#Knowing I'm that much closer to my next paycheck | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lixiektty · 1 year

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꒰ঌ cupid's cams : yang jeongin ໒꒱ — prev ▸ next

word count: 5.4k (i just kept writing i am so sorry), warnings/kinks: dom camboy!jeongin, sub!reader, language, lingerie, lubed up jeongin (holy shit), male maturation, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, praise, a little degradation and objectification, they're both hella oblivious of the other's feelings, jeongin's lowkey a perv, mentions of sex but don't fuck... yet, pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!

author's note: apologies for this being a little late, i promise i'm gonna figure out a good writing/posting schedule so i'm not leaving you all thirsty for more. i'm trying and working on a lot right now, trust! for now, enjoy cupid's cam and march madness starting next month!!!!

taglist: @hyynee, @enha-cafe, @xiaoderrrr, @lethallyprotected

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cupid's cams masterlist

jeongin had intended to keep his real job a secret. after seeing you so helpless trying to find a well-paying job, he couldn't resist and felt like he really needed to help.

you guys sat on the couch, legs draped over his lap—not that he minded much anyways, he enjoyed the comfort. you were scrolling through your for you page, giggling and turning your phone every few scrolls to show jeongin the tiktoks you came across.

he loved your smile. it kind of ruined him that he started to feel a way about you this past year, you were his thoughts when streaming—wishing he were speaking to you, and when doing his more explicit streams he'd think of you as well. something he regretted, but honestly just couldn't stop doing. you were in his head constantly.

"y/n," he called.

you hum in response, but your eyes don't leave your phone. he taps your calf that finally gets your attention.

"put your phone down, i need to talk to you," jeongin says. he sounded serious, so you did as told and sat up straight and taking your legs off of him to sit criss-cross. "what's up?"

"i... fuck," he curses, not knowing how to even start, "i have a job that i think could really help you, but i need your trust."

"of course, you can trust me jeongin," you say, smiling his direction, "but, tell me now. you're freaking me the hell out."

jeongin chuckled and leaned forward a bit, "okay, okay. there's a site where you can stream for people and get paid for talking to them and do things they ask."

you nod slowly. you didn't know where this was about to go.

"it can... lead to other things, and those other things really bring in the cash," he announces, which catches your interest though, what other things? "i don't get all my cash from the cafe. i do these streams near a every other day basis."

your mind began to really think of any of the conclusions to the 'other things' jeongin was talking about, and your mind only went to one thing. "you're.."

"i jerk off for thousands to see and get paid," he interpreted before you could've even asked the same thing he had just said, "now you don't have to, but if you're looking for a good paycheck you can help me out with my upcoming stream and i'll split the tips."

"you want me to have sex with you... on camera?" you ask.

god just the thought of that. jeongin already had an amazing build, from everything you've seen, and to see him like that—bare for you. fuck. your stomach filled with slight flutters and it was hard to not shuffle a bit.

"not exactly," jeongin finally answered. this causing you to let out a sigh of relief, not only because being naked for everyone on the internet to see worried you a bit but you didn't know if you could fuck your best friend for the first time while everyone was watching either, "you don't have to be naked if you don't want to, something simple like sucking me off will do good. i'll get you a mask to cover your eyes."

it didn't sound too bad. it's money, a possible new job, jeongin, and a chance to really get closer to your best friend like you've thought about once before.

"okay," you let out, jeongin's head snapping your way with shock read on his face, "okay, i'll do it."

"seriously?" he asked.

"yeah, what could go wrong?" exactly.

jeongin nodded and fixed his posture, not sure how to move forward, "okay, cool. how about tomorrow? i like doing two or three streams a week and i've only done one."

tomorrow? so soon, too soon. things could change so quick within 24 hours. you weren't gonna lie— it began to freak you out a bit.

so when you were waiting in the hall, outside the door of jeongin's apartment the next day, you couldn't think straight. you stood there patiently but wondered what could be taking so long.

eventually, you heard the sound of the locks being turned, door opening and revealing the handsome face of your best friend. his smile shines, dimples clear as day. you knew you probably looked flustered, jeongin reading your expression oh so clearly.

"come on in, bestie," he says, moving to the side to give you enough room to walk in, "how you feeling?" jeongin asked after closing the door.

you couldn't express in words how much you were feeling. it was a mix of excitement, anxiety than ran through your veins, and... possible feelings? no. you had been in your head since you went home last night and couldn't stop letting your thoughts overwhelm you.

"i'm..." you start, trying to collect your thoughts but only being met with fear, "okay, honestly i'm freaking out."

jeongin farrowed his brows, walking over to the kitchen to grab you some water, "why so?" he asks.

"it's... a lot," you say.

"we don't have to, you still have time to back out... even though i brought you gifts~" he says in a singsong like tone, handing you a bottle of water with a sly smirk on his face as he walks into the hall towards his room.

you follow him hesitantly, stopping at the door when you saw a fancy bag from the boutique across town. did he really go all this way... for me?

"come, look," he said, motioning you over.

you could only wonder what else was in that bag besides the mask he promised you. it was bigger as if something else was in there, so what possibly could it be? you walked into his room, noticing the purple lights bouncing off the walls, large set up on the right side of his room.

"maybe seeing these will make you feel better," jeongin announces, waiting very patiently for you to look in the bag. he didn't care how much he spent on something, as long as it was for you.

you reach in with anticipation, feeling a box. you pull it out and take the ribbon of the bougee packaging. when you open it, an elegant, white, lacey mask sat in it.

"what do you think?" jeongin asked.

you looked up and smiled at him, "love it, thank you," you reply while pulling him into a hug, "why such a big bag for this small ass box though?" you ask once you're out of his embrace.

"look inside," he says.

you look at him questionably, sitting the box on the bed and reaching back inside only to find some more bundled up white lace. the fabric untwined the further it was taken from the bag.

lingere. he bought lingere.

"what's... this?" you ask. it was so obvious what it was, you knew this. but playing dumb was the only thing you could think of doing to really get this picture through your skull.

"wanna get paid somehow, don't you? how you work your mouth helps but showing at least a little something will get you a whole lot more," jeongin admits. he also just couldn't help himself when he saw it, matching your mask perfectly, knowing you'd look absolutely stunning.

when buying it, he could only think about fucking you in it— jerking off the minute he got into his car. he thanked you for suggesting tinted windows when he first got it. the thought of you was all he needed to get hard for the show, already uncomfortably hard in his pants while being in your presence.

"i'm only trusting you 'cause this is what you're good at... somehow," you said with a suspicious look on your face that made jeongin chuckle.

you examined the piece of lingerie, the lacy parts barely covering your boobs and stomach, small enough to fit you tight and show off your body just as jeongin wanted.

"now, if at any point you get uncomfortable or just not feeling it anymore, tap me three times okay?" jeongin asked, serious tone in his voice that caused your head to turn.

"okay," you nod.

"try it," he said, turning your body fully by your shoulder and moving closer until the gap between you two was almost closed.

jeongin brings your hand up to his chest, looking down at you and waiting for you to move. you were so caught in moment, the only you could do was look right back at him—sinking into his gaze. once you regain your consciousness, you lift your fingers one, two, three times to pat his chest gently.

"good," he says, smile playing along his face again, "now go get changed, 10 minutes 'til showtime."

he walks away from you, hand falling from his chest and causing you to miss the warmth of his body almost touching yours.

instead of standing there— like an idiot, you thought, you rush to the bathroom, stripping from your clothes entirely until you were left bare in his bathroom. he was right in the next room, you could tell him fuck the stream and beg for what you really wanted. he'd be freaked out though, he wouldn't want to fuck me.

the white fabric hugged your body, nipples so exposed you could see them hardening through. you didn't know what to think, you had never seen yourself like this... and maybe this would alter something within jeongin.

walking out with nothing but lingerie on with all goodies exposed, clothes in hand, it was almost embarrassing to you. jeongin's eyes met your figure the minute you walked back in, in a different set of clothing.

"woah, y/n you look... hot," he admits, scanning you from head to toe.

his gaze intimidated you a bit, sharp eyes looking at you hungrily.

"it's not too much?" you ask, walking closer towards him.

"it's more than i'd prefer," he shrugs, fingers grazing the strap on your shoulder.

you felt small standing in front of him, knees almost buckling under you, "what would you prefer me to wear instead?" you asked, shyly.

"nothing," jeongin replied, throwing his shirt off and smirking as he walked to his chair when he noticed your reaction to his insane structure that you were familiar with seeing before—now, seeing him like this sent a rush straight to your core.

you sat down on the bed, watching jeongin's focused face behind the monitor. he was in the middle of getting his stream set up, making sure to announce it on all his 2nd accounts.

"countdown is starting, you sure you're in all the way?" jeongin asked before the 15 second countdown ended.

"positive," you reassure, sending a thumbs up his way.

he smiles, nodding and sitting back while waiting for the stream to start. you couldn't think of anything else to look at but him, he was so admiring, charm basically shining right through him.

you hear a sound, signaling that the stream has started. jeongin greets them, thanking them for joining him tonight, "the strip goal is sent at 200 tonight, i know you guys could get there and... i have a surprise for you all later on in the show."

the surprise in question, being you. the more you thought about it the more you let yourself feel less stressed about it all, it was really just a paycheck. the only thing you worried about was how this would alter yours and jeongin's realationship. if it even would, you didn't know.

"for now just focus on me," jeongin says, his tone so seductive that your thighs squeeze shut.

jeongin leans over to grab a bottle, containing lube you assumed, pouring the liquid into his palm. he lubes his torso up as if he was apply lotion, both hands shiny and slick running down his body. he'd brush past his nipples every once in a while, groaning by instinct.

the tip jar sound went off, jeongin giggling when he reads a certain comment begging for him to pull his cock out already, "let's get to 200 and i'll show you what i know you guys want to see."

he communicated with his watchers so well, knew what to do to get the money, satisfy each viewer and himself all at once. really, in his mind, he was putting on this show for you. the colored lights shined off his body, illuminating him in such a way.

you really wanted to get up right now and say, "fuck it," forcing his pants down and stuffing your mouth. all your thoughts now were so lewd, especially compared to how you were thinking just seconds ago.

his hands slid down his torso gently, the sound of the lude being moved around clear to your ears. you felt almost as eager as his viewers, wanting him to hurry up and get on with it so you could see his cock that so desperately needed to be touched.

the sound of the tip jar went wild, jeongin turning it off due to the loud sound. he smirked seeing the overflowing tips he received, going way past his goal, "eager, are we?" he asked giggling, sex to my fucking ears, you thought.

jeongin stood up, and you knew once his pants were down you would no longer have to imagine what his pretty cock looks like. he slowly brought down his sweats, stopping when they were right under balls, tip red and leaking, veins protruding along the shaft.

your eyes were locked on his grip, fist full of his manhood, and with his face not being shown on the screen as he stood, he was looking at you as he slowly worked himself up. a soft groan left his pretty lips, eyes glued to your form, moving his fist up and down before sitting back down. he gets ahold of the lube again, applying one line against his shaft before putting the bottle down and once again fucking his fist.

you on the other hand, sat on the bed with an ache forming at the pit of your stomach. each movement forward would apply pressure to your clit, craving any type of friction whatsoever while this view was in front of you.

jeongin tried to pretend he wasn't as close as he really was, ready to cum the minute he laid eyes on you in the damn lingerie. the lewd sounds made by him caused you to clench your thighs tighter and tighter.

"ah— so fuckin' good," jeongin mumbled, eyes closed, adam's apple moving with each noise he let out. his pace in thrusts increased along with his beautiful moans that filled the atmosphere.

you couldn't help but grip at the bedsheets. you were so desperate at this point, it was fucking with your head. to have him fuck you relentlessly is all you could ever imagine now until it happened.

jeongin had never seemed the type to do something such as camming. you never thought about him sexually in the first place, he was always just too cute. even with all the girlfriends he's had, you couldn't imagine him actually fucking anybody.

this was a completely different side of jeongin that surprised you, in the best way possible. his free hand laid on his chest, nipple between his fingers— the veins in his hands were so damn noticable, his breath was speeding up, back arching, the way his bicep curved and moved with each friction that was made, the view was just too much you had to look away.

jeongin noticed, not happy with your response. he began making little 'mmhs' and 'ahhs' to grab your attention. you tried to ignore his doings, only pissing him off a bit more. your ears were hot, just as hot as your cheeks due to the embarrassment you were feeling at the moment.

"this cock's all for you," jeongin coos causing you to pull up your head, snapping it his direction. he was looking at the monitor but it felt like his words were meant for you. he turned his head, heavy lidded eyes looking at you and repeating, "all for you."

if he kept this up you were going to fall. hard. so hard that you didn't know if you'd be able to hide it for long. his hips rolled as he fucked his fist, moans only getting louder and higher with time.

"so fucking close," he whimpered.

your head spun like crazy. it was like he already had control over you when doing such little, not even touching you—yet you were a wet mess, freezing while sitting on this bed.

jeongin's brain was turning to mush, he knew soon he'd be able to cum in your mouth or at least on your face but for now, he'd have to wait for the sake of the stream—knowing he gains more when teases, and his followers knows he loves to tease.

"holy fuck—" jeongin arched his back off of his chair, edging himself before you could come on screen. his pretty lubed up cock fell against his stomach, the prettiest whimpers leaving his mouth, hands gripping onto the chair. who would've thought this is what your best friend was up to in his free time?

jeongin was busy catching his breath, looking over at you with a smirk. his attention was back to the chat, reading all their praises.

"i have a guest, for the first time ever. she's gonna help me out today," he announces, you took that as your cue and put on the eye mask.

your anxiety peeked once you were found on the screen. the chat exploded seeing you in the lingerie, body absolutely perfect to all the pervs watching. you wave slightly, too afraid to even say anything.

"don't be shy. they're nice," jeongin reassured.

you get on your knees, right beside the chair, "hi everyone," you say. everyone seemed to like you already.

jeongin seemed to notice your shaky voice though, and how your eyes looked everywhere but at him or the screen.

"this is her first time camming so she's a bit shy, but i know you'll do good angel," he says, petting your head softly and running his fingers through your hair.

jeongin turned until you were right between his legs, painfully hard cock before your eyes. all you could do was look up at jeongin and wait for his signal. his big hands create a makeshift ponytail. you were quick to grab ahold of his cock, sensitive to the touch and causing jeongin to gasp.

finally, you built up the courage to close your mouth around the head, slowly taking more of him in until your throat closed around him— gagging.

"careful angel, take your time," jeongin says, pulling your head up gently.

you two created a gentle rhythm, bobbing your head, every vein running along your tongue. it was really happening, your first time ever being intimate with your best friend and so many people were watching it happen. jeongin's pretty moans filled the room once again, sending more shocks throughout your body.

"they said you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth," jeongin comments, "does it make you feel better knowing they like you?" he asks.

you pull him out of your mouth and nod, giving him a soft smile, "yeah."

"good, you're doing so good." he praises. just another thing for you to imagine when thinking about fucking him.

you formed a ball of spit on your tongue before letting it drip onto his tip, a soft sigh leaving his mouth at the sight and feeling. your tongue laid flat against it, brushing along his slit every so often. jeongin could not take this anymore, he only wished he could fuck you right now and see how much of a mess you'd actually be.

the thought wouldn't leave his brain, to have you under him full of his cock, dumb and drooling, tears escaping your eyes. he'd do it if it wasn't for everyone watching and knowing what you agreed on beforehand. he just knew your cunt felt way better than how your mouth already felt.

you took him in so well, slowly but surely being able to take more of him without gagging. he was too big and he found it amusing seeing you struggle with a mouth full of dick.

"look at you," he says, corner of his lip curling up.

jeongin was already so god damn obsessed with you, your hot and wet mouth covering him and leaving him to imagine it was your pussy providing the pleasure to his cock instead.

"if only i was fucking you angel, god you have no idea how slutty and messy you'd look," jeongin groaned, chuckling slightly after.

his words effected you like no other, the lace covering you soaking more by the minute. the thought didn't leave your mind either, you just knew he'd be rough with you especially with the way he was handling your head right now— his dominance just escalating as you went on.

"fuck," jeongin cursed, along with some groans following. he couldn't resist when his hips began to buck up, tip hitting your throat with force.

you close your eyes, hands holding onto jeongin's thighs. at first, he thought you'd tap out but instead you allowed him to fuck your throat as fast and as hard as he wanted to. though, you felt a little ache in the back of your throat, you still somehow enjoyed how he was having his way with you.

your mask began to slip, ribbon loosening more with each forceful movement of jeongin's hand. he hadn't noticed since his head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. your hands were too busy gripping on his thighs for dear life to help yourself.

eventually he looked down, heart falling to his stomach when he saw your eyes slowly being exposed. he took his hands off and stopped all his actions to tighten the mask. he did it quick and with ease, anxious to continue mouthfucking you.

"pretty girl, you are doing so well," jeongin whispered, bending down to kiss your forehead then sat back, hand tangled in your hair once again.

his lips pressing against your forehead was something you wanted to feel everyday for the rest of your life, it was so comforting. hearing him say that you were doing a great job and give you a forehead kiss as a badge of honor really pulled at your heartstrings.

you whine around him, tears were daring to fall from your eyes and seep through the mask. this action sent vibrations to his cock, causing him to buck and whimper quietly. every time a simple curse or whimper fell from his lips it was impossible to not let out a muffled moan yourself, which only pushed jeongin further.

jeongin was losing it as he tried to contain himself. the urge to scream your name from the top of his lungs was killing him, his nickname for you being the only thing he was able to let out.

"fuck angel," he groans. his thrusts into your mouth began getting sloppy, the room was drowned in his beautiful noises.

at this point he had completly forgotten about the stream as he continued abusing your poor throat. he let out deep grunts, pulling your hair with an extremely tight grip to keep you in place.

"angel's just my pretty little fuck hole isn't she?" jeongin asked, knowing his question couldn't be answered by you but you both knew the answer to it.

it was so damn obvious, and you only wished he would continue to make you feel like just a mouth to fuck. you had felt some type of pride making him feel this way, already so fucked out from the feeling of your lips sucking him in.

"i'm so close, make me cum, make me cum angel," jeongin repeats, voice higher pitched as he grew closer to his high, "so good for me."

one of your hands fall from his thighs to cover his that sat in your hair. you could feel his skin covered in lube, no doubt parts of your hair were covered as well. you didn't care, you'd get as messy as you could if that meant jeongin was the cause.

you bobbed your head even with his dick partly down your throat. you did everything in your power to give him the best head he's ever got. jeongin was whining and loosing his grip on your hair. he twitched in your mouth, fucking up into it roughly, saying things that were incoherent.

jeongin's other hand rushed to grab yours that was still gripping onto his thigh. he held it tightly, face scrunching and basically drooling from the mouth at you being a spit stained mess.

"oh fuck!" he cried out, hips stutter up into your mouth, hot cum spill down your throat.

jeongin pulled up your head slowly, still cumming as he slid along your tongue. he tasted surprisingly better than anyone before, he sounded pretty too— his constant whimpers you wanted to hear more of each time he let one out. music to your ears.

you hummed in satisfaction, watching him ride out his high. he threw his head back against his head rest, eyes closed and looking so fucking hot. not like he wasn't already before, seeing him like this and knowing you were the cause of his fucked outness drove you insane.

you wanted to have him drilling inside you rapidly until you couldn't feel anything, numb to the touch. time could only tell, you weren't gonna give your hopes up. hoping this wouldn't be the last time you and jeongin would be doing something like this.

eventually, jeongin pulled your head all the way back until he fell from your mouth— waiting for you to swallow. your throat was so abused that swallowing caused you to wince.

the boy was breathing heavily, his grip falling from your hair. his body became less tense, stomach unclenching, beautiful body on display for everyone looking at him. honestly, you wish you had your phone to capture this exact moment, he was definitely one of the most gorgeous men you've met.

a smiled played along his face, eyes opening and looking down at you. he turned his head to the monitor, seeing all the tips that were given while he wasn't looking, so he could pay attention to you.

"thank you guys, i hope you enjoyed," jeongin says, breathlessly. he was rushing to get off the stream to be alone with you, thoughts of his after stream shower with you, bare wet body pressed against his.

god. he was in love. he already knew, but this just confirmed it fully and he wanted all his time in the world to be spent with you, spent kissing you, spent loving you, spent fucking you into bliss. he needed to fuck you tonight, it was driving him mad.

"i'll see you next week," he said, blowing a kiss and quickly ending the live.

he sat back once again with uneven breath, head dizzy and still trying come back to reality. he could even tell he was slurring his words slightly before he ended the live.

"oh my god, that was so good," jeongin says, panting and trying to regain his control.

you couldn't believe what had just happened, sitting back on your knees absolutely dumbfounded and taking your mask off gently. jeongin smiles at you, lifting his hips so he could pull up his pants. he sits up, turning everything that was on off and turning his attention back to you immediately.

"you did fucking amazing, come here," jeongin praised, leaning towards you and capturing your lips in a kiss.

it took you aback, considering not only was that your first kiss but he did it and could still taste himself on your tongue.

"made so much because of you, how did you like it?" he asked, wiping the tear that fell from the corner of your eye.

"it was.... not bad, actually," you said. doing this wouldn't be so bad if that meant you'd being doing it with your bestfriend.

"i told you. keep it up and i might just have to keep you around," jeongin says, which made your head spin at the fact he was actually considering that. he grabs a towel that's set aside and wipes his hands clean from lube, soon folding it and using the corner to clear up your face.

"we should shower and i'll get you a glass of salt water to gargle, wouldn't want you feeling gross in the morning," jeongin stood up, grabbing your arms to pull up your body.

his kindness was always part of his charm, no matter what he'd do anything to make sure you weren't hurt and had the support you needed. you were led to the bathroom where he sat you on the toilet and started a warm shower for you both. you knew this meant he was going to see you completely nude, not that the lingerie left much up to his imagination in the first place.

"come on baby, take this off," jeongin said softly, bending down to help, sliding it down your shoulders.

you couldn't catch feelings for him, no way. that would only mess things up, you thought. the two of you being bestfriends for so long and never once showing a bit of attraction for one another, what would a relationship do to that? what if things don't work out and it ruins your friendship after the fact.

"you okay?" jeongin asked, noticing the look of discomfort on your face.

you force a smile onto your face, nodding in response, "yeah, i'm fine. why do you ask?"

"you seem—i dunno, out of it," he says, he knew you better than anyone and if the stream was the reason for your discomfort he'd do what he could to make it up to you, "did that make you, yunno—"

"no, jeongin. i liked it," you reassure. his face lights up at your words, heart beating faster, especially when you said, "i did." making sure he heard correctly.

"well, okay then," jeongin stayed quiet until you both stepped foot into the shower, the warm water hitting your back.

the tension was so strong, you got weak in the knees from his touch— hands on your waist to push you until your hair soaked with water. jeongin found it difficult to not get hard again when you look like this, relaxed under the warm water that eased your muscles.

"feel good?" jeongin asked. you hum with eyes closed, looking more beautiful than ever, "turn around so i can wash your hair."

you do as told, turning your back towards him and waiting patiently to feel his hands in your hair once again. he strains the water from it, picking up the shampoo and squeezing it into his hands. his fingers ran along your scalp gently and massaging it as he goes.

everything about this felt so normal, to have him care for you like this really had you falling for him. you felt calm and comfortable as he washed your hair for you. with how rough he was being before with your head, the gentleness threw you for a loop. the dynamic was insanely attractive to you—gentleman on the streets, freak in the sheets.

he finishes and takes the shower head off to rinse the bubbles of, fingers once again massaging their way through. he watched the water run down the arch of your back—ass right there for him to just grab. jeongin really could hide how hard he was, he stood as far back as he could but still close enough to clean you up so you wouldn't suddenly be met with a surprise poking at you.

"jeongin?" you call out, softly.

he had thought he'd been caught but he answered you anyways before assuming, "yes?"

you turn, facing him again. looking up into his eyes made butterflies flutter in your stomach. he didn't know what you were going to say, but he waited until you spoke again.

"i... like you," you admit. you felt stupid admitting this after sucking his dick and seeing how good he was at his job that you were hoping would become yours as well, "like a lot. i would love to help you with your future streams, if you're looking for a partner."

"if it's you, then i'm okay with it. i like you too," he replies.

it had taken so long for him to actually say that, anxiety running through his body each time he tried to have a serious conversation about his feelings with you.

"you do?" you ask, surprised.

"for some time now, yeah." jeongin says. he didn't talk about you being his thoughts when jacking off, but he no longer needed to do that anymore. you were his.

you both smile brightly at each other, jeongin hand cupping your cheek, bodies closing the gap and kissing each other deeply. it only got more and more heated, jeongin had to pull away and control himself. he closes his eyes, feeling embarrassed from what was about to come out of his mouth, "god i want to fuck you so bad right now."

"looks like it," you joke, looking down to see his hard cock poking at your stomach then meeting his gaze again, "so what's stopping you?"

jeongin shook his head, wearing a grin before he pressed you up against the cold tile, "fuck, what am i going to do with you angel?"

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your-local-hollow-lover · 5 months

Note

Hi!! Could you do a scenario where Grimmjow has to handle/comfort his overworked S/O? I’m curious as to how he would react

Certified, he's the worst at these types of things.

Grimmjow finds it exceptionally irksome when he's around and you lack the energy to keep up with him. Why does he even bother visiting you anyway?

"Hey, stop being pathetic, get up," he says, poking your head.

This deep into your relationship with him, you understand there's no malice in his words. He's not intentionally mean; it's just his way of talking. Yet, you're too fatigued to pay him any mind.

"Go away. I'm exhausted," you say, snuggling further into the pillows of your bed.

A brief silence ensues.

"Why?"

This makes you peek at him. He wears that silly expression with furrowed brows, a mid-annoyance look reflecting his own struggle to comprehend something. It's cute enough to draw a tiny smile to your face.

"One of my coworkers quit last week, and all of her work has fallen on me, which wouldn't be a problem if my paycheck increased accordingly, but no! Haha, God forbid we get paid fairly for what we do," you blurt.

Your head throbs, announcing a migraine. You know Grimmjow doesn't grasp these human matters, and that somehow makes it worse.

"Withdrawing's for cowards," he states.

Or maybe he does understand?

"Do I kill them?"

Never mind. At least he asked. You sigh.

"No. Look, I like spending time with you, but right now isn't the best moment for me. I'm so overworked I could cry, and it would mean a lot if you didn’t kill or destroy anything for the night.”

You don’t have the heart to kick him out. Hueco Mundo is, after all, much worse than unpaid extra hours. You just hope he doesn’t take your tiredness in a bad way.

On his part, Grimmjow just looks at you like there’s no remedy in this world to cure your feebleness. However, whenever he sees you in a similar state of mind, he can’t help but feel an uneasiness twisting inside his guts, as if his stomach was making a knot.

When you catch him at his lowest moments, when he’s willing to allow you a glimpse of them, you always provide soft things that bring a close sensation of existing free from distress. It would be fair if he reciprocated it now.

A tiny gap leaves your mouth upon sensing his weight over the bed, and then his body over your own, not in a looming, predatory form for once. He just lies on top of you, close enough to feel the tip of his nose brushing your nape, far enough not to crush you under him.

Oh, lord, you want to kick him, but just then, you hear it: a soft vibrating sound that comes and goes steadily, like a purr. The same sound he made a couple of months ago while you played with his hair. You said it was relaxing, that you liked it.

A warm feeling washes over you. You scoot closer to him, and he lets you, his arm now keeping you tucked at his side. The purr intensifies. It lulls you to sleep. When the alarm clock rings the next morning, Grimmjow is no longer there, but the warm feeling remains.

#omg girl this has been oh my inbox for so long I feel ashamed #i'm so sorry i hope you still want it #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow jeagerjaques #grimmjow x you #grimmjow imagine #grimmjow x reader #bleach grimmjow #grimmjow bleach #grimmjow #bleach fanfic #bleach

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kairiscorner · 9 months

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my art teacher and last year bio teacher inspired me to do this (and ofc @binibinileonara did too, as always <333)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel o'hara x gn!reader (teacher au)

hunched over at his desk, busy checking and encircling items quickly with his red pen as his hazel brown eyes scanned the page for the answers written by the students in all kinds of handwriting. he sighed as he shook his head, the test he gave the students were probably way too hard... or these kids were always lying whenever he'd ask them if they understood what he was saying.

"what are these kids even putting on the blanks spaces? i'm surprised their brains are better teachers than me–coming up with their own answers..." he muttered under his breath as he kept encircling the answers on one whole page for this one student's paper. as he felt his eyes drooping from the fatigue he got from the amount of incorrect answers he had to correct, he also felt a light tap on his shoulder. he turned his head wearily to look at the one who tapped his shoulder, coming face to face with your beaming face. "oh, miguel, you okay?" you asked him with a gentle voice as miguel nodded, groaning slightly under his breath as he did; he was okay physically, but emotionally, he was incredibly dejected and disappointed by his students' performance in his tests.

"lemme guess, your students breezed through your quizzes again?" you asked him with a sympathetic grin as miguel nodded weakly again. "they can't even bring themselves to put out any effort for my sake. i spend countless hours being wide awake at 2 AM, triple checking my quizzes to make sure it's just right for them–not too easy that i'll get questioned by the admins if i'm taking my job seriously, but not too hard that they're plotting to give me a bad rating for the evaluation to get back at me. it's... so difficult." he said with a sigh as he shook his head, trying to shake the sleepiness from his all-nighters away. you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, hoping that you could help him in any way–you and miguel were in different departments, with you being an elementary art teacher and him being a high school biology teacher.

it was much easier for you since the kids in your class were very fond of your bright, bubbly personality and your open-mindedness when it came to art; the kids assigned to you were also very obedient and would strive hard to impress you, to make you proud. meanwhile, miguel's class was harder to manage since he was dealing with hormonal teenagers that think they know everything they've doing. you pitied him so badly, the kids he was handling were seriously not gonna give him a break and at least make his job a bit easier by listening. "sorry, mig..." "it's fine, it's fine, i'll... test them again this week. that extra unscheduled quiz and printing costs will come out of my paycheck, sure, but i need to make sure they understand what i'm saying." he said with a sigh as you moved your chair closer to him.

you placed your hand over miguel's that was clutching the red pen and lightly gripped it. he looked up at you in response to your touch and widened his eyes at the fact you were touching him. "what?" he asked you with a quizzical look in his eyes, reflecting the bright, beaming shine in your own eyes. "if you ever need any help with these kids, ever need someone to listen to you, i'm here for you, miggy–from one teacher to another." you said with a sweet smile, which made miguel's face contort into one of surprise. his face heated up at your kind words, with him nodding hurriedly and facing away from you–his face growing ever more flustered as he dwelled on your words. "um... thank you, a lot." he said with a hushed, flustered voice.

"i know a few therapeutic art techniques, i'm gonna teach the students about that for the next few weeks–wanna try them with me?" you asked him, hoping he'd agree. surprisingly, your hopeful wish was heard and granted–miguel looked at you, and with a slight, bashful grin, he told you, "sure. i haven't done anything creative for... a good long while in my life. it might just help with the stress and migraines i've been getting lately. um, hit me up? if you're, y'know, gonna start. that is what they say nowadays, right? 'hit me up'?" he asked you awkwardly as your stifled laugh when he said those three words exploded into peals of laughter at him being confused about gen z jargon.

miguel chuckled slightly to himself at his little blunder, but his chuckle of embarrassment then became one of fluster as you offered to help him check the heaps of test papers he had piled up. miguel didn't know what he did to deserve such a sweet, caring friend like you–with more patience than he could ever muster in his whole lifetime. if you would have him, maybe... he could take you out sometime and help you forget about computing grades and checking papers for one night?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @melovetitties @arachnoia @ophanimgold @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @simsrandomstuff @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv fluff #atsv fanfiction #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

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pensat-i-fet · 10 months

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Too good for you (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Welcome to an imagine that wasn’t requested but that was inspired by one of my dreams (but then I really only kept a tiny detail from the dream). This is a bit spicy, a bit angsty, also slightly toxic and everyone (but Kepa, who has a little cameo because the one in my dream was Juan Mata and how random is that?) is an asshole. But I think it’s fun! It was one of those where I let the story go where it wanted to go. I didn’t choose any of this. The story chose its own path and that’s cute. Enjoy! ❤️**

Word count: 4030

Masterlist

Wattpad

Another day, another photoshoot. But this one was pretty special. You had worked for Armani before, walking their show and doing some catalogue work for them. But this time it was a campaign they wanted you to be a part of and that was huge for your career. And the paycheck was going to be pretty decent too.

Also, you were shooting with a football player so you knew that your work was going to get a lot more exposure because of his presence. And it was a player you actually knew, which could make the shoot pretty interesting. Whether it’d be in a good or a bad way was to be determined.

"Come here for a sec so we can double-check it all fits nicely".

"Sure", you said, following the stylist. "Is the player here already?"

She looked at you with a knowing look. "No, he's a bit late. Traffic is pretty bad".

"Cool. We'll wait then".

Fittings were done quickly and so you moved to hair and makeup. The look was pretty natural so that was done quickly but with it being an underwear shoot, the makeup artists had to make sure to apply makeup all over your body. And it was while they did it that Rúben showed up.

"Hello everyone, sorry I'm late".

His voice made you look up from your phone. Rúben looked you up and down and for a second you felt a bit self-conscious standing in front of him, and a crew of 20 people, in just a thong and a bra. As if he hadn't seen you in less.

While he was getting ready for the shoot, you put on a robe and sat down next to him.

"I thought you wouldn't make it".

"Bad traffic. I wish I had gotten here early. I might have volunteered to do your body makeup".

"Of course you would have".

"Do you want to do mine?", he whispered.

"I want to be home before midnight so hurry up".

"By home, you mean your place or mine?"

Rolling your eyes, you got up to check if there was something nice you could eat. Catering at these shoots was usually pretty good if you got to the table before all the good food was taken and only the dry carrot sticks were left.

"You didn't tell me you knew him", said your agent.

"I don't know him. I know what's in his jeans. It's different".

"Is it going to be an issue?"

"Why should it be?"

"I don't want you to mess up this big opportunity. Who knows how your career could develop after this".

Yeah, and you want the commission that comes from big-money jobs like this one.

"I won't mess up".

"How did you even meet him? I thought your friend played for Chelsea".

"At a party. It doesn't matter".

Yes, your friend played for Chelsea. But he had nothing to do with you meeting Rúben. As you said, that happened at a party. You didn't even recognise him at first. You just noticed a hot guy approaching your friend group and decided to start dancing with him before Gina, who had been staring at him all night, could do it first. Your friend group also consisted of people you didn't like that much. It was a fashion industry thing.

"Do I look good?"

Rúben was now next to you, wearing the underwear picked for the first few photos you needed to take. And yeah, he looked alright.

"As if you need me to tell you how good you look. You already tell yourself every morning when you look in the mirror".

"Is being confident a sin?"

"No", you said, getting closer to him. "Being arrogant is".

"Then we're both sinners".

"Sinning can be fun".

"It's fun when I do it with you".

That last sentence was whispered in your ear and you had to try hard not to blush. So you left him to go get changed into your first outfit.

"Wow! You don't need me to tell you how good you look either but I will".

You turned your hips slightly, letting him see how good you really looked while you pretended to adjust your panties with one of your hands, making sure Rúben's eyes followed your movements. "I mean, anything is an improvement from the skin colour thong I had to wear for fittings and hair and make-up. Least sexy piece of underwear you'll ever see. This", you said, pointing at your current outfit, "is a lot better, right?"

The way Rúben stared at you gave you all the answers you needed. "Believe me, seeing you in your underwear is always a pleasure. No matter the colour or design. But this…", he was now touching the little piece of lace that adorned the sides of the panties you were wearing. "Can you keep the clothes you wear at shoots?"

"Not usually but I think with underwear is different so maybe I get lucky".

"I'm feeling very lucky at the moment", he muttered, still staring at the fabric he had touched.

The photographer interrupted the moment, asking you to actually do your job. How inconvenient. And so you and Rúben moved to the shooting area and listened to the ideas the photographer had for the shoot.

You had actually been excited to shoot with Rúben. First, because you thought his look complimented yours really well. Sometimes you were paired with male models that looked so odd next to you but you and Rúben looked great together. Then there was the fact that you already knew him, which meant you were a bit more comfortable doing a more intimate shoot like this one. And of course, you wanted to see him. He mentioned you texting him if you visited Manchester but you had been travelling a lot and didn't get to see him in person ever since that party in Lisbon.

You also expected your chemistry to be good. At the party, you two connected immediately and felt incredibly comfortable in each other's company the whole night. So this should have been the same. But Rúben seemed to be struggling a bit.

"What's wrong?", you asked him during a small break.

"Well, it's a bit challenging to be this close to you while you wear almost nothing, you know?"

"Control the hormones, Dias. You're acting like a horny 15-year-old. Though I guess men never get over that stage. At least not mentally".

The pieces from the collection were stunning but a few were very impractical. Putting them on felt like you were doing a puzzle. And you could only imagine how difficult it would be to take them off, especially in specific situations where you'd be in a hurry to get rid of the underwear. But they did look good.

"Can somebody help me?", you called and heard the curtain move just seconds later.

You didn't even turn, used to random people helping in those situations. "I can help with that".

"Rúben, you shouldn't…".

"Shh".

You could feel his finger untangling the straps and doing the clasps. But before you could turn to face him, he bent down to kiss the side of your neck. When his hands went to your hips, you forgot for a second where you were and just leaned back into his touch. But a noise made by the crew startled you and you separated from Rúben quickly.

"We're working. We can't…".

But he wasn't listening anymore. He just grabbed your face so he could kiss you and you barely allowed him to touch your lips.

"My makeup. How am I going to explain it being smudged?"

"Are you wearing any?"

"Are you serious? Of course I am".

He leaned forward, impossibly close to you, and stared at your eyes. It was hard to keep eye contact but you managed. He then moved to your lips and smiled. "Yeah, I guess I can see a bit of product there. But it can be reapplied, right?"

"Stop it", you said, pushing him away from you and leaving the changing area.

Yeah, you could understand now what he meant by the shoot being challenging. But you were professional and a couple of hours later, you heard the magical words it’s a wrap.

“Where are you staying?”

The voice startled you and you held onto the shirt you were buttoning up for dear life. “Rúben! You can’t come inside. I’m getting changed”.

“I just spent 3 hours with you by my side wearing the smallest underwear I’ve ever seen in my life”.

“Really? You need to go out more”.

He rolled his eyes, before staring at your bare legs. “Besides, I’ve already seen everything there was to see”.

“It doesn’t mean you can see it again”.

“Not even if I say please?”

This time, you let him get closer and kiss you. And of course, you left with him. Much better than going back to the hotel.

Back in London, you continued working non-stop. The Armani campaign was about to be released and some other brands wanted to work with you before that.

And for the second time in a month, you got to work with someone you knew well. But this time it wasn’t Rúben, but your friend Andrea.

“I love your hair”, she said the moment she saw you.

“Thanks. I had to cut it for a job but I’m really into this style”.

“Looks amazing on you”.

Catalogue shooting wasn’t the most thrilling part of being a model but it was pretty simple. And the crew you were working with was always fun to be around. So when it was time for a break, you all ordered food and chatted about everything and nothing while eating.

“Are you free this weekend?”, asked Andrea while you were getting ready to carry on shooting.

“I think so. Why?”

“Kepa has this event and I can’t go so we thought you could go with him. It’d be good for networking and all that”.

You met Kepa after working with his wife Andrea and became really good friends with both of them. It wasn’t the first time he had invited you to an event but…it was usually events that Andrea was attending too.

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea. I’ll be there as what? Your husband’s companion? What if people start to make up rumours?”

“It doesn’t have to be weird. Plus, it’s a very informal event. There might not be any press there at all and there is no need to dress up. It’ll be fine”.

“I’ll think about it”.

And that you did. Andrea kept sending you info and it really was a great opportunity to network. Also, the topic for the event sounded very interesting so you really wanted to go.

That’s how you found yourself arriving at the venue with Kepa by your side.

“Are any of your teammates attending the event too?”

“Why? Are you interested in any of them?”

“Kepa…stop. We’ve had this conversation before and no, I don’t like any of your teammates. None of them is my type”.

“You’ll break their hearts”, he laughed.

Kepa was busy talking to some people he knew so you decided to walk around saying hello to everyone. And that was when you saw him.

“What are you doing here?”

Rúben turned when he heard your voice and a big smile appeared on his face when he saw you standing in front of him.

“I was invited to the event. You?”

“I’m here with my friend”.

The word friend made him frown. “Another model?”

“No. Actually, another footballer”.

Rúben started to look around until his eyes fell on Kepa, the only other player that was currently there. “Him?”

“Yes, he’s my friend. Any problems?”

“You can do better than him”.

You laughed, not believing what you were hearing. “He’s married to my friend. We’re just friends, you idiot”.

“Is she here too?”

“No, she’s busy today. That’s why I’m here”.

“Big boy Kepa can’t go to places alone? Does he need you to babysit him?”

“Have you always been an asshole or am I just noticing? Don’t speak like that about my friend”.

Spotting Kepa, you left Rúben standing alone, staring at you while you walked towards your friend. His eyes never stopped following you around the venue and you could tell. But you avoided him.

Rúben kept trying to get your attention but you pretended not to notice and it was driving him insane. So when it was just you and Kepa standing next to the food, he decided to go introduce himself.

“Hey there, mate. Nice seeing you here”.

Kepa stared at him. They had never interacted outside of the pitch. “Sure. This is my friend…”.

“I know who she is”.

Kepa looked at you, frowning. So you had to clarify the situation for him. “Rúben and I did a shoot together recently. You’ll see it soon”.

“Right”, laughed Kepa. “Well, good to see you too. We gotta go…”.

“Maybe we could chat for a second”, he said, looking at you.

“Maybe I want to go with Kepa instead of chatting”.

Kepa kept looking from you to Rúben and then back, not understanding anything that was happening but if you wanted to leave, he was going to help you.

“She’s right. We need to leave now before my wife gets back home”.

When Rúben saw Kepa grab your hand to lead you to the door, his jealousy grew even more. “You have to make sure you finish before she gets back?”

Hearing that, Kepa let go of your hand immediately and before he had time to say anything, you had already slapped Rúben’s face.

“Don’t you ever insinuate something like that about me”.

Kepa had two options. Following you or copying your actions and slapping Rúben too. But even if he would have loved to do the same as you, he chose to follow you since people were getting closer to see what was going on. And his team had enough dramas to worry about.

"What was that about?"

"I would like to know too".

"Did he bother you at that shoot? You could complain to the brand or something. And if he's harassing you…".

"Kepa, I appreciate you worrying but it's nothing like that. I…I met him at a party a while ago and we hooked up. And then we met at the shoot and hooked up again. But I don't know, he was acting like a jealous boyfriend or something. And saying that about us…who does he think he is?"

"You were right to slap him. I wish I could have done the same".

You shook your head. You weren't an aggressive person. Actually, you avoided conflicts as much as you could. But hearing Rúben say that was too much. You couldn't not react.

Kepa invited you to stay over for dinner and you were a bit wary to say yes until you saw Andrea was back. She was fuming when she heard what had happened.

"Well, the good thing is you don't have to see him again".

"Actually…", her words made you realise you had to see Rúben again. Very soon. "We need to do an event to promote the campaign. I can't say no, Andrea. It's the biggest job I've ever done".

"You have to go", said Kepa. "Don't let him affect your career. Just pose with him for the red carpet or whatever and then you can stay away from him".

"Yeah, I'll do that".

But it was easier said than done.

Rúben had tried his hardest to apologize. He didn't even know what got into him to talk to you like that. Well, he knew. Jealousy. But what right did he have to be jealous?

Still, he apologized on social media and even sent flowers to your agency. But got no response from you.

"This is what he'll wear", said the stylist, bringing the suit Rúben would wear to the event. "So we have to pick something that goes well with it".

You tried ten different outfits and none pleased the Armani team. But then you spotted a little black dress that no one had looked at.

"Can't go wrong with an LBD, right?"

They turned to see you holding the dress and one of the stylists shrugged. "Might as well see how it looks on. With those long legs of yours, it should look fine".

So you tried it on and it fit like a glove. The exposed back and the length gave it the sexy touch the brand wanted. You were promoting underwear not coats. But the front was more conservative, so it was sexy but still classy.

They paired it with some black heels and someone put your hair up in a messy bun to see how the neckline looked. You looked absolutely perfect. And you couldn't help but smirk thinking how it was going to drive Rúben insane.

But the first person you saw at the event wasn't Rúben, it was Gina.

"Hiii! Oh my God, you look gorg!"

Her smile was so fake, you feared she would get a migraine from the pressure on her jaw.

"I know".

"And you got to work with that hottie you slept with that one time. Where is he? Still single, I guess".

"I guess. But he told me he doesn't like obnoxious blondes so maybe don't waste your time".

"You're always such a bitch!"

"Not always, Gina. You just bring out the worst in me. Such a talent!"

Everyone was getting ready for the red carpet and it was then that you finally saw Rúben. He stood next to you but didn't even acknowledge you. Was he for real?

Once on the red carpet, he turned quickly to look at you and placed his hand on the small of your back. Your bare back. It was easier for you to just smile at the camera even if you didn't feel like it but he managed to do it as well.

You kept turning to show your outfit, placing your hands on his arms, shoulders or even chest.

"Stop moving", he whispered. His hand never leaving your back.

"I'm just doing my job. But nice to know the cat didn't get your tongue. Or were you just waiting to talk until you could accuse me of being a homewrecker again?"

"I messed up and I tried to apologize".

"Try harder".

The photographers thanked you and you started to walk away from the carpet, knowing Rúben was right behind you. When you turned your head to see him, you could see the way he stared at your body. He noticed you looking at him so we walked faster to catch up with you.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say something like that. I don't even know why I did".

"It was a very disgusting thing to say about someone you barely know".

"Again, I'm sorry. Please, let's pretend it didn't happen".

"Hi! Ruben right?", hearing Gina's voice, you closed your eyes to try to get rid of any murderous feelings.

"Yeah. Do I know you?"

She was now looking at you. "Be nice and introduce your friend".

"Who's the friend? You?"

Her fake laugh made you cringe. "She's so funny. Hi! I'm Gina".

"Rúben. Are you a model too?"

Oh God… "No silly, but do you think I could be one?"

"She's just an influencer who follows anyone with over 10k followers on Instagram around. If you slept with her, the whole country would know before you even finish".

Seeing Rúben's face made you laugh. He looked so uncomfortable.

"We gotta go, G. Everyone wants to see the stars of the event".

"You're just the accessory. He is the star".

Now she was showing her true colours. "Better than being the one that got a pity invite".

After a couple of seconds, Rúben caught up again.

"Are you going to roast me too?"

"You would deserve it as much as she does. But if you want to be told how amazing you are, Gina will be here the whole night".

"I have to be with my fellow star".

"Not your accessory?"

"I don't think you'd ever allow anyone to treat you just like an accessory".

"No one should allow anyone to treat them like that".

The whole night you had to be paraded around telling people about the collection and just hearing over and over again how great the campaign was. You knew that already. The photos were everywhere you looked and they were terrific. You knew that photographer was good but seeing the results in front of you made you realise how truly lucky you were to work with her.

"Do you like them?"

"Yes. These will be on my showcard for fashion week for sure".

"What's that? The card, I mean. I know what fashion week is".

"It's this little card with a couple of photos and my measurements. I have to take them to castings to give to the casting directors so they have all my info if they decide to hire me for the job".

"Interesting".

"You could model when you retire from football, you know?"

Rúben raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. I feel ok taking my own photos but working with photographers is weird".

"They stop you from doing stupid poses so it might be weird but look at the result".

He would have said something about your insult but could just stare at your fingers drawing invisible lines over the photos. Your fingers moved along the lines his muscles created and you seemed hypnotized by what you were doing.

He leaned towards you so he could whisper in your ear. "You know you can touch the real me too if you want to, right?"

"And yet you only get to touch me in the photos".

"You sure?"

His hand was now back on the small of your back and he could see the goosebumps caused by his touch. After looking around to make sure no one was there, he leaned down to kiss your shoulder and you kept staring at the photos trying not to show a reaction to his touch. But also not moving away, craving more.

"What's your favourite photo of the campaign?", you asked, interrupting the kisses that were now getting closer to your neck. And you knew once the neck kisses started, it was game over.

Rúben looked around at all the photos. "That one".

You looked at the photo he pointed and it was one of you with your back to the camera. You were topless so your back was as exposed as it was at that moment and you couldn't stop smiling seeing the rest of the photo.

"Is it my beautiful profile you like?", you asked, copying the pose so he could see the profile twice.

"Sure. But that thong…that's the sexiest piece of lingerie I've ever seen and I've seen a few. And of course, it looks even better because it's you wearing it".

"Do you want to know a secret?", he nodded. "That's what I'm wearing tonight. They let me keep the whole collection".

"You're kidding".

"Shame you won't be able to find out if it's true or not".

You left the room but not before turning to see Rúben unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. Yes, you were driving him insane. And no, he wasn't going to find out if you were telling the truth or not. Should have thought twice before pissing you off.

After that event, Rúben tried to contact you but you ignored him. So he had almost given up. That was until he had to play against Chelsea. He obviously didn't make a great first impression in front of Kepa but perhaps they could talk, man to man, and fix that. So when the match ended, Rúben tried to find him quickly to talk to him with the excuse of needing to shake his hand after the match.

"So, your friend…".

"She's too good for you, brother. And you messed up and she doesn't give second chances. Sorry".

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias angst #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x reader #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer angst #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader

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wolfthatroamsshadows · 2 months

Text

Watched Hazbin Hotel, read Chaggie fanfic, and must've turned a wrong corner because I found myself back with Carmen Sandiego and Carulia. How did this happen?

Anyway... I wrote this short snippet. Takes place directly after the very last shot of the vary last episode of Carmen Sandiego. Cause, let's be honest, Carmen and Julia not ending up together... makes me sad. This is just a little, probably ooc, goodness. I don't even know if I should put it up on AO3.

Fandom: Carmen Sandiego (2019) Ship: Carmen/Julia Words: 709

Julia let out an exhausted sigh as she stepped out of the hotel's elevator. She had called it a day after they had brought in Paper Star. The paperwork would be there for her in the morning. She just wanted to get to the hotel and relax. It had been a few hectic days.

She unlocked the room and stepped into it. Closing the door behind her, she unbuttoned her blazer and discarded it on the back of a chair next to a bright red coat, before even acknowledging the figure lounging on the bed.

"Thank you for the gift. Nice wrapping." Julia smiled at Carmen.

"Just thought you guys would appreciate it." A lithe movement and Carmen stood in front of Julia, her hands on Julia's hips.

Julia looked up into the steely grey eyes of her companion. "It was. But you know what I would appreciate much more?" She leaned closer and put her hands on Carmen's chest. "Visiting a museum when it's actually open." Julia shoved Carmen back onto the mattress and straddled her.

"And whose fault is that Miss I-have-to-work?" Carmen laughed her hands settling on Julia's thighs.

"Oh, shut it you." Julia said good-naturedly and leaned down.

The door behind them burst open. "Carm!"

Julia sighed and dropped her forehead onto Carmen's chest. She had hoped she'd had more of a head start, but she should've known the twins' aversion to paperwork would mean different.

"Oooohhh! Are we interrupting something?" Ivy sing-songed teasingly.

Julia could practically hear Carmen's eyeroll. She sat up and swung her legs over to sit on the edge of the bed looking sternly at her colleagues. "Not anymore, you aren't. What do you want in here anyway?"

"We wanted to say hi to Carm. We missed her." Zack said with half a snack from the minibar in his hand.

"We just hadn't realized you had called dibs on her first. Should've put a sock on the door handle or something." Ivy smirked.

Julia sighed. She liked the twins, really, but she didn't know how Carmen had put up with their antics for that long. "Zack, please don't empty the minibar, ACME doesn't cover the bill and I doubt your paycheck allows for it. And Ivy, I did not call dibs…" She was getting worked up, but Carmen put her hand on the small of her back and she found her calm again. "…because I simply didn't feel it necessary to do so. I thought it was obvious. At least to two people who claim to be as capable as they are as Agents."

That got the attention of Zack and Ivy. They stood up straighter, ready to defend themselves. "But I must've been mistaken. Maybe you spent too much time with Devineaux. Who knows. He, at least, has learned to knock before entering a room." Julia smirked. Devineaux had learned the hard way to knock before barging into a room, after he had walked in on Carmen and Julia once. That was an occasion none of them wanted to ever repeat.

Julia got up and walked to her suitcase. "I'm going to change into something more comfortable. And then I just want some dinner." She straightened again after grabbing her clothes and looked at the other three in the room. "With my girlfriend. Alone. Understood?" Her eyes fixed the twins specifically who nodded and swallowed. She turned and entered the bathroom. Closing the door behind herself, she smiled. Being a senior agent had some perks. Or it was just that Zack and Ivy had realized, after working with her, just how much damage Julia could've done to their operation if she had wanted.

She could hear the excited talk of the twins in the other room. A fond look stole itself on her face. For all the teasing and jabs that happened, they were still family. Somehow. She shook her head and left the bathroom after changing.

"Where do you want to go?" Carmen asked.

"I don't know. Let's just see where we'll find ourselves."

Carmen offered her arm, Julia accepted.

Carmen leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You alright, Jules?"

"I am now. Thank you." Carmen pressed her lips to Julia's temple, before they left the room together.

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palmtreesx3 · 10 months

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Act 1 - Foreplay

Aphrodisiac (Robin's Chapter)

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Summary: (6.8K) The pair are settling in at The Hideout but not without some bumps in the road, and are exploring the city and sampling a bit of all that it has to offer. Steve is trying hard to find things that he likes to do and he's totally baffled to see Robin so effortlessly spreading her wings. Robin's got a date. A real legitimate, public date and she quickly gets fixated. Meanwhile Steve's got another lonely evening by himself. The pair - well maybe just Robin - gets in the mood in this Robin-centric installment of Act 1.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex toys and self-exploration, female masturbation, shop talk, fluffy affection, LGBTQ acceptance (which isn't much of a warning, it's a goddamn right), self-loathing, mild depression and *you* make your first appearance.

Almost-July, 1993

What Robin failed to consider when wagering a digital pet bet with Steve Harrington is that this boy was born and raised competitive. She forgot that in the Harrington household "lose" wasn't in their vocabulary. She also forgot just how forgetful she is. Ironic. So it should have been no surprise that in the last 24 hours, her Tamagotchi has been sick three times and was always beeping incessantly.

"Rob, you're a horrible mother. You're gonna owe me 5 drinks before we even get our first paycheck." Steve gloats, tucking his healthy, happy, bouncing pet into his pocket before sitting down to lace up his sneakers.

Meanwhile, Robin who is shoving her feet unceremoniously into her Chucks ignores the shit talking and dishes out some of her own. "Dude, we have to do something about this." She kicks her chin in his direction as he smooths out his clothes.

"What?" Steve snaps back.

"I can't believe you still dress like that. Honestly. 1984 called, they want their Sears Catalog back."

"Ok Robin, sorry I didn't know you also got a job as the fuckin fashion police."

"I'm just saying, small town Indiana polo fashion ain't gonna cut it in the big city, boy. You wanna keep bagging hotties like you did the other weekend, we'll have to do something. You don't have to dress for mommy anymore." And as she says the last bit she immediately winces "Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean … "

"No it's okay, Rob. I know what you're trying to say. Maybe. Maybe once we have some extra money I'll get something new. You can help me. Deal?"

After a few weeks of exploring, Robin and Steve have zeroed in on quite a few of their own places. A bench they prefer in the nearby park, nestled in the shade of a swaying willow tree; a greasy corner store that sells the best breakfasts to sop up what's left of an evening out; an arcade that makes them nostalgic and think of the kids at home and gives them something to talk about when they call; and this place - a nice little coffee shop tucked in between towering complexes and quaint stores just one block over from their place. There are always records playing of the baristas favorite bands, the coffee is good and strong and cheap and they're always open when they need it.

Steve and Robin have gone to the coffee shop almost daily since they found it. But this time Robin was out on an errand herself so she popped in on her own to grab two cups to-go and bring back to the apartment, where Steve, no doubt, was still sleeping. Perusing the wall of records in rotation while she waits for her order, Robin is startled by a quiet voice beside her, whispering closer in her ear than she's used to from a stranger. "This week it's good stuff, huh? I'm loving The Smashing Pumpkins new one." the voice says.

Robin's eyes dart to her left and quickly back up to the wall of vinyls, the stranger's proximity and attention making her squirm just a bit. "My last .. girlfriend. She was into all the pop stuff. Not really my vibe, ya know." And at that, Robin's eyes rise to meet the womans who is standing next to her. There's not much that can actually shut Robin Buckley up, but here's a few: a really fuckin' beautiful girl, eye contact and someone casually talking about their sexuality. It was the perfect storm.

Robin bit her plump, pink lips and nodded at the stranger, feeling a little ridiculous at the interaction so far. What is she supposed to say? Do I ask her about her ex- GIRLFRIEND? Do people really talk that openly here in the city? I don't even know her name! Robin's voice may be silent but her brain is going a mile a minute.

"Alex." The stranger says. Just as the barista shouts Robin! Your order is up! in the background.

As Robin reaches across the counter for the two steaming cups, Alex counters "And I'm assuming you, are in fact Robin." with a grin. "No boyfriend today?" She says, and as Robin's eyes twist in confusion, she pipes up again "No no, I'm sorry, I'm not being weird I swear. I just come here a lot and I've seen you guys. Nothing freaky I promise."

"No." Is all Robin awkwardly says, totally deadpan.

Alex waits for more, but nothing comes. After a moment she chuckles, picking up her own cup of tea and raising it to her lips to take a sip, but not before whispering out "No, what?" in a question.

"Ha. No. No he's not my boyfriend." Robin says as she plays with the hem of her denim cutoff shorts.

"Ah, too bad. He's a hottie." Alex shrugs and Robin stands confused. It's happening before she knows it started and Robin's dumpster fire of a brain starts rambling.

"Wait. What? No he's not my boyfriend he's my roommate and yeah we come here, we're still kinda new in town. We're actually from a small town - Hawkins - but what… I'm sorry I thought you said your ex-girlfriend liked pop music so… "

"Yeah. That's what I said." Alex takes another nonchalant sip of her steaming mug.

" So .. but Steve. He's… " Robin stutters out.

"Well he is hot isn't he?" The woman counters.

"I mean, yeah I guess. He has no trouble with the ladies if that's what you mean. Always Mr god-damned Popular cause he has perfect fuckin' hair but I swear they should see him in the morning, it's not all rainbows and butterflies then!" and the words just keep spouting out of her mouth uncontrollably.

Alex looks on at her, almost endearingly, as she lets her go and spit it all out. "You done?" She asks.

Robin nods, mutters an apology for her rambling and starts to head towards the door "I should go. Nice to meet you, Alex."

She shuffles her steps quickly in an attempt to bolt as far away as she can from the pretty girl who she just made a fool of herself in front of. God, I'm gonna have to tell Steve we need to find a new coffee place. Shit.

"Wait! Wait, sorry. I can be intense." Alex muses, kicking her feet at the chair next to where they stand, before looking back at Robin's flushing face. "Yes, I did say ex-girlfriend. I also said your whatever he is is hot. I'm not stalking you, I just must get my tea when you guys get your coffee and, I hope I don't make you totally run off in terror when I say this next part, but I'm gonna anyway - I have just been distracted by you guys. I thought you were both pretty hot and I was distracted by the coffee shop couple every time I'm here. You were solo today so I thought I'd break the ice. Sorry. I hope I'm not making this weird "

Robin's mouth is absolutely hanging open right now.

"Yeah, so the tables turned pretty quickly and I'm thinking I'm the one that should be embarrassed right now so, hopefully I see hot coffee shop couple around and I didn't totally scare you away from this place. "

"Oh God, no. The coffee is too good and too cheap for us to stop coming here. He's not my boyfriend. Steve is 100% my roommate and that's it, no coffee shop couple here. Yeah, he's hot but don't you ever tell him that. Christ, he doesn't need a bigger ego. And the last time I talked to a girl like you I think I peed my pants, so excuse me I'm going to go hurl myself off the Willis Tower, if that's okay with you?"

Alex lets out a deep laugh. A genuine one. She reaches out to touch Robin's forearm, to keep her there… or ground her, she's not sure which. "Please don't. I can't have you falling if it's not for me." and at that Robin's eyes go wide as saucers. "Are you free tomorrow? Maybe we could get dinner? Downtown. Meet here so it's not weird and sketchy first…that is, if your hot roommate doesn't mind I borrow you for a bit?"

She's stunned. Robin has never been asked out on a date before. Is this a date? Holy shit.

She musters up every ounce of courage she has to smile and nod. "I get off work at 6, so can we make it 7?" Only to be interrupted in that moment by the shrill chirping on her keychain signifying yet another dead digital pet.

A wide, sparkling smile spreads on Alex's face as she starts to head out the door, turning back to shout out "7:00, meet you here. Can't wait! "

And as soon as the bell on the door dings and she's sure it's shut, her brain starts catching up and Robin drops both cups of coffee on the floor.

Today, Murray is not entertained by Steve. Usually the banter between the pair has remained humorous and for the most part, friendly. Today Steve is just pissing him off.

First Steve dropped an entire shipping box of condoms, spilling single wrapped rubbers all over the floor. It took him an hour and twenty three minutes and three side-eyeing customers stepping over him to clean them all up. Then Steve knocked over the mannequins like dominoes after he struggled with the BDSM display Murray assigned to him for the second part of their shift. Robin snickered as Murray delegated the task to Steve, knowing damn well it was just to make the boy suffer. Robin watched gleefully, sitting at the register, resting her chin in her hand as Steve grumbled through the entire task. At one point, he was fumbling so much with all of the straps and buckles and ties that before he knew it the head of the mannequin he was attempting to gag toppled off its shoulders and knocked three other mannequins down in its wake. All Steve could do in response was throw the ball gag to the side as he stormed off, yelling back "Tell that asshole I took my 15! I'll deal with the bondage when I get back!"

As he marches off in anger, Murray does in fact slide over and lean down next to Robin. "How's Casanova doing? BDSM not his thing, I see?" He chuckles. Robin cocks a sideways grin at him shaking her head. "He doesn't even know what his thing is, Murray. He's just a lost little puppy."

"What about you, Red. You doing good?"

"Yeah, yeah I am. I think he's stressed because he's not really finding his thing. He's used to things coming easy for him and they're just… not here."

"What does Mr Hometown Heroes' emotional journey have to do with how you're doing, huh?"

"A lot, actually. He's absolutely a bumbling fucking idiot, but he is the kindest person I've ever known. He has a weird way of showing it, but that's because his parents are Grade A assholes. He's been more supportive to me than anyone on this planet and I am trying so hard to help him but I don't know how."

"Well, Red, this is a journey of lifelong self-discovery. Ya gotta learn to love thyself before you can love another. That goes for both of you, ya know?" and with that, he pushes off the glass countertop and saunters back to his office while humming an indistinguishable tune.

When Steve returns from his break Robin recognizes the look on his face. It's the one that comes back ready with his head in the game after an excruciatingly awkward pep talk he gave himself - out loud. If anything, all those years of organized sports at least gave him a method to get himself back on track.

That's why it was so abysmal to watch as he confidently tried to help a young customer, flowing brunette hair curled and brushed out into bouncy ringlets, asking in a tiny voice behind batting eyes to be pointed in the direction of the Ben Wa.

"Oh yeah, I got you covered on this! Haven't been here long and I never heard of those before our manager got one for us and just the other day I stopped in at this place that looked interesting… "

The customer's eyes narrow, not sure where Steve is going with this conversation just as Murray joins in next to Robin to watch the drama unfold. He brought popcorn this time and was audibly chomping on it with an open mouth behind a gaping smile. "I gotta see where he's going with this." Tilting the bag towards Robin in an offering as they watch.

"Yeah, so if you just go down the block a few more streets you'll see a place on the corner. It actually says Ben Wa on the window, so you will definitely see it when you get there. I was surprised at how much I liked it!" Steve says to the miffed young lady as she is heading for the door. "Have a great day! Enjoy!" Steve yells after her.

"What the hell man! Where'd you send the good paying customer!" Murray outstretched his arm towards the door before reaching into his bag to throw a kernel of popcorn right square into Steve's forehead.

"What the fuck, Murray. She wanted to know where to get a fuckin sandwich. Last time I checked we don't sell sandwiches!" He yells as he spins his outstretched arms from left to right, showing off the wares inside the shop.

"A sandwich? You fuckin' small town nincompoop, no! Ben Wa. Ben Wa balls. She wanted to put 'em up her coochie you idiot!"

Beet red from holding back, Robin finally lets out a cackle that fills the entire store. "Oh my God, someone get me a white board! You gotta be shitting me. This is better than watching him sink at Scoops, hands down."

"Wa-what are you talking about? Ben Wa - like the sandwich from that Korean place? You got it for us for lunch three days ago!"

"Oh for the love of God. You're pretty but you're dumb. BAHN MI. Say it with me BAAHHHN MEEEE" he overemphasized.

"I-i… well.. what… what the fuck man! I don't know!"

Meanwhile, Robin is on the floor with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

After Robin gets her shit together and Steve returns to his normal shade of sun kissed peach, ever the educator, Murray fills the pair in on what the customer was actually looking for. Pulling them over to a display case in the rear, a menagerie of colorful metallic, glass and silicone balls are laid out for viewing. All the sizes as big as or smaller than an egg, Murray explains both their practical use as well as how they can be used for pleasure.

"See some ladies come looking for these after they have a baby, nothing to do with getting off… for now at least … everything to do with tightening things back up again. Just a run of the mill afternoon at the vaginal gym shesh." Steve grimaces as the analogy but nods in understanding. "Girls …or guys - might use them to stretch themselves out a bit and train their holes." Robin looks on, fully engaged and taking all the information in earnest. "They have little weights inside though, so if you're wearing them for a while or they're jostling around there's a whole lotta movement in there if you know what I mean. A few tugs on those strings and you got yourself a party."

The rest of the day goes off without a hitch, but gnawing at the back of Robin's mind are a bright red pair of Ben Wa balls from the display case, round and smooth and silicone, shaped like two cherries on a lime green stem. She's never owned a toy before, and she's feeling kind of intrigued, so while Steve is in the employee room gathering his things and clocking out, Robin seizes the opportunity to pull the toy from the case and ring it up quickly. She rings up the amount, and hastily keys in her employee discount before slipping them into her satchel just before Steve returns to the floor.

Robin has increasingly spent her free time idling around town and making her own discoveries. She finds herself often at a community park enjoying some local outdoor music that pops up regularly on the weekends and has stumbled upon a vintage bookshop a few doors down from the coffee place that she has made a comfortable home in their reading nook a few days a week while also making fast friends with the laid back cashier there on the weekends.

Meanwhile Steve has failed at any attempt to casually find something he likes to do on his own and, as evident today at work, there's something that's got him stressed and Robin thinks this is it. He tried to join her at the community park, but he has yet to get into any of the music they're playing and he joined her once at the bookstore when she excitedly wanted to share her big find with her friend, but he just didn't get the hype after sitting there thumbing through a book he had no interest in actually reading. The apartment doesn't have any cable, and there's only so much coffee shop and Tamagotchi a guy pushing 30 can handle. Needless to say, city life isn't coming as naturally for Steve as it is for Robin and that is throwing him for an absolute loop.

After a long talk on the fire escape over a cigarette, Robin actually had some wise insight into Steve's problem. "Dude, it's because you don't have any hobbies! Tell me one thing you've ever done because you chose to do it?"

"Robs, I played sports for years! Of course I have hobbies!"

"No. That's not what I mean. Who signed you up for those? Who made sure you made the varsity team your first year? Who told you to run laps? Do you still play them now? Just cause you convinced yourself you liked it, doesn't mean you actually did."

And that resonated with Steve. He thought about why he actually liked all the baseball, all the nights on the basketball court and all the swim meets - it wasn't because he actually liked the sports, he liked how it made him feel to win. For his dad to give a shit every once in a while. For his teammates to need him. So Steve stayed up late that night, gazing at the stars on that fire escape and thinking long and hard about how he has spent his time - team sports that his dad got him into that eventually made himself feel useful, dialing up radio stations that played music he heard at other people's parties and cassette tapes of other people's favorite songs in his glove compartment, cooking meals that he has to or else he wouldn't be fed.

The only damn thing he ever chose to do himself was watch out for those godforsaken kids back home and even through all his griping about them, it was always worth it. But driving a bunch of preteens around doesn't constitute an interest. "Fuck man, I don't even know myself." He muses into the late night sky, taking one last long drag before closing the window behind himself and idling off to bed.

The next day, the two had a late start at The Hideout, and Robin threw her satchel over her shoulder while yelling out to Steve "Dingus, I'm going out to the bookshop for a bit. Need anything while I'm out?"

"Nah Robs, I'm good."

"Kay - don't miss me while I'm out and you're home sulking!" She pokes, and the door clicks shut behind her leaving him in the quiet. Steve reaches for the radio and as he dials the station over to filter out the static and he's immediately back to thinking about last night. Why am I even putting on this station? I don't even think I like these songs, do I? He thinks to himself. So Steve sets out that morning to try and figure something out about himself.

Inspired by the records displayed every week at the coffee shop, Steve finds himself fingering through bins of Vinyls at a record shop he found as he walked about the neighborhood. "Anything we can help you with, man?" the employee asks as he approaches.

" Uh yeah. Actually I think…I mean, I think I want to get some records."

" Oh bud, happy to help! What are you into and what kind of player do you have?"

Steve stares at the man, stubble on his jawline, in a fitted yellow Queen T Shirt that looks worn and soft coupled with his ripped denim. A man that looks like he knows what he likes. Steve's stare is blank and he's absolutely at a loss. "I'm sorry, I have no idea. I should go."

"My brother, music is for everyone. Let me hook you up and we'll figure it out. No need to stress."

The man spends the next hour showing Steve how to use a basic model record player. They try out a few different vinyls to see what he might like. After a while, the pair have a stack piled up next to the record player - Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Tears for Fears, Red Hot Chili Peppers and a few others littered with popular music and rock artists he didn't really know by name before - and Steve is checking out.

As he's getting ready to hand over a stack of cash to the man that helped him discover what kind of music he likes, they're interrupted by a deep hum, "Now that's a nice stack you got there." Steve turns around and is a little taken aback by what he sees. It's you…and you're standing there all casual and comfortable, looking very at ease in the record shop. "Hey Brian. What's up?" You nod in the kind man's direction.

"Hey hot stuff, I got what you came for back here. Just let me finish up with this guy and I'll get you taken care of. "

"Hi" Steve waves in your direction. "I'm sorry." No one quite sure what he's actually apologizing for in the least.

"No need to be sorry, you were here first. I just came to pick up the new Pearl Jam record and I am in absolutely no rush."

"Pearl Jam?" Steve questions.

"Yeah man. Eddie Vedder? You might actually like it, all things considered." The man named Brian motions to the eclectic stack Steve has accumulated during his visit.

Looking back at you standing there, not impatiently, just smiling brighter than the sun, he mutters "Yeah cool. Yeah I mean, if you have another can I add that? I'll give it a try."

And as Steve loads up his wares in his arms and turns to leave, your charismatic smile finds him one last time, " I hope you like it… ." You draw out waiting for him to fill in the blank.

"Steve." He finishes for you.

You nod, "I hope you like it, Steve"

The next night at the apartment, Robin is gearing up for her date and she is absolutely in her head about it. She has asked Steve one hundred times today if he's sure this is a date. "But Stevie's she .. I really think she might just want to hang out and be friends."

"Robin, I swear to Christ if you don't just STOP this." Steve sucks in a clipped breath before continuing on. "It's a date. I'm one hundred percent sure this girl asked you on a date and you're going. Relax, please! Fuck, you're stressing me out and I have nothing to do with any of this!" Steve shouts for the last time tonight, leaving Robin in the bathroom doorway, staring at herself in the mirror trying to make herself presentable.

Through the damp hair falling into her vision and the steam still speckling on the mirror after her shower, the girl is trying desperately to hype herself up and get ready to spend time with Alex. But Robin is not a confident creature. She's starting to feel herself crawl back inside the cave forged deep in her personality and carved into the bedrock of Hawkins, Indiana. "I gotta fuckin' snap out of this." She says to her reflection, splashing water on her face and retreating back to her bedroom.

She hears the new and welcome sound of vinyl scratching from Steve's bedroom, before the reverberation of Fleetwood Mac's The Chain blares loudly through the walls. She sighs, sitting there still wrapped in her towel from after her shower, mind wandering to Alex and her tall, thin frame. Still not sure how a girl like that was referring to her as the hot one, Robin's thoughts drift to the deep black of the woman's mascara, fanning her eyelashes out and emphasizing her deep green eyes. She thinks about how she was too much of a spaz to appreciate the curve of her cupid's bow and she's still not sure if she was imagining the softness of the swell of her hips or not.

Mixed up in thought, Robin's forearms graze the front of her towel and the rough material scratches at her exposed nipples underneath. She lets out a wispy gasp, not realizing just how turned on she was until that second. Her mind is racing. She looks at the clock and sees she has 20 minutes until she needs to head downstairs to the shop to meet Alex. Immediately she eyes her bedside table, knowing those deep red, cherry Ben Wa balls are sitting just inside. She thinks about what Murray has been saying and all of his preaching about “loving thyself before you can love another, Red!" and with one last racing thought of the woman who actually wants to take her on a date… out in public, she's clamoring for the drawer.

She has never been more grateful that Steve has picked up a new interest, and that it was a loud one, because as she lets the towel draping her body loosen while she's leaning back into her soft cotton pillowcases she lets out a soft whimper before she's even touched herself once. Robin tentatively lets her soft hands and glossy nails trace the outline of her slit, delicately rubbing and pressing on where she needs it most and experimentally flicking the hood of her clit. After considering things one last time, she purses her eyes closed tight and holds her breath as she guides one of the cherry balls inside her opening.

The gasp that leaves her throat this time isn't soft and quiet and she finds herself gyrating and writhing as she rubs and tugs at the cherry stems attached to her toy. The weights inside are rolling and undulating just like Murray said they would, sending vibrations up and back down her body. Robin feels filthy, thinking about Alex as she uses her free hand to rub at her clit while still pressing in and tugging at the ball with her other, but not filthy enough to deny how much she is enjoying this game she is playing with herself.

Robin's eyes are rolled back in her head as her orgasm rushes over her, the weights of the ball continuing to move and rattle inside coax her through her comedown. Thighs shaking and breath stuttering, she lets out a deep sigh "Holy fuckin' shit. I love my job."

Fumbling and running late after her little self-love session, Robin bounds through the doors of the coffee shop a little dramatically. As part of her grand entrance, she knocks her hip into the chair of the two-top situated right inside the entryway and doubles over at the pain. "Shit." She means to whisper, but instead says at a volume loud enough to reach the back of the shop, and if the entrance alone didn't alert Alex to her arrival, she certainly would have heard that.

The barista greets Robin cheerfully by name just as Alex walks up to greet her with her hand outstretched, coffee cup there as an offering to break the ice. "I thought you might need a pick me up after work. She hooked me up with your usual order, so… "

Robin feels her freckles burn at the gesture, like they do after a day at the lake in the sun. She catches Alex's eyes scanning her body and she feels her chest flush, no doubt accentuated by the emerald green satin tank that's cut a bit lower than she usually ventures. The deep color making her hair, her eyes and her fair skin pop, covered by a cropped denim jacket DIY frayed at the edges has definitely caught her date's eye.

"I wanted to pop into this Gallery I really love, if you don't mind indulging my creative side tonight? It's a great spot and… there's a graphic artist showing there now I just gotta check out before it's gone. It's this amazing social commentary on pregnancy as a lesbian. Like a totally butch lesbian decides to get pregnant with her partner, so what now? It's just… I gotta see it. The diversity at this place is phenomenal."

Robin's wide eyes are not white in astonishment this time, but instead they're with pure intrigue and reverence. Knowing that not only are there people like her in this city, but enough people that feel the same or respect it enough to go to an art gallery to check out doodles about a pregnant butch lesbian and it's not the butt of a homophobic joke is… enthralling to her. She nods vehemently "Hell yeah, that sounds… really amazing. I mean… I'm not used to that kind of transparency, so, yeah. Let's do it."

And as they turn to leave the shop, coffee and tea in respective hands, Robin feels the tickle of a finger brushing her open palm. Barely registering what is happening, she finds herself in a brief yet unnecessary panic as she feels Alex's hand settle in, intertwined with hers. She can't help but scan her surroundings for passerby oggling the two women holding hands and walking down the sidewalk, but she saw not one the whole walk down the block to the train platform. The thrill of holding a pretty lady's hand out in public is sending tingles up her spine, or maybe it's the gentle, internal humming of the Ben Wa balls she opted to keep inside for the evening, but Robin could definitely get used to this. She smirks at herself as they ascend the steps towards the incoming train and asks curiously,"So tell me, what's this artist's name?

Meanwhile, Robin just missed Steve on the same platform not 10 minutes earlier. Shortly after Robin finally headed out, Steve found himself standing in the kitchen staring at a barren refrigerator - nothing more than a carton of milk, some OJ and a row of eggs left in there for him to choose from. He tries not to be irritated at his current situation, but he can't help the groan he lets out as he reaches for the phone, readying himself to order way too much pizza for one lonely guy on his couch late at night.

Before he finishes dialing he shakes his head, thinking about how he doesn't have to keep himself cooped up here. He has done so much on his own, but all of that was such a… necessity. Is it really that crazy to go off and do something alone without it being totally pitiful? "I mean, Robin goes places by herself all the time." He muses to himself.

So that's how he found himself hopping off the train downtown and wandering into the first restaurant that looked reasonable and … good. Not just food but something he might actually enjoy tasting. It's a quaint Italian place. Authentic, by the looks of it. Walls lined with corked bottles of olive oil and limoncello, twinkle lights strewn over the white lattice work ceiling, the unmistakable smell of carbohydrates and garlic.

This is yet another something he hasn’t ever done before. Not just a quick bite or a fast food, but instead going out to a proper restaurant and sitting down for a real meal. Solo. Alone. Alone but NOT lonely, he thinks. In the past 24 hours since Robin pointed out that he never does anything for himself that he enjoys, he has done a lot of introspection and has made it a point to seek out new experiences hoping something will stick. Sitting at the cozy little restaurant place downtown adorned with faux plants, and filled with tables of other guests, he finds himself so grateful to have Robin’s perspective and support. So instead of worrying about how he's not sharing the table with a date, or Robin or anyone else for that matter, he's toasting to her, in absentia.

On the other side of town, Robin and Alex find themselves tucked into a booth at a dimly lit, definitely more trendy than she’s ever experienced before in her life, kind of bar. Alex has the table filled with an assortment of bites to eat and has ordered up all of the bartender's signature drinks on a mission to get Robin to broaden her horizons and shake that small town dust off of her coattails. “Ok, so, we have to find something here that you’re into. You can’t just tell me warm beer or straight shots are your drinks of choice - every city girl’s gotta have their go-to cocktail.”

Robin first confidently grabs at the Manhattan from the selections laid out in front of hrr, recognizing the deep amber of the liquid and the familiar smell of whiskey that reminds her of Steve. It is quickly after she brings it to her lips that she sputters it back out, spraying the cocktail over her hand and most likely, her date. Alex says nothing about it, eyeing the ruby red blush on Robin’s cheeks and chest, but she stifles a small laugh before she says “Got it. No whiskey cocktails. Check. Here, here…cleanse your palate.” She says, handing her a small plate filled with creamy green, roasted artichokes splayed out like a lotus flower. “They’re the best in the city. Stuffed artichokes - ya know? They’re my favorite. Doesn’t hurt that they’re an aphrodisiac, huh?”

And if Robin hadn’t already spit out that whiskey drink, she definitely would have at that. So bold. So brazen. Dumbfounded that even at how blatant Alex has been with her flirting all night, it didn’t prepare her for that comment and the implications it held behind her eyes. And when Robin didn’t move to immediately grab a bite, Alex instead responded by picking up a delicate stuffed petal and holding it out to Robin’s pillowy lips, urging her to open up. She tentatively parted those lips and took a bite, wide-eyed at the flavor and simultaneously at the way Alex’s eyes remained locked on hers.

Before the end of the date, Robin had successfully spilled a cup of water, knocked over the salt shaker and tried sips of 6 different cocktails before she settled in with a bright orange and red drink in a highball glass, lips wrapped around the straw and playing with the stem of the cherry hanging over the side of her glass. “This one is definitely a winner.” She grins, as she turns to look at Alex, excited to have found something that she likes while simultaneously excited that she finds she doesn’t really care that she did no less than 10 embarrassing things on this date anymore. She doesn’t feel embarrassed in the least and that is still a pretty new feeling for her.

“Why am I not surprised? I should have known.” Alex laughs out.

Robin shrugs, a questioning look in her eye as she sucks down the last of the drink, rattling the ice as the straw drains the cup of the last of it, loud enough to turn a head in the booth next to theirs when she forgets she’s someplace a certain level of chic that Hawkins must repel just by its sheer podunk nature.

Alex leans in close, right next to Robin’s ear to whisper, but makes sure she pulls back just as quickly to watch the flush spread over her freckled face like she knew it would “I should have known you’d like Sex on the Beach.” Sealed with a wink.

And with that, the ice wasn’t the only thing rattling anymore, as Robin is keenly reminded as she feels the shudder travel up and down her spine that she chose to keep those Ben Wa balls.

"And she said what to you? Oh yeah, your date wants to get in your pants. For SURE.” Steve said as the cool edge of a frosted mug hit his tongue. It was a long day at The Hideout and they barely had time to shoot the shit between odd jobs and a colorful group of customers, and Robin got in so late last night that he didn’t even get to grill her about her date when she rolled in. Disregard the fact that Steve was tucked soundly in his bed after a nice warm belly full of pasta and red wines (who knew, he liked red wine? He sure didn’t). After such a long day, and the bet hanging in the air, the pair stumbled upon a local dive bar on their walk home and that’s where they find themselves now - unwinding and finding themselves totally relaxed in the warm, dimly lit and unceremonious Benny’s Taproom.

“God, Steve, I don’t want to talk about it!”

“What do you mean, you don’t want to talk about it? You owe me three drinks and you’ve gotta spill your guts, Robbie.”

“Ahhh, I don’t want to hear about the bet, Steve! I’ve been a little distracted. My keychain has been the least of my worries, genius.”

“Excuses, excuses.” he winks, the beer tasting even better knowing it was his prize for caring for his tamagotchi much better than his friends, just as he suspected. Robin cycled through three whole pets so far, while Steve’s has grown into a thriving, young thing and he gloats about it every moment he can. “Now, spill it. I need to know the details about your date, Robin. Stop avoiding this.”

As they sit there arguing over digital pets and sharing (or avoiding) stories of their night prior, a gravely ahem comes from over the bar as the gruff, stone faced and bearded man behind it places his hands wide on the counter in front of the two friends. “If you’re in my bar, drinking my drinks, then you gotta share, missy. This place is boring lately, and you guys are fresh meat, so please…entertain us with your stories. I gotta live for something around here.” he sternly says to the two, before he smiles wide and says “If you’re here, you’re family, so listen to your friend and give us the scoop, for God sakes!”

Robin tells them about her first date - about all of the coy flirting, about all of the embarrassing things that didn’t feel so terribly embarrassing in front of her date, about all of the appetizers and cocktail tastings, about the menu items spread out on their table with double entendres and that Alex kept ordering things she kept referring to as Aphrodisiacs “I swear I thought aphrodisiac was another word for Oysters, and then I thought that it meant something sexual just because … oysters. They’re like…ya know.” as she blinks her eyes downwards to her lap.

“Oh honey, he is into you.” Jim breathes out as he adjusts to lean back against the sink with his arms crossed.

Maybe it was Robin’s tight-lipped smile in response to that, or maybe it was how Steve gargled his last sip of beer right back into the mug before setting it down on the ratty old, stained coaster on the bar, but Jim’s eyes flitted between the pair looking for the information he must certainly be missing.

“Ah!” He claps his hands together as he takes Steve’s mug, swirls it around eyeing the backwash, throws it in the sink and fetches another one. He immediately moves over to the tap to refill it while noting “Alex…. He’s a she…isn’t she?”

Jim leans over the bar, braced on his elbows and spends the next twenty minutes telling her that she's just had a taste of what the city has to offer. .. a taste of dating. A taste of Alex. And if she's feeling like that - if one taste is making her feel so so good, it's worth embracing it and diving right in.

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss

The artist referenced in this Chapter is A.K. Summers who did, in fact host an exhibit at a Chicago Gallery in 1993. See her work Pregnant Butch here

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fullofgutsndopamine · 1 month

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i'll wake (with coffee in the morning)

Having a late night with hasan, where he breaks down about how much stress he is under with work and Amelie and stuff so you both go to bed super late. Letting hasan sleep in the next morning cause he doesn't have work or a morning skate and to be honest he doesn't get enough sleep. Him freaking out about trying to get breakfast together for amelie and him coming downstairs to you having made breakfast for both of them, just trying to do small things to help because you care about them both so much omg I'm so soft for this series sorry I'm rambling

tw/angst (genuinely, this is all angst), curing, mention of past abuse/toxic family,

FITPS verse, not necessary reading, but more in the same verse here if you're interested

"Hasan."

it's the third time he rolls over in bed with a huff, that you realize sleep won't be finding hasan tonight.

The light from the shitty convivence store the next block open with the fluorescent OPEN sign that blinks and hums in the dark shines in your eyes, no matter how you reposition yourself

He huffs, doesn't answer, scoots up in bed so his back is against the bedframe.

And you sit up, turn the light on and illuminate the small room, your hand on his chest, voice is borderline pleading: "hasan, talk to me."

this happens, ocassionaly.

it's been awhile, since he's been like this, when the anxiety hits and the sleepless nights find him.

But when they do find him, it's usually after a long week, him struggling to juggle Amelie, her school and hockey practice, and him-with his job; business has picked up, and while it's good for paychecks, you can't ignore the dark bags under his eyes and the groaning of his bones when he goes to pick Amelie up, throw her in the air, the missed dinners he's passed by, sleeping on the couch, too tired to even walk up the stairs-

he doesn't answer.

stares straight ahead, runs his hands through his hair, shaking, unsure of himself, his voice cracks, and he doesn't look at you, like this has been on the back of his mind for a while-

"What if all of this was a mistake?"

He laughs, but it's without humor, his eyes dark:

"Like, what if she's actually fucked by me raising her? What if she turns out like me?"

this is heavy, especially for a Thursday night, but you know this song and dance, are an expert in it-

"hasan, come on."

"No," He shakes his head, "You come on-"

He's spiraling, and there's only one fix.

You throw the old quilt off your body, wiggle your toes against the cold wood floors as you pad to his side, hold your hand out:

"hasan, come on-"

He doesn't say anything back, but allows you to tangle your hand into his, to pull him out of bed, and lead as you slowly lead down the creaking steps, to the couch where you let him fall onto, curl next to him:

"hasan," You try, your voice borders on pleading, "What's going on?"

You pull him closer, against his chest, your hands tangled into his hair, pulling at it gently, something he usually likes, finds comforting-

His voice is weak, like he's thought about this all week, tossed and turned, lost sleep over it-

"I don't want her to end up like me," His voice breaks somewhere in the middle, "Like, to be fucked up like me? Didn't even fucking finish school, working at a shop like a fucking loser. Maybe my Dad was right."

He snorts, but there's no humor, his eyes dark.

"hasan, come on. You just need some sleep." Your voice borders on pleading.

instead, his voice is dark: "Like, this is the kicker, right?" he snorts, "You grow up and your family is shit, dies early, leaves you alone to raise a kid, right?"

He laughs, shakes his head, "And the whole time, you're terrified you're going to fuck her up. Turn out like her Father, or even worse, like you, right? And you can't do a damn thing about it."

"hasan," You plead, "You aren't a fuck up-"

"And it's all going to be my fucking fault," He shakes his head, "I can't blame anyone but myself."

Sometimes, when he gets like this, there's no talking him off the ledge.

instead, it's laying against the couch, pulling him into you, gently ruffling his hair, letting him rant into your pajama shirt, goes from borderline yelling, to sobbing, whole body shaking weeping that leaves wet stains on your shirt that you both ignore, holding him close, praying for it to be over-

by the time he's exhausted, when his eyes are drooping and low, from lack of sleep, and from crying, he leads you by the hand up the creaking stairs, to the old bedroom-

the only saving grace, you can think of, as you lay in the bed, is that tomorrow is his only day off after a full week of working late, showing up to Amelie's practices just in time, peeling his grease stained shirt off in the parking lot, trying to look presentable after a long day, the world beating his ass day after day-

Birds outside the powerlines wake hasan up.

Which is unusual, since usually, his alarm has him up at 4am, when birds dare sing yet, still trying to sleep in for five more minutes-

this causes him to panic, naturally.

"Fuck!" he all but screams when he rolls over, the alarm clock says 10:06 in red, as if mocking him.

You aren't in his too small bed, and your spot on the mattress is long cold, which also worries him-

one thing at a time your voice comes through his head, the gentle voice you use on him when he's spiraling, when you hold either side of his face in your palm, making him look at you: one thing at a time, hasan. Just one-

a deep breathe and he nods, hops around on the floor as he gets into his old work jeans, worn with age and from working, covered in a mix of grease and who knows what fuck else-

he's buttoning his work shirt, which he's 90% sure smells and he'll need to Febreze, as he runs down the stairs, to the kitchen, yelling to Amelie:

"Aimes!" He yells, running his hands through his hair, is going to have to skip a shower since his alarm didn't go off, "sunshine, we got ten minutes, baby girl. You gotta get up!"

Breakfast will have to be quick, instant, something that will make the mothers in the pick up line clutch their necklaces and lean their heads in to whisper about that brother, the one who's raising his kid on a steady diet of store brand poptarts, instant oatmeal, and most days-pleading and begging with whatever god exists to stop making him a fucking joke for the love of god-

"hasan," Amelie giggles as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. "We're up already, silly."

she's giggling, a smile on her face as she wears one of his old shirts from marching band, far too big on her, down to her knees, is kneeling on an old mismatched stool as she helps you pour flour into a mixing bowl-

"We're-" he pauses, his shirt buttons fucked up, "Late?"

It's a question, not a satement.

"It's Sunday, honey." You smile warmly at him, walk over and fix his shirt for him, "Come on, breakfast will be ready soon."

"hasan," Amelie giggles, "We're making pancakes."

She giggles like it's a secret, when in reality, it's just a rare treat. Panckes are money and time consuming-and he has neither.

"I see, sunshine'." He smiles as he sits down next to you, "With chocolate chips?' He tickles her side, kisses the side of her face, fond on his face.

"Here." His head looks up, and he's immediately handed a warm mug of coffee into his hands. He inhales it deeply; smells perfect-

"You didn't have to do this." His voice is gentle, small, like he's scared, isn't use to this kind of treatment-

"I know," You shrug, as you grab the bowl of batter, "But it's what you do for people you love."

and you say it so simply, so matter of fact.

the first i love you he's ever gotten, that's ever meant something, isn't matched with the rug being pulled out from under him, without the kiss of a fist-

"Yeah," Amelie parrots, "For people you love."

and you ruffle her hair as she helps you pour the batter, the love is said with the same mocking siblings do, but the smile says she loves having you around, another parental figure, someone to help hasan-

Your eyes slowly drag up, as you realize what you said, afraid he'll be upset, or not feel the same, will yell or kick you out, scare him off-

instead, he comes into the kitchen, drags his finger through the bowl to taste it, another dip to touch it to the tip of Amelie's nose, before his hands go around your waist, his chin on your shoulder-

"Yeah," he says gently, into your ear, before he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his voice is low and deep, how you know he means it: "I love you too."

#caroline writes #hasanabi #hasanabi x reader #hasanabi x y/n #hasanabi x you #hasan #hasan piker x you #hasan x reader #hasan piker fanfic #hasan piker fanfiction #hasan piker fic #hasan piker imagine #hasan piker x reader #hasan piker

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trans-snart · 1 year

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HELP US MOVE! ❤️

My current lease is ending and the new one increases my rent past the point of affordability, so I'm trying to get out ASAP (crossing my fingers for August) into a new place closer to my new job. I know deposits and pet fees will be ridiculous and I'm eligible for more hours at work starting next month, but right now I'm pretty much paycheck-to-paycheck so it's difficult to save up.

Any assistance to put a dent in the fees is greatly appreciated! ❤️

v*nmo: @jgadd-nelson / c*shapp: $JGaddNelson

#please reblog!

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multifandomworldsposts · 10 months

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The Night We Met PT 4

pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

warning: making out

A WEEK LATER

Y/N’s POV

I'm cleaning our dishes, I hear the door open and it's JJ with an envelope.

"Y/N. I got something!" JJ says in a singing voice.

"What is it?" I walked up to him.

JJ opens the envelope, it's his paycheck. He looks like a kid that got candy the first time.

"How much did you make?" I look at him.

"50 bucks!" He shows me the check with a huge smile on his face.

I hug him. I've never seen him this happy for a while.

"I'm so proud of you Jay!" I stop hugging him and look at him.

"I want to give you half of it."

"Oh no no JJ, you keep it," I said.

"I want to give you half because my dad didn't give me anything if it comes to money." He insists.

"Fine baby. If that makes you happy." I said to him.

"Y/N/N, I have other good news."

I look at him.

"The Pogues are coming to Y/C/N!"

"They are!"

"Mm-hmm, this Thursday." He smiles

I get excited! We haven't seen them since they left Y/C/N.

JJ picked the Pogues up from the airport and talked for hours, just like the last time we saw them. When they came in the door, they could tell I'm so excited to see them. Sarah and Kiara hug me including John B and Pope as well.

"How's it going in Y/C/N JJ?" Pope says with a glass of beer in his hand.

"It's amazing! Y/N/N showed me a lot of things here." JJ looks at me and put his hand on my thigh.

"I already know what you two did, that's disgusting!" Kiara hides her face in her.

"No, not that!" I said in a guilty voice.

"She's guilty! Y/N is guilty!" Sarah points at me.

I blush.

"See!" Sarah says.

"Oh my god you guys did do it." John B says.

"Can we stop talking about this and let's talk about something else." I said.

"JJ got his paycheck the other day." I announced.

"Oh really! How much?" Pope says.

"50 bucks." JJ smiles.

"That's amazing Jay! Just save it for the future." Kiara says about to drink her coke.

"We will, won't we Y/N/N?" JJ looks at me and says.

"I hope we will Jay." I look at him.

The Pogues, JJ and I talked more and more about what's been going on in our lives. After that the Pogues, JJ, and I went to bed.

I get in satin pajamas that JJ bought me for my birthday last year.

I get comfortable in our bed and JJ says, “You know those pajamas give me a boner.” With a smirky face.

“JJ! You want me to take this off then?” I playfully hit him.

“I prefer that baby.” He pulls me closer to him.

“We have company in the other room.” I put my right hand on his chest.

“Can you at least give me a kiss?” He says to me.

I kiss him, but JJ wanted to kiss me more.

“JJ, I’m so tired. I want to sleep.” I stop him from kissing me.

“Fine.” He says.

THE NEXT DAY

JJ, The Pogues, and I are going to dinner but JJ looks nervous and I don’t know why. We went to our table and our food was delicious! I got a really good Salmon with Rice, JJ got the same thing as me and the rest of the Pogues got Pasta or Lobster.

A couple hours later, something amazing happens, JJ proposed to me. When our dessert came around, mine said ‘Will you marry me?’ and of course I said yes! Everyone in the restaurant and the Pogues were so excited and happy about us. I’m future Mrs. JJ Maybank!

#fanfic #fanfiction #netflix #outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow #jj maybank fanfiction #rudy pankow smut #obx #pope outer banks #fanfics #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank obx #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fluff

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freeleyenrashespeakstruth · 2 months

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We are all just wasting time

You know, I'm giving upon listening to politics and believing anything that I hear. It's all the same and we all talk about it, and talk about it , and talk about it but nothing ever gets done. The politicians got us all convinced our votes matter, so we trust them and we think strongly that changes will be made because we say so, but they don't care, we don't matter. We work for them, they don't work for us. Then the next generation takes over. Nothing gets better, only worse. And those of us in my generation will all be dead already because we saw it happening 30 years ago and we all talked about it and talked about it, and talked about it, and talked about it, but the politicians had us all thinking our votes still mattered so we strongly fought and voted but it only got worse, never better.

And the older generation all died off and a new generation came out. (Funny, as i write this I'm listening to a Pink Floyd song and the words I heard were "sometimes it feels to me that I'm just being used." Classic, and perfect timing.) And at the time people saw things were not going right and they talked about it, and they talked about it, and talked about it, but then the politicians actually worked for us. Or at least it seemed that way. What We The People of the United States of America are seeing is a communist takeover of the best kind. We can't even fight it anymore. Our kids have been indoctrinated for years and each new generation is more liberal than the previous one.

This all started after, or before, world War 2 and it just keep getting stronger every year. All of our politicians know all about it. Any arrests these days are of mostly the good guys and never the bad guys, who literally get away with murder, and we the people don't ever seem to do anything about it at all. Every generation is the same. We start out more liberal and then as we grow up we start paying attention. But by then it's too late. Then we sit and wonder why isn't anyone doing anything about this especially after all these years. Then we die off and it just continues. It's evil. A communist takeover for sure, and yes, the end of the world as we know it.

Not to mention, the Democrats are much more obvious and blatant, although the Republicans pretend they are against it but get the same paycheck. At lease back in my day they pretended a lot more and a lot better. Not these Democrats. They come right out and tell you they want immigrants to flood the country, all on the backs of the citizen. And as it gets closer to an election they boldly lie and accuse the other party (see Biden's State of the Union Address) or just drop the subject in the media (no more talk about the lgbt agenda and indoctrinating our kids since before the last election, but I guarantee its still going on) and all we do is talk about it, then we talk more about it, then we talk about it., etc, etc, etc...

Then the older generation dies off, the new generation comes in and the cycle continues.

Our only hope, and our best hope at all times, is that Jesus is coming.

Jesus IS our Best hope.

Jesus IS our ONLY hope.

Come Lord Jesus!

Amen!

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joecooperzz · 7 months

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freak accident (vampire!trey parker x fem!reader)

I've been working on this since July! I never thought I'd finish it, but I did. Hope it makes up for me being too busy to do Kinktober the right way. Thanks so much to @sqiblet for helping my develop Vampire!Trey and giving me some ideas that I incorporated here. 🖤

Word Count: 6,804

Content: Vampirism, biting, graphic description of blood, dubious consent, supernatural intoxication, oral (f!receiving,) vaginal fingering, praise kink, possessive behavior, overstimulation, unsafe sex

Minors (anyone 17 and under) DNI!

The entire time, every bit of you had been screaming that this wasn't right.

Even as you fluttered your eyelashes at the cute young bartender, making a pun about the lewd name of your drink, your senses were overwhelmed by your boyfriend.

On the standard level, you knew that your heart belonged to Trey. Hell, you were obsessed with him in just about every way possible. You'd keep him in your apartment with you forever if you could. Alas, work and commitments got in the way, forcing you to separate every once in a while. Whenever he returned, you were always waiting for him, flippantly asking him if he needed to eat while noting the look of overwhelming desire on his face. By the time your neck was exposed, he was already jumping on you, inspiring agony and bliss in equal measure as he sunk his teeth into your skin.

Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel like he did.

Still, you flirted with the bartender, putting on your best show. This was just a little game you were playing, after all. You even let Trey pick your outfit for the occasion, — some skimpy black dress that he had spent a good portion of his most recent paycheck on, just because he wanted to see you in it so badly. It fit like a glove, hence why it was your designated 'showing off' outfit.

And show off, you did.

Even when the lingering venom from Trey's repeated bites still coursed through your veins, reminding you that you would always belong to him and only him, deep down. Even when you knew he was in your head. Even as he sat next to you, the telepathic bond between the two of you telling you not to even think about it.

Even if you weren't really thinking about it, you pretended to, just for the hell of it.

That's how you ended up here.

The door to the single bathroom slams shut behind you, just before strong hands land on either side of your waist. Before you can think too hard about it, you're being hoisted up to perch on the edge of the sink.

Trey kneels on the tiled floor. Even when he's looking up at you, he manages to make you feel small and vulnerable.

You shiver as one of his large, freezing cold hands lands on your bare thigh. "Did you enjoy that?" he bites out, fingertips digging into your skin.

You swallow hard. "I didn't mean…"

"Ohh. You didn't mean it, huh?" His fingers dig in harder, nails leaving behind half-moon imprints. Though you know that this will be the least of the pain that he inflicts on you tonight, your breath still hitches. "You were just testing me, weren't you?"

His grip loosens up, leaving him to trace gentle circles on your skin. You nod, desperate for whatever response he might give you, be it positive or negative. As it stands, all you need is his attention, for him to just keep looking at you, letting you revel in the fact that you're his.

He continues to fix you with that cold, blue glare. "Words, angel," he encourages you flatly.

"Yes," you manage. "It was all just a test." You shift against the porcelain, feeling the first rush of heat between your legs. "I'm sorry."

He chuckles, causing you to freeze.

When you're at home on the couch, head spinning and eyes bleary as Trey pulls you closer to him, his laughter is a warm sound. When he's looking at you like this, though, all wild and hungry, the sound sends a shiver up your spine, warning of the things to come.

"Well, baby," he says. "You might not have known it, but I was testing you, too." His hand begins to travel up your thigh, so very slow. "And you failed. Big time."

Your heart begins to speed up even more, echoing in your ears. "Sorry," you manage. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—"

"Shh." He begins to tug at your skirt, pushing it further and further up your thighs. "Save your breath, sweet thing. Apologies aren't going to get you anywhere now." He freezes, taking in the sight before him with a surprised click of his tongue.

"Holy fuck," he mutters. "No panties."

He looks up at you as one cold finger runs teasingly over your center, already meeting a flood of wet warmth. "Who's this for, hmm?" he asks. "Me or him?"

"You," you respond quickly, the short word edged with a needy gasp. "All for you."

He hums. "Should be." With that, his head begins to dip down, closer to where you need him. Seemingly automatically, your hands land on the back of his shaggy head, attempting to shove him down faster.

Without even having to look, he reaches one arm out, wrapping a strong hand around your wrist. Immediately, you recognize your mistake, inspiring another rush of heat to your face… and your pussy.

"No," he says flatly. "You don't get that yet." You feel him smile as he presses an uncharacteristically soft kiss against your thigh. "That's for good girls."

You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched whine. "Sorry."

He laughs again, that same hard-edged, mean sound. "Not sorry enough, clearly." His hand loosens around your wrist, returning to your hip as his grip tightens on both sides. "I've gotta remind you who you belong to before I can make you feel good, yeah?"

He plants a longer, wetter kiss against your thigh before pulling back. Though he's freezing cold, his eyes are ablaze. "Spread."

You couldn't resist his orders if you wanted to. Luckily, that isn't an issue.

You spread your legs, allowing for him to lunge for the meat of your inner thigh while you wait for him, wet and wanting.

The combination of the cool air on your aching core and the threatening sharpness of his teeth against your skin leaves you throwing your head back, rattling the mirror ever-so-slightly.

As soon as he nips at your leg, breaking the skin for the first time, you feel the distinct venomous sting that always comes with the first bite. It runs through your veins, heady and cold, dizzying. You let out a yelp. Your fingers tangle in his hair on autopilot. Luckily, despite the earlier ordeal with you pushing his head down, he doesn't stop you this time. He knows you need something to steady yourself, — deep down, he's probably happy it's him rather than the sink.

Just as soon as his fangs have pierced the first two holes, he moves on higher up your leg to create another. You know what he's doing. He won't go too deep on a single bite, — he'll save that for when you're at home, and he needs to feed. This is a separate thing entirely.

Small, pinprick bites come to decorate your inner thighs, one after another. With each small puncture of his fangs, small amounts of venom come to rest beneath the skin, slowly washing your body with the euphoric sensation of pure need.

Simply put, he's infiltrating your brain, rendering you chemically dependent on him, as though he were some sort of drug. It's horrible and romantic all at once, and you swear you wouldn't have it any other way if you could. Long before he first sunk his teeth into your skin, you wanted him. And now, you have him, for however long forever is for you. For his sake, you hope it's a long, long time.

You look down at him now. Eyes growing heavy from the venom's intoxicating effects, you lazily brush his hair back from his eyes before running your hands over his scalp.

It doesn't escape you that he tenses slightly at your touch. Your heart sinks. You know how he is with displays of affection from you. Unless he initiates first, he vehemently believes that he doesn't deserve your tenderness. After all, in his own eyes, he is nothing more than a monster, literally draining you of life. His sense of guilt eats you up inside, especially considering that there's nothing you can do to remedy it.

You see the way that he's looking at you now as he continues to decorate your upper thigh in small marks. There's this look in his eyes that makes you think of how he must have looked walking home from that bar nearly thirty years ago, unaware that his mortal life as he knew it would come to an end in a dark alley at the hands of some ravenous beast. Despite the fact that he's still biting you, he looks… scared. All you can see in his eyes is the lost young man that he once was. The lost young man who should be well into his fifties now, but is stuck in a twenty-something's body, depending on your blood to keep him alive.

Perhaps it's the venom pumping through you, increasing your connection, or maybe the few drinks that you've already had, or just the fact that he looks pretty and sad and you really want him to eat you out. Whatever the case, you feel like you should be doing something other than this. Something to make him feel better.

Before you can consider other, potentially better options, you find your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling as his name breaks up from your throat. "Trey," you whimper quietly.

He groans against your skin, tongue flattening over the freshest bite. You let out a high-pitched cry, tugging at his hair again. "Trey," you repeat. "Come on, please…"

His bites trail upwards, closer and closer to where you need him. Each one comes with a small rush of simultaneous pain and pleasure, so fucking addictive.

Whether or not he was really worried about the bartender, he's got you right where he wants you now. All you can think about is him. His name is the only one passing your lips, his venom lacing your blood, his mouth so close to where you need it…

"Trey," you repeat, sounding something like a broken record as you close your eyes and lean back against the mirror. "Please, please, please…"

You gasp, hand flying up to cover your mouth as sudden, harsh pain rips through you. Like an electric shock, it starts in your leg and jolts the rest of your body, inspiring a muffled scream. You feel Trey pull back, just before you hear him curse.

"Shit."

When you look down, he's rising up from the floor, desperately reaching for the paper towel dispenser. He rips a few off before kneeling in front of you again. Wide-eyed, you look down at his blood-smeared face as he begins to press against the fresh wound on your leg.

"I'm so sorry," he says as he presses down harder, inspiring a sharp hiss from you. "Fuck…"

He pulls the paper towel back and actually growls. Once you get a good look at it, you understand why.

Blood pours from the punctures his fangs have left in your skin. In comparison to the other marks, this one is much deeper, the sort of bite that he leaves behind when he feeds. By the looks and feel of it, the blood is flowing at a similar rate, too.

You watch Trey's face as he takes in the sight. You can see his mental struggle, — trying to decide whether to give into his instinct and latch on or just keep applying pressure.

"It's okay," you tell him. "You can…"

He shakes his head before you can even finish your sentence. "No," he says, standing up to grab another paper towel. He swipes it across his face, rubbing the blood off. "That'll just make it flow faster, and I don't want you passing out on me. Not here, at least." He tosses the towel into the trash can before reaching for your waist again, placing you back on the floor. "C'mon. I'm taking you home."

As soon as your feet hit the floor, you feel yourself growing slightly woozy. You lean against him with a soft whimper, eyes squeezing closed.

"No, no, sweetheart. Stay with me." You feel a cold hand gently pat your face, inspiring your eyes to flutter back open and focus on him. He smiles, faint remnants of blood marking his sharp teeth. "That's my girl."

You smile back weakly as a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his side. "Just lean against me," he encourages you. "I've got you, yeah?"

You hum a weak agreement as you head towards the bathroom door.

Luckily, the two of you had already paid your tab before you snuck off. All that's left is to make your way through the sea of people and out the door before he takes you back to your apartment.

"Move slow," he urges you. "Hey… Watch your breathing, baby. There you go."

You didn't notice before now that your breathing was coming fast. The mixture of venom, blood loss, and anxiety has you reeling, leaving you out of touch with your own body.

Luckily for you, Trey knows. Even if he was the one who just accidentally left an open wound on your thigh, you trust that he won't let anything happen to you. He's aware of your vitals, — how you feel, how much you can take, — without you even having to tell him. Even if it takes him all night to walk you home, he'll make the sacrifice. He takes care of you like that.

Now, he's squeezing your shoulder, leading you towards the door as he guides your breathing. "In and out, okay? Slow." The two of you step out of the bar and into the night. Luckily, it's relatively cool outside, not allowing for the weather to worsen your lightheaded state. "Talk to me when you can handle it, alright?"

You inhale the cool night's air before speaking. "I'm scared people are staring."

He shrugs. "If they stare, they stare." He nudges you gently. "They aren't gonna know," he says quietly. "Far as they know, you slipped and fell or something." His arm tightens around your waist. "Freak accident."

You smile weakly. "Freak accident," you echo. "Yeah."

By some miracle, you make it back to your apartment complex without incident. Before you can attempt to scale the stairs, Trey picks you up, carrying you as though you were no heavier than a grocery bag.

You lean into him with a shaky sigh. It's so strange, the way that he could accidentally kill you at any moment, yet he makes you feel so safe. You know that he would die and/or kill for you in a second. He loves you just as much as you love him, if not even more.

He stops in front of your door, delicately maneuvering past your body to pull the key from his pocket. Still, he quietly asks before sticking it in the lock: "May I come in?"

You chuckle quietly, leaning against his shoulder. "You may."

He turns the key in the lock and steps over the threshold before closing the door behind him.

He saunters over to the couch and sets you down gently. As soon as you begin settling against the cushions, he sinks to his knees in front of you.

He lets out a shaky sound akin to a sigh as he clumsily pushes your dress up around your hips, revealing the open wound on your leg once more. It's still steadily dripping blood, causing the hungry look in Trey's eyes to intensify by the millisecond.

Propping yourself up on the cushions, you offer him a murmur of encouragement. "Go ahead."

As soon as he gets his permission, he wastes no time sinking his fangs back into you.

You hiss, throwing your head back as your fingers tangle in his hair once again. Your eyes squeeze shut as the agonizing euphoria overwhelms you. His venom clouds your head, washing you in a warm, heady haze. You feel wanted and needed and loved as he takes what he needs from you, his grateful moans muffled against your raw, bleeding flesh.

He laps up the blood with a surprising amount of precision, considering his obvious state of desperation. Despite his obvious hunger, he doesn't take from you in a manner that seems greedy or ungrateful. In fact, he does quite the opposite. He tastes you as though you were the world's finest wine, appreciating every last drop. He could damn well suck you dry, here and now. And yet, he doesn't.

Instead, he pulls back, flashing you a bloodstained smile that makes your head spin even more. Through the muddled haze of your mind, you make out his words: "My beautiful girl."

His praise simply inspires a lovesick whimper from you as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair.

He chuckles before lowering his head again, this time to press a series of gentle kisses above the wound.

"So fucking perfect," he mutters in between kisses. "My good little pet. My girl." He stops at the hem of your skirt before hiking it up even higher. By this point, his voice is little more than a growl as his still-hungry gaze lands on your bare pussy.

He lets out a low groan. "Fuck, baby," he says. "I could fucking devour you."

You believe him in every sense of that word. Furthermore, you want him to.

"Please," you whine. "Need you so bad, Trey. Fuck."

He lets out another grumbling groan as he reaches for your ankles, pulling your legs up to rest over his shoulders. "You've got me," he assures you before diving in.

You gasp, your back instantly arching.

Every time he eats you out while you're venom-drunk, you swear you could fucking ascend. You're already so lost in him after he bites you, and then he drops down to his knees and worships you with his tongue.

That's how you think of it, — a way to thank you for being his life source, the closest thing to divinity that he can bring himself to believe in anymore.

You feel pretty close to divine yourself as his tongue laps over your clit, over and over again, inspiring the most beautifully overwhelming pleasure you think you could ever feel. Your thighs involuntarily clap around his head, keeping him trapped exactly where he is. Luckily for both of you, it isn't like he needs to be able to breathe.

Somehow, you manage to open your eyes enough to look down at him. The sight alone is enough to cause your knees to buckle and the knot in your stomach to tighten.

There's blood everywhere, — on his face, in his hair, all over your legs and surely between them, too. His eyes are heavy, clouded by his utter focus on your aching center.

His mouth moves in just the right way, his tongue hitting all the right places. It's so much, almost *too* much. The fact that you know he's reading your mind, — figuring out exactly what you want without you even having to ask, — makes it all the more intense.

Without thinking twice, you find yourself rolling your hips up against his face, only for two inhumanly strong hands to pin you down a moment later. You swear you could cry as he lifts his head, bringing the waves of pleasure to a halt for one terrible moment before his fingers take the place of his tongue. You continue to squirm as two fingers pump in and out of you, strategically curling against the spot that he knows makes you scream.

"Don't fight, sweetheart," he says, as though he honestly believes that your writhing is an attempt to get away rather than a plea for more. "You know that just makes me want it more." He laughs, a flash of red-stained fangs as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. You let out a pathetic whine, eyes fluttering as they threaten to roll back into your head.

"That feels good, huh?" He's laughing at you again. At this point, it just makes you tighten around his fingers even more. You're his. All his.

You give a weak attempt at a nod, your affirmative hum turning into a muffled moan halfway through.

Another mean chuckle. "I know it does, pet," he coos. "You fucking love it when I curl my fingers right here, don't you?"

A rush of heat washes over you, causing your pussy to tighten and your knees to get weak. You let out another, louder moan, nodding your head fervently.

"Yeah?" Clearly, he thinks your reactivity is fucking hilarious. Bastard. "That's the spot, huh? Oh, you're so tight, baby…" Without warning, he begins to move his fingers faster, managing to hit that fucking spot every single time.

You clap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to drown out the noises that you can't control at this point.

As it turns out, this is a mistake.

"Trying to be quiet, hmm? Don't wanna bother the neighbors? You're so fucking cute." He begins to lower his head again. Panic rises up within you when you realize that he's not going for the aching place between your legs, but the thigh that he hasn't already taken a chunk out of.

You pull your hand away to formulate a surely futile warning. "Trey—" Your hand returns to your mouth as his fangs pierce the plush skin, another shrill sound escaping your mouth as he goes all the way in, the venom beginning to make the burning turn a bit fuzzy. He keeps fucking you with his fingers all the while, lapping greedily at the brand new wound as your head spins.

You keep tightening around him with every thrust, threatening to tip past the point of no return. Before you can remove your hand to let out another debauched whimper of his name, he pulls away, licking up an errant droplet of blood before posing you with a warning. "Don't come yet."

With the way your stomach is currently tying itself into a knot, that request sounds quite impossible. "I can't —"

"You can hold off. I know you can." He says it with so much certainty just before he latches on to your leg again, sucking as his fingers continue their unrelenting pace and his venom continues to flood your veins.

It's all you can do not to burst into tears. You can't hold off. You can't. "Trey," you try again, though you know it's a lost cause. You're already so fucking close, clamping down around him like a vice. Even if he pulled back now, you would probably still fall apart, clenching around nothing.

But he isn't pulling away, or even slowing down. He just keeps moving his fingers, and feeding off your blood, and…

Fucking looking up at you with those icy eyes, the intensity of a killer trapped within the body of a man who loves you with all of his being.

That's enough to make the trembling in your thighs intensify. You scream into the palm of your hand, eyes squeezing closed as heat rushes between your legs, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Once your shaking begins to die down, Trey pulls back from your leg with a disapproving hum. "You never listen, do you?"

You swallow hard. "I— I couldn't—"

He chuckles. "You could have. You just didn't try hard enough."

You flinch as he pulls his fingers out of you, only to roughly spread your legs further apart. He spreads you open with two fingers, collecting the wetness from your orgasm. "And now you're gonna give me another one," he says matter-of-factly before his mouth returns to your dripping core.

You gasp, squirming slightly at the overstimulation before reminding yourself to hold still. Luckily for you, the brief discomfort soon morphs into ecstasy as he gets you hurtling towards another release. God, is he good with his fucking mouth.

You go back to tugging at his hair, your head falling limp against the couch cushions. He works his mouth against your hot cunt with the same urgency as he sucks the blood from your wounds, like any bit of you could keep him alive, just because it's from you.

His words keep echoing in your head. You're gonna give me another one. Yeah, you're definitely going to, — soon, if the building warmth in your stomach is any indication. Your grip on him tightens, — as though, just for a moment, he was your prey.

You hold onto him for dear life as he keep his face buried between your bloody thighs. Scarlet drips down to stain the couch cushions, but you'll worry about that later. Your mind is a muddled mess of Oh God, right there and please don't stop, and he knows. He fucking knows what he's doing to you, and he's devoting his eternity to doing right by you in every way possible.

The waves come faster, and you know it's inevitable. He doesn't tell you to stop this time, — he just digs his fingertips into your thighs and moves his tongue faster, as though he's inviting it.

You don't bother to cover your mouth as the pleasure overtakes you, nor do you pay any mind to the fact that you're rolling your hips up into his face like an animal in heat, so desperate and greedy for him.

He stays exactly where he is until your grip relaxes and you physically push him away. When he looks up at you afterwards, he looks a little drunk himself, eyes hazy as he flashes you a lazy, self-satisfied smile.

Though you know that he knows exactly what you want, you don't hesitate to reach for him. You grab him by the face and pull him in, kissing him hungrily. The taste that floods your mouth is just as intoxicating as it is strange, — metallic and sweet with a cool undertone. Blood and cum and, underneath it all, Trey. He overwhelms your senses, his tongue in your mouth, his venom in your veins. You need him like air. No, more than air.

So you reach down, managing to undo the button and zipper on his pants without pulling away from the kiss. You wrap one leg around his hip, pushing him towards you before coming up for air.

"Need you… Inside me," you force out between heaving gasps. "Please."

He doesn't say anything in response. Instead, he tugs at one of your dress straps, hard. The harsh pull causes a seam to rip, leaving the dress unraveling around you.

You roll your eyes. "Jesus Christ. You're a fucking animal."

"Mmm-hmm." Unbothered, Trey dips his face into the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of wet, — but thus far unintrusive, — kisses. "Your fucking animal."

You can't help but giggle, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he hovers over you, taking his sweet time focusing on your neck. "I pussy-whipped a creature of the night. Awesome."

"Mmm… I'll buy you a new one, baby." His lips stop at your collarbone before traveling back up to just below your chin. Then, he pulls away, tugging down his pants and boxers. He has the decency not to rip those.

As soon as he's able, he pulls you back close to hip, your legs tightening around his waist. His lips return to your neck. He kisses his way to the spot just below your ear. "Hold still, alright?" he whispers before inching forward, pushing inside of you all at once.

You gasp quietly, leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder.

"Head up," Trey commands you, tilting your chin up to look at him. You let out another whine as your eyes meet his. It's already all so intense, — the feeling of him inside you, his hand still cupping your chin, the lingering effects of the venom from his earlier bites. He gives a satisfied hum, lips brushing against yours before he begins to move.

Unlike most times, he starts slow, — something you appreciate considering the amount of blood you've lost tonight. Still, needy noises seem to escape your throat with his every movement, your nails digging into the cold skin of his back. Every bit of you wants to hide your face again, partially out of embarrassment from being so damn loud, partially to be as close to him as possible, but you know he won't let that happen.

"Look at me," he orders now, surely reading your mind.

You do look at him. He is just as terrifying and beautiful as always, cold and bloodsoaked, eyes on fire. You want to lean up to kiss him, but you physically can't bring yourself to move. Every part of you feels simultaneously heavy and alight with nerves.

Trey closes the distance for you, pressing his lips hard against yours. You close your eyes, reveling in the pleasure that overwhelms you as his hips snap against yours, faster now. You vaguely register the sound of the springs on the couch creaking as he moans into your mouth.

The two of you melt into one another as though you were a single being. You are consumed by the taste of your blood in his mouth in the same way that he is consumed by the fact that you want him so bad, your thoughts flooding his mind.

You tense underneath him, crying out as he hits the same spot his fingers honed in on earlier. Of course, he takes note. You let out a string of desperate moans as he somehow manages to reach the exact right place with every thrust.

He pulls away from your lips to murmur in your ear. "You love this, don't you?" he asks, as though he doesn't already know. "You like it when I bite you until your brain turns off? Like it when I fuck you stupid?"

You let out a sob in response, your legs tightening around his waist. Yes, you think, allowing your thoughts to tell him what your mouth can't at the moment. I love it when you fuck me like this. Fucking love it when you make me go cockdumb.

He must get the message loud and clear. A low laugh rumbles in his chest, pressed against yours. "You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?" he presses on.

Despite the effects of the venom weighing down your body, you manage a nod. Yes. Yes. God, yes.

"Good girl," he coos. "Would you let me bite you again? Get you real fucking wasted while I'm inside you?"

Another desperate moans passes your lips. Please. Please, Trey. Please, please, please, fucking bite me.

He groans at your mental admission. "Holy fuck, you're perfect," he says from between gritted teeth, driving into you harder and harder. "You can take it, right, baby? You always take me so fucking good…"

Another brainless nod. Anything. I'll take anything you give me.

"Mmm… Good fucking girl," he praises you. "Where do you want it, baby?" Your heart flutters as his finger stops to rest, directly next to an artery. "Right here?"

Your breath hitches. You know that he could kill you if he bit down on that area with too much reckless abandon. You also know that he will only go as far as he possibly can without threatening your life.

Contrary to what many people might believe if they saw the bloody mess you and your boyfriend have made on your couch, he values nothing more than he values your life.

Yes. Right there.

"Fuck." He gives a shaky groan just before sinking his teeth into your neck.

You scream then, neighbors be damned.

He keeps his teeth in your neck as he fucks you at a bruising pace. Equal parts pain and pleasure engulf you as your legs turn to jelly. You go limp in his jaws like a small animal being devoured by some terrible beast, succumbing to complete, helpless submission.

The pain soon fades into the background, being replaced by the pleasant numbness that comes along with his venom. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the fresh rush of intoxicating poison as you sink into the couch cushions, letting him take as he sees fit.

He has no problem with this, letting out a satisfied grunt against your neck with every harsh thrust. One of his arms wraps around your waist, superhumanly strong, holding you up as he continues to ravage you.

Even when he's distracted by the fresh blood filling his mouth, he is precise in the way he fucks you, each snap of his hips bringing you closer to climax.

Your head spins as the feeling washes over you. You offer Trey a mental warning just before you begin to tighten around him.

So fucking close, oh my God, please…

You let out a strangled whine as his mouth leaves your neck. He leans in to whisper in your ear as he continues his steady pace. "Go ahead, baby. Cum," he encourages you as he keeps fucking you, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "Oh, that's it. Good girl. Fucking… Cum all over me, that's fucking it…"

You let out a series of pathetic whimpers as you tense up underneath him, only to fall apart a moment later. You whine as you cum hard around his cock, trembling beneath him as he releases your hips in favor of pinning your wrists to the wall above the couch. You swear you hear him fucking growl in your ear as he works you through your orgasm… and then afterwards.

It seems like every nerve in your body springs to life as you realize he isn't stopping. You momentarily panic at the overstimulation washing over you, causing you to dig your fingers harder into his back.

Too much, you think. Don't know if I can take it.

Not a moment after the thought crosses your mind, Trey is cooing in your ear. "You've got it, sweetheart," he assures you. "You can take more, baby. I know you can. Just cum one more time for me…"

If he says you can take it, you know that you can. You squeeze your eyes shut and cling tighter to him, bracing yourself as the overwhelming sensation slowly becomes a pleasurable one.

Soon, you find that you're approaching yet another peak. As it would seem, you aren't the only one.

"Fuuucckkk." Trey buries his face in your bloodied neck. "Gonna fucking… fill you up, holy fucking shit, you feel so good…"

You cling on tighter to him as he licks the stray scarlet droplets from your skin, digging your nails into him as you prepare to fall apart completely.

"You're mine," Trey goes on as he continues to drive into you. "All fucking mine. My girl. Mine."

You let out another lovesick whine, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. All yours, you promise him, just before your fourth orgasm of the night overtakes you, causing you to melt into a trembling mess beneath him.

Trey's eyes damn near roll back as you tighten up around him. "Oh, fuck…" He goes still on top of you for a moment, only to relax as he releases inside of you with a loud, drawn-out groan. You use the opportunity to bury your face in his shoulder as you attempt to come back to earth.

After a few moments, Trey seems to relax along with you. He stays inside of you for a moment, face still buried in your neck. "Holy shit," he mutters. "You're unreal."

You laugh weakly, brushing your fingers lightly over his back. "I'm not the one who's an actual vampire," you manage, your first words as the venom haze begins to uncloud from your head.

"Hmm… Fair point." He presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back, eyes staring deeply into yours. His hand comes to rest on the side of your face, uncharacteristically delicate. "You okay?" he asks softly.

You nod slowly. "I am," you confirm. "Just a little… sticky."

He smiles slyly, fangs flashing.

You roll your eyes before taking on an additional comment on your condition. "I'm a little dizzy, too," you confess quietly.

Trey leans in, pressing a kiss against your cheek before pulling back with a gentle pat on your cheek. "Stay there," he orders you before pulling his boxers up and wandering off to your bedroom.

You allow your eyes to drift closed for a moment, only livening up when you feel a cold hand gently brushing against your bare leg. Your sleepy gaze wanders down to Trey as he kneels in front of the couch again, this time holding a warm washcloth. He uses it to wipe the blood away from your thighs first, then moves his attention up to the wound on your neck. Though you hiss at the initial contact, you sound find yourself leaning into his surprisingly tender touch.

"There we go." He pulls the washcloth away before pressing another gentle kiss to your lips, only pulling away when he reaches for the bottle of rubbing alcohol that he brought along.

You allow your mind to go blank as he takes care of you. This has become a familiar routine since you've been together: washcloth, antiseptic, situationally-inappropriate cutesy Band-Aid, in that order. You come back around for the last part, zoning back in for Trey's inquiry: "Hello Kitty or Snoopy?"

You grin lazily before pointing at your selection. He huffs out a chuckle as he obliges, sticking the cartoon-dotted adhesive strips over each disinfected wound with undeniably pure focus. Once he's done with that, he reaches for something else on the floor.

"Here you go," he says as he hands you a bundle of white fabric.

You melt as you unbunch it, only to find that it's his concert shirt from when he saw The Cure in the early 90s. You smile as you pull it over your head. "Thank you so much."

He waves a hand dismissively before reaching for one last object. "Can't forget the most important part."

Before you even register the sight, you know it's going to be a bar of dark chocolate. Still, you feel it's your duty to roll your eyes as you look at it.

"Your iron…" Trey chides as soon as he sees your expression.

"I know," you cut him off, beginning to tear the wrapper away from the bar.

He chuckles before reaching for your heated blanket. He retrieves the remote, kicking it up to the exact setting that you like before draping it over your lap, and, finally, climbing underneath it with you.

Even though he's ice cold, you immediately find yourself wrapping yourself around your boyfriend, letting out a contented sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder. Despite the manner in which he has been deflecting your affection all night, you finally feel him relax into your touch, looping his arm around your waist as he pulls you further into his side and presses his lips to your temple.

You hum quietly before murmuring the first thought that comes to mind. "You're cold," you comment, threading his fingers through yours.

He groans, dramatically throwing his head back. "You gotta stop doing that," he warns you.

You grin. "Stop doing what?"

"Being so fucking cute," he replies. "Makes me wanna…" He leans over, burying his face in your neck before making a dramatic snarling sound as he pretends to attack you with reckless abandon. You laugh at the grotesque display of endearment, halfheartedly shoving him away.

He settles down then, happy to simply lean against you under an especially warm blanket for a while.

Just when he starts to believe you've fallen asleep, you let out a drawn-out whine. "The couch…" you murmur, face pressed against his shoulder.

He reaches out to run gentle, reassuring circles against your back. "I'll get it tomorrow," he promises. "I swear, angel. I'll do anything you want me to do all day."

Your interest is piqued by that offer. "Anything?" you ask.

"Anything," he confirms.

You begin to drift off as the possibilities unfold within your mind. You figure you'll start him off with a few things as unconsciousness takes over.

Wake me up with a warm drink. Clean the couch for me. Eat me out for hours upon hours. Let me do your makeup. Online window shop for a dress to replace the one you ripped.

"Alright, alright." His arm tightens around your waist as he holds you closer. You. His life source. His reason for still being here. His reason for still wanting to be here.

"Anything you want," he promises you again as your eyes grow heavy.

taglist: @nathanyoungsupremacy

#my writing #trey parker x reader #trey parker x female reader #trey parker x you #vamp!trey

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 2 years

Text

Part 05 of 07

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader | platonic!Eddie X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Summary: You didn't get over Billy's death, isolating yourself from everyone. But when a new monster starts making victims, the party has no other choice but to involve you... And ask you to give shelter to a metalhead.

A/N: Special thanks to my wonderful friend @multific for all her help through this story. I love you, girl!!

A Good Way To Go

You're laughing for the first time in eight months, as the trailer speeds off, the party's screams filling your ears, urging Steve to go faster. But a car this size can only go that fast.

But you? After stealing a freaking house on wheels to drive it to a freaking gun store and spend half your paycheck on firepower to kill a freaking interdimensional asshole monster? You're laughing, out loud, headbanging with Eddie to the sounds of the kid's screams.

When Steve takes a turn, you and Eddie fall on your asses, falling down and sliding all the way to the back of the trailer. Both of you laughing like idiots.

“If you say you've done something crazier than this, you're a liar.” You tell Eddie as you get up, moving to sit in the middle of the trailer, on a small couch.

“This is the craziest thing I've ever done.” He admits, and you laugh all over again.

“Hey, you two. Shut it, I need to focus on the road.” Steve says, giving the two of you a glance.

“Alright, mom!” You snap back, which makes you laugh all over again.

•••

Warzone is huge. A paradise for gun nuts. Nancy and Erica immediately spread out, and they know exactly where to go and what to get... Nancy is okay, but Erica? The kid is tough.

You go your own way, grabbing a shopping cart and searching for your stuff. You take a rifle and two pistols. Plus a dozen of boxes of ammunition for each. Too much, maybe. But you don't mind. Better to be over-armed in this situation. Then you move to the knives and... Grenades? Why not?

With all your stuff in the cart, you're about to get in line to pay for it when you spot Nancy... And Jason, who has a very aggressive expression on his face. “Erica!” You whisper-yell, waving at the girl. “Here, go and pay for everything. Wait for me in the trailer. Go.” Passing her your bag, she quickly does as she says when she sees Jason's crew all around.

When she moves off, you walk over to Nancy. “I'm sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but you better let the gun go.” It comes out full of anger because you know what these assholes are doing.

Jason looks at you, a smile on his lips. “It'll be better for you if you stay out of this.”

For some reason, you feel Billy. You feel him with you, and you can only imagine what he'd do if he saw Jason looking at you this way. Biting your lip, you move to stand between him and Nancy, even though he doesn't let go of the gun. “I'm part of this. And if you don't let go right now, I'll beat you up to a pulp. You and your asshole friends.” It comes out low, slow, and full of anger. “I'm not scared of you.” With that, you push him hard on the chest, with all your strength, just how Billy taught you. Jason stumbles back, and you take the chance to kick him right where it hurts. Jason yelps, falling to his side.

Before anyone can understand what's happening, you and Nancy are off, running to one of the side doors, closer to where the trailer is parked. But you're startled out of your body when you push the door open, almost colliding headfirst with Eddie. "Jesus Christ!" He yells, and you don't even stop, you just take his hand, pulling him with you.

“Let's go!” You mutter, rushing to the trailer. “Steve, drive! Drive, drive!” And he does, speeding off. Jason's friends' come to the street, but they only watch as you drive away.

“That was close,” Erica says, catching her breath.

Nodding at her, you look at Eddie. “What were you doing back there? They could have seen you.”

“Erica said you went to face Jason. I thought to... Well, help, do something.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you gasp. “Hm... Thanks... For that. But I managed.”

“She kicked him right in the nuts!” Nancy exclaims, and everyone starts yelling for details.

As you tell them everything, you hold your necklace. Billy's necklace. He was your strength back there... He moved you. The memory of him moved you. And it makes you smile all through the storytelling.

•••

Phase one doesn't please you. Max volunteering to be the bait is one of the most stupid ideas you ever heard. But you know her, and there's no way to change her mind. So you're forced to let it be, following the others to the Upside Down again, and into the next step.

The decoy.

“Don't try to be the hero,” Steve says, the blueish lights of the Upside Down and its eternal night hiding most of his features. “Neither of you. Heard me?”

They all nod, so do you, and then you start to move to make Upside Down Eddie's trailer a safe place from the Demobats. It takes a long time, and you argue twice with Dustin in the process. But when everything is ready, and you're all set on the trailer's roof, you finally have some time to breathe. To think of the plan you made.

You might die today. Here, in this dark, cold place.

But Billy sacrificed himself for you. You're more than willing to return the favor. There's no way in hell you won't get to the bottom of this. How could his necklace, the one he was wearing, be in the woods? It's not possible... And if Hawkins is stuck in the past, in 1983, Billy wasn't here back then. No. This necklace came here with him, after his death.

And you never found the body, burying an empty coffin.

“(Y/N)?” Eddie calls, and you snap out of your thoughts, looking at him from your seated position near the edge of the trailer. “Any suggestions?”

“Hm... I really like that song from Europe?” You hum the melody. “I forgot the name.”

“The Final Countdown?” Eddie asks.

“Yes. Do you know how to play it?”

“Absolutely.” He connects his guitar to the amplifiers, and now, all you need is to wait for the signal.

Up here, in the silence - only broken by a random groan or hiss - you play back what you'll do. It has to work, and you have to make sure both Dustin and Eddie are back in Hawkins before you move. The last thing you want is to put them in danger.

“That's it!” Dustin says, getting up. “That's the sign!”

“Bring it on, baby,” Eddie mutters, and the moment he brings his hand down, the sound is loud, electrifying. This is madness, and you're quite used to madness by now. But this... This is definitely the craziest thing you have done.

As Eddie starts playing the song, you decide to sing. It doesn't take much until he joins you, headbanging as the Demobats rise from the woods, flying in your direction in a massive dark cloud.

After some time, Dustin starts the countdown... And when he reaches one, you all jump back inside the trailer, making sure to close that exit so they won't get inside.

Then, you move to the gate.

“Let's go! Maybe we're on time to help Lucas.” Dustin says, quickly climbing the sheets and then falling on the mattress.

Eddie gestures for you to go next, and you do the same for him. “Ladies first.” He says.

“Not this time, Munson. Go.”

“No. You go.” He furrows his eyebrows, and when you're about to protest, to say something, anything, that will make him start climbing the damn sheets, his eyes fall on the necklace. And understanding dawns on him. “(Y/N)...”

“Eddie, go!” The Demobats reach the trailer, and the sound of their claws scratching on metal is one of the most awful things you've ever heard.

“I know what you'll do!” He shouts over the noise. “I won't let you do this-”

“You can't stop me!” You yell right back, grabbing the sheets and handing them to him.

“I know! But I won't let you do this alone.” He says, looking down at you in a way you know he just made a decision. That he won't change his mind about it.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Dustin shouts from the ceiling. From Hawkins. Whatever.

You both look up, and you give him an apologizing look. “I'll be back. I need to try, Dustin.” With tears in your eyes, you touch the necklace's pendant. “I wouldn't forgive myself if I don't.”

“No. Come back, we'll find another way.” He pleads.

“There might not be another chance to get here! It has to be now. Before Vecna is killed.” In a sudden motion, you take the necklace off, throwing it to Dustin. “Give this to Maxine if I don't come back. To remind her of Billy, and of me... And... If I don't come back, tell her I died trying to save her brother. That I think this is a good way to go. She'll understand.”

“Please, don't do this. C'mon, guys. Think this through.”

Smiling despite the tears, you take a deep breath. “I love you. All of you, guys. Tell them.”

“Promise me you'll look after them, huh?” Eddie speaks, and you look at him with teary eyes. “Tell them I'm doing this for Chrissy. And for Billy. And for everyone who died for this town.” With that, he looks down at you, smiling. “What's your plan, freak?”

@ietss @littestatesman @hanahisawizard @aaaaslaaaan @pans-fav-shank @gerim-1995 @what-the-heckin-heck @lady-ragnvindr @slutfor-muson @whiskeypowder @naiswrld @imagineslover88 @carolineesnell @boomhauer @browneyes528 @lem0ns77 @bdudette @thatsamegirl @spicykimchii @vickytorii @witchyhippysstuff

#eddie muson imagine #imagine eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #billy hargrove x you #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove x reader #billy Hargrove imagine

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