkwansphd:writes

[konigsblog]

‘smile for the camera, mäuschen’

pornstar könig and his little, naive plaything.

mdni - tw: dubcon (coercion), toxic relationship, manipulation, guilt tripping. photo credit @ave661

you knew könig was a pornstar, he made sure you knew before getting into a serious relationship with you, so that it wouldn't cause any issues. you had no issue with this, only feeling slightly jealous at the thought of him having sex with other women for content... ‘til könig perked in.

“you could always join me instead, dear.” he comments, leaning back on the couch with his thick thighs spread out. the thought of being on the internet recording yourself having sex with your boyfriend wasn't exactly something you wanted to do. but, könig pushed. he wouldn't let go without the answer he wanted.

“please, mouse... it'll be fun, it's how i earn my money. do you want me to go get it elsewhere?”

his wording made your jaw drop slightly. of course you didn't want him sleeping with other women! but, this was his job; how he earned his money. he couldn't just drop it. “if you were committed to this relationship, you wouldn't have such an issue with either me having sex with women to earn my money, or becoming a part of it. what would go wrong? you're with me, safe in my arms, liebling...”

from then, he'd constantly pushed, manipulating you into saying yes, even if you were on edge. he had you on your back with the camera recording slightly from above, just over his shoulder. the flashing red light reminded you that it was there, that there were people watching. you were reminded könig was also there when he slapped his thick, meaty shaft down onto your clit, rubbing it with his tip. pearly beads of precum spilled onto your stomach, making you gulp nervously. he pinched your nipples, twisting them before angling his cock and pushing deep inside.

your mouth fell open, back arched and your body jolting with nerves. your bottom lip quivered, anxious as he continued to grind himself deeper, cursing under his breath at the tightness. you held back the tears that filled your waterline, gulping and bunching your hands into tight fists the more he filled your hole. you couldn't stop pulsing around him; squeezing his big dick with your gummy, tight walls. he furrowed his eyebrows together, eyes shut tightly as he bucked inside, filling you to the brim with his huge size. a small tear slowly rolled down your cheek, not visible to the camera from the angle.

“smile, mäuschen.” he threatened, wiping away your tears and rocking his hips slowly. your breathing picked up, became laboured and heavy and desperate the more he pushed inside. you gasped quietly, biting your bottom lip while rocking your hips in harmony. truthfully, you'd rather be anywhere else than on your back with your boyfriend's huge cock inside your cunt, for the internet to see. but in this moment, you couldn't do anything but freeze and take whatever könig decided to give you, no matter how rough or gentle he made it.

a low and guttural chuckle left his lips, with his dick throbbing inside your wetness and seeping out thick drops of cum. each thrust könig made knocked your body forward — probably due to the size and the impact his broad hips would make against your ass, his huge stature enveloping and curling around you. you gasped when he wrapped his arms around your body, picking you up into his arms and fucking you whilst standing. only drilling you deeper onto his massive size. you sobbed out, gripping his shoulders firmly and burying your face in his chest as he bucked and drove his hips up and into your slicken, wet folds.

“keep going for me-ja... good girl...” you could feel the wet head of his dick rubbing against your gummy cervix, smacking against it with each thrust, impaling you on his length.

broken sobs became muffled, drowned by your moans as he continued to fuck you harder. your eyes wet with your orgasm and anxiety, and the tightness in your stomach threatening to release, for you to coat and cover könig in your sweet, slick cum. you felt lightheaded — perhaps from exhaustion, maybe from anxiety, but the more könig rutted thrusted his hips against you, the wetter you became, leaving you now hot and flushed.

“that's it, my dear. you're doing well--look at the camera for me--ja... that's it, good.” maintaining eye contact with the camera, the live comments degrading you for getting fucked like a dirty whore.

könig breathed heavily beside your ear, growling out german while you grinded and rocked your hips down against him. you couldn't help it anymore. the tickling sensation of his pubes against your clit and your slit swallowing everything whole was driving you utterly crazy. you squirted down his shaft, lifting your hips off of him, your legs still wrapped around and clinging to his waist for support while he carried you with one, large hand cupping your ass, the other on your waist.

your cunny dripped with euphoria. juices dribbling onto his big dick while he groaned at the tight pain in his balls. “come on... your turn, then.” könig smirked a cruel grin at you, placing you onto your feet and sitting down on the bed, his bare body inviting and his thick, muscular thighs wet with his hot cum smeared along the skin.

“what?” you let out, a stuttered cry for help and support. the viewers watched as you nervously took a step closer, straddling his hips and easing yourself down onto his huge length. the veins on his shaft prominent, grazing against your walls at an agonisingly slow pace. two large hands guided your hips and you sobbed needily, anxious as he began fucking you down, showing you how to ride him.

“just like this, liebling...” your eyes rolled back at the sound of his accented and low voice, moaning out at the texture of his dick against your cunny. your pussy weeped cum, drooling with ecsasty. he spanked your tight ass, his other hand tugging at your hardened nipples while he kneaded the flesh and fat on your ass between his fingers, slapping you whenever your pace faltered.

“gutes mädchen, es geht dir so gut.” you panted, eyes drunkenly looking into his, filled with lust and piercing into yours. his silver eyes growing darker the longer and faster you rode him, ‘til he was pushing you down, making sure you took every single drop of his thick and hot cum like a good girl. you cried out, feeling as he stuffed you full of his semen, with your stomach tight and your hole gaping with his seed oozing out.

“all of it, my dear. take it all.”

translation: gutes mädchen, es geht dir so gut. (good girl, you're doing so well)

#i wish he was mine #DROOLING FOR THIS #könig fanart #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig mw2 #konig #könig #konig x reader smut #konig x reader #konig call of duty #cod #call of duty #mw #mwii #mw2 #orla speaks

[uvuyai]

ft. YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL.

Gn reader

Minors DNI, below this point below includes suggestive wording, disturbing content and nsfw parts and such.

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who you met when you recently retired from your position.

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who has three kids, one girl and two boys and married to a loving housewife but got divorced a few years later and he started fall in love with you.

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL likes when you take stops by his office when you don't have any planned or on your schedule. Even when you have to go he insists on talking about life(he just wants to get to know you better for the future.)

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who wishes to try out his kinks on your fragile body. He has a rope kink, breeding, and voice kink and bondage kink. He is a massive guy and could crush you(if you're into manhandling then yeah🤭).

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who wants eight children with you. Even though he had three he just went to his wife's boundaries and didn't want to push her too far.

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who's a really nice guy but deep down he's a sadistic closed minded person you'd ever meet. But of course that's way deep down. He won't show it unless you force him in any type of way.

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who secretly threatens people that you often hang around. He wants all your attention all on him and only him. He could go as far as to brutally kill them or torture them.

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who takes photos without you knowing and fills them up in a journal he has in his desk drawer. He'd pit description of what you did that day rather it being you sitting in the park reading a book or just having a breakdown which makes him randomly call you and comfort you(without you knowing he spied on you).

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who's really addicted to your praises and affection. He guilt trips when you don't do it at least once a day.

✎ YANDERE DILF MILITARY GENERAL who is addicted to your body. Your soft lips he wishes were wrapped around his cock as you struggle to fit it down your throat. Your small hand he compares all the time and wants to see them tied up as he rails you into oblivion.

I have a couple of fics on their way so yeah🌝💪

#𓆩ri.txt📝𓆪 #𓆩!smutty.𓆪 #𓆩ri.𓆪 #𓆩♡𓆪 #✉️.txt #✎ yandere #✎ suggestive 𓆪 #✎ yandere dilf military general #yandere oc #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere x reader smut

[kelstey]

who did this to you?

mattheo riddle x reader

warnings : domestic abuse, mentions of disordered eating, toxic relationship (not with mattheo)

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

"gosh, will you hurry up?" cormac paced back and forth in your dorm as you were getting ready.

"i'm trying," you said trying to control your tears. you quickly set your foundation which was heavily packed on, covering the yellowing bruise underneath.

"fucking finally," he groaned. you got up and placed your robe on before the two of you walked down to the great hall for breakfast. thankfully it was the weekend so you could avoid as many people as possible.

you had tried getting out of the relationship, but he always gaslit and guilt tripped you into coming back. cormac had essentially isolated you from 90% of your friends and anyone you ever came into contact with.

he knew what he was doing, he was limiting your options of people to go to by making you out to be a bad person when you were secretly getting abused physically and mentally by cormac.

at first, he was the sweetest boy you had ever met. you thought you had met the love of your life - the man you would marry. you were terribly

wrong.

as soon as he had you wrapped around his finger, he switched. he constantly picked apart your appearance, belittling you and leaving you with minimal confidence.

he once accidentally slapped you during an argument, he told you he would never do it again. he lied.

at first your friends were concerned, they tried helping you, but cormac threatened you that if you told them, he'd hurt you. you were already hurting enough and you didn't think it was worth the risk.

soon rumours made their way around school that you talked shit about your friends, leading many of your friendships to end. you didn't know it was cormac who has behind all of it.

you spotted matthe staring at you already as you walked into the hall. you absolutely hated him - not for anything in particular, the two of you just never got along and have disliked each other since.

you sat down next to cormac as usual. a plate appeared in front of you, and you began to put bits of breakfast onto the plate. "remember to watch what you eat," he dug a hand into your thigh which caused you to lightly whimper as his nails etched into your skin.

"yes," you looked down at the plate, hardly enough for a baby yet alone a growing teenage girl. you began eating some fruit - filling yet good and cormac always appreciated you eating

'healthy' even though you couldn't give a fuck less what he liked, you would eat whatever when you were alone without him.

you finished and gazed around the hall, your eyes landing onto mattheos again. you sent him daggers, and he rolled his eyes before speaking to his friends.

"i need to go to the bathroom," you leaned into cormac's side. he nodded and you left the hall.

you walked down the hall and to the girl's bathroom, you looked into the mirror, noticing your makeup was slightly smudged and you could see the bruising.

"shit," you panicked, you looked through your bag for some powder and concealer, oblivious to mattheo who just entered the bathroom.

"who did this to you?" you heard a voice say and you jumped, dropping your concealer.

"fucking hell mattheo, do you know how expensive that shit is?" you picked up the concealer, forgetting momentarily about the clear bruise on your face.

"answer the question. who did this to you?" he took a step closer to you.

"no one," you said, it was hardly above a whisper though. you could feel tears well up in your eyes as mattheo observed your face.

"i'll fucking kill him," without a second to spare mattheo turned around and made his way back to the hall.

you followed, quick on his trail. "mattheo, please, don't," you tried to grab onto his arm.

"no - he fucking hurt you! why should he get away with that?!" mattheo was clearly angry, both at himself and cormac.

you didn't say anything and let go of his arm, looking down at the ground. you wanted mattheo to batter the shit out of cormac, but some part of you didn't want to see the guy you were dating get punched to death.

"i'll keep you safe," mattheo's hand reached for your chin, pushing it up slightly so you were looking up at him. "i won't let anyone ever hurt you again."

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

#mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin #slytherin boys #fanfic