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sinisternymphette · 2 days

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everybody loves my baby

an historical au | 1930's florist!reader x dilfgangster!rafe (minors dni)✶

tw: v!olence, sex

✶ gangster!rafe, who makes sure everyone knows that you're off limits. Whether it is by gently placing his hand on the back of your soft neck and slowly caressing it with his calloused knuckles, using one of his large fingers to softly trail down one of your arms while the both of you are sitting next to each other in a restaurant, putting his muscled arm around you like a mantle, giving you warmth and comfort, and even taking your hand in his to plant a kiss on the palm as he closes his eyes and sniffs to take in your scent without the care of what others might think of your intimacy. You were his and he was yours, and that was truly all that mattered.

✶ gangster!rafe, who would do anything to protect you. Literally. If anyone ever laid a hand on his pretty little florist, they'd have to go through him, and it certainly wouldn't end so jolly.

"You dared to touch my woman, hm. Well, not so confident now, are you."

he said in a low, menacing chuckle as he shook his head slowly, cornering the man before him in the lonely and dimly lit corridor behind the bar. He had gone to the washroom for just one minute- one minute without you in his plane on sight, and a man walked over to you and started complimenting you before giving you a rose. That wasn't the problem though. When you thanked him kindly and smelled the rose, he pulled his arm up to brush a strand out of your face. And so, he had to take the matter to his own hands.

"Now now, i'm sure you're a good fella and understand that it was just a minor misunderstanding!"

the man quickly said in a pleading tone, obvious fear in his wide eyes, which were easily comparable to a frightened doe's, before proceeding to pat Rafe's shoulder with one of his shaking hands- almost as if they were old friends. Rafe shook his hand away in a swift motion, as if he had just been touched by a rat who had come out off a trash can. He punched the man on his ribcafe after his fake of a charming smile vanished and turned into a dark frown as if he was no longer who he was before. His other hand reached to the other's mouth as the man made muffled yowls of pain. He, however, didn't even flinch once.

"You're damn lucky i'm a generous man, so make sure to take this as a lesson for the future, yes? to keep your hands to yourself? wouldn't want to cut all your fingers off and make a mess on my shirt."

he then smirked almost playfully, his expression once again changing in a matter of seconds before moving his hand up and shaking it, then putting it inside the pockets of his brown pants and using the other in order to adjust his white, high quality long-sleeved shirt. The man was now practically on the floor, whimpering as he crouched against the stone wall behind him as he shamefully covered his face with his shaking hands. It was truly an embarrassing sight. Once Rafe was finished, he turned his back and opened the back door to the bar, tilting his head to the side and staring at him one last time.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to more important matters- the wonderful evening I was having with her before you, very rudly I might say, abruptly interfered."

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes giving you nicknames that represent your beauty such as 'dollface', 'peach', and his personal favorite, 'dandelion'. You absolutely adore them too- the way they always roll off his tongue so sweetly, like butter being spread on a slice of bread. He's a man who admires and cares for your body, your mind and very being as if you were a princess or a delicate porcelain vase with beautiful painted flowers.

"Look at you, m' pretty dandelion all dolled up for me." he murmurs as he carefully places his head over your shoulder, blue orbs looking into your eyes through the mirror of your bedroom while his hands found your waist and gently nestled around it. His lips were slightly curved upwards, making the hint of his smile shown to you. One of his fingers traced small circles on your waist, making you let out a small and flustered chuckle as you covered your mouth with one of your hands in a polite manner to hide it. You were wearing one of your newer dresses- a pretty light blue polka-dotted dress that perfectly hugged your figure. This, was one of the many dresses Rafe gifted you in the past two weeks. Your lips had red tint and your cheeks had a faint pink color on them- a little bit of makeup, but not too much. His eyes trailed down, all the way to the contour of your legs and to the white leathered heels you were wearing. in his eyes, you truly were a work of art- like a Renaissance painting that had come to life. Now, he was a man that firmly believed that actions spoke more than words, so as soon as his eyes met with yours once again, he planted sweet kisses on your neck alongside little nibbles. This, was his own way of letting you know that you looked absolutely stunning.

✶ gangster!rafe, who, despite having so much blood on his hands, is always careful with you and tries to avoid showing you his darker side as much as he can. Who doesn't want you to know all the sins he has done, all the people he had killed before, in fear of loosing you forever.

''Y'know how much I care about you, right kid?'' he asks after taking a long drag from his cigarette, voice almost a whisper as he's sitting on the sofa of your living room while you laid next to him, head resting on the armrest and legs over his lap while his free hand slowly massages one of your bare feet. He stared at you, blinking slowly. The sudden of a question made you open your once closed eyes and perk your head up to look up at him with an innocent, confused stare. ''Well, certainly. I always have.'' you replied softly, giving him a reassuring smile before it vanished as soon as it appeared. You sensed that something was wrong. After all, why else would he ask this? ''Why do you ask?'' you continued, now scanning the expression on his face, despite the fact that he was a very hard man to read. He swallowed, but maintained eye contact. ''Nothin'. Just wanted to let you know how much I love you all over again.'' He knew he shouldn't lie to you- that he should tell you the truth about where all his money comes from, how his family got as powerful as it is, what kind of person he actually is. But it was too dangerous. Luckily for him, he was a good liar, an actor- if you may call it that. He grabbed the foot he was massaging and placed it near his lips before he kissed each one of your fingers in a slow, sensual manner. This made you relax and soon enough, you were resting once again, breathing calmly as you felt safe in his presence.

✶ gangster!rafe, who tries to stop by the flower shop every single day to say hello. No matter how busy he was, how much trouble he had gotten himself into, what kind of business he was doing that day, he never forgot about you. Ever.

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes to take you back to where the both of you had first met every once in a while. The place, in question, is les deus magots.

✶ gangster!rafe, who might be rough between the sheets, but is as gentle as he can be afterwards and makes your comfort his prime priority.

you let out quiet mews as he pounded into you, you legs wrapped around his hips as your plush breasts jiggled up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. Your plump lips remained parted as you felt out of breath, feeling an intense flutter in your tummy that only got stronger as his movements picked up a speed. It felt so good- too good, in fact. You couldn't help but let out some tears that started to run down your cheeks, eyes closed shut as you listened to his grunts. The bed was shaking, making the crackling sound echo through the bedroom.

''There you go, shhh, you're okay.'' he whispers soothingly as he plants a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, both of you laying inside the warm bathtub. There were scented candles on the bathroom countertops, The lights on the pastel green walls turned off in order to enhance the ambiance of the room. Your muscles finally relaxed, and you felt yourself slowly start drifting into sleep while one of Rafe's hands massaged your shoulders. He seems content, blue eyes full of emotion as he looks down at you, hot breath against your neck and tiny droplets of water landing on your back from his wet and messy hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who lets you spend his money on whatever you want, no matter what. All you have to do is ask, and he'll give you some cash- no questions asked.

✶ gangster!rafe, who loves the way your eyes brighten up whenever you're at the park and you find a pretty flower. Who later takes it from your little hands and places it on your hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who gifted you a puppy one day as a surprise .

''So, I got you a little something.'' he tells you while he held in front of you a rather large red box with a big white bow around it between his arms. His tone was blunt, his expression the same as always, yet he was lightly tapping his foot against the wooden floor of your home. You were confused, to say the least, But of course- you accepted it, quickly taking it from his hands- perfectly manicured nails gripping it tightly. It was heavy- very heavy. ''Oh! I wonder what it could be!!'' you said almost in a lyrical shriek, excitement in your voice as you sat down on your sofa, legs crossed while you placed it right next to you. Suddenly, it moved, and your widening eyes drifted from the package to Rafe. ''No...no.. gosh, Rafe don't tell me it's what I think it is'' you murmured, placing your hands over your mouth. You were met with silence. Of course he didn't answer. Instead, he just tilted his head, almost as if he was attempting to hide the sly grin that was beginning to form on his lips. Not being able to control your excitement any longer, you carefully opened the box, taking the upper part away and revealing what was inside. You gasped, and your pretty shrieks of happiness filled the room. Rafe Cameron had gifted you a cocker spaniel puppy. A real puppy- not a plushie. ''Oh my goodness.. oh my goodness! oh wow- I have no words!'' you ran up to him and hugged him tightly- maybe a little too much. The puppy trotted towards the both of you and barked happily. ''Glad to be makin' you happy, peach'' he said before gently taking your chin in his hand to make you look up at him before kissing you on the lips.

✶ gangster!rafe, who wouldn't admit it out loud, but sometimes thinks that maybe.. you really are 'the one' for him...

✶ a/n : GUYS GUYS I DID IT!! I know this is a bit short, but tbh.. I might write more about gangster!rafe in the future :) if anyone wants to request something with him you can feel free to do so too. I tried to include a little smut, but eh.. this was my first ever fic (if you could even call this a fic) so it's probably a bit...meh. Either way, I'm glad I finally finished it, and I hope it was enjoyable to read!!

✶ creds : @amariisflossy for the gangster!rafe idea, @dollywons for the second header

@sinisternymphette 2024

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rey-129-fan · 1 day

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Gotham-Amity Co-op AU

Part 1

Wow, okay, people seem to really like this. Awesome! Whelp, here's part 2!

“Alright, order. Order.”

“Yeah, I’ll take a Triple Nasty with cheese, extra mustard and pickles.” Laughs rang out at Dash’s remark as everyone settled in to their seats. Sam, who stood at the front of the room by a blackboard, just gave the quarterback a flat look while Danny and Tucker snickered at the teacher’s desk. The group was meeting in an empty classroom at Casper since most were still Casper students, at least for another couple of months until graduation. Jazz and Kyle, both of whom were attending school in Gotham, were dropping in to visit and attend the meeting.

“We are now beginning the first meeting for the Green Amity Co-o-”

“Oh, we are not calling it that!” Paulina cried out. Sam’s eye twitched and started to glow slightly as those around the Latina nodded in agreement.

Jazz quickly stepped in. “While naming something Green in a city that has a known meta Eco-terrorist might not be a good idea, we can discuss names later. For now, let’s focus on more important matters for the co-op.”

“Right,” Sam sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders. “So has everyone had a chance to look over the info and pictures Jazz and Kyle were able to gather?” Getting various conformations, the goth nodded. “Does anyone have any objections on using the building as a Gotham based co-op?”

“Not really.”

“Nope.”

“None from me.”

“Okay, so we’ll put down an offer to buy the building,” Sam nodded before shuffling around some papers in her hands. “Next on the agenda is rent.”

“Won’t we own the building? Why would we need to pay rent?” Dash asked. Kwan nodded while several others in the group just dropped their heads.

“Because we need to pay for things like utilities and taxes,” Valarie shot back, arms crossed as she stared down her former friend group.

“Not to mention that we should collect some money for potential repairs that will be needed in the future,” Wes added, nodding. Dash turned and glared at both of them.

“As Val and Wes said, we may own the building, but we still need to gather money to pay for things like water, electricity, internet. Things needed to make the building usable,” Jazz explained in a less condescending tone, mullifying the blond.

“So we need to figure out how much each utility is and split it between everyone, with a little extra on top to make a fund for repairs?” Danny clarified.

“That is a start, but some people will use more of some things than others.”

“Well, we can always start with it and adjust as we get a better idea of how much it costs and who uses up what amount,” Star said as she stood up and walked over to the board. She picked up a piece of chalk and began writing down numbers. “Do we know how much we have to pay for property tax? From what I could find on the internet, the average cost of utilities in Gotham is about $118 a month, give or take.”

“That lines up with what I saw too, though that doesn’t include internet or phone plans,” Val nodded.

“Well, our phone plans aren’t likely to change, so we don’t need to worry about that. Most internet plans start about $40 a month,” Tucker added. Star nodded and added the 40.

“As for property taxes, given the building’s estimated amount, it would be about $15,900 a year, which is paid quarterly.”

Star continued writing. “So 15,900 a year is 1325 a month. We currently have 11 people, so that’d be 120.45 per person per month just in taxes.”

“So utilities plus internet and taxes would put us at about $242 a month.”

“Don’t forget insurance and repairs. Gotham isn’t the safest place, what with all the supervillains,” Danny added.

“Never mind random ghosts dropping in just to fight Fenton. We’re probably going to have to repair the place more often than the average,” Kwan nodded.

“Hey! Don’t pin the property damage from ghost fights on me! It’s mostly the GIW doing that!”

“We know, Danny, but you can’t deny that there are going to be at least a few ghosts that will come just to fight, and the GIW are likely to follow them.” Danny crossed his arms and grumbled, but conceded.

“We should just double the amount we have for now. That way we can cover the basics and have enough to cover anything that could come up, while most can afford it with a part-time job,” Tucker suggested.

“It’s a start,” Jazz agreed.

“And if we need to adjust it, we can always discuss it again,”Mikey pointed out.

“Alright, so all in favor of starting rent at $485 a month, raise your hand.” Sam counted the hands in the air. Eleven. “Very well. Up Next: rules.”

“Oh come on! We’re no longer kids and are going to college! Why would you wanna create rules?!” Dash protested.

“Just because we’re adults now doesn’t mean that there aren’t still rules we have to follow,” Jazz responded. “Pretty much any place you could live would have quiet hours and cleanliness requirements. Plus I’m pretty sure there are places or things that you wouldn’t want others to mess with.” More grumbling was heard but no more protests. “Now, from what I’ve observed and read on the internet, in general quiet hours are generally between 10-11 pm to about 8 am during the week, with it rolling back an hour on the weekends. I don’t need it to be that strict, but I would like to have some quiet by the time I’m going to sleep.”

“What exactly do quiet hours entail? Is it like a curfew?” Mikey asked, pushing up his glasses and looking at the two actual college students.

“Nah man, they’re just the hours you have to be quiet for. Ya can do whatever ya want, so long as yer not disturbing anyone or keeping them up. Just don’t do anything that’ll get the cops or Bats on ya, and yer good,” Kyle explained.

“Sweet!”

“So what should these quiet hours be? Not going to lie, but midnight seems like a good start, especially if you have early morning classes,” Wes spoke up.

“Midnight is good for me.”

“Aw, but what if we want to have a party!”

“Well, if you start at 8, that gives you four hours,” Sam explained, raising her eyebrow.

“A 4 hour party seems to be enough, especially since not all of us would want to have a crazy party outside our door all night,” Val stated, glaring at Dash and Paulina.

“It seems common consensus is quiet by midnight. What about when they end?”

“Well, most of us will likely have classes starting by 9. Including travel time and getting ready, we’re likely to be up around 8 or so. That’d give us 8 hours of quiet to study and fall asleep.”

“So midnight to 8 am for quiet hours? Any objections?” None were made.

The meeting continued on in much the same way, with only a few protests to some rules, mostly related to shared chores and the creation of a chore schedule. But these protests were quickly silenced by a glare from Valarie that slowly glowed a slight red the more protests were made.

“Alright, I think we’ve covered everything we set out for today’s meeting,” Jazz said, tapping some papers against the desk she sat at. She took over the meeting as Sam grew more annoyed. The goth was now sitting between Danny and Tucker, who were both offering small touches of comfort. “Remember, if you have any questions, share them in the discord server. And if you have any suggestions for a name, please feel free to send them to Wes, who will compile them into a poll so we can vote on them in a week. Now, would anyone like to add anything else?”

A few mutters and shakes were the answer.

“Very well, that concludes this meeting. Hope everyone has a good summer, and when we next meet, hopefully, it should be in our new building.”

***

Did I seriously just write 1363 more words of set up? Yes, yes I did. I have no regrets. We should be in Gotham starting next chapter and get up to the shenanigans then.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there! I started writing this while I was baking a pie for my own mother.

I am going back and forth on whether Phantom Planet is canon or not, but either way, all of Amity Park knows about Danny in this, but not the outside world, and especially not the GIW. While I do read a lot of bad parent Maddie and Jack, I much prefer to have them as good parents that love and accept both Danny and his little clone/cousin/sister.

Sorry guys, but Bruce is not adopting either Phantom.

Again, feel free to leave suggestions for names for the Co-op, as well as for this little AU itself. Also, suggestions for shenanigans and powers our liminal teens might have outside just glowing eyes.

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angy-grrr · 3 days

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Idk if i'm just crazy but i noticed that there is a pattern with something that Uraraka does, is punctuated immediately after something Katsuki did before to Izuku and vice versa. I feel like this somehow highlights a difference between their intention and meaning for him. Like i'm sure this might be just a big coincidence but still.

well who knows really! The first thing that comes to mind to me is how Ochako helped Deku when he fell at the beginning, by being on the side/ behind him and using her quirk to avoid it, and Katsuki holding him facing each other, running to get to him faster than the rest -including Iida, whose quirk is literally about that!

But also the whole Deku thing; personally, because the author admitted he didnt intent to have Katsuki as a positive part of Izuku's life at first, I believe the reason for these introductions was clear: Bekugou, his childhood friend, opposes him and creates "Deku" as an insult to put him down, and will always mean that to him, while Ochako, a new friend he meets when starting his hero school, changes it creating something new and fresh so Izuku can have a motivation.

Non supporting VS Supporting. Out of his life VS In his life. Old VS New. Hopelessness VS Hope. Static VS Change.

You name it.

But then the author changes his mind, and Katsuki isn't just the rival anymore, and all of the sudden "Deku" has many layers; "Deku" also means the one that does his best alone, isolated and overworked, and even tho apparently this has shifted since the current chapters...

Slight manga spoilers, not too much tho (I guess??):

idk, Izuku still was ready to get up alone and fight if Aizawa didnt stop him to give him the T-shirt and remind him they are there. He was running alone, and others have to go to him (in this case, Iida) in order to help him, because he is still not asking for help at all.

It has been brought up again, the meaning Ochako gave it, and im not 100% sure if this is her remembering, Izuku, or the three of them -probably the last one? Iida seems to understand now what Ochako meant back then, and they see it in a positive light (which was the intention!), but for Izuku doing the best can mean many things. What's the best he can do? Act like All Might was his first answer, but that didn't work. Saving others? He knows heroes should do this, but with how unclear things are I dont know if he is aware the class would support his decision of saving a villain -after all, as far as we know, he doesn't tell anyone because he wants to share it with someone, but because someone else admitted it first.

Uraraka confessed that first, and showed that vulnerability without knowing how he could react [and honestly, it looked in that moment like she was mainly expressing herself outloud], and after that he ended up also sharing a similar feeling he had about villains and saving. What I mean is that he doesn't say shit unless someone else was vulnerable first.

Ochako wasn't going out to talk to anyone about it either, lets get that straight, but when she was asked by one of her best friends she lets herself be at least a little; she saw Izuku meant something "slightly" different than her, so she doesnt tell him how she envied her genuine smile, her freedom to be herself, love who she loves, or how she thought she was actually cute. She knew it was better to not talk about that because he had no interest in that, so she keeps it to herself knowing she will fight to make sure Himiko hears her this whole thing would be a part of the izuku and ochako meta kjfskjflajflksja

This happened too with Katsuki during their second fight; after Katsuki was emotional and falling apart, confessing such intimate and sad emotions with him, that's when Izuku couldn't help himself and ended up also putting his guard down. And still, he held back a crucial part -he didnt say he acts like him without even trying, and even tho everyone would see it as nasty and bad, he can't hate those things, those parts oh himself, because they are parts of Katsuki, his symbol of victory, what he sees as the best form of heroism. Despite Katsuki explaining he's confused and insecure over his main theme -victory-, and worries about it being not only unworthy but also the reason their idol "ended"... He held back.

He lost because of that.

Its interesting the contrast between those two scenes in terms of emotional vulnerability and reactions, before a war ochako and izuku are much calmer and distant than katsuki and izuku after getting back from a successful rescue. In the first case nothing actually changed between them -im not talking about the nature of the relationship but just the general apparent feelings and status. They are friends who share ideals and common interest before and after the talk, and the only one who was more reflective about it was Ochako who prefers to discuss it with Himiko than him -its more about them anyways. Izuku stays the same, as far as we know, because he thinks she also "just"* felt empathy for someone that was sad and alone, and we can't see this affecting him or shifting something between them.

His emotional moments with Katsuki? They do change everything every time -when he said he was going to be a hero, when they start to get closer, after the war "Deku" becoming "izuku", embracing what makes the other great, etc.

*Its a huge deal and really important, im not trying to minimize his motivations or ideas, just point out how their feelings and conflicts are different and similar -at this point we don't see Midoriya admiring Shigaraki in any way thru this whole story. The manga hasn't ended and he is unreliable, so maybe im wrong and he admires qualities about him he learns later on, but right now for me Izuku wants to bring him support because he is a human and nobody should get treated like he was.

Ochako and Katsuki also have different roles in his rescue, with him bringing him back to them and her showing everyone he is a boy that needs help. Izuku was moved by both actions, and thanks to Uraraka he gets to the shelter.

Their fight was also interesting! Ochako was thinking about winning this, yet she tried to follow Izuku's ideas and lost after trying something way too risky for her, because she ended up ignoring her own judgement and limits out of insecurity and admiration; when Katsuki tries to use his strategies in the wars tho, he is able to achieve what he wanted -he saves Izuku from getting stabbed, saves All Might from getting crushed by AFO, before dying he gets to weaken some parts of Shigaraki's body for the rest to use, etc.

Its not that he loses himself, he just tries something new that works for him, and im happy Ochako ended up realizing she needs to keep in mind what she needs and wants when taking inspiration from Midoriya. Even if similar, their feelings for "their" villains are different, and that's okay.

Katsuki now doesnt call him Deku unless he refers to his hero name, and prefers to use his first name while Ochako keeps using Deku-kun when talking to him or says directly his full name like in her talk with Himiko where she explains some parts of her life.

Even if "Deku" comes from "Izuku", the latter is closer, new for them, a little challenging at times, and shows respect, recognition and reaffirms his humanity over his heroism. "Deku-kun" sounds like "you can do it", a supportive name that comes from a misunderstanding from the beginning, and keeps getting used as she hasn't change her perspective about him in that way. He is still Deku-kun to her, but now Izuku to him.

Change VS Static.

Huh, I wonder where that came from.

#bakudeku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk #decchan #grrr talking #im not tagging it as spoilers as I believe its pretty vague in comparison to other things #but yk #just keep that in mind #i have no idea how vague it is tho #this is way too long lmao #why am I like this

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laroinda · 1 day

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i just caught up to wind breaker manga (the satoru nii one) and i desperately need to rant abt it

let's start from the fact that i'm not a fan of this genre of manga. the only other delinquent series i've actually read was t*kyo r*vengers but we shall not speak about this one and it certainly didn't leave a good impression of this type of manga on me. so imagine my surprise when i tuned in to the first episode of wind breaker and i found myself tearing up by the end of it, let's just say that it was quite unexpected.

the thing that surprised me the most about this series is the heart that it has. yes it's cheesy, yes it's cringe at times, yes the premise of the town and the school is so silly it might just fall apart if you start looking at it too closely. but the series manages to build the sense of community within this place so fast and so well that i never actually found myself questioning any of that.

another thing that was a really nice surprise was how kind the series is, both with its characters and with the themes it builds itself on. the main one of course being opening yourself up and learning how to trust others. every time we see a character struggle with that it tugs at my heartstrings so much i end up barely able to read the chapter cause my eyes water immediately, especially when it's about sakura himself.

sakura, oh my dear sakura. i could sing him praises for hours i fear so i'll try to keep it short. he's just incredible. he's truly the heart of the story in every sense of the word. he's so kind! he's such a good person, even if he doesn't believe it or doesn't know how to properly express his care for others! he's so lovable from the start, even before you see him grow into the person he is at the current stage of the manga. and he keeps growing and changing and becoming the person he probably never thought he could ever become before he came to furin. and it's all because of the people around him that accept him and let him grow at his pace, even if he makes mistakes or doesn't do things exactly right immediately.

i love the slightly more recent imagery of comparing him to a plant that started to grow since he joined furin. it started in the stretch between the keel arc and the red lights district arc when he decided that furin is the place that he belongs in and we saw a little sprout, but i feel like it's gonna come to full fruition in this arc. it's pretty clear to me considering that endo literally compares him to a flower and his whole thing is to try and set sakura on fire (metaphorically of course... i hope). it's probably gonna be contrasted to umemiya who's literally a gardener and under whose care and leadership, directly or not, sakura was finally able to grow because he was nurtured by those around him. in this case the main person who allowed that to happen would be umemiya as he's the one who made furin into what it is now. also, i've seen quite a lot of people be worried (?) about sakura potentially going with endo to protect furin but idk man i don't think that would happen. the angst potential is incredible but he was literally calling out that girl in the red lights arc (i'm sorry i forgot her name, it slipped my mind cause i've read like 90% of this manga in two days) for... basically doing just that. giving herself up so that others could be safe without thinking about their feelings. i feel like he's probably gonna take that lesson and apply it here.

speaking of which, i love this whole theme of passing down knowledge and advice on how to handle things that are new to you. first it's kotoha telling sakura that he needs allies to be at the top of furin, that he should start facing people that want to be there for him and even the small things like telling him to just say "leave it to me" when someone asks for help. and then, in the keel arc, he uses the same advice he was given before and gives it to someone else who's also struggling with quite similiar things to him. then there's him learning how to rely on other boys in his class and going to kaji for advice, who's very clearly meant to be kind of a parallel to sakura. kaji's went to somewhat similiar things, he's just further down the path of figuring out who he is, what he can and can't do that sakura is (or at least that was the case when they talked). so he gives sakura advice, one that was given to him before by hiragi when he was struggling as a newly made grade captain who felt like he was wholly undeserving of the trust that people placed in him and felt like he's gonna dissapoint them. he knows exactly what sakura is struggling with so he can help him the way he was helped before, the same way that sakura helped nagato before.

i have a lot more thoughts about this series but they are not sorted out in my brain in any way yet so i'm not gonna say anything more cause this on its own is messy as hell

#wind breaker #sakura haruka #satoru nii #hajime umemiya #kaji ren #i have so many thought abt this series #but i cant express them properly yet #so im just yapping #and thats not even all #like i havent even mentioned tsubaki #or nirei #or togame

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aethergazing · 2 months

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did a little eva redesign bc she needed the circles under her eyes and the idea that she's always planning something

#pls don't reblog just wanted to show her #there are no dark circles m`*d which would have been more perfect but this will do #i might change her personality slightly as well #i want her to be more of the scions dog of war #maybe make her personality closer to adam's and icarus #bc she was too different from her counterparts #rambles.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 14 days

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accused (part two)

words: 1k

warnings: established relationship, accusations of stealing, protective!rafe (hes such a good boyfriend <3)

followed (part one) / accused (part two)

“hi.” you smile, cheeks slightly blushed.

“hello, beautiful.” rafe doesn't give you time to be nervous, pulling you into a hug.

you relax into his hold, taking a deep inhale and exhale as your cheek rests against his chest, remembering the solace you found in his arms when you needed it most.

“excited?” rafe asks.

“we are just getting ice cream together.” you giggle.

“yeah, sure.” rafe joins in your laughter, loving the way it sounds in his ears. “but it's an ice cream date.”

“does that mean you're gonna kiss me goodnight?” you look at the rapidly setting sun.

“of course.” rafe loops your hands together, guiding you towards the line to order.

-- 6 months later --

“missed you.” you wrap your arms around rafes shoulders, pulling him down into a strong kiss.

“missed you too, baby.” rafe doesn't point out that it's only been a couple days, having to spend the weekend apart as you were out of town with your parents.

“what are your plans?” rafe asks, hands gently massaging up and down your back.

“hanging out with you all day-”

“and night.” rafe interrupts you, smirking.

“anyways, then shopping with the girls tomorrow. we might also go out for dinner.” you shrug.

“sounds fun.” rafe nods. “just staying on the island though, right?” rafe knows you usually like to go inland or up the coast to shop, but that's usually a longer planned trip.

“mhm. just gonna hit all those little boutiques.” you shake your head, “but i dont wanna talk about tomorrows plans.”

“what do you wanna talk about then, sweetheart?” rafe asks.

“don't wanna talk.” you admit shyly. “just wanna kiss you.”

rafe bends down, lifting you up with large hands under his thighs, rushing up the stairs. “we can definitely do that, baby.

“that looks so cute on you!” you squeal, grabbing your friend giannas hand and pulling her over to the mirror.

“i love it!” she gushes before checking the pricetag. “only $85, im absolutely buying it.”

“oh, girl that's a steal!” you nod.

“it's not like you don't have rafes credit card.” tina rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face to convey she's not serious.

“he says to buy whatever i want, as long as i give him a fashion show when i get home.” you say as gianna heads back into the changing room to get back into her clothes.

you pull out your phone to text rafe an update as tina does the same to her boyfriend.

hey rafeyyy miss you! shopping is going so well 💕 I think we're gonna hit up like two or three more stores and then ill be home!

alright, princess. have fun. see you real soon ❤️

“can i take some of the dresses?” the voice makes you jump, not even realizing that the shop owner was standing in front of gianna, hand outstretched.

“uh, yeah.” she hands over two of the hangers. “im not getting these two.”

the owner makes a disgruntled face, looking over the other two dresses gianna is still holding. “where's the other dress?”

“what dress?” you interject.

“yeah, she only tried on four.” tina adds.

“well, i saw five go in. you'll have to empty your bag.”

gianna is only wearing a small purse, no way a dress would even fit inside of it, but that's not the point, it's the principle that counts.

“hell no!” you say. “check the security cameras if you want, but we aren't allowing you to search us.”

“really?” the shop keepers eyebrows rise, like she expected you to just bow your head since you're a group of younger girls. “i guess you'll just have to pay for the dress i saw go into the dressing room and didn't come out. its $500.”

you pull out your phone, furiously messaging rafe and sending him your location.

“you messed with the wrong person.” tina shakes her head.

“and here, i don't want these either.” gianna hands the owner the other two dresses, even the one she loved.

“yeah, we will never shop here again.” tina says.

“we don't need thieves like you, anyways!” she grabs the dresses. “just pay for the one you're trying to steal and get out!”

you're sure if she pulled this scam on other people that they'd just get sick of the arguing and pay up, but you're absolutely refusing to play into her little game.

you smile as you hear the door open then slam closed, turning to see rafe with an angry look on his face.

“thank god you're here, rafe. this lady is trying to say we're stealing from her but refuses to watch the security cameras.” you inform him.

“is that so?” rafe looks around the shop.

“rafe…” the shop keeper mumbles, trying to figure out why she knows the name. “you're rafe cameron?”

“yeah.” he crosses his arms. “like cameron development cameron. you know, the ones who own this entire block? including your landlords?” rafe tsks, shaking his head side to side. “i wonder what my dad would say if he knew you were accosting his son's girlfriend.”

“im-im sorry. i think this is all a big misunderstanding.” the owner quickly quoted, rushing away back to the counter.

“gianna, tina, you girls okay?” rafe asks.

“yeah.” tina twirls her hair around her finger, making you give her a quick glare.

“all good, thanks rafe.” gianna nods.

“lets get you girls out of here.” rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the shop.

he presses a kiss to the top of your head once you're outside, leading you a couple steps away from your friends. “want to keep shopping? or are you done?”

“maybe…” you pout your lower lip out and look up at rafe. “maybe you could come with us to the next couple shops?”

rafe can't control the smile that stretches over his cheeks. “id be more than happy to, baby.”

you let out a little squeal, pressing your lips against his cheek. “i hate to say it, but thank god that guy followed me that day. cause i got the best boyfriend ever out of it.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

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noneorother · 1 month

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As a film person, this is the most f*cked up thing that happened in all of Good Omens

Forget about the final 15. If there's anything that should convince you that there's something really wack going on in season 2 of Good Omens it should be this cut. I literally gasped when I saw it for the first time. It's SO BAD from a technical perspective. Because you've probably been watching TV and movies your whole life, you might instinctively feel there's something weird happening with this cut, but not be able to put your finger on what it is.

I am here to tell you: they sacrificed continuity of action to *change the main character of the shot in the middle of the scene*. I won't do a full theory course on filmmaking here, but basically, when you want a fluid-feeling sequence of shots, especially when there's quite a lot of movement on screen, you have to conserve the direction and intention of that action to feel like it's all one take, and time is moving forward like we're used to in real life. Here, Crowley, Maggie and Nina all leave the Bookshop together, with Crowley and Maggie flanking Nina, who is centred in the shot. They are moving towards the camera as the camera is walking backwards, but at a slight curve camera-left. Crowley even turns his head and swings his arm left, making us feel like the camera will keep Nina center, and pan left or even cut wider to see more of the left of the street to watch them cross.

Well SURPRISE, idiots!

Forget everything you learned in film school because we're cutting immediately to a second medium length shot of the 3 characters from a slightly more camera-right perspective for no reason whatsoever, in the *opposite* direction of where the action is going, WHILE THAT ACTOR IS SPEAKING A LINE. This is so counterintuitive to the blocking of the scene that Maggie literally gets shoved out of frame while we're supposed to be reading her reaction to Crowley's dialogue. I can't stress enough how weird it is on a fundamental level. When a camera is moving and a character is talking, conserving continuity of action is THE ONE thing you don't sacrifice. It pulls people out of the moment, and makes it extra obvious that multiple takes have been stitched together. Which leads me to think that this is intentional, and sets up what I hinted to at the beginning of this whole "The More You Know" moment : Nina is the main character of the scene we're watching, until, suddenly, Crowley is. If you separated those two moments before and after the cut and watch them as two different scenes, you can see the camera following Nina and keeping her center before, but directly following Crowley and keeping him center *after* the cut. We've switched narrators in this moment. And to top it all off, they're making it pretty obvious that, while Nina is listening and reacting to both Crowley and Maggie, Crowley does not give a rat's ass about the two humans (not either not really in frame, or cut off behind him).

#good omens 2 #good omens meta #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #good omens #go2 #good omens prime #crowley #anthony j crowley

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celestemona · 3 months

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WHERE KAEDEHARA CLAN RISES UP ONCE AGAIN

a when they're dads au introduction

pairing: dad & husband! kaedehara kazuha x fem! reader

cw: established relationship, you and kazuha are married and have children. original characters. domestic and parenting universe. quick pregnancy mention. slightly ooc to fit the plot. fluff and not beta read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

part i. | part ii.

Considering that Kaedehara Kazuha’ only reputation was his mild personality and free spirit, no one believed that the wandering samurai would one day be able to pause his travels and settle down to a monotonous, homely life.

So you can imagine the surprise that’d be among the fishing and sailing communities throughout Teyvat when they discovered that the white-haired man had not settled down but also married and had children.

Surely it only could be a prank because, after all, was there even a possibility of that happening?

Well, this answer was given by a drunk and laughing Captain Beidou who showed to curious and shocked eyes a photo of his wedding held by the Crux fleet itself on a small and isolated island in Inazuma.

If the residents and locals didn't know her so well they might think the pirate captain was lying. However, looking at the photo closer, the way Kazuha looked at you while you smiled back at him confirmed the undeniable: the man was madly in love with you.

After that, with the help of a few barrels of rum and beer, the story of your love was shared. From you falling from the sky directly (and literally) into the samurai's arms, to the blossoming of your relationship; the ups and downs faced to the marriage proposal, and then the small family's decision to leave the seas to rebuild the Kaedehara Clan together.

Oh, well… Beidou may have let escape one more detail since dozens of wide eyes stared at her in astonishment at this information. However, she was pretty sure Kazuha wouldn't mind if she told them a little bit more about his new life as patriarch of the clan and his greatest prides. You, his wife, and your three children.

The samurai himself didn’t believe that one day he could be so fortunate and blessed to have the opportunity to return to a happy and noisy home. His days as a teenager left him with a deep scar in his heart since his relationship with his father, at first, wasn’t one of the best and therefore staying away from the place that was once his home was the best decision to be made.

Not only had the distance from Inazuma changed his perspective but also an insecurity had blossomed in the back of his mind where he feared that one day he’d make the same mistakes as his father.

Even so, after you entered his life, the only feeling he had when he set foot in the old estate was pure warmth and belonging. Love and serenity that not even his children, while yelling and playing around the mansion, could shake it.

Kiyomi, his middle and only daughter, was, most of the time, responsible for the laughter and noises in the house. Both you and your husband didn't know where she had inherited such an extroverted and mischievous personality, causing you to grow a few strands of gray hair and eliciting genuine laughs from Kazuha. There was no denying that the girl had a temperament as unique as her beauty, which was a mixture between yours and your husband's. And as the only girl in the family it was undeniable to say that Kazuha loved the ground she walked on. Nevertheless, neither you nor your husband would change anything about her, loving and being proud of your daughter the way she is — because if there’s something prettier about Kiyomi was her heart as big as her stubbornness.

Clearly, the affection of the two parents wasn’t limited to just the girl but also extended to the two sons.

Kazumi is your firstborn son and only three years older than Kiyomi. With such a small age difference, some parents would expect there to be a certain amount of rivalry and jealousy between the siblings, but Kazumi was his father's son in both appearance and personality. With such a sneaky smile and a relaxed attitude, he was often mistaken for Kazuha himself — even sharing the same mindset of preferring to go with the flow rather than worry about small, insignificant things. This didn't apply to situations where you or his siblings were in danger, of course. After all, he took the title of older son and brother very seriously.

Shortly before his tenth birthday, Kazumi had learned and inherited the techniques of the Isshin Art which even took Kazuha himself an entire decade to re-learn. Unlike his ancestors, the current patriarch would teach his children the clan's secret technique so that the art would remain alive. Whether his children would dedicate themselves to it or not will depend on each of them.

Kiyomi didn't seem too interested, neither did Kazumi.

You, though, hoped that one of your children would carry the bladesmithing practices forward but you were also happy to see each of your children following their own path. If not even Haruki, your youngest son who was known to be as hungry for knowledge as any sage of Sumeru himself, seemed enchanted by this idea then the Kaedehara Clan must expanding its businesses in other areas.

The youngest Kaedehara was the prodigy and the pride of the entire family. Your third pregnancy was a big surprise in the house but very well welcomed. Kazumi had just turned ten and Kiyomi was awaiting her seventh birthday when the fragile little Haruki arrived into the world on a autumn morning — although, the first few months that followed weren’t very pleasant as your baby's health was poor, leaving both you and Kazuha with your nerves always on edge.

However, with the help of your friends, the traveler, the Crux fleet, and even Yae Miko’s divine blessing, little by little Haruki managed to recover and finally grow up healthily.

Unlike his brothers who always seemed to be somewhere or running around, Haruki preferred to stay at home surrounded by the comfort of his parents' presence or his books. It took little time for you and Kazuha to realize that at a young age he was already reading advanced-level books and scrolls, and was interested in subjects that even adults would find boring. So it was also no surprise either when an invitation to study at Akademiya arrived at your home just before the boy's thirteenth birthday.

Needless to say there was a huge party before his departure to Sumeru where on one side there was you crying at the sudden departure of your son, Kazuha consoling you and a very happy Beidou getting all the guests drunk.

So, yes. If someone asked Kazuha about what he thought of this new life of his, he wouldn't lie when he answered them that it was a very different reality from the one he had projected years ago. There would always be something to worry about, his days were almost the same, rarely leaving the routine, and every now and then the desire to reach new horizons would always call him.

But in the end of the day, he wouldn't trade a second of his life by your side for his old one. Because, after all, he’s already living the biggest adventure of his life with you by his side, and if there’s something that Kazuha was sure of, it'd be that there’s nothing in the world so rewarding as having your company.

a/n: i must confess that i have this plot on my drafts for almost two years now but i’ve never found will enough on myself to sit down and write it. nevertheless, i’m thankful for my mind to remind me of this plot and make me re-write new ideas.

those who knows me, or not, must’ve know that i really do love parenting, domestic and pregnancy universe so not so often i caught myself writing about it. it’s so relaxing and enjoyable to picture these guys as dad idk.

i hope you’ve liked it so far. i would like to share more about this headcanon too in a possible future so let me know if you want to know something more about the kaedehara clan. thank you so much, bye!

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha #dad kazuha #kaedehara clan #genshin dads au

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ddejavvu · 4 months

Note

Omg! I saw that fic you wrote based on friends tv series and i love it! Its so freaking cute!! Reading that fic remind me of another scene of friends tv series if you dont mind writing it?

Where chandler is having a bath and everyone just comes in at one point and start having conversations in the bathroom.

Maybe reader is like the therapist of the group and everyone wants her opinion on smtg and while reader is taking a bath, one by one just starting to enter and start having conversations with her and the rest until one of marauders (reader’s bf) start shooing everyone out so reader could have a peaceful bath?

i changed this a teeny bit, i'm sorry! but i've never seen friends so i think that's okay

"Y/N," Sirius is the first to interrupt your warm bath with James, meant to soothe his sore muscles after Quidditch practice, and lull you to sleep against his chest. Thankfully, James has poured a liberal amount of strawberry bubble bath into the water, so there's foam up to your necks.

"What's'a matter, Pads?" James answers for you while you try clearing the almost-sleep from your brain, but the man scoffs at him.

"Prongs, no offence, but I need help with makeup. And you're the last person in this castle I'd come to for that."

Before James can make an affronted retort, you pipe up, smoothing a soothing hand on James's thigh beneath the bubbles, "What do you need, Sirius?"

"Black or blue liner?" He shows off his outfit, then the two eyeliner pens in his hand.

"Black," You decide with a wrinkled nose, "Blue doesn't match your earrings."

"Thanks," Sirius grins, tossing the blue pen onto the counter and leaving with the black one, "Oh-! Sorry, Rem, go ahead."

Just when you'd been about to settle back against James's chest, Remus steps in, clearly having run into Sirius on the way out. James groans, but Remus incurs less of his wrath than Sirius often does, the price of becoming siblings as well as brothers.

"I left The Nightingale on your bed," Remus informs you, "Can I take Falling Leaves?"

"The smaller one," You nod, "Not the special edition. Sorry, Rem, I know you're careful, but I can't afford a chocolate stain on it."

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but he'll respect your wishes. After all, he's careful in lending out special editions of his books, too.

"Thanks, Y/N!"

"Remus," James calls at the retreating form of his friend, "Do me a favor: close the door behind you!"

Remus does so, and James hooks an arm around your waist beneath the suds. It's warm and slightly pruned, and you sink into it gladly, reclining once more against his bare chest.

"Now that that's over," He gripes, his hand travelling below your waist, fingers hooking into the pudge of your thighs, "We could..."

"Don't even think about it," You pinch his thigh, just above the dome of his kneecap, ignoring his yelp in response, "This bath is to fix your sore muscles, not make new ones."

"I'm fine," James insists, burrowing his nose into the nape of your neck where fine droplets of water cling to your wispy hairs, "Please, darling, I swear I can-"

"Y/N?" Lily calls, the sweet tone of her voice matching the strawberry scent heavy in the air, "I know you're bathing, I'm sorry, but it'll only take a moment."

James holds his breath, but you use yours to call, "Come in, Lily," And he releases his in a scoff, fingers finally abandoning your thigh.

"I was just wondering if I could borrow your green sweater," Lily hums, politely avoiding any eye contact with James's muscled shoulders as he drapes his arms over the sides of the bathtub.

"G'head, babe," You smile sweetly at her, "You going to Hogsmeade?"

"The whole dorm is," She nods excitedly, "You wanna join?"

You consider it despite James's hand plunging back into the water and latching tight to your hip. Finally you decide, "No, but I might end up joining you if James can't learn to keep his hands to himself."

"Hey!" He tears his hand away from you once more, spilling water over the side of the tub when he finds purchase against the edge, "If you keep letting people barge in here, we won't be able to do anything anyways."

"Excellent point," You nod thoughtfully, and James's exasperated groan brings a smile to Lily's face that she shares giddily with you, "Lily, if you happen to see Professor McGonagall on your way over, send her in."

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

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stylesharrys · 17 days

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special smokes [weedrry]

summary: harry and y/n struggle with their self-control after sharing a joint at niall’s house party.

word count: 3,774

warnings: mentions and consumption of marijuana (smoking a joint) and alcohol, smut; kissing, teasing, swearing, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, light spanking

a/n: at first i had no intention of following up on weedrry and y/n but so many requested it and the more i considered it, the more ideas i kept getting hehe. they’re probably one of my favourite couples to write at this point and i have some other ideas in the woodwork for them aswell!! this is technically part two of special brownies but it can also be read as a standalone :) anyway, i hope you enjoy darlings and happy belated 420 hehe <3

They promised to never talk about it again. But that didn’t stop either of them lying in bed at night, reminiscing how each other tasted. It didn’t stop Harry from thinking about his roommate as he touched himself in the shower and painted the tiles with his come. Just like it didn’t stop Y/N from pretending her thick dildo was Harry’s cock when she got herself off at three in the morning.

Neither of them was aware of the other's shenanigans. Harry thought Y/N was too embarrassed to think about it and Y/N thought Harry just forgot. Of course, Tom’s none the wiser to anything that’s happened. Even living with the two, he’s yet to notice that slight shift in the atmosphere – that tension that seems to follow wherever they go together.

And tonight is no different. They’re both slightly turned on at the thought of one another as they sit huddled around the fire in Niall’s garden. He’s one of the few friends who was sensible enough to apply for a house rather than an apartment, and Harry is always sure to reap the benefits of it.

It’s nearly ten o’clock and the house party Niall threw for his birthday is in full swing. Y/N recognises a few faces, not nearly as many as Harry (who’s known to have been a bit of a serial dater in the past), but it doesn’t change her mood in the slightest.

She’s been perched on a sun lounger for the past forty-five minutes, five drinks in and slowly starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol. She promised herself she wouldn’t drink too heavily tonight – not when she knows how sleepy she gets with alcohol. She doesn’t want to be found passed out on some random person's bed that Niall houseshares with.

Harry’s been sporting the same beer for the past half an hour. Much like Y/N, he also wasn’t really in the mood to get shitfaced, despite it being his best friend's birthday. He has a job interview tomorrow afternoon and he cannot deal with cradling a hangover at the same time.

His eyes have been on her body most of the night. Despite living together, he’s hardly seen Y/N at home in the past two weeks since… well… you know. At first, he thought she was just busy, but now he’s starting to get the idea that she’s avoiding him.

Harry’s sure it’s down to embarrassment, and as much as he wants his friend back, he promised he wouldn’t bring it up again. He doesn’t want to embarrass Y/N any further. It hurts his ego a little bit if he’s honest. Harry struggles to understand if she’s embarrassed she slept with her friend, or if she’s embarrassed because she slept with him.

If he pulled his head out of his ass, he might realise that it’s the former. Mostly. Because the other half of what she’s feeling is pure lust. Y/N struggles to even look at Harry the same since they hooked up two weeks ago. When she looks at him, all she sees is him naked – so she’s certain he sees the same when he looks at her.

She takes another swig of her drink in an attempt to drown the groan that tries to escape. God, it’s criminal how even just the thought of him naked manages to get her worked up like this. He’s her friend for crying out loud. She needs to get her thoughts in order.

Harry’s telling himself the same thing. Struggling to think of anything other than kissing up her smooth, exposed thighs and burying his head under her little sundress right there, in front of everyone to see. His cock stiffens slightly in his pants and he shifts a little in his chair – as discretely as he can.

“Who’s up for a round of spin the bottle!”

The group in the garden chant a groan in unison at Niall’s suggestion. “We’re not fifteen, Ni… nobody wants to play spin the bottle.” Alfie pipes up from his crisscrossed position on the patio floor.

Niall rolls his eyes and places an empty wine bottle in the middle of the group anyway. Involuntarily, everyone begins to form a circle around it, knees knocking as they do. Y/N remains on the deck chair, pulling the back up so she sits upright like Harry who’s still opposite her.

Niall gets comfortable on the ground, his eyes alight like a kid on Christmas. He’s about to take his turn when he furrows his brows and begins to pat down his pockets like he’s forgotten something.

“Anybody got a smoke?”

“Nah,” Jessie calls back, “I’ve got a couple of joints, though.”

Harry and Y/N’s eyes find one another as their bodies grow paralysed at the mention of the one thing that got them in this situation in the first place.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Oooh,” Niall grins, “Jessie’s got the special smokes… come on then, lad. Light ‘em up and pass ‘em around.”

Y/N’s heart begins to thump against her ribcage as she tears her gaze away from Harry’s. There’s no way in Hell this is happening right now. She tells herself to calm down, that she doesn’t have to have a pull of the joint.

But as it makes its way around the circle until it’s between her fingers, she finds herself taking a long, deep drag of it anyway. It burns the back of her throat, as weed always has, but she holds it for as long as she can before slowly exhaling and passing it back down to Niall who sits in front of her.

When she lifts her gaze, her eyes lock on Harry’s. There’s a shit-eating grin on his face as he holds the second joint between his fingers – like he knows they’re going to end up in the same situation as last time and he’s more than okay with that. Harry takes a drag just as Y/N had and passes it off to Genevieve next to him.

Harry manages to hold it in longer than Y/N can and he keeps his eyes locked on hers when he slowly exhales. When the joint makes its way back to Y/N and she’s taking her second pull, she’s giving in to all the dirty thoughts in her head. Her wicked smirk matches Harry’s now and the game of spin the bottle begins.

Niall starts first, landing on Genevieve who he kisses quite happily. Gen spins and lands on Jessie. Then when Jessie spins, he lands on… Y/N.

Her eyes are quick to flicker between him and Harry as she registers the situation. There’s a third and fourth joint passing through the group and for a moment, she’s too stoned to realise what’s going on.

There’s a look on Harry’s face, though – an unamused one. His jaw is set tightly and his brows are gently pinched as he watches Jessie approach Y/N with a lopsided grin. He doesn’t understand why anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. And Y/N doesn’t understand why she feels so weird about being kissed by someone else in front of him.

But she welcomes Jessie’s lips against hers anyway. It’s soft, gentle. He’s not a bad kisser, but after a few seconds, he pulls away and hands her the joint before returning to his seat. She looks to Harry again with pursed lips and he’s chewing at the inside of his cheek.

Y/N takes another pull for the joint and reaches for the bottle when Niall’s hand on hers stops her.

“I have an idea to make this more interesting.”

She looks at him, eyebrow raised.

“You have to hook up with the person it lands on.”

Her eyes widen and a laugh rumbles from her chest. “Niall, you can’t make me hook up with anyone. That’s not how this game works. You’re not fucking Cupid.”

Niall frowns, displeased by her attitude. He crosses his arms over his chest and pinches the joint from her fingers, huffing. “Fine.”

Y/N spins the bottle, leaning back as she watches it rotate until it lands on Harry. His eyes are on hers, hungry. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat, stepping between people as she approaches him.

Harry cranes his head up, still not entirely happy that she kissed Jessie, but he welcomes her mouth on his instantly. They’re lustful, almost forgetting their surroundings as Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She’s about to do the same, to tangle her fingers in his hair when whistling and cheering breaks them apart.

They’re both incredibly flushed and hot as Y/N moves back to her seat, licking over her bottom lip for another distant taste of him. Harry’s no better, his cock beginning to swell. He clears his throat and leans down to take his turn.

There’s a resounding gasp as it lands on Y/N and they're forced to kiss again, this time Harry approaching Y/N and kissing her a little hungrier. When she spins her turn, it lands back on Harry and the group is growing both tired and a little suspicious of the game.

It gets harder and harder for them to keep their hands to themselves. The stolen kisses feed the fire in their bellies and Niall is quick to call off the game and suggest some truth or dare instead, like the fifteen-year-old he seems to be.

Both Y/N and Harry hardly listen to the game unfold. Both are too stoned and lust-filled to pay attention to anything. They’re stealing glances from across the circle, sharing knowing looks that they’re both desperate to escape everyone else and hide away together somewhere.

It goes on like this for another ten minutes and pinching the joint from Niall’s hand, Harry takes initiative and stands from his chair. “Y/N, shall we go and sort out Ni’s present now?”

He’s got a brow raised expectantly and her eyes widen at his little fib. They both miss the way Niall looks between them with a beaming smile full of excitement.

“You’s got me a present?”

Y/N blinks, finally looking at her friend. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, we completely forgot. Do you mind if we get it sorted? It’s not quite finished yet.” She lies through her teeth.

Harry’s smirk grows tenfold at the way she plays along with the little game and Niall nods his head.

“Thanks, Ni,” Harry says kindly, voice a bit condescending but Niall’s too stoned to notice. “Do you mind if I smoke this in the house?”

Niall waves his hand dismissively. “I don’t care, I do it all the time.”

Harry looks back to Y/N, tilting his head to the door with a smirk. She follows him inside, giddy with lust and anticipation. He takes her hand in his, guiding her as he weaves through other party-goers until they reach the stairs. It’s a little quieter when they reach the top, Harry opening doors and quickly closing them when he finds they’re already occupied.

He’s growing frustrated, only one room left that he hasn’t checked – Niall’s room. He tugs them both inside when he realises it’s empty, closing and locking the door behind them. Harry takes a pull of the joint and leaves it hanging between his lips as his fingers work on the buttons at the top of Y/N’s sundress.

She’s full of adrenaline and arousal, unable to think clearly – her mind far too consumed by lust. Harry pops open just enough buttons to reveal her bare chest, breasts exposed to his hungry eyes and he groans.

Taking the joint from his lips, he brings it to Y/N’s, encouraging her to take a hit. She does as instructed as Harry’s hands find her tits, kneading softly before he leans down to envelop her left nipple in his warm mouth.

She exhales the smoke a bit prematurely, taking another pull to make up for it and with her free hand, her fingers tangle into his brown locks.

“Harry,” she breathes and it’s like crack to him; hearing his name tumble off her lips like that. God, he wants that on repeat in his mind forever.

He nips at the underswell of her breast, pinching the perk nipple between his fingers. “What do you want?” he mumbles against the fleshy skin.

Y/N tugs at the roots of his hair, forcing his head up until their eyes are level. She places the joint between his lips now and slowly begins to sink to her knees.

“I want to taste you.”

Harry’s eyes are blown and bloodshot as she begins to unbutton his pants, shimmying them down his thighs just enough to allow his cock to spring free. He’s bigger than she remembers him to be; thick and full and his ruddy tip begins to leak with arousal.

Y/N laps at his slit, allowing herself a taste. It’s an unholy sight – the way her breasts gently move as she closes her mouth around him. In Harry’s intoxicated state, everything feels so much more heightened. Her mouth feels warmer, wetter… the whole thing feels filthy and he loves it.

She’s pressing slopping kisses along the length of him, angling her face to take his balls into her hot mouth as she pays them a little more attention. She pulls off him with a gentle kiss, staring up with doe eyes and a devilish grin.

“Fuck my throat.”

Harry could’ve come there and then, hearing those words fall from her lips. He takes another drag of the joint before pinching it back between his fingers and placing his open palms on the side of her head – the smoke from the joint no doubt clinging to her hair.

If she was sober, she’d tell him off for it. But she’s not and she doesn’t.

Instead, she relaxes her jaw as her mouth opens and her tongue lays flat as Harry guides his cock back to the waiting hole. Taking a shaky breath, his hips slowly begin to move, getting her used to his size until he picks up momentum.

Y/N’s eyes begin to sting, tears welling and his head hits the back of her throat, knocking the air from her lungs. Harry grows faster, eager. His chest is heaving and his lips part as he fucks into her.

It’s obscene, the noises her throat makes as he shoves himself further down with every snap of his lips. Strings of saliva begin to drip from the corners of Y/N’s mouth as she gags around him, her throat contracting as she splutters on his cock.

“Taking me so fucking well, baby.”

The praise goes straight to her cunt, wetness seeping through her little panties with every syllable he throws her way. Her eyes are shut tight now, unable to keep them open as Harry uses her for his own pleasure.

It’s sloppy and messy and needy. Neither of them have experienced anything so fucking sexy in their lives. The sex was good before, but this time – sneaking around and much higher than previously – it’s even more intense.

It doesn’t take much for Harry to near his end. And when Y/N cradles his heavy balls in her hand, fingernails ghosting over the divots of skin, Harry’s certain he’s about to meet his maker.

He pulls out of her mouth harshly, not giving her the chance to tell him she needs his cum drowning her throat. His arousal is too quick to paint her chest, coating her nipples in creamy ecstasy as Y/N struggles to catch her breath.

He comes, a lot, but his stamina doesn’t falter. She’s barely given chance to admire the artwork he marked her with before he’s tugging her up by the crook of her elbow. Y/N’s shoved against the foot of the bed, legs spread and ass in the air, tummy on the mattress.

Harry’s hands are hungry on her hips, bunching up the bottom of her sundress until it rests on her lower back. He feels over her subtle asscheeks, offering three spanks to her left and whimpering as the fleshy skin wobbles.

“Harry, please.”

She’s whining now, eager to be filled again. Harry tugs her little thong to the side, her cunt glistening and puffy from neglect. He wants to taste her, spend an eternity between her soaked thighs but the way Y/N wiggles her hips and backs up against him suggests she needs something more right now.

“I just wanna taste you for a bit,” he says.

She’s shaking her head, despite how badly she wants to feel him lapping up her pussy. She’s far too soaked and horny to settle for his tongue right now.

“Next time.”

Harry’s heart races a little at that. Next time? So, she plans for there to be. Not that Harry has a problem with it. He’d be more than fucking happy to make this a regualr thing if she wanted it.

Listening to her request, he lines his head with her entrance, pushing through her folds to coat himself in her slickness. Her legs are trembling in need, face smushed into the blanket and she knows she’s ruining it with her makeup and the come that covers her tits, but she cannot bring herself to care.

With the joint still between his fingers, Harry brings it back to his lips for another drag. He lines himself back with her puckering hole and gentle sheaths inside. She’s tight – tighter than he remembers – and her walls are so fucking slick it feels like he’s being swallowed whole.

A shriek escapes Y/N’s mouth at the familiar intrusion, the way he stretches and fills her to the brim. Her mind feels dizzy, vision dotting with white lights as Harry begins to fuck the soul out of her.

It’s fast and deep, and she’s quick to soak his pubic bone with arousal. Harry leans over her body, guiding the joint to her lips, allowing her a puff. “Hold onto that for me, gorgeous.”

She takes it from her lips and stretches her arm above her head, wrist against the blanket and joint pointing in the air. His hands are back on her hips as he grips her tight.

“Good girl, angel.”

Smack!

His pace is criminal, balls slapping against her throbbing clit with every hit of his hips that he delivers. She’s struggling to stay coherent, unable to string a sentence together as she begs him for more, more, more.

Harry grips her hips hard, bringing her cunt to him as he fucks into her. Y/N’s body is limp — lets him use her as a toy for his own pleasure and takes whatever he offers.

She shouldn’t enjoy this so much, getting fucked by her friend, her roommate. But it’s too good to realise they’re stepping on dangerous territory. With the promise of next time.

“Tight little cunt was fucking made for me.”

“It’s yours! I’m yours!”

Her words are a struggle to speak, heart in her throat as her pussy drips for him. It’s too much for Harry. To see her so bare and willing and done for him. To know the affect he has on her, to be buried so fucking deep in her cunt that she can hardly talk.

His orgasm creeps up on him quickly, cock twitching within the tight confinements of her walls. She feels it, she feels everything. And it only spurs her release on, too.

Her cunt clenches around him, legs beginning to tremble and a wanton cry crawls out from her lips. “I’m gonna come!”

Harry keeps his pace steady, coaxes her through it with deep and precise strokes. The tip of his cock continues to pinch at her cervix, the curve in his length rubbing deliciously against her g-spot.

Y/N shudders around him, desperate to milk him for all he’s got as she explodes. She’s quick to bury her face into the blanket, muffling her screams as her vision spots black and white kaleidoscopes behind her eyes.

“Give it to me, baby. Come all over me… that’s it.”

He’s quick to follow, bursts of hot come painting the walls of her cunt and Harry stills inside of her, knees buckling as he tries to keep himself steady.

It’s quiet for a moment, save for their heavy breathing and wheezing chests.

It must be true what they say about post-nut clarity. Because as they come down from their highs, there’s a tension in the room that’s far too suffocating. And it only gets worse when Harry slowly pulls out of her cunt and leaves her bent over Niall’s bed, dripping onto the blanket beneath her.

Harry clears his throat as he tucks himself back into his pants and watches Y/N wobble to her feet as she stands. They don’t look at each other, at least not face-to-face.

Her tits are still out and his arousal on her chest has transferred to the blanket. She's quick to fix her dress and her underwear — more than a little uncomfortable with the feeling of Harry’s come dribbling out of her.

She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “We should leave separately, so no one suspects anything.”

Harry’s not given much time to confer before she shimmies out of Niall’s room and down the hall to the closest bathroom. He’s left there, slightly stunned and a little embarrassed. It’s a bit confusing, it didn’t feel like a mistake after the last time. But now, with how quickly she wanted to leave, Harry worries she regrets it.

He scratches at the back of his head, wincing at the sight of Niall’s blanket. There’s come stains on the green fabric and the joint that Y/N was supposed to hold had been dropped mid-orgasm and burnt a small hole through the blanket.

Deciding it would be best to just replace it, Harry bunches the blanket up into a ball and shoves it in the trash can in the corner of the room — making a mental note to buy Niall a new one.

It’s the least of his concerns, though.

Because despite Harry’s worry about Y/N’s regret, he still craves her touch and her presence. And she’s just the same — cleaning herself up in the bathroom and splashing water in her face to try to calm down.

All she can think about is how much she needs him and it doesn’t feel just sexual anymore. For either of them.

What the hell have they gotten themselves into?

let me know what you thought :)

tags: @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @kissfromadove

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

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babybluewoso · 11 days

Text

Drunkie II Alexia putellas x reader

They were engaged at this point. Y/N finally had herself someone to love truly, to trust. It was a huge party in the Patri’s house. All the staff members and the whole team were there to join the party.

The party was fun. Though due to that it ended with a heavy boom. Alexia was still somewhat sober having drunken two cases of beer. Though, Y/N had gone hammered after winning the drinking contest against her and another staff member of the team with a staggering 6 bottles of beer, 2 shots of vodka, and three shots of tequila.

Y/N was at her most tipsy, but it wasn't enough to make her pass out or drunkenly spin circles to do something stupid. Thankfully this was all stopped as Alexia brought Y/N back to their house.

Y/N had smelled of alcohol after she practically swam in beer because of a dare Patri made her do. Because of that her shirt and pants were dampened with beer, showing off her toned abs. Yet alexia couldn't complain, Y/N had it less. Mapi and Lucy swam in tequila.

Y/N lays on the bed drunkenly. She was muttering some phrases off.

"She's pretty." Y/N mutters.

Alexia turns her head as she grabs some of her new clothes from the wardrobe.

“Who is Y/N?" She asks before setting the clothes by her side.

"My wife." Y/N Says. She lets out a drunken laugh. "Like ... she is gorgeous. I LOVE HER!"

She lets out a chuckle rolling her eyes. "Well, she must be a lucky person to have you." She Says.

"Nah !! " Y/N slurs.

She then begins undressing her button down. Y/N's max drunk mode made it nearly impossible as she tries wiggling her shirt off. Yet Y/N manages to slap her hand off her without fail.

"Y/N!" She scolds.

“No." Y/N Says. "She'll get mad!"

She looks at them confused. "Y/N you smell like beer. Don't make this complicated, it's late night." She complains. "Who’s going to get mad anyway?"

She tries again to get her shirt off. She swat her hand away.

“Staahhhp! She's going to get angry." Y/N hisses. "And if you don't stop, I'll make her use her powers on you. My wife is La Reina."

"Y/N what?"

Y/N swats her hand away. "No, I don't love you." She say angrily.

Immediately Alexia’s chest hits with hurt. "What?"

"Only Alexia can touch me." She scold. "My wife can only do that. Stop it!"

Her faltered expression immediately lightens up. She couldn't help but let out a giggle at Y/N's behavior. No doubt Alexia’s fiancé is the stereotypical golden retriever masc. The thought itself made her smile widely. Even when Y/N was drunk she had a conscious to be loyal to her.

She then places herself right over Y/N’s body. She grabs the sides of her face firmly. "Y/N, you drunk idiot ... " She says sternly.

Y/N opens her eyes slightly. A once annoyed expression is replaced by a smile. “Hi babe.” Y/N Says with a laugh. “Thank god you’re here.”

She smiles. "You're drunk Y/L/N." She comments.

"I know." Y/N admits. She then touches her hair, circling it around her fingers. "You know you are really pretty."

"You tell me that every day."

Y/N smiles before telling it back. "Because I mean it." She say.

She lets out a happy sigh. "You know in the least can we get your shirt and pants off."

"If we do it now, I might vomit on you." Y/N slurs.

"I'm just changing your clothes babe." She Says. "You, Mapi and Lucy swam in liquor today."

"It was Patri's idea." Y/N retorts.

"I know." She Says. "And I'm gonna kill her for it." She adds under her breath.

Finally after some time she finally gets the needed clothes off. She throws them in the laundry. She was about to leave to go and grab some of Y/N’s medicine when she feels a something tugs at her.

"Ale baby ... stay!" Y/N groans.

She turns her head. "I have to go get your pills for your hangover so you don't complain all tomorrow.” She Says.

Y/N laughs. "Fuck the hangover." She mumble. "I want my wife here."

She rolls her eyes. Knowing if she fought back, it would take another hour for this to calm down. Willingly she slides right beside Y/N in bed.

Alexia let Y/N spoons her.

“Why won't you face me?” She asks.

"Because my breath smells like alcohol." Y/N murmurs quietly. She hold her hand though as their legs tangle within each other.

“Goodnight babe." She Says.

Without missing a beat Y/N reply back slurring her words heavily.

"Love you." She manages to say.

-------

thank you for reading.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas fluff #masc lesbian #masc reader #woso community

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keikakudom · 2 months

Text

I decided to make a HH AU cause...y'know....anyway.... now introducing

Reset Resort! A Hotelier Vox AU

- you already know, it's a hotel Vox AU.....but not quite what you're thinking. Kind of a swap between Alastor and Vox, it focuses on the butterfly effects of this single change, rather than a full reversal.

- Most things are kinda(?) the same. Except the hotel is not as run-down and quite more successful. As if S1’s hotel started with S2's reputation and building. It's also more modern/sleek and closer to your typical strip hotel. Much more busy with additional residents coming in and out. Think Vegas-style. It has way too many amenities than necessary, and it's actually an enjoyable place to hang out , but the message for "redemption" might be a bit....lost.

- It’s supposed to be a place where Sinners can (lightly) indulge in their vices without risk of falling into a soul-binding deal on their road to recovery.

- In this AU, movement between Sinners/Winners has been proven. NOT redemption yet. With this “concrete” evidence, Vox considers it "purely a business investment" to sponsor the hotel.

- Because of this "proof", Heaven has granted Hell/Charlie a grace period of an extra year with no exterminations, so long as they continue to monitor the process and Hell provides further progress and evidence of redemption.

Vox is there for the start up of the hotel with Charlie. He sponsors her project with his reach and expertise. His personality is much more subdued, his TV persona taking center stage, except for rare occasions. His temper is not as bad as in-canon. AKA, he’s much more fake and corny in this AU.

Charlie is slightly more mature and realistic in this AU. She studies redemption seriously and notes behavioral patterns/is much more patient and careful with the process. With Vox being extremely efficient and taking over the managerial/facility side of the resort, she is able to dedicate her time fully towards the redemption of sinners and being a therapist. She is still overzealous sometimes because she knows that if nobody else will show enthusiasm/push sinners to do better, then nobody will.

- Vox tried to manipulate Charlie very early on when they first met, and Charlie ended up realizing his kindness was just for his own benefit and has been wary of that fact ever since.

- Their relationship is like: she knows he’s reliable and will do everything she asks, but is doubtful/sad that he’s ingenuine. Vox thinks Charlie looks at him with pity and absolutely HATES it, but he still plays carefully so he can do a repeat and build up her trust again. Doesn't like Vaggie for a similar reason. They just think he's another misguided sinner in need. Neither have fully grasped the idea that most Sinners chose to do-evil(which he certainly has).

- Vox holds a contract with Lucifer. What for? Well... let's say that they're on good terms and are friends. They meet with each other once a week (where Lucifer gets social interaction and updates on Charlie).

I already have sketches for Alastor and Vaggie planned out in this AU~

It's less of a full "reversal" and more so one swap and the butterfly effect that follows. This AU has been my brainchild for a few weeks, so PLEASEEE I'd love to answer any questions or asks....

My AU tag is #au: reset resort

All information can be found under there! Until I make a masterpost or something.

Old design under the cut:

#hazbin hotel #my art #au: reset resort #vox #charlie

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cybertronic69 · 8 months

Text

- a little touch?

warnings: loser!ellie , bff!ellie , top!ellie , bottom!reader , fingering (r!receiving) , choking (r!receiving) , degradation (r!receiving)

□

"and THAT'S what i told her." you finish your hot piece of gossip. "wow... the world is spinning." you mumble as you rest on your head on ellie's shoulder. she blushes a little and gently strokes your hair with her fingers.

"it's, okay..." she smiles softly. "i got you. take it easy." she takes a sip of her whiskey and tries to not make a face at it. she doesn't like whiskey. in fact, she hates whiskey. but when you invited her to a nice little pub in jackson, she thought that maybe that was her chance to make herself look cool to you. so here she is. drinking rat poison. "i think you've had enough for the night, no?"

"no..." you shake your head. "i can take it..." your voice is slightly breathy and oh. you really shouldn't say these things around her. not that she is going to do anything about it, cause she's a pussy, but it gives her a hard time. like, come on, have some empathy.

ellie tries to ignore the rumble in her heart when you look up at her with big curious eyes. "is it good?" you mumble when your hands slowly wrap around her cup.

she shrugs trying to act nonchalant. "i like it." she doesn't. her eyes are glued on your lips when you take a sip of her drink. indirect kiss. she wants to slap herself in the face. stop being weird. act cool.

"argh..." you stick your tongue out with a frown and she chuckles. "this shit is ass." you add.

ellie grabs her cup again and takes one more sip. indirect kiss. indirect kiss. indirect kiss. she sighs and shifts on her seat. she's pathetic.

you take a look around and notice that the cozy pub is almost empty now. the little screws in your brain start to work hard. you need to have her before someone else snatches her from you. ellie, being the dumb fuck she is, never notices when girls try to flirt with her. and that includes you too. like, ok... you might not be the most direct person ever but jesus christ the girl is oblivious.

so you shoot your shot. again. "looking pretty cute tonight, els..." you whisper with a little grin.

she looks at you like a deer in headlights. "o-oh... do you think so?" she swallows hard and chuckles awkwardly. "are you that drunk already?" neeever gonna get it.

"you look pretty even when i'm sober." you reply and ellie looks a tomato now. ok, maybe we need a different approach.

"hey... remember when you told me about the holes in the space... with the... snakes...?" you whisper. she always did stuff like that. you actually like it when she elliexplains things to you. it's cute. she's cute.

ellie's heart flutters in her chest just from hearing your voice. "snakes?" she frowns. "oh!" her expressions changes to a amused one and she chuckles. "you're thinking of wormholes... the holes in like... the space-time itself."

"really?" now you're the one frowning. you could swear it was the fucking snakes. maybe if you spent more time actually listening to her than just staring stupidly at her pretty little face.... "well... worms... snakes... they both don't have legs... or arms... so..." you shrug.

"i think wormholes are much cooler than snakes, personally." she gently smiles, finding you funny.

"snakes are definitely cooler." you blurt out and she laughs. "like... at least they're solid. everything in the universe is like dust, gas and blah, blah, blah..."

"not everything is gas or dust..." her eyes are sparkling when she looks at you. "what about black holes?"

"are they solid?" you raise an eyebrow.

"no... but... you can definitely see and hear things that have been affected by one." she stares up at the ceiling, like she's lost in thought. "plus they're infinitely dense, so that's pretty solid right?"

"no, it's not." you hug her arm and rub your face on her shoulder, making ellie's breath hitch for a moment and messing up her train of thought. "you are solid."

"y-yeah..." her voice cracks. "i am."

"i don't think i could hug a black hole, but i can hug you." you grin like you just made the smartest point ever.

ellie nods and stays silent. she's nervous. you make her nervous. even tho you two have been friends for a looong time, she always makes a fool of herself when you're around. trembling hands, stuttered words, flushed cheeks.

"you smell so good..." you brush your nose against her neck and ellie is really about to pass out. she clears her throat and adjusts her glasses that are slipping off her nose.

"you drank a lot, don't you wanna go to the bathroom?" she says trying to change to a topic that doesn't involve your lips being so close to her skin.

"mmh... yeah, i think..." you slowly get up from your seat and your little brain screws get to work again. your direct you gaze at her and smile. "come with me. girl code." girl code my ass.

ellie, not thinking much of it, just nods and follows you. she really is a dumb fuck... but you hope that by the end of the night you will be the one who's dumb.

you two get to the bathroom and you stop in front of the mirror to check yourself out. ellie also stops to check you out. she's very subtle about it tho. at least that's what she thinks.

"you're not going?" you point at one of the cabins and ellie shakes her head. "ok, just wait for me then."

as you sit on the closed toilet lid, your brain is working at the speed of light trying to figure it out what to do. this is the perfect opportunity. "els?" you whisper in a quiet voice.

"yes? are you okay?" her voice sounds gentle and caring. god, you need to have her.

"i think i need your help, can you come inside?" you unlock the door of the cabin.

"um... yeah... sure..." her filthiest dreams usually started like this. she's scared. and horny. "what is it?" she mumbles, now standing inside the cabin.

you get up and frown looking down at your clothes. "there's something making me itchy... i think it's like a tag or something... can you take it off for me?" get this woman an oscar.

ellie feels her voice dying out in her throat, so she simply nods.

"thanks, els." you lock the door and hear her gulp. "just in case someone tries to walk in..." you add with a grin plastered on you face.

"makes sense..." ellie mumbles and her eyes double in size when you start to take your shirt off. she is having a hard time looking you in the eyes. i mean, she always does, but this time there's a reason right in front of her. two reasons, if you want to be specific.

"cute bra, right?" you whisper with an amused look on your eyes.

she sighs with a flushed expression. "yes..." when you touch her shoulders and gently make her sit down on the toilet, she has to hold in a gasp. "w-what?"

you smile again. "just so you can see better. you know... the tag that we're trying to find in my clothes." your turn around and slightly fold the fabric on the waistline of your pants. "do you see anything?"

yes, she does. she sees your fucking white lace panties and this is so not fair to her. she looks up at you with that cute expression that she makes when she's too embarrassed. slightly furrowed brows, puppy eyes and flushed cheeks. she looks miserable and it's turning you on a little too much.

"what?" you try to look serious but the way your lips are curling up in a smile gives you away.

"why are you doing this to me?" ellie mumbles and her voice is so broken, so needy...

"because..." you get closer to her, making her nose brush against your ribs. "you make me so horny..."

ellie looks like someone who was hit by a car. her heart is beating so fast that she thinks she's going on cardiac arrest. "you're drunk..." she babbles breathlessly.

"doesn't chance the fact my panties are soaked right now..." you sit on her lap and she whines.

ellie was going to die. her boxers felt too tight, her lungs didn't seem to be doing their job correctly and her blood pressure was on the ground. "this is... this is not...."

"don't you want me too, els?" you bury your face on her neck and your hot breath against her skin is making her hyperventilate.

ellie closes hers for a moment and takes a deep breath... she tries to keep her cool and whispers. "we can't do that, you know it. you're drunk." her veiny hands hesitantly touch your bare back. "just relax... try to ignore... t-this feeling..."

"but it's such a good feeling..." your hips slowly start to move on their own, trying to get some relief.

ellie starts to panic a bit now "shhhhhhhh... just... ignore it..." she whispers again. her hands reach your hips, holding you tightly now, not letting you move around.

you let out a soft whimper at this. her hands feel so good against your skin... you need more.

"just...." ellie sighs. she brings you closer again and looks into your eyes... she feels your hips moving faster. she grabs you harder and tries to hold you down. "calm d... down..." she mumbles. "be good... for now..."

"touch me more... please..." you mumble against her neck.

ellie is trying to hold her breath now. her cheeks are a deep red, her jaw clenched and a few drops of sweat are now visible on her forehead. she can feel your hips moving against hers. "stop... don't make me do it..."

"do it..." your voice is shaky and full of need.

"i shouldn't... i c-can't..." she tries to calm down but it's not working. in a moment of impulse she starts kissing the side of your neck.

"nngh... love you, els...." you babble already feeling drunk in her.

"i... i love you too... i love you so much... that's why i... can't..." ellie's sentence is cut off by her leaning forward and nibbling your neck. she grips your hips tightly, not letting you move around.

"give me a k-kiss... a real one... " you touch your forehead on hers.

ellie's eyes go wide and her breathing becomes even more shallow as she hears you say that. "we're drunk... you're... not thinking clear..." she whispers, trying to find excuses so you change your mind.

"need you..." you whisper back.

her grip is tight around you. "i... i don't think this is a good idea."

you gently brush your lips against her jaw, almost not touching it. ellie lets this continue for a moment and tries to keep her cool. she feels your lips and your hand cupping her face. she bites her lower lip and tries to stay still. her body reacts to you and she's trying her hardest to stay calm and not lose it now.

but when you peck her lips, ellie loses her cool. she grabs your shoulders and pulls you towards her body, slamming her lips on yours. her hands are touching you everywhere as you're having the sloppiest and most desperate kiss of your life.

"can i p-please.... touch your..." she cups your pussy and you moan. you roll your hips against her hand and she moans.

"there's no need to ask... do it..." you whisper and she nods.

"i'll do.... it." she turns you around on her lap, making your back press against her chest. "whatever... i want..." she mumbles in between hot kisses on your neck, her hand cupping your pussy again.

you moan softly as your back arch against her body. "yes... like this" your head falls back on her shoulder and she wraps one hand around your neck. you gasp. what the fuck. that's what she meant by 'whatever she wants?' filthy. not like you're the best person to judge considering the fact that you were basically smashing your boobs on her poor shocked face not too long ago.

ellie was in heaven. this barely started and it already was better than any fantasy, any wet dream she could possibly have. your hips squirmed on her lap everytime she toyed with your puffy clit through the fabric of your panties and you gasped when she squeezed your neck a little harder and... and... and...

her boxers were soaked. she couldn't believe this. she must be dreaming... that's it. it's too good to be true. but then you grind your ass down on her pussy. she feels it right on her clit and she groans.

"s-stop acting like a slut...." she bites down on your shoulder. "teasing me like that... all the time..." she slides two fingers inside your pussy and you mewl. "gonna give you... what you want... you fucking whore." she babbles against your neck.

see, ellie's mouth wouldn't be nowhere as dirty if she wasn't so pussy drunk. she was a loser, after all. but she had all this accumulated frustration inside her that she needed to let it out. and maybe you are a whore, so who cares? no hard feelings.

"gonna fuck... this pussy... nngh... so good...." she quickens the pace of her fingers, hitting the gummy spot inside your pussy and you sob.

"i-it's too g-good, ellie..." you babble, your hips trembling hard.

"y-yeah? you like it when... when..." she's full on dry humping you now, her hips hitting your ass cheeks making a delicious pressure on her clit. "ah fuck..."

when your walls squeeze hard around her fingers, she also has to close her eyes hard. because what the fuck? is she really about to cum? no... you need to cum first.

her thumb finds your clit and massages it as her fingers keep railing your poor pussy. her free hand grips on your squirming hips, to keep you in place.

"e-ellie.... nngh..." you can't even see anything at this point. your vision is blurry with tears and your lip is in between your teeth.

"shh... you're gonna cum for me, ok? please cum for me..." she whispers against your neck, sounding a little too desperate herself.

you nod eagerly, almost drooling at this point, and your orgasm hits you hard. when you let out a loud strangled moan, ellie's hand shuts your mouth and she buries her face on your back, trying not to make any loud sounds herself.

when she takes her hand off your soaked panties, she has to hold a noise in. you made a fucking mess all over her fingers and she needs to taste it.

"can you... can you give me another one?" she kisses your shoulder. "please, give me another one... need to taste your pretty pussy... come on..."

you simply nod at this, your ability to speak long gone. ellie lifts you up and presses your back against the wall of the cabin. "gonna make it good, i promise..." she whispers as she kisses down your torso and gets on her knees.

you look down at her and the view almost kills you. a very messy ellie, with flushed cheeks, trembling lips, and her glasses still on her pretty face. yours hands caress her hair and she blinks hard.

"you're pretty..." you mumble.

ellie looks very embarrassed at the compliment almost as if she wasn't calling you names 5 minutes ago. "thank you..." she puts one of yours legs on her shoulder. "you're... the prettiest." she kisses your pussy and you shiver.

she takes her time now, being gentle and giving your thighs soft kisses and bites, teasing you until she finally gives your slit a long lick. you groan at this and tighten your grip on her hair. she also groans at this.

as things get more foggy and intense, your noises get louder. "shh... gotta be quiet." ellie mumbles, even tho she's also moaning. from eating you out. insane.

"els... if you k-keep going..." you shut your eyes hard as your legs tremble.

"...you're gonna cum? if i keep going...? her voice is shaky as she seems even more hungry now. she's eating your pussy like she's starved, your juices all over her face.

you roll your hips into her face, pulling her closer by her hair. you're pretty much using her at this point and she couldn't be happier. best day ever. or maybe not, cause soon after that you two hear loud slams on the bathroom door.

"ah, fuck, fuck, fuck..." ellie eyes are wide as she slowly gets up, her legs wobbly. she wipes her face with her shirt and licks her lips.

"the pub is CLOSING. this is not a motel." the loud voice from the other room announces and you can't help but giggle.

"dont laugh!" ellie says, exasperated. "they all will know what we've done when we leave... what if-"

you pull her into a gentle kiss and she melts. when you pull back her face is even more red than before, somehow. "h-hey... i was talking..." ellie mumbles, a slight pout on her lips.

"talk to me when we get to your room... i'm not done with you yet." you put your shirt on and leave the bathroom.

ellie stays there for a little, trying to catch her breath, hoping the redness on her cheeks would stop. it didn't.

□

#talking to my psychiatrist about my obsession with ellie wearing glasses 💯#she's a cutie #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #tlou 2 ellie #tlou 2 #tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader

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roseykat · 6 months

Text

TITLE: Venom Biter

PAIRING: Minho x reader

SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.

A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.

MASTERLIST

“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”

His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier.

He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.

“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.

A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled.

“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer.

“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”

He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.”

“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”

If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.

Though naturally, you became very close with them.

“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”

Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.”

“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.

“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod.

Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you.

There had to be another reason, surely.

But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.

Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to.

In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created.

He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.

But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that.

Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave.

Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place.

You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.

It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions.

Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho.

All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.

"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.

"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.

You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in.

"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.

Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"

“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”

“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question.

“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?”

“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."

Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.

“So why is half my stuff missing?”

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.”

“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest.

“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“

“No you fucking didn’t.”

“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!”

“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”

The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”

You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”

Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”

“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!”

Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.

Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back.

You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him.

He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down.

“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off.

Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been.

His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy.

“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.”

Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means.

The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers.

He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening.

“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.

His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”

Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down.

“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out.

Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.

“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck.

You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him.

“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm.

You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is.

Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;

“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”

Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?”

“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”

A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it.

You curse right at him, “fuck you.”

His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back.

“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down.

“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him.

Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.

“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.”

Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.

Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back.

“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.

Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts.

Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm.

His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”

At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm.

“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length.

The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.

He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.

The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.

“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.”

You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.”

Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more.

"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.

“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."

"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."

Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."

“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."

He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”

Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.

It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.

But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”

There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.

A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader

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astermath · 11 months

Text

second chance ₓₒ⋆:

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.

word count: 4.8K (oops)

warnings: cursing, no use of y/n, bullying, regular size font below!

notes: first time writing for steve YES I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH HIM! YES IT IS THE FAULT OF ALL THE GOOD FIC WRITERS ON HERE! and thus,, I had to participate,, I hope I got his character down, I might write more for him so let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!

tagging some writers who have absolutely inspired me to write this with their own incredible fics, be sure to check them out <3 @hungharrington @sunshinesteviee @ghostlyfleur @lilacletter @stevenose

As a teenager, you’d grown to hate Hawkins. It was a mundane, small town with boring people, not much to do, not to mention the weird supernatural rumors you’d hear about every other week.

But nothing was worse than your high school, Hawkins High. There was a strong social hierarchy, with you firmly placed at the bottom. You were a class A nerd, getting good grades, and always reading to distract yourself from your lack of a social life. So naturally, you got picked on a lot. At first it was just some girls in your class, laughing at your big glasses and the way you dressed. But as you got older, you’d caught the eye of so called “king Steve” and his goons.

You’d heard plenty about him by junior year; how rich his parents were, how he was the best at sports, how every girl practically dropped to their knees when he entered a room. He’d started noticing you when his friend Carol pointed you out, sitting alone on a bench outside school, waiting for your dad to pick you up. His finger had pushed your book down so he could look at your face, and you were soon met with his all too cocky grin.

“Watcha readin’, four eyes?” The ego was nearly dripping off his words, making your stomach turn.

“None of your business.” you pulled your book away, keeping a finger between the pages you were on. “Doubt it’s near your reading level anyways, Harrington.” You may have been nerdy, but you were no pushover. If they wanted to be condescending, then you’d play their game right back at them.

“That’s no way to treat your king, is it?” Tommy chimed in, like a parrot on his shoulder. You were sure that guy would be nowhere without his friend’s reputation, considering he had the personality of a wet sock.

“My king?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” You tried putting your book away, but Carol had snatched it from your hands just before you could reach your bag.

“Oooh, is this your diary or somethin’?” she flipped it open, shit eating grin plastered over her face as she ran her nail over your name written on the opening page.

“Do you mind? Give it back!” you’d reached out to grab it from her, but she’d already tossed it back to Steve, who was now holding it high above his head.

“Come and get it sweetheart,” He smirked. “Might have to get real close for it though.” Tommy laughed like a hyena at his taunting, and you swore you would have punted him if they didn’t outnumber you.

You scowled, ready to just grab your bag and make a swing for it. “Over my dead body, Steve.” You spat his name, and he grinned at your response.

“Ahh, shouldn’t have said that.” He dropped the book down into the muddy puddle in front of you, stepping on it to make matters worse.

You watched, mouth slightly agape as tears welled up in your eyes. Carol cackled while you stood frozen, clutching your bag as you watched the pages soak up the filthy water under his foot. You had every reason not to like Steve, he was like every movie’s description of a high school bully. But he’d destroyed something personal of yours. So now you had every reason to hate Steve.

And the bullying never stopped there. He’d laugh when Carol put her gum in your hair, when Tommy would bump into you extra hard in the hallway, when you’d turn around every time you saw him.

So when graduation came, you couldn’t be happier to get out of there and go to college.

Except your dad got fired from his job. And so, after just a year of college, you’d abandoned your dream of majoring in English literature and returned to the sad, miserable old town you grew up in.

So you’d taken on a job in your local bookstore, hoping to make enough money to rent an apartment anywhere else soon. You spent the rest of your time reading and writing, usually outside to get some inspiration. You weren’t surprised to see a lot of familiar faces, though you’d never actually spoken to most of them. College was expensive, and a lot of people from Hawkins were just going straight into working than bothering to study. Or maybe some were in the same unfortunate position as you, tragically locked to your hometown.

You were sat outside the backside of the mall, listening to people’s conversations around you. Though you were never much of a socialite, you were very interested in the way people interacted with one another, especially if they were from completely different backgrounds than you.

Two books sat besides you, knees brought up close to your chest as your papers leaned against your legs. You messily wrote down strings of sentences and words of inspiration, a description of what you were seeing too, every now and then. You were an aspiring writer, hoping your literary skills would one day break you out of your current situation, but with the current state of the world, that’s all you could really be. Hopeful.

You were daydreaming about the life you’d build for yourself, finger running over the tip of your pen. You were so involved in your own train of thoughts, you almost hadn’t noticed the sudden new presence besides you.

“Watcha writin’, pretty girl?”

The voice sounded familiar. A little too familiar for your liking, actually. You kept your eyes on the page, hoping you conveying your disinterest was working in driving the guy away. You sighed, clicking the pen a few times. “Do you really care, or do you just wanna bother me?”

You could hear a faint chuckle, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sound nice. Still, you were working, and you preferred not to be disturbed when you were.

“You got me there,” the guy spoke, and you could tell he’d moved a little closer, because you could now smell a sliver of his cologne. “Was never one for books, but I’ve been wanting to read more. What is this, Pride and Prejudice?” He picked up one of the books, and you turned, about to take it from when your eyes landed on his face, freezing midway when you finally realized why he sounded so familiar.

Steve motherfucking Harrington.

Same cocky smile, same brown eyes, same somehow always perfectly styled hair, and probably same asshole altogether.

You squinted slightly, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. “... Steve Harrington?” You question, and you could tell he doesn’t quite know how to react at first.

Truth be told, Steve had changed. A lot. All the things he’d gone through, the connections he’d made, the ego checks he got, it made him a new man. Or so he definitely liked to believe. But he was also painfully aware of his reputation, his old persona still haunting him sometimes. Still, he’d never seen you before, so he hoped it was a relatively positive image you had of him.

“I guess my reputation precedes me,” he smiled, and you think it’s the first time you’d ever seen him genuinely smile. Not the smile he gave you when his friends were teasing you, no, this one was much softer. “Or maybe... We’ve met before?”

And then it clicked.

Steve had no clue who you were.

Sure, you’d developed a better sense of style over the years. You no longer needed braces, you had grown into your body better, and your glasses fit your face a lot more. But you didn’t think you changed that much. Besides, your personality had remained the same. You were still the sharp tongued, book loving, nerdy girl he’d bullied back then.

It was true, he didn’t recognize you. He was almost certain you were new in town, telling his best friend Robin that if he knew you, he’d definitely recognize a face that pretty. She had no clue who he was talking about, this mysterious girl he’d seen reading and writing all over Hawkins, so she just told him to make a move. So he did.

“So uh,” He leaned his arm over the backside of the bench, facing you. “I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go out sometime. Y’know, catch a movie, go to the arcade, whatever you’d like to do for fun, uh...” he flipped the book open on the first page, reading your name aloud. And then it clicked for him too. You weren’t new here, and you most certainly knew him. He looked back up at you, already getting ready to apologize when you snatched the book from his hands and got up.

“Go fuck yourself, ‘king Steve’.” You scowled, shoving your stuff in your bag and angrily walking off.

He had to admit, that stung, hearing you use his old nickname like that, and then watching you storm off. He was starting to realize that there were more consequences to his high school endeavors than he’d initially imagined, that he couldn’t just move on and pretend that he was a new person now. He had to make things right. Starting with you, the pretty girl with the glasses.

“And-- and then, wait for it-- I look into the book, right?” Steve stands behind the counter of Family Video, hands motioning vividly as he tells his friend about what had happened the day before.

Robin nods, mumbling some kind of “uhuh” as she continues to organize the shelves.

“And it’s her! It’s four eyes!” He exclaims, looking expectantly at his colleague, hoping for a big reaction.

“I’m sorry, who?” Robin’s face contorts in confusion, turning to face him with a hand on her hip.

“Shit, uh, she was like always reading and stuff, and she had these-- these glasses, they were way too big for her face, and--”

His sentence was cut short by the jingle of the door opening, and the two of them looked to see you there, who was clearly not expecting a welcome committee. Your gaze crossed Steve’s, and for a moment he felt like you were about to kill him with just your stare. You rolled your eyes, scoffing audibly and started looking through the shelves.

Robin looked at Steve, mouthing a “is that her”, to which he nodded stealthily. She replied by smiling approvingly, as if she now understood exactly why he wanted to make things right. You were really pretty, she could definitely see that.

You damn near slammed down the tape you wanted to rent for the day on the counter, avoiding eye contact as you looked through your bag for your wallet.

“Are you already registered at Family Video or—“

“No.” You cut him off, head snapping up.

“Alright,” Steve nodded, slightly intimidated. “I’ll just need your name and phone number for the registry.”

You stared at him for a few moments, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Did he really think you were that stupid?

“Are you fucking—“ You looked over at his colleague. “Is he fucking with me?”

Robin shook her head slowly, slightly intimidated. Though she could see why he had to work his way up to talking to you, she had to admit, it was quite funny seeing Steve actually struggle talking to a girl like this.

“We need it in case you don’t return the tape.” He gave you a thin lipped, awkward smile as he got the keyboard out to type it in.

“Fine,” You huffed, “but if I get a personal call from you, I’m changing numbers.” You started to list your phone number and complete your registration. You just wanted to watch the Breakfast Club for christ’s sakes, this was taking ages…

“That’ll be 10 dollars,” he put on a sweet, almost customer service-y smile, “please.”

“Yeah, fine, just—“ You rummaged through your bag, brows furrowing when you still couldn’t manage to find your wallet. You were certain you had it, although you did grab your stuff in a bit of a rush that morning. “I swear it’s here, it’s just under all this other stuff…”

You were about to dump the contents of your bag onto the counter when Steve held up his hand, pulling out his own wallet. “It’s fine, I got it.” He deposited 10 dollars of his own into the cash register, sliding the tape back over to you along with a receipt. “Courtesy of Steve Harrington.”

You looked down at the tape, and something in you wanted to smile. You were still getting used to this, guys doing nice things for you because you were pretty, but it was different from Steve. You were mad at him, and rightfully so. Te, measly dollars wasn’t going to cut it.

You muttered a “thanks”, stuffing the tape in your bag and waving Robin a quick goodbye before speed walking back outside. Your cheeks burned hot, and you hated to admit it, but it was a really cute gesture from Steve.

“She seems nice.” Robin said, watching Steve’s expression falter with a bit of an amused grin.

Steve leaned his face into his hands, watching you leave through the window. “The nicest.” He sighed, lowering his head to rub his hands over his face. “I’m gonna have to give that another try though.”

Robin chuckled, going back to the task at hand. “Good luck with that, casa nova.”

And so he did. He kept trying. It wasn’t just because he wanted to prove something to himself, he was genuinely intrigued by you. Even back in high school, he wondered what was going on in that head of yours when you’d daydream in class, or when you were writing during breaks. But he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Tommy if he talked to you, so he chose the easy way out. Coping by making fun of you. At least that way, he never had to prove to anyone if he liked you or not.

But it wasn’t fair, not towards you, of course. He never should have treated you that way, and this was his chance of making things right. And maybe finally finding out what was always happening in that pretty mind of yours.

You were stacking books on the shelves at your job, humming a tune to yourself. You liked your job, you always got to buy books at discounted prices and read whenever it was quiet. It was a nice step-up to what would hopefully become a real writing job one day, having your own books sold in a place like this.

“Excuse me,” a voice stirred you from your daydreaming, “I’m looking for something new to read.”

You turned, and as soon as you once again caught sight of Steve, your customer service smile faded into a scowl. “You stalking me now, Harrington?”

He put up his hands in a defensive position. “Woah, jump to conclusions much?” He chuckled nervously. “No, I uh... Robin told me you worked here. So I decided to drop by.” He followed closely behind you as you walked to the back to start stacking the shelves there.

“So what are you really doing here, besides bothering me?” You turned, a book clutched to your chest. It reminded him of how you used to walk the halls, always with a book held over your heart. It was almost poetic, now that he thought about it. He knew books were your comfort, so it only made sense you’d always keep one near.

“Like I told you,” he leaned against one of the shelves, hand slipping down just a tad which almost made him lose composure, “I’m looking for somethin’ new to read.”

You raised an eyebrow, and you had to admit, he had your attention. “You?” You scoffed, followed by an almost mocking chuckle. “Shit, I didn’t even know you could read.”

He pretended to be hurt, hand over his heart as he said your name in an offended tone. “I’m wounded! I’m trying to explore more literature and here I am getting judged!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment. You were supposed to be mad, not humor his flirting, no matter how cute he was. “I uh... Well, I read this book not too long ago. It’s about two lovers who travel the world playing the music together, and one of them dies, so the other has to like, find their own sound...” You realized you were rambling a little, wide eyes looking up at him. “Or... Something like that.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that-- that sounds great. Cool. Totally.” He tried his best to brush off how your eyes were making him feel. So pretty, even when behind your glasses, he could tell how much emotion they held.

“Cool, cool,” now you were the one trying to play it cool, fingers fidgeting with the hardcover you were holding. “I’ll, uhm-- go check our stock really quick.”

He let you do your thing as he looked around the store, flipping through the pages of random books he found. Truth be told, Steve hadn’t read a single book ever since he stopped being forced to because of high school. Not because he hated reading, he just... Wasn’t very good at it. He’d often mouth along with the words, sentence by sentence, sometimes even whispering them to himself.

You returned not long after, strangely enough, with nothing in hand. “So, I think we ran out, but uh...” You adjusted your glasses. “I can lend you my copy.” You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously. “If you want.”

Steve was quite surprised by your proposal. He knew how precious your books were to you, but giving one to him? The guy who’d stomped on your own personal property not even that long ago? Damn. Maybe you were just that nice. Which made him feel even worse for treating you like shit.

“Totally! Yeah, uhm, I’ll take good care of it. Like, seriously, I’ll protect it with my life.” He grinned, and you hated how infectious his smile was.

“Good,” you handed him your copy, and he could tell it was well loved. “I better not find any mud on this one.” He nodded at your comment, swallowing down his guilt at the memory. There was a bookmark at the front, and he could tell by the dozens of sticky tabs sticking out that you were serious about your reading. So he decided to be serious about it too.

“You can give it back whenever you’re done.” You smiled awkwardly, subtly letting him know he could read it at his own pace. “Just come drop it off when you’re ready.” He was about to thank you, when you raised a finger to interrupt him. “In the exact same condition, Harrington.” Though your gesture was sweet, he could tell you still weren’t fully on good terms with him. That was fine by him, he was glad he was making any progress at all, really.

“Yeah-- yeah, for sure, no problem.” He stood there for a few seconds, book held under his arm as his other hand busied itself running through his hair. “I’ll uh... I’ll see you around.”

You smiled at how nervous he seemed. “Yeah, totally, see you around Steve.” You gave him a quick wave and went back to stocking the shelves.

Steve heart swelled with a familiar feeling as he walked out. He knew you were pretty, gorgeous even, but seeing you smile, and say his name like that... Man, he felt like an even bigger idiot for being such a douche to you back in the day. You were being so nice, and you had absolutely no reason to. He stood outside, thinking of your sweet voice and cute glasses, and clutched the book to his chest.

Huh. That did actually feel kinda nice.

And so he walked home like that, the entire way, with a tight hold on the book. He’d rather die than let it get damaged now.

One of the first things he did when he got home was go to his room, sit down on his bed and open the book. On the first page, you had your name written, and it brought him right back to when he first saw you again. Something inside him feels superficial and shallow for only talking to you now that you look different, but all the circumstances were different too. You’d both grown, matured, he just wished you’d give him more of a chance to show it.

But in a way, he supposed this was the first step to earning your trust.

He’d spent almost the entire night reading, smiling and even chuckling at some of your annotations. He was glad there was a key at the start, so he knew which color meant what. He’d even grabbed a dictionary from downstairs because he didn’t understand some words, but was eager to learn more. Reading your comments made it feel like you were right there with him. They were funny, making him crack a grin at how outraged you could be at some of the characters’ decisions.

He imagined your face when one of your comments mentioned you’d cried, and his heart twisted at the thought. Because he knew what you looked like when you cried, thick tears running over soft cheeks, lashes wet. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t still look pretty, but man, he was now more insistent on proving he’d changed than ever. Maybe his budding crush was helping that a little too.

A little more than a week later, he’d returned to the store you worked to return the book. Frankly speaking you weren’t sure if was actually going to bring it back, let alone in the exact same condition you’d given it to him in.

“So, what did you think?” Your face beamed a sort of excitement you’d only see when your interests were being discussed, and this was definitely one of them. Besides your boss, you never really had anyone to talk to about books. Though Steve was more of an unconventional choice, you enjoyed the conversation nonetheless.

What surprised you even more was that he’d actually read it. Like really, really read it, including your annotations and comments. It warmed your heart to know he had put actual time and effort into enjoying the whole thing, and he looked pretty cute talking about it too.

“But the ending broke my heart, seriously—“

“I know, right? How could she not have forgiven him for not leaving behind the music sheets? It was clearly to help her move on!”

“Ugh, I know! Man, you get it.” He laughed softly, fingers running through his chocolate colored hair.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” You laughed along, the noise in your throat slowly dying out as you got a bit too caught up in the sight of him. Steve Harrington was a handsome young man, that was common knowledge. There was a reason all those girls were always swooning over him, and you hated to admit that you could see where they were coming from. But you didn’t like the overly cocky, flirty side of him you knew in high school. You like this side, the soft, considerate, attentive Steve you’d been getting to know a little better.

Yeah, you were growing fond of him.

Which is exactly why you’d said yes to hanging out with him at the park the day after. Just “hanging out”, in his own words. He’d been careful not to make the same mistake he did the first time he talked to you, rather easing you into spending time with him one on one. He’d hate to break your trust now that you were finally able to look at him with something other than anger in your eyes.

It was already quite late when the two of you met up. You’d been busy with work, and him with helping out Dustin, so once the two you arrived at the park, it was already dark. You didn’t mind, though. Less chance of other people bothering you.

You settled on a more secluded area, Steve had even been nice enough to bring a blanket to sit on. You were initially just going to discuss the contents of the latest book he’d borrowed from you, but you had a feeling something else was left to be said.

And he was well aware of this too.

So when you were staring up at the sky, moonlight illuminating your features in a way he’d only seen described in the books he had read, he figured he couldn’t keep talking to you without clearing the air. You deserved that much.

“You know,” he cleared his throat, “I thought about what happened a lot.”

You bring your gaze over to him, tilting your head slightly. “My my, whatever could you mean?” You said, teasingly so. He knew you wanted him to just say it. And who was he to deny you of a justified apology.

He took a deep breath, fingers running through his locks. It had become almost a nervous tic to him.

“I’m really sorry about everything I did.” He said, in the most genuine tone he could muster. “Seriously, I-- I’m just kind of... ashamed, really.”

You could tell he was struggling to look at you, and you wondered how much thought he’d given this already.

“You never really realize how stupid and insignificant high school shit seems until you get out in the real world, you know? Like-- none of it matters, none of that popularity, shit, and-- and I wish I’d just realized that sooner because now--” He caught sight of your eyes and for a second, completely lost his train of thoughts. He realized he wasn’t getting to the point, suddenly understanding Robin’s need to nervously ramble entirely.

“Point is, I’m really, really sorry for the way I treated you.” His hand inched closer to yours, itching to grab it to emphasize his point. “I’ve changed a lot, and I hope that’s become at least slightly believable.” He smiled nervously, all kinds of possible responses you could give running through his mind.

They all came to a halt when he saw you smile.

That sweet, kind smile he’d seen back in high school and avoided because of how it made him feel.

The same smile that was currently reducing him to a nervous teenage boy with a crush.

“It’s okay, Steve.” You spoke softly, and the words came as a mercy to his overbearing thoughts. Your hand moved over his, and you ran a thumb over his knuckles. His hand was soft, warm, and a little clammy from what you could only assume to be the nerves.

“I’m not gonna make you beg for my forgiveness, don’t worry.” You chuckled, and his heart damn near melted at the sound. He secretly wished they could bottle whatever feeling your laugh gave him, so he could keep it with him in times of need.

“Really?” He tilted his head, brown locks falling in different ways around his face. “Because, like-- I’ll do it. Wait--” He got up on his knees and reached besides the blanket, plucking a stray flower from the grass and kneeling in front of you. He cleared his throat in an exaggerated way, before addressing you with your name. “My dearest, will you please forgive me for being a top shelf douchebag to you before?”

You couldn’t contain your laugh, feeling your face heat up at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. “Steeeeve!” You exclaimed, hands coming up to cover your face. “Okay, okay, I forgive you!”

He chuckled along with you, reaching out and gently tucking the flower behind your ear. “Alright, well--” he sat down again, now significantly closer than before, turned towards you. “would you perhaps do me the honor of going out with you then?”

You bit your lip, pretending to think about your answer as he looked at you in anticipation. Instead of answering, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his plush lips. It was better than you’d imagined, his hand finding its way on your cheek as he melted into it. He made a soft, almost pleading noise, once you pulled away, and you swore he’d never looked prettier.

“Sure, I’ll go out with you.” You brushed a lock of hair out of his face. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He grinned. “I’d hope so, after a kiss like that.”

“Shut up.” You muttered, before connecting your lips again.

He would have done so either way. Because you’d officially rendered Steve Harrington speechless. And painfully in love.

#aster writes stranger things #stevemath #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #king!steve x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fan fic #steve harrington fic #steven harrington writing #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

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lipglossanon · 1 year

Text

Out of the Blue

* ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ►*

Office Exec!Leon S. Kennedy x Personal Asst fem!reader

Shoutout to the AO3 user who requested this little ditty 😆 I hope you enjoy it!! 👉👈🥺

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, office sex, dirty talk, dacryphilia, nipple play, mean Leon, unprotected sex

Title from Out of the Blue by Purrple Cat

part ii

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A recent corporate merger meant big changes for you; you’ve been working as the personal assistant of the (then) Vice President of Communications, but with this new management coming in, that guy had been shifted and you were getting a totally new boss.

Nervously, you’ve been straightening up the office in the hopes of making a good impression— and thereby keeping your position. No one on your floor knew who the new guy was, only a name to go off of: Leon S. Kennedy.

Once you feel like there’s nothing more to be done, you step out of the VP’s office and make your way to the mini kitchen used as a break room down the hall. Hoping that a glass of water might cool your nerves, you don’t even notice the man standing on the other side of the room flipping through a folder.

His eyes track your movements, catching your jittery hands and teeth biting your bottom lip.

You nearly drop your glass when he clears his throat. Whirling around, you give him a shy smile.

“H-hi,” you smooth down your skirt, “you’re one of the new hires?”

A handful of people on your office floor were still coming and going, learning the layout and at times just hanging out in the break room until someone came in to help guide them. You helped a girl just yesterday find her desk, so you don’t think anything of this newcomer.

A slow smile spreads across his handsome face, intense blue eyes staring into your own.

“You can say that, sweetheart.”

You feel flustered at the name but step forward, hand outstretched, “Oh uh, welcome aboard. If you need any help, just let me know. Right now I’m stationed outside the vice president’s office.”

His eyebrows raise slightly, ignoring your offered handshake, “You’re the secretary?”

You ignore the flash of irritation from hearing ‘secretary’ and slowly lower your hand, “I prefer personal assistant.”

“Ahh,” he looks at you amusedly, and before your hand can drop any further he reaches out to clasp it.

He drops a kiss on the back of your hand, eyes still watching you, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet my personal assistant.”

You feel hot and embarrassed, but keep the polite smile on your face, “I’m sure the pleasure is mine, Mr. Kennedy.”

:::::

After that mortifying encounter, your days pass pretty smoothly with your new boss. You feel lucky that he decided to keep you on as his assistant even with that awkward first impression.

After a few weeks, you start to catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye—but when you turn, his attention is elsewhere. He also seems to touch you at every given opportunity. He touches your arm when he’s walking with you or presses a palm into your lower back when he’s moving around you to his seat in the conference room. He gets as close as possible when you’re typing up his reports or dropping something off at his desk for his signature. It always leaves you with butterflies.

Another work week rolls by and before you can blink, it’s been months since you’ve started to work for Leon. A few of your work colleagues like to corner you in the break room to try and get any gossip— who’s he seeing? Did he really come in twenty minutes late last Monday? What do you mean you didn’t hear that Chris saw him at the strip club?

It’s gotten to the point that you start taking your breaks at your desk. Leon notices it almost immediately and makes sure to stop by your desk from time to time. Today is no different.

“Tired of the office gossip?” He props his hip against your desk, arms crossed over his chest as he looks down at you.

You notice that he folded the sleeves of his shirt so you can see the muscles in his forearms flex. Dragging your gaze upwards with a small shake of your head, you smile at him.

“You can say that,” you pinch the bridge of you nose, “it’s all just..”

“Bullshit.”

Your eyes widen as you stifle a laugh, “I was going to say tiresome, sir.”

He smirks, “Sure thing, honey. Listen, I’m going to need you to stay late tonight. I know it’s Friday, but those weekly statistics have to be in before midnight.”

Your brows furrow, “I thought we were good; didn’t I just compile that data yesterday?”

He clicks his tongue, “‘fraid not, sweetheart. That was projections for the latest quarter.”

“Oh,” you chew your lip, “yeah, that’s no problem, Mr. Kennedy. Want me to drop them off on your desk when I’m finished?”

“Yes, thank you,” he brushes a few strands of hair from your face, making your breath hitch.

Before you can say anything, Leon straightens up from your desk and heads back into his office, door shutting behind him.

You press your palms to your eyes, willing the flutter of nervousness to ease. Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, you slump in your chair. You sigh and turn back to your monitor. Glancing at the time in the lower right hand, it reads fifteen after four; with everyone going home at five, you have a good feeling you’re going to end up staying even later than you thought.

You rotate your wrists and then go into your emails. Better to get started on it now than later.

::::

Your eyes feel dry and gritty, but you ignore it in favor of finishing out the last of this report.

“Finally,” you whisper gleefully, hitting the print button on the document.

Standing up, you stretch out your arms with a small yawn. Looking at the time you see it’s nearly half past ten. Still plenty of time for you to grab some takeout and crash in your comfy bed. You sigh happily at that thought and gather up the printed pages, heading over to Leon’s office.

Tapping on the door, you open it a crack, “Sir?”

“Come in, sweetheart. I won’t bite.”

You push open the door just enough to step inside. It clicks shut behind you as you walk further into the room. Leon is backlit by the city lights from his windows. You place the bundle of papers down on his desk.

“Take a look at this,” he gestures to his own dimly lit monitor.

Walking around the wide oak desk, you make your way to stand beside his chair.

After gazing at the screen for a second, you turn to him with a frown, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m looking at, sir.”

He smirks at you lazily, “Sure you do.”

“Wh—“

He grabs your hips and pulls you down into his lap, your thighs now straddling one leg. Your hands come up to brace against his shoulders while his slacks rub against your bare thighs where your skirt’s rucked up.

“Leon,” you gasp, eyes wide and nervous.

“Name sounds so good in your mouth, sweetheart,” his low voice breathes into your ear.

He drops a soft kiss on your neck, leaving a heated trail up to your jaw. Pulling back, you can see how dark his eyes have gotten.

“Been waiting forever to get you alone.”

“We can’t. I’m your—“

“Personal assistant,” he chuckles meanly, “I know, baby. And I’m going to use you for very personal reasons.”

He grips your hair in a fist and guides your mouth down in his. Your parted lips lets him slip his tongue into your mouth. Groaning, he grabs your ass with his free hand and urges you to roll your hips forward.

You whine, feeling so hot and dizzy, clit thrumming with arousal. You follow the guidance of his hand and start to grind your hips down into his leg. You eagerly suck on his tongue when he thrusts it back into your mouth. You feel him groan low in his chest and it makes you arch into him more.

He tugs your head back to take in your blitzed out expression.

“Baby, we haven’t even started yet,” he coos, “got you cockdrunk already huh.”

“Leon,” you whimper, hips rocking on his lap.

“Gonna get my pants soaking wet baby,” his eyes drop down to the apex of your thighs, “fuck, that’s it, good fucking girl.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, wrinkling the fabric of his designer shirt.

“Knew you’d be so fucking sweet, always letting me touch you, get so fucking shy,” he growls, pulling your hair harder to tilt your neck back, “gonna ruin this little cunt, baby.”

You whine, humping down into his leg harder, slick pooling in your panties and dripping all over his slacks.

“Fuck, good girl, always so good for me,” he lets go of your hair to grip your neck, “always so eager to please.”

He presses his thumb into your panting mouth; he presses down onto your tongue before pulling his thumb free and smearing spit all over your lips.

You can’t stop whining, tears beading at your lash line.

“Leon, please.”

He lets go of his grip on you, and reaches out to tug open your button up blouse.

“Look at those fucking tits, baby,” he purrs, pulling the cups of your bra down until your breasts are completely bare—aching nipples on display.

He greedily mouths at each breast and sucks on your nipples, teeth catching on the sensitive buds until you’re clawing at his shoulders.

“Good girl,” he praises, feeling you shudder at the endearment, “you’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

“So good for you, Leon,” you promise.

As you speak, he undoes your bra and tosses it somewhere in the office. Then, he drags his fingers across the swell of your breasts. He circles your sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing the slowly hardening buds.

Your breath hitches, arousal pulsing in your cunt, “Leon...”

“Bet I can make you come from this,” he husks, “make a complete mess of you from just teasing your tits.”

Your spine arches, pressing up into his hands, “Ahh, they’re too sensitive.”

Leon completely ignores you and tugs your nipples gently, softly tweaking them before soothing them with slow drags of his index fingers.

Panting, your hands twist in the fabric of his shirt. Your clit throbs with every brush against your nipples, but you can’t stop yourself from pressing up into every touch.

Everything that Leon’s doing is making more slick pool in your panties. You’re so wet, it’s seeping into where Leon’s slacks are pressed against your pussy. You can feel the hard press of his cock against you and it sends a thrill up your spine knowing you’re the cause.

“So eager for me, honey,” he teases, voice pitched low, “I want you to take your clothes off.”

“Yes, sir,” you nervously agree, shimmying out of your blouse and skirt quickly.

“Leave the panties on for now,” his dark eyes locked onto your white panties, nearly transparent from how wet they’ve become.

Settling down on Leon, you straddle his thighs, your legs dangling off the sides of the chair. You bring your arms up to tangle your fingers in his hair. You give a small tug and roll your hips down against the outline of Leon’s hard cock. In retaliation, Leon gives your nipples a sharp tug then tweaks them as you writhe in his grasp.

“Look how wet you are, honey,” he groans, gaze drawn to the slick dripping from your panties, “so fucking sexy.”

Your eyes droop in pleasure at those words a low sigh leaving your lips.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” Leon growls out, letting his gaze roam across your swollen nipples up to your dazed expression, “always so sweet, making me want to do the worst things to you.”

“Yeah?” You whimper.

“Want you under my desk at the next conference call, sucking my cock while I’m trying to work,” he drags one of his hands from your chest up to your lips; he slips first two fingers into your mouth.

“Actually just want you in here on your knees at my beck and call. Just keep the door locked and nobody’ll know my little secretary is sucking off her boss during work hours,” he presses his fingers deeper into your mouth.

You whine and suckle on them softly. He pulls them out with a soft pop.

“Touch me, please, sir,” you whisper as he drags those fingers down to your puffy nipples.

Leon sucks a hard nipple into his mouth as his right hand teases across the other with quick flicks of his damp fingers. He swaps sides, his gaze watching you bite your lip and toss your head back at the pleasure. Pulling away a little, Leon grabs each breast and presses them inward. He runs his tongue from one nipple to the other more easily, suckling them until you squirm in his lap.

“You’re gonna be working a lot of overtime, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, “my own personal hole to use when I want.”

You keen high in your throat, “Sir!”

Leon groans low in his chest and rolls his hips upward to grind his cock against your hot wet cunt, nearly jostling you from his lap. In the motion, Leon’s sharp teeth tugs on a nipple earning a breathy sigh from your lips. He swaps to the other nipple, using his teeth so you’ll reward him with more of those sounds. After repeatedly teasing each nipple with his teeth, you tug at his hair in a silent plea to slow down. He eases off from biting to soft, gentle sucks.

“Love your tits, baby,” he mouths at your nipples, “been wanting to taste these nipples since I started working here.”

You cry out at the hot, wet suction of Leon’s mouth on your sore nipples. Your back curves forward to press your chest closer to his hungry teeth and tongue. You tangle your fingers further in his hair to have something to hold onto. Grinding your hips down, you feel more than hear him moan. You repeat the motion only this time your clit grinds against Leon’s slacks, earning a low cry of want.

“Leon,” you whimper.

He only hums in reply as he keeps up the hot suction on each hardened nub. You try rolling your hips again only to be stopped by a strong grip on your waist.

“You only get to cum from this,” Leon rumbles, voice deep as his tongue lashes against your abused nipple, “be a good girl for me or you won’t get anything.”

You mewl, clit pulsing in arousal, “I’ll be good, sir, I promise.”

He moves your hands to drape across his broad shoulders, “Don’t let your hands drop below my shoulders. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

A sharp tug of teeth on your nipple has you arching in pleasurable pain. Your hands slide up into his hair again to hold him in place, worshiping your chest.

“So perfect,” Leon murmurs, lazily mouthing his way up to your neck.

“So sweet for me,” he speaks against your skin, gently kissing across your collar bones before pulling away.

You feel dizzy and aroused, tugging Leon’s hair to pull him into a soft kiss. He groans low in his chest, pressing you harder against him as he licks into your mouth. He teasingly nips at your bottom lip, sucking on it gently before slipping his tongue further in. You moan in response, loving the feel of his slick tongue teasing your own. His hands came up and grip your hair, tilting your head at an angle where he can kiss you even deeper than before.

Before long the kiss became sloppy and wet, but neither of you really care. You can’t stop whining in pleasure as Leon fucks into your mouth, tongue hot as it teases your own. Chest rumbling in pleasure, Leon draws your tongue into his mouth to suck on it greedily. You slip your tongue away to pull his plump bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling gently before softly sucking. You drag your teeth aggressively against Leon’s lip, tongue following in silent apology for the rough treatment.

Leon growls and pulls back far enough for you to let his lip go with a small pout. His cock twitches at how debauched you look. Pupils blown wide with lust, lips kiss swollen. He moves his hands from your hair to grip your hips. You know his hold’s tight enough to bruise but you only moan in appreciation. You dip your head down to recapture his lips, but he pulls back so your mouths only brush across each other.

You whimper at Leon withholding his lips from you.

“I want to hear how you sound once you cum,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours tantalizingly.

Fingers begin to roughly pinch and rub your swollen, sore nipples. His dark blue eyes never leave yours as you edge closer and closer to orgasm, your cunt copiously dribbling slick.

“I’m so close, Leon,” you whimper, trying your best not to grind down.

Leon smirks, “Guess I should slow down, huh?”

His fingers lightly tease over the hard peaks. His gaze drops from yours to take in the swollen nipples his fingers are touching. He groans aloud as he can’t deny himself another taste. You grip his head as Leon eagerly laps at your nipples, running his tongue across each one before gently biting.

“Please,” you beg, “Leon!”

Leon bites down harder on your left nipple as he gives the right a sharp twist. Your eyes roll back in your head as Leon gets even more aggressive. Harsh bites followed by a hot soothing tongue has your cunt dripping and needy.

“Like it rough, baby?”

You only moan wantonly in reply as Leon never lets up the assault on your abused chest. You continue to gasp and moan in the empty office.

Leon’s being so rough on you and you love it. Want him to pin you down right here and now. Make you cum all over yourself. Make you take his thick cock over and over.

Leon pulls away with a growl, pupils blown, “Honey, you can’t say things like that.”

You suddenly realize you had spoken out loud— babbling, just spouting out whatever crossed your mind. You’re so far gone now, high on arousal.

“I-I can’t help it,” you pant, “it’s so good, sir.”

“I know, my slutty little secretary just can’t help herself,” he pulls away from your chest, “she’s just gagging for her boss’ dick, right?”

You whimper, back arching, “N-no, I’m—“

“Shhh,” he thumbs open the button on his slacks, “was gonna wait but you need it more than I thought.”

He presses the fabric down until he frees his cock. He tugs your panties to the side and presses the fat head of his dick inside your wet hole.

“Was gonna make you cum from your tits but I think this might be a bit better, huh,” he grins, eyes dark and mean.

He doesn’t give you anytime to adjust and fucks up into you, grabbing your hips to pull you down at the same time. You scream from the too much feeling in your spasming cunt.

“Oh,” he groans, “tight as a fucking virgin.”

He smacks your ass with a condescending laugh, “Did I pop your cherry, sweetheart?”

Crying now, you shake your head no.

“Aww,” he mockingly pouts at you, “that’s too bad then.”

Without waiting for your pussy to adjust, he pulls out halfway to bully his fat cock back into your aching hole.

“Sir, please, I can’t,” your breath hitches on a cry, “s’too big. It hurts.”

“Fuck,” he pulls you down until his cock is buried deep in your pussy, “my big cock too much for this needy hole?”

You hiccup a sob, “Please, sir.”

“Mmm you’ll get used to it,” he pulls out til just the tip is teasing your hole then shoves his cock back deep inside your pussy.

You’re crying and clinging onto his shoulders, but a low heat is slowly building in your abdomen.

“There we go,” he coos, “just needed to fuck you a little first, honey.”

He stopped thrusting and you realize you’re the one grinding down onto his dick—a panting mouth, hazy eyed mess.

You whine but can’t stop your hips from rolling down onto the thick cock stretching you out so painfully.

“Good girl,” he smacks your ass again and you moan.

“You can ride this dick whenever you want, honey, just gotta ask,” he smirks, guiding your hips to fuck down harder.

“Yes, sir,” you slur, brain fuzzy from how deep he’s inside your cunt.

“Little slut,” he laughs, thumb brushing against your clit in slow circles, “cream my cock, honey. Want you squeezing on me when I breed that little pussy.”

You moan loudly, hips humping down on his cock, “Leon!”

“That’s right,” he groans low in his chest, “gonna creampie your sweet little cunt.”

His voice and hard cock, paired with the thumb on your clit, is edging you closer and closer to climax.

“Sir, ‘m close,” you pant, tears dripping from your eyes, “gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“That’s it, honey,” he tilts his head down and pulls his thumb away from your clit.

He spits on your pussy, globs of drool dripping down the hood of your clit. He brings his thumb back to rub the slippery mess over and over and over into your sensitive bud.

Your back arches, eyes rolling back, as you clamp down on his pistoning dick. Slick coats his cock as you cum, pussy walls squeezing him like a vice.

“Fuck yeah,” he chuckles, thumb still pressing into your clit, “cream my cock so I can fill up that cunt.”

Your thighs jump and twitch from overstimulation as he keeps teasing your clit and grinding his cock deep in your pussy.

“Take it, honey, fucking take it,” he grits out, snapping his hips up into your squelching hole and pumping you full of hot cum.

You moan brokenly, pussy fluttering around his throbbing cock, liking how it feels to get creampied by your boss.

He leans back into his chair with a sigh, “Damn, gotta say that’s been worth the months of us dancing around each other.”

Your head feels totally empty so you only hum in response.

“Did I fuck you dumb, sweetheart?” He smirks, tweaking your nipples making you squeal, “s’okay, we got all weekend to do this. Just need you back in business by Monday.”

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