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#its the one with two forms. i will find him and dig him out but ik thats him
eruden-writes · 2 days
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Choosing the Bear - Part 2 (Shifter x Human)
Inspired by the Man or Bear in the Woods question/meme.
First Part
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Mercy’s father, Zeke Clements, was a man about two years older than Bambi, though they’d been a part of the same graduating class. He’d been held back once in seventh grade and once in ninth grade, from what she remembered. If she recalled correctly, both times was due to the amount of fights he got into. Though she thought it had more to do with who he fought – the privileged peers and the sports stars – that had gotten him held back those particular years.
Before Bambi could say anything else, Mercy jumped between her and the bear, her arms outstretched as if to shield the creature from the woman.
“Please, don’t say anything, Mizz Bambi! He’s not a devil or a monster or anything like that, I swear!” Mercy blinked rapidly, her eyes glassy under the moonlight. She sniffed loudly, her bottom lip wobbling as she added, “Please! He’s all I got!”
Silence fell between Mercy and Bambi as the latter glanced at the bear. It hunkered down, pained tension wrought along its furry form.
“If that bear is your dad, can’t he just…” Bambi waved a hand, trying to find the right words as both the girl and bear stared at her. “Can’t he turn back into a human?”
“If he shifts back, the bullet might go somewhere vital if it didn’t go clean through,” Mercy sniffed once more as she explained, unshed tears making her voice tremble. Bambi frowned, realizing the girl must have been told or experienced this happening before to have such an answer at the ready. A twinge of guilt flickered through Bambi, recalling how the girl said Zeke was all she had.
The exhausting night was beginning to catch up to Bambi. From being kidnapped to escaping Duke to now. Everything felt unreal and that made a precursor of a headache throb at her temples. Pinching at her nose, Bambi sighed and tried to decide what to do.
What would she do if it was normal for people to shift into animals? To believe humans turned into furry brethren? Would she let a child inspect her father’s gunshot wound?
No, she would not.
With a sigh, Bambi’s hand lowered as she inclined her head to Mercy. “If your dad is okay with it, I’ll take a look at it?”
The bear – Zeke, Bambi reminded herself despite the surrealness of the thought – gave what sounded like a grudging grunt, to which Mercy translated, “He says fine.”
Bambi swallowed as the hulking behemoth turned toward her, still on its – his – rear legs. She took an awkward step closer, as if testing to see if he was simply trying to trick her. When the bear held still, she closed the distance further. Red stained and matted the white fur on his side, under the arm that had struck out at Duke. The coppery tang of blood thickened the closer she got to Zeke, mingling with a sweet woodsy musk.
“I’m going to check to see if it went through, alright?” Bambi heard herself say as she reached and grabbed the bear’s right arm, making certain it stayed aloft as she moved around its side. Her fingers deftly felt through its fur, against its side, tracking bullet and shrapnel. Beneath her touch, the bear’s muscles felt tense and she worried he was in far more pain than he let on.
Her concern flared when she realized there was no exit wound.
“Well, shit. It didn’t go through. We’ll have to dig the fragments out, unless you got a medicine man you’d rather go to?” Bambi peered around the bear’s arm, eyebrow quirking. “Or maybe you prefer a vet?”
The bear gave a disgruntled snort, pressing their held-aloft arm down against Bambi as if to squish her down. The motion was a familiar one, she realized, as memories of a more human-looking Zeke playfully using shorter peers as armrests flickered in her thoughts.
Bambi scoffed, ducking away from bear Zeke’s arm to turn to Mercy. “Is your home close to here?”
“It’s a ways off…” The girl’s worried gaze flicked from the woman to her bear father.
Undeterred, Bambi’s mind traipsed to the next possible solution. “Do you have a first aid kit in your pack?”
Mercy brightened up and nodded as she swung her backpack off her shoulder, quickly rummaging through it. Soon, she procured a kit, which Bambi soon realized was a typical Hartwell hodgepodge of first aid supplies and more. Thankfully, there was a headlamp, alcohol wipes, gloves, tweezers, and – if things got rough in cleaning the wound – a pocketknife.
It took some positioning, but soon Bambi was standing beside a seated white bear, headlamp strapped to her head and bright light pouring over the wound. Mercy lingered at the edges of Bambi’s vision, but she didn’t have the heart to tell the girl to back off further. She had a right to be nervous.
Under the headlamp, the red blood stood out in stark contrast to the white fur. Despite years of handling her own children’s boo-boos and even some of Duke’s own ill-though injuries, Bambi’s stomach churned lightly. Steeling herself, she snapped a pair of gloves onto her hands and began working – as gently as possible – with the tweezers.
“Looks like you packed on some pounds since high school, Zeke,” Bambi heard herself say, more to distract herself than the bear flinching under her penetrating tweezers.
He growled in response, though that may have been because a particularly large shard of bullet had come free with a squelch.
“Mhmn, well, parenthood will do that to you. I got two of my own, and I’m sure that shows,” Bambi laughed, patting the curve of her side with the less bloodied glove, illustrating how much softer and squishier she had become since high school. “I suppose Mercy has told you about Casey, though.”
The two girls hung out a lot and Bambi had hosted a number of sleepovers that Mercy, along with other girls, attended. Though Mercy’s own home had been oddly off-limits for hangouts. Bambi supposed she could guess why that was, after seeing Zeke like this.
A gnarl of a grumble was Zeke’s response, to which Bambi couldn’t begin to parse.
“Mercy’s always a joy to have ‘round. She’s sweet and well-mannered. Well, as well-mannered as kids can be,” she continued on, undeterred by the conversationally-stilted partner. She’d had plenty of years navigating single-sided conversations with Duke. “She’s been raised well.”
Something in Zeke’s body language softened, or so Bambi thought. There was no time to dwell on the realization as her medical auto-pilot trudged forward, “I’m not finding anything else, so I’m going to use the alcohol wipes now. Might sting some.”
And once again, the bear tensed as Bambi brushed the wipes over the wound. Her gaze angled up to his maw, watching how he clenched his teeth. A slight expulsion of air hissed between his fearsome sharp canines. Guilt swam up Bambi’s thoughts, but she had little change to apologize when Mercy popped up at her elbow. “Is he gonna be okay, Mizz Bambi?”
“I think so. I think I cleaned out all the bullet bits and sanitized it the best I can with what’s here,” she answered as she pressed her hand to the bear’s side, trying to feel if here were any errant shards left. For the first time, Bambi tilted her head full up toward the bear. “How do you feel?”
It was strange to be asking a polar bear such a question. Just looking at the furry head with its dark eyes and dark nose, knowing the heft and weight of its arm alone, she couldn’t believe he wasn’t just a bear. But there was something else there in its eyes, she thought. A more familiar understanding as it cocked its head, the round ears twitching a little straighter.
Letting out a low chesty huff, the bear shifted slightly, as if testing a strained muscle. He made another sound to which Mercy piped up with concern, “You sure?”
There was another chesty rumble before the bear melted in front of Bambi’s eyes. Though melt was, perhaps, too much. The bear shrank, muscles compacted and bones shifted. A sound unlike anything Bambi could described paired with the change.
With wide eyes, Bambi watched as fur crept to a more human formation; a scattering of hair across dark muscular arms and a barrel chest, then a trail of hair that dived down a rounded plush abdomen and dipped somewhere Bambi’s eyes shouldn’t linger. But getting into trouble was a bad habit and old habits die hard.
“You’re naked,” Bambi gasped, jerking her eyes away from the nude male specimen in front of her.
“You ‘n I both know you ain’t no innocent, Bambi Barker,” rasped Zeke, his voice as deep and full of gravel as she remembered. She leveled a glare on the man, but he cocked his head and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I sure hope you ain’t still Missus Walker.”
“Bite your tongue, Zeke Clements! It’s been Barker for a couple of years now. You should know that. The town hasn’t grown that big.” The fact Duke had been chasing her through the woods with a shot gun should have been another hint, but she set that aside for the moment.
Bambi faintly realized Zeke had a thick curly beard – something she had missed when staring at the rest of him, she realized – which made the flush on her cheeks tingle with more than annoyance. The hair on his head was also white, like his body hair, she noticed.
Her eyes followed the bounce of his textured curls, now an enticing voluminous mass that haloed around his head and fell down the back of his shoulders. In high school, he’d kept his hair relatively short. Not so short she wasn’t familiar with his curls, but definitely shorter than he now wore. Students of color had always been hit with dress code violations for their hair, she recalled.
Mercy trotted over to a tree, where a backpack Bambi had not previously noticed sat. Grabbing the pack, Mercy shoved it at her dad and shot him a peeved look. He held the bag in front of himself, offering some blessed level of censor as he pulled out clothes. “I keep to myself these days.”
“I suppose that’s easy if you hibernate most the winter,” mused Bambi as she turned off the headlamp and leaned against a tree. She watched as he pulled on a pair of jeans, catching sight of his bullet wound. Amazingly, despite shrinking from bear to human, the injury didn’t look terrible. In fact, if Bambi didn’t know better, she would have thought he was shot a few days ago, rather than less than an hour ago.
Could he heal quicker than humans? Wasn’t that a trait in werewolves or something?
As Bambi wondered about the mechanics of lycanthropy to – what would it be called for a bear shifter? ursathropy? – she missed a muscle ticking in Zeke’s jaw. “Mercy, you should go back to the truck.”
Focusing back in on the other two, Bambi noticed Mercy seemed about ready to argue, but Zeke’s cross expression and his glare made her shoulders slump. Without another word, she stomped back through the forest the way she came, her own pack once again hanging from her shoulders.
Quietly, Bambi watched as the girl retreated, hoping she didn’t have far to go in the dark. Although, that made Bambi wonder if Mercy inherited any of Zeke’s furry genes, if that was what it was, and if she happened to see better in the dark than her own peers. Faintly, she tried to file through her memories of the girl, but nothing odd seemed to jump out.
Instead of trawling through memories, Bambi turned her attention back to Zeke. “Why’d you send her away?”
“Because we need to discuss a few things,” he replied, turning fully toward her after watching his daughter disappear through the trees. He crossed his arms over his chest, muscles flexing along his shoulders as he leered down at Bambi.
For a brief second, she realized she was alone with a man who could turn into a bear. Staring up at Zeke, still a behemoth as a human though smaller than the bear he had been, Bambi realized not an ounce of fear stirred in her chest. All she could see was the young man he’d been in high school. Hot-headed, oddly sweet, gruff.
It was probably exhaustion, she thought. She wasn’t afraid because she was just bone tired. Also, she was fighting against the shock and surreality of everything that had happened over the last few hours. From Duke’s harebrained scheme to the revelation about Zeke.
Yeah, that had to be it, she decided, as she stared silently up at the intimidating man.
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hiemaldesirae · 5 months
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old art dump 2 (i ramble in tags)
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mydearlybeloathed · 4 months
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── 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you just can't get to sleep thanks to a terrible rainstorm terrorizing the ship. luckily, your tossing and turning inspired nami with an idea: just go sleep with the swordsman.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k
don' ask about the aesthetic k? k 💙
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With how the hail storm rattled against the hull of the ship, and how the vessel careened on the waves, you were at a loss as to how Nami was fast asleep already.
The crew had settled down for sleep hours ago, the laughter and teasing from dinner falling into a soft silence draping over each and every one of you—well, except you, that is.
Even after months at sea, the incessant rocking had you curling into yourself, headache blooming under the skin of your temples. Groaning, you rolled around on your sheets, burying your face in your pillow as you shoved the blanket off your shoulders and down your body. Chill air hit you instantly, a contrast to the sweat rising from your skin. All you wanted was sleep, but your ears rang with the sound of rainfall and the far off thunder rumbling through the sky.
You tossed and turned again and again, rest ever so far away and the sway of the Going Merry making kept your mind alert with all its tilts and jumps. Yet another grunt of frustration huffed from your lips, and Nami finally sprang up, glaring at you from across the cabin.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, her eyes heavy and her annoyance high.
Great. Now Nami was upset, which usually lasted a whole day if you were unlucky. You didn’t bother turning back to look at her, digging yourself deeper into your blanket. “Sorry…”
She sighed and rubbed at her cheek, gaze drifting over your exhausted form, taking in what she could in the dark. Settling back down, Nami said what she’d been thinking for the past two hours of listening to you loll around restlessly. “Just go sleep with Zoro.”
A beat passed, your eyes slowly opening as you tried to convince yourself you’d heard her wrong. You flipped around and gaped at the girl slinking into her sheets with a smirk you would catch through any dark room. “What? Why would I—Why would you—Nami!”
She chuckled darkly, her bright eyes finding yours. Nami propped her head up on her hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time, right?”
Trying and failing to make a comeback, you opened and closed your mouth like a gaping fish, settling on crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s none of your business.”
“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “But I’ve got dawn watch and am in desperate need of sleep.” All you did was stare at her, your glare fading. Nami rolled onto her back, offering into the silence, “It’s not like he’ll turn you away.”
You tried so very hard to let her logic roll off your shoulders, but it was cold (Zoro was warm) and you were tired (Zoro was a good napping buddy). As appealing as the idea was, you didn’t want to bother him. Zoro was probably just getting back from his night watch, Sanji heading up to the deck in his wake. Zoro wouldn’t turn you away, but he might grumble at you, and sometimes that was worse.
“Stop overthinking,” Nami’s voice whispered through a hiss. “He likes you.”
She was just trying to give you heart palpitations saying stuff like that. “Does not.”
“Mhmm. Get some sleep… with Zoro.”
You threw your pillow across the room, missing her bed by a longshot. You could throw pillows and shout whispered words at her all you wanted—it didn’t change that she had a point.
It wouldn’t be the first time you crawled into Zoro’s hammock late at night, seeking shelter from sleeplessness that seemed to miraculously melt in his embrace. Nami might’ve been right; Zoro might like you, at least more than he liked anybody else. It was confusing most days, but your mind was so mushy with fatigue you didn’t bother running over the finer details of your affections for the swordsman.
You puffed out a huff, eliciting a growl from the dark, “Go. Or neither of us will sleep.”
“Fine.” You threw off your blanket and marched out of the cabin before you could lose your nerve, trudging through the nearly pitch black hall of the Merry. 
You yelped as you tripped over a discarded broom, cursing into the night as you kicked it aside and kept on toward the boy’s cabin. As soon as you laid eyes on the closed door, your footsteps faltered, heart stuttering. 
The ship leaned on the waves and sent you teetering into the wall, and the decision was suddenly easy. You inched the door open gently, wincing at the momentary creak, and slipped inside. 
The boys’ cabin always had a… unique scent to it. Somewhere between burning socks and musk is how Nami described it. Honestly (now, you would never tell her this), you just thought it smelled like Zoro. Though Zoro might’ve been slightly less odorous on good days, you mused.
The swordsman of your infatuation lay in a swaying hammock tied up between two support beams holding up the ceiling. A flash of lightning illuminated his peaceful face for a brief moment, and the room was back to black. 
Collecting your wits, you approached him slowly, careful not to step on any of the clutters the boys left lying about. Lip pinched between your teeth, you stepped around a crate of slingshot ammo Usopp had crafted, catching your foot on the slingshot itself and jumping out of the way. 
You swept the room fretfully, yet no one stirred, the usual snores rising and falling. A sigh puffed form your chest as you turned back to Zoro’s hammock, only to lock eyes with the stoic swordsman as he gazed blearily up at you.
Lurching back, you calmed your racing heart and huffed at him. “You scared me.”
Zoro leaned up on his elbows, confused. “You scared me.” His gaze flickered all over your face. “What’re you doing?”
You fisted your hands, feeling like a deer at headlights, and blurted, “Nami kicked me out.”
Zoro’s brows drew instantly. “What?” He rose halfway when you hand found his chest, gently pushing him back down.
“I mean,” you amended. “I couldn’t sleep, and she got tired of me rolling around…” Bashful in how you averted your eyes, swaying on your feet, “I… sleep better with you. Y’know?”
Not even a second later he tugged on your arm to draw you closer, shuffling over to offer you some room. You smiled softly, falling into the space beside him, molding right into his side. “Yeah, I know.”
Your face warmed, your heart swelled, and you rested your head on the rigid outline of his shoulder, adjusting to find a comfortable place. Zoro’s arm slid under you and curled you further into his side, a sigh pulling from his chest, his muscles literally relaxing under each of your touches. 
There wasn’t a name for what you and Zoro were, not yet anyway, and somehow you were fine with that. He was there, and you were there, and that felt like enough. For now, you let your eyes finally give way to exhaustion, the pelting of the rain growing fainter and fainter. 
Nami was a tease, but she made some good points a lot of the time. You’d have to thank her in the morning, after you finally got to sleep in the arms of your swordsman.
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unrefinedmusings · 1 year
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sweet, sweet sugar
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pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
summary: meeting a man in a bar and trying to determine what about him is so damn alluring. it doesn't really matter though, it ends well for the both of you. part 2: snooze
warnings: smut, explicit sex, explicit language, age gap (reader is mid 20s, Joel is 36) riding, truck sex, nasty talk, MDNI, 18+
a/n: i love him, your honor. i will protect this tired dilf with my life. might expand on this, if so it'll be fluffy/smutty (no angst because the show is already enough pain for me)
---
It was his voice, you think. You had just relocated to Texas and were new enough to be drawn in by that deep Southern accent when he introduced himself.
Hi, uh, I’m Joel. Mind if I buy ya’ a drink?
Maybe it was the age difference. It wouldn’t be a first for you and the few strands of gray in his hair did make you a little weak in the knees.
It could’ve been his arms. Bumping against the hard muscles of his bicep as the bar stools you two were sitting on inevitably wobbled while you talked. Placing a light touch on his forearm when the liquid courage of your second drink kicked in, before your fingers made their way to his indecently thick ones to intertwine. Just the rough touch of his hands was enough to make you shiver.
His eyes were definitely a factor. Puppy brown orbs that sparkled brighter than starlight when he laughed, even under the dim lights of the bar. How they grew dark, almost black, when you leaned in close enough for him to catch a whiff of your perfume, the faintest hint of sweet vanilla lingering in the space between you two.
Or maybe it was just him. All of him. The way he hummed along to the country western songs playing through the bar’s speakers. The way he spoke to you with affection in his voice despite his gruff exterior. The way he talked about his Sarah: the pride while mentioning an A plus social studies paper followed by the anxiety while asking if he was talking about her too often. 
As if loving his daughter too much could scare you away. 
His scruffy beard and charm, his bad humor, his dad humor, his smile.
And the way he called you sugar, like that’s what you were to him. Nothing but sweetness and all too appetizing. Like he’d drink you up with his coffee every morning if you let him.
Your wandering hand made its way down to his thigh, resting just above his knee. He paused mid sentence and for a moment you worried you were being too forward. Your eyes meet his in a heated stare.
“You tryna’ misbehave there, sugar?”
You were and it landed you in Joel’s backseat, laid down with his body pinning yours. He’s kissing you. He’s still kissing you, hasn’t stopped since he pressed you up against his truck in the dark and nearly empty parking lot. He’s on your lips, until you have to pull away for air when he moves down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking along the way.
Your legs part for him, wrapping around his hips to dig your heels into the backs of his firm thighs. His hands find their way under your shirt, calloused fingertips forming gooseflesh across your skin before pulling the material up and over your head. He palms your heaving breasts, letting out a low groan at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands, before working his hands around to the clasp. Any restraint he might have had was tossed into the front seat with your bra.
Now he’s desperate, he’s hungry. 
His mouth is on you, all over. His tongue licking at the marks he left on your neck and chest, his teeth making more down your torso. Lips wrap around your nipple and you arch into his suckling, letting him consume even more of you. Every one of his filthy, reverent kisses is more fuel for the fire growing in you. You tug on his dark locks when he reaches the top of your skirt, running his tongue along the line where fabric meets skin.
“J-Joel, please,” you beg, surprising yourself at how wrecked you sound already.
“I wanna taste ya’, sweet thing,” he teases, looking up at you with mischief in his eyes.
Moving his head down between your legs, Joel places sloppy kisses up the inside of your thighs. You watch him with heavy eyes, shuddering as the coarse hair of his beard grazes your sensitive skin. He brings his face to the crotch of your panties, nose nudging your clit, before taking a deep inhale. He licks at you through the soft lace before pulling it off entirely. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he rasps, the heat of his breath against your cunt enough to make your hips buck. Unbothered by your writhing, Joel wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you open for him before licking a stripe through your slick folds. 
He groans at the taste of you. “Such a sweet pussy, so goddamn wet for me too.”
He dives in, circling your clit with his tongue before plunging inside you. Your thighs try to shut at the sensations, but his hands tighten their grip to hold you in place. You’re melting into his mouth and onto the seats, the fogged up windows an indicator of just how hot everything is right now. 
Then his thick fingers are inside you, thrusting deep and hitting that spot you always have trouble reaching dead on. His mouth wraps around your clit, sucking on it like hard candy.
“Gon’ get a cavity from all this sugar,�� he mumbles into your pussy, and the rumble of his laugh vibrates through you.
He thinks he’s so goddamn funny…
“Oh fuck,” you cry out.
It hits you like a rocket. He curls his fingers just right and you’re seeing stars, being pulled up and away into the atmosphere. He doesn’t stop drinking you in until you’ve floated back down to Earth. 
Insatiable.
Your eyes are closed, but you feel his soft lips kissing your neck. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “Did so good for me, such a good girl.”
Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.
It’s like a trigger. All the satisfaction from your climax faded and was replaced by a deep need to be full of him, to take him in and again until you fell into the night sky together.
“Fuck me p-please, please Joel, I need it,” you whine, hands clinging to his broad shoulders.
“Oh sugar,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”
Joel uses one hand to pull you into his lap and straddle his thighs, while the other unbuckles his belt. You scramble to undo his zipper, tug his pants and boxers down, and unveil his—
Oh fuck.
Whatever it was before, it’s definitely his huge dick now. You let out a whine when your fingers wrap around the base without being able to fully encircle it. He rolls a condom down over himself before gripping your hips and guiding you to hover over the flushed red tip. Your forehead is pressed against his as you sink down, gasping at the stretch.
“Good girl, that’s it. It’s big, ain’t it?”
You huff against his cheek, “S’ big.”
“You can take it. Gonna take all of my cock, sugar.”
You do. Your toes curl and you feel like he’s splitting you open, but you take all of him. He rubs circles on your clit, making you gush around him and relax enough to move. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you start rocking your hips and slowly finding a rhythm. Every thrust is electric and the sweet sounds of how wet you are fill the car.
You’re clamped around him, raising and falling harder, faster. Whimpers spilling out of your lips as Joel thrusts into you, meeting your hips with his. You were close, your climax was racing towards you when his thumb found your clit again. Just a few touches to the bundle of nerves and you were toppling over the edge, head thrown back then falling limp into his neck. You shake in his arms as he continues to fuck you in his lap, quickly reaching his own release.
“Fuckin’ goddamnit, sugar,” he pants into your ear as he finishes. 
He keeps you like that, strong arms holding your body close against his as you both catch your breath. You have no objections, nuzzling further into him and gently carding your fingers through his hair. It’s been a few minutes before he breaks the silence.
“Sugar?”
You hum and smile into his skin as a response.
“Could I get your number and, uh, maybe we do this again? Dinner too?”
He had the audacity to sound bashful while his cock was still inside you. You look up to see a pink tint to his cheeks, and you have to answer with a kiss. Slow and sweet.
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💕💕💕 Thank you for reading 💕💕💕
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aluciahaz · 3 months
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Mommy kink x reader fix for luci pls, idc the circumstances, I’m desperate here.
arent we all 😔 here u go!! it was pretty fun writing this, i love METAPHORS!!!!
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touch of temptation
—lucifer x gn!reader
—includes : sub!lucifer, dom!reader, mommy kink, edging
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lucifer’s been alone for quite some time now. yet, when you came around, you made sure to change that immediately.
of course, due to the absence of affection for years, he’s stuck to you like glue, always perking up when he sees you enter a room and running toward you with his stupid little grin.
albeit, adorable stupid little grin.
his desire for touch was not only apparent during daily life, always hooking his arm around you or poking you in jest, but in the nightlife as well.
lucifer was needy. desperate. his longing for touch was one you indulged in without question much of the time, yet some nights the two of you agreed upon abstaining him from such wants. he was the king of hell after all, of course, he’d be a little freaky.
which is why he was sobbing underneath your maddening touch, his head falling back as he cries in dismay from his inability to finish due to your quick reactions whenever he’d get close, pulling your hand away just in time to elicit a noisy whine from the king.
“l-let—me cum, mommy, please!” he wails as you drive into him, pushing him to the brink of insanity as your hand returns to his cock. he bucks up into your hand wildly, only to have his hips held down with a stern push.
“not yet, baby. stay strong for me,” you coo, yet your soft tone goes against your actions, sharp, fast, and most importantly, ruthless.
he snivels before taking in a deep, shuttering breath, nodding his head weakly at your request.
“o-okay! i’ll tr—AH!” his fingers dig into your skin, grasping onto your back like his life depended on it.
and it only gets rougher when you let go of his cock.
the scream of frustration that ripped from his throat was adorable, considering how it would get interrupted by his choking wails. you can’t help but place a kiss on top of his forehead, soothing him just a bit. he always melts at the slightest act of affection, it’s wonderful.
his legs wrap around your waist as though he‘s a snake trying to constrict its prey. he needed to hold onto you like this, to feel you as much as he could. you were his temptation, and he was willing to lose himself in it.
“pl-please please! mommy, i need—! ngh—f-fuck!” he pleads aimlessly, finding himself lost in his seemingly endless pleasure.
“use your words, baby,” you tell him, knowing fully well as you thrust faster that he would be unable to form a single sentence.
“ha—i, you—so goodwait—AH! c-can’t think-!” the fallen angel seemed to find his place back in heaven, considering how far up his head was in the clouds. but, he’s brought back down to hell as your hand finds its place around his shaft again, making him jolt in shock.
he whines louder and louder, tears never stopping as he takes what you give in full stride, never trying to go against your earlier command.
he was as sweet as an apple and red as one too with a never faltering blush across his face and chest. you couldn’t help but take a bite, his neck being the perfect area for a mark.
the shaky moans that leave him are beautiful, and with how well he was taking all of your love, you just had to give him his reward.
“you’re such a good boy,” you huff out a chuckle as you hear him whine in delight, soaking up the praise needily.
“you can cum for me now, my love,” you coo, drinking in his face of pure gratitude as he hears you.
“c-can i? can i re—ah—! really?” he asks as he cries in joyous disbelief, looking at you with wide, tear-filled eyes.
“yes, baby,” you say gently, and without a second’s hesitation, he shudders and screams in mind-breaking ecstasy, the horns on his head slowly peeking from his head as he finishes.
“th-thank—! thank—! thank y-you—mh—mommy!” he wails, his eyes rolling to the back of his head briefly before slowly looking back up at you with a dazed look.
his legs still tremble around your waist before slipping down to the bed, completely exhausted. you take your time to care for him, cleaning and making sure to cuddle your little touch-starved lover as quickly as you could.
he’s already asleep in your arms in the first few seconds, snoring lightly. you kiss the back of his neck delicately before heading off to rest as well.
and it would be peaceful until morning, where, like every morning, he would whine and clutch onto you to make sure you wouldn’t leave the bed, never able to fulfill his endless hunger for your touch.
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tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist
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215-luv · 2 years
Text
HQ BOYS ADORING YOU
KUROO: “who’s the best person in the world?” your boyfriend teases with a smirk on his face, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair as he stares at you adoringly—and it’s so obvious—the way he looks at you will never go unnoticed by anyone as he gazes at you as if you’re the only precious thing in the world. he tucks a strand behind your ear and his eyes seem to glimmer even more, “look at you, i can’t believe you’re actually mine.”
OIKAWA: “my sweetheart,” he coos, mumbling out his compliments to you against your neck that’s followed by soft pecks of lingering kisses, and he breathily chuckles everytime he does so, as if he’s been struck by cupid’s bow each second he’s in your presence. “my sweet angel.”
SAKUSA: “you know,” his words come out in a low murmur as one of his hands find place on the side of your head, letting his thumb gently rub itself against the softness of your skin. “you’re the best thing that has happened to me.” he admits, and a rare smile forms on his face as he lets his eyes find art upon your features.
AKAASHI: “i’ll tell you a secret.” he whispers on the side of your ear as you lay on him with your back pressed against his chest. you sense his lips nearing your ear, his warm breath sending shivers through your spine. “i think, i’m inlove with you. too inlove. but maybe not just too inlove, maybe i’m actually head over heels for you, knees weakened, heart beating rapidly, fingers itching to hold yours—or maybe it’s just that i love you too much that words couldn’t measure how much i love you to the bottom of my heart. and i think i could never stop myself from adoring you even more.” he whispers with a smile gracing upon his features, teasingly blowing on your ear with softness. “that’s my secret.”
ATSUMU: everytime he looks at you, he couldn’t stop the lovesick grin forming upon his face. you watch as he bites back the obvious smile, his upper teeth fighting its’ place as it digs itself on his bottom lip, and he could only apologize half heartedly as he buries his face onto the pillows while his hand remains on your cheek. his chuckles come out in a muffle and he feels his heart beating rapidly while you just lay there bewildered upon his questionable state. he takes a peek of you on one eye as half of his face remains buried against the pillow, and now, he couldn’t stop the grin on his face that has his teeth showing as he laughs, “god, sorry baby. you’re just so adorable it’s unbelievable. it’s actually unbelievable how someone like you is laying on my arms right now.”
BOKUTO: “you’re mine right?” he asks with a smile on his face as his arms tighten its’ hold around you. he’s being extremely giddy and clingy with you while he places playful pecks all over your face. “yes, you’re mine!” he unashamedly answers his own question in a cheer, nuzzling his cheek against yours as he pulls you against his body impossibly closer that leaves no gap between you two.
YAMAGUCHI: “you know, you make me feel scared sometimes,” he admits solemnly, his eyes drifting to look at anything but you as a sad smile appears upon his face. “i’m scared that you’ll leave me someday, in which everyday i pray that i’m good enough for you so you’ll only have to look at me and not anyone else.” he says, and after a moment, he finally has the courage to let his eyes drift to gaze upon you, eyeing you with so much affection yet sadness while his hold on your hand tightens even more as if he’s afraid to let you go. he leans closer to you and he gives you a soft peck on your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a while as his next words come out in a murmur, “that’s how much you mean to me honey.”
IWAIZUMI: he stares at your sleeping state in silence, finding comfort in the way you’re under his arms in the middle of the night as he couldn’t seem to have any plans of sleeping when you’re this beautiful under his gaze. a tiny smile graces upon his face while he intakes every feature of you. and soon enough, he couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping from his lips that leaves him to lean down to land a soft peck on the side of your head with a smile, “god, you’re the only person to make me feel this way. what the hell are you doing to me?”
USHIJIMA: couldn’t help but keep staring at you with eyes that speak more than words. his gaze never leaves you when you move at one place to another. and when you question him of his actions, he blinks at you for a moment, keeping silent. and then he finally, stoically reveals with a rare blush on his face, “i just think you’re very alluring that i couldn’t find myself to take my eyes off of you. i apologize, was i perhaps making you uncomfortable?”
KENMA: he comes to a point where he couldn’t hold himself back from being clingy for you. constantly, when he’s initiating physical contact with you he’ll tell out trivial statements such as “you’re so warm, i don’t mind using your lap as my own pillow” or “your hands. they’re nice. i should keep holding them so people can avoid touching it.” and whenever you try to contradict to his statements, he’ll only shoot back with a “but they’re mine. i thought you already knew i don’t like sharing what’s mine?”
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madschiavelique · 10 months
Note
hii i love your work!
i was wondering if you could write a sensitive fem!reader x Miguel O’Hara x Peter B smut? peter is like a soft dom and miguel is a hard dom?
miguel of course says something a little to mean while fucking her from behind, and she starts to cry and peter is all like “miguel, you made her cry”
thank you 🙏🏼
OMG anon you don't know what this did to me
you just provoked my new addiction : i want to write so much more miguel x reader x peter now i'm OBSESSED (also tumblr was kinda bugging while i tried doing this post so i hope things will be alright fdvfbsef - and this is not proofread :D)
summary : miguel made you cry because he was mean as you were eiffel towered by him and Peter B.
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, hard dom!miguel o'hara, soft dom!peter b. parker, reader being eiffel towered (i'm french and feeling very patriotic on this one🥖), miguel being a bit too mean, overstimulation, pnv sex, sodomy, no use of Y/N word count : 1,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash
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You whimpered once more, your whole body feeling electric and tired at the same time as you sank down shakily. Miguel was behind you, his warm breath landing on your ear as you felt his torso bulge against your back. Peter was facing you, kissing your shoulder as your breasts pressed against his chest.
You couldn't tell the time any more, whether it had been an hour or more that they were fucking you without stopping. Many orgasms had been reached, and your body was floating in this cloud of overstimulation. You were exhausted, at the end of your rope, with barely enough energy to lift your body and sink on both of their dicks buried in you.
Needing to regain your strength and rest both your thighs and your whole body, which had been in orgasmic succession, you rested for a moment, not moving as their two cocks stayed all warm in you.
"Did I say you could stop?" Miguel grunted against your back, his teeth grazing your skin as his hand rested on your thighs and squeezed your flesh between his massive fingers.
You let out a moan, your head falling back to rest in the crook of Miguel's neck.
"I can't," you breathed shakily, "it's too much."
You could feel the electricity coursing through your thighs, your body on fire, absolutely exhausted by the effort that had been required of you from the start.
"Come on sweetheart," Peter encouraged, caressing your cheek as he waited for you to continue. "You can do this."
You inhaled harshly, pressing down on your trembling thighs to rise again and continue. The knot forming in your body stretched from your lower stomach to the small of your back. The overload of sensation was heightening your sensitivity to the limit, both physically and mentally.
Your legs were tired, trying to bury yourself properly on them. One of your hands had found its place on Peter's shoulder, the other holding Miguel's thigh and allowing you to hold on better as you went back and forth.
"Is that the best you can do?" Miguel grumbled against your ear, both your faces covered in a light sheen of sweat.
One of his hands went to your hip, digging his fingers into your skin as he pushed even deeper and you let out a moan. The fatigue was getting hard to handle, all the sensations mixed together, their breaths, their voices, their words...
"If you can't do it right, I'll find someone who can".
This sentence stung you in the chest. All you were doing was trying to do your best for them, to make them feel good and have your share in it too. Were you really that incapable? Were you so incompetent that you didn't do anything for them? Were you really that useless?
"Watch your mouth," Peter warned, not necessarily condoning the crude words his partner had just uttered.
But it was too late, your heart clenched, your throat constricted as a ball formed in it. Your eyes burned, you would have preferred not to cry, but your nose stung so much in your abstinence that you ended up breaking. When the tears came, you lowered your head against Peter's shoulder, and they flowed hard and committed.
"Hey what's that," he said, feeling beads running down his skin that he knew wasn't sweat.
You didn't dare look at them, your hips still moving, your shame and discouragement oppressing your chest.
"Look at me," he asked softly as his hand came to rest on your cheek.
You looked up, your eyes unable to find his. But he placed his index finger like a hook under your chin to raise it, and your wet eyes met his.
"Oh no," he said, mouth half open, "bunny, are you crying?"
You immediately felt Miguel tense up, his hand suddenly much softer against your skin.
"What?" he asked, gently sliding his hand over your jaw in the hope of turning you towards him and seeing your face.
But you pulled away from his touch and buried your face in Peter's shoulder, not feeling strong enough to face Miguel's gaze.
"Miguel, you made her cry," Peter said, stroking your hair gently as Miguel's mouth fell open in surprise.
He hadn't realised the impact words like that could have on you, especially in this context. You had been so good to them, and you still are, their absolute dream. You are perfection itself, and Miguel would obviously never want to replace you with anyone else.
"Muñeca..." he murmured against your back as he came to kiss you tenderly, his hand caressing your hip.
Your tears were still flowing, your back shaking with little jolts of heartache and pleasure.
"Mírame," he asked gently, kissing the back of your neck.
You breathed in, lifting your wet cheeks from Peter's shoulder and turning to meet Miguel's face.
His eyes instantly became pained, pained to have been the one to cause this state. He would never, ever wish for anyone but you. He caressed your cheek, kissing the corner of your eyes and licking your wet skin.
"Please forgive me, amor," he whispered against your skin, "you know I never meant these words, right?"
Your chin trembled and Peter put his hand on your other cheek to wipe it clean.
"You're the only one we want," Miguel assured you, his eyes fixed on yours. "You're the most perfect thing that ever happened to us, and we would never want anybody else than you."
You sniffled, the sweet words he gave you pressing into your heart like a comforting balm. You loved them both so dearly, and it felt good to know that they did too.
"How are you feeling right now?" Peter asked, kissing your cheek softly.
You breathed in, still feeling the exhaustion weighing on your thighs and body.
"Like everything's too much," you managed to whisper, sniffing and swallowing.
"Do you think you can come just once more for us, nena?" Miguel asked, kissing your shoulder gently and stroking your thigh with his thumb.
The knot in your stomach was still tight, and it was almost painful not to get any relief from it.
"Mhm," you nodded as you pushed on your thighs again to raise them up.
Miguel's hands both came to grip your hip to guide you, helping you to sink and rise much more easily and sparing you a little pain in your thighs.
"You're so good for us," Peter breathed, kissing the crook of your neck lovingly, "you're doing such a good job, taking us like that."
Miguel kept pace with your hips, neither urging you on nor slowing you down. Both their warm breaths landed on your skin, whispering sweet, soft words that softened your heart and enveloped it in adoration.
Your moans began to multiply, vibrating in your throat a little more as you finally approached orgasm.
"Come for us, muñeca" encouraged Miguel.
And you came, your whole body shaking as if a bolt of lightning had struck your core and spread seismic waves of pleasure throughout its entirety.
You let your head rest against Miguel's chest, and he kissed your forehead gently.
"I knew you could do it," he whispered.
"You're our angel," Peter confirmed as he kissed your cheek.
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redr0sewrites · 3 months
Note
HI YEAH I AM BEGGING YOU TO ELABORATE ON THOSE TWO THINGS FROM THE SUB VOX HEADCANONS⁉️⁉️
RAHH OFC!!! IM ELABORATING ON THE DRY HUMPING HERE LMAO THE SOUNDING IS LINKED HERE FOR ALL OF YALL TO ENJOY AJSJ
🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, dry humping, pillow humping, thigh riding, little bit of somno
🥀minors dni
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when it comes to dry humping, vox gets SOOO humiliated
he gen enjoys it more than actual sex, theres just something so achingly desperate about grinding against someone, too impatient to even take off your clothes
vox is soooo sensitive, but he would rather die (again) then admit that
he can't even sit on your lap without squirming, he just can't stay still, not with the "accidental" pressure you're applying to his already hard cock
he would probably try to subtly (not subtly) bring it up in a conversation once, he thinks hes soooo slick about it but in reality you can see right through his bravado
when you pull vox onto your lap to make out he audibly whines, his legs wrap perfectly around your waist and his hips r already squirming as you kiss him stupid
hes practically a bitch in heat when you both r grinding against eachother, after a long day all he wants is to he put in his place and fucked out of his mind, and loves battling for dominance while humping against you likes hes in heat
its pathetic really
sometimes he'll glitch out and truly be unable to stop himself, his mind is just so pathetically blank and fuzzy that he just can't help it, his body has a mind of its own as he ruts against you in a frenzy, small, plessurable sparks spreading across your skin
sometimes you'll come into his office while hes working and straddle him, he gets a hard on in seconds and can't help but buck his hips up against yours while he shields his face in shame
vox has a wild imagination, i mean, he has access to the entire internet at any given time, IMAGINE how filthy his wet dreams are
he def humps you in his sleep, whimpering your name and grinding down against you
he has the sweetest little unfiltered whines when hes sleeping, and more often than not will come in his pants just from rutting against you
vox def likes riding your thigh while working too, you can't help but tease him and start bouncing your knee as his claws dig into the desk, his mind going absolutely fuzzy from pleasure as he desperately tries to stay composed
he gets off on how humiliating and humbling the position is, the fact that one of hell's strongest overlords is grinding on his partner's thigh in a semi-public place where anyone could walk in? it only turns him on more
vox's preferred form of masturbation is humping something, you can't tell me otherwise
sometimes he'll be laying in bed, missing the warmth of your body, and he can already feel himself going painfully hard and horny. vox can't even get off on his own without you, its just so pathetic but his hand never feels like yours and no sex toy could imitate your perfect hole. so, vox opts for hugging the nearest pillow to his chest, slowly dragging it down to his crotch, not even bothering to remove his clothes as he drags his hips against the material. vox'll moan you name, the movements of his hips growing more sporadic as his head clouds over with pleasure until hes fully straddling the pillow, grinding down against it and panting as he cums in his pants. he's exhausted, yet he finds himself still impossibly hard, unable to stop desperately humping the pillow below him like a bitch in heat while thoughts of you swirl in his fuzzy mind.
he has the most delicious, fucked-out look on his face as he grinds deliriously for what feels like hours, until his body finally gives up and collapses, the pillow still clamped between his legs as he takes deep, shuddering breaths as his lust begins to calm down
what if i wrote a full fic about reader walking in on vox humping a pillow, and instead of helping him, forces him to continue and just gets off while watching him struggle.... haha.... jk.... unlesss....
in will prob make this into a scenario later heheee i love putting this man in situations
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cyberrose2001 · 11 months
Note
Hi hi! Your op drawings are so good?? My bby aaa drawing him (bots in gen) is so tough, I get too caught up in the details TT
Anyway, since I miss him lol I was wondering if I could request some... uh, gosh I hate this word but idk anything synonymous. Could I request pussydrunk tfp op?
Hope you're having a nice day/night btw <3
- 🍄
TFP pussydrunk!Optimus x reader
Hi hello!!I am very proud of this and it's probably up there with my list of my favourite fics I have ever written. Thank you so much for requesting and liking my silly sketches of the blorbo. I've written this as gender neutral <3
(lowkey ive been writing heaps of OP eating pussy,,, its a canon event for me i cannot intervene..... anyway its 11AM and i havent slept yet but i needed to finish hggggh *dies of horny*)
Warnings: Oral sex (reader receiving), edging, reader has a vagina.
Word count: 657
18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI
Spending time alone with you has learned to be one of Optimus' most treasured past times. But as much as it pains him, relaxing with you is a rare treat. The usual business of the base either keeps him up all night, or he genuinely has no time. However, he tries his best to make the most of it, whether he's relaxing with you, cuddling you, or with his head glued between your inner thighs. 
Like right now. It was nearing two AM. Optimus has you sprawled out on your shared berth, his face pressed against your aching heat, finally finding sweet relief from his built-up arousal. It's been too fragging long since his face was buried in you. He misses it, and if Optimus had a choice, he would sacrifice everything he's worked for to keep you bare before him.
Two hours. Optimus had been lazily lapping at you for two hours now. At one point, his helm had lulled to the side to rest against your right inner thigh to not strain his neck. His glossa grows tired, and his energon roars through his hot frame.
His stamina is almost depleted compared to when he initially delved into your drenched pussy. Despite this, Optimus still has the capacity to tightly grip your hips, gently massaging them as you lie still for him. He is weary, yet he perseveres, ignoring his aching joints and pulsing spike painfully pressed against the berth because tonight is about you. He will make up for all those lonely nights you've spent in berth alone in one lengthy oral session.
It's very often that when Optimus gives you oral, his mind feels like he's been transported to a higher plane of existence, one where he has no responsibilities or obligations to lead a team, just the mind-numbing taste of you. It makes him dizzy and light-headed, similar to the buzz he gets when he has a high grade or two, but Optimus prefers revelling in you instead to get his high. 
As ever patient as you are with your star-crossed lover, your hips still gently roll and shudder involuntarily against his glossa, and Optimus fucking loves it. He loves your soft cries when he sucks on your clit, and he loves when you clamp your legs around his helm when your orgasm is merely within reach. But he won't let you finish just yet, not when he's yet to relish and thoroughly drown himself in your sticky sweet.  
His warm optics remain lazily trained on your face, only fluttering close when you squeeze his helm. The pressure from your thighs only heightens his hunger, a carnal desire to swallow every drop of your aphrodisiac juices. 
"Mmmmm," You mewl, sweaty palms digging into the berth, "Fuck, I missed this… why don't we do this - aah - more often, baby…."
Optimus doesn't respond, and he can't because his processor is so intoxicated and aroused that he can't even form a single coherent sentence. It's quite ironic, he thinks. A mech of his nature that is so poised and articulate in his vocable is conned by his own desperate need to surrender his intake to his humans' essence.
"Mmmffh," He purrs into your heat, parting your sensitive lips with his glossa, lazily swirling around your bud before pressing a gentle kiss against it. He can't help but grind his spike into the berth below at your whimpers, servos kneading into your soft flesh, "More… Primus, I need more…."
You titter breathlessly, snaking a hand to the top of his helm to lightly press his face further into your pulsing heat, and Optimus delightfully grunts. You shiver, biting back a moan at the vibrations, "Go ahead, hun, you've got me for the rest of the night."
Optimus may need to blow a hole into the sun to prevent it from rising, since one night will never be enough to satisfy his thirst for you.
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honeykaes · 11 months
Text
not a fairytale
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pairing: ayato x femme!reader II 3.1k
warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, hurt/comfort, angst, arranged-marriage au, based on queen charlotte, reader is from fontaine, fingering, cunnilingus, virginity loss, creampies, unedited
synopsis: to improve relations between inazuma and fontaine, focolors and raiden shogun arrange you and ayato to get married much to your dismay. As you try to be hopeful about the situation, you find yourself getting angrier and lonelier as ayato completely distances himself from your life.
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A small lit candle on your vanity illuminated the dark room as wax soon dropped along its golden holder. Your obi, decorated in navy and sewn with silver cranes was thrown to the ground, leaving your robe barely covering your chest and stomach.
Your eyes gazed at your reflection in the mirror, darkened eyes watching you back. You looked completely different than you did in Fontaine three months ago before you had sailed across the lands for weeks to reach Inazuma where you would reside for the rest of your days with a man you had never met before.
It had been three months since you had married Ayato Kamisato, the head of the Yashiro Commission in Inazuma.
The archons, Focolars and the Raiden Shogun had chosen your families to wed as to improve relations between the two nations—your family, hailed for its international politics and diplomacy matched with his family’s managing shrines, festivals, and other cultural events. You had traded your bodices, frills, and corsets for robes, obis, and haoris. 
You hated being a pawn in a game you weren’t even playing, but how could you fight against two all-powerful archons? When you first met your husband, he had seemed kind as you battled with yourself whether you could run away without your family being tried by Focolars for “breach of contract”. Ayato offered reassurances, that you wouldn’t be forced to do anything you didn’t please, that you’d be free how to go about life in the estate.
It comforted your heart and made you hopeful that you had an ally, someone to rely on, someone to eventually trust and love. Yet, after you said your vows in front of the people of Inazuma adorned in a white shiromuku kimono you didn’t get to choose, he distance himself from you and ushered off to attend to whatever with his retainers flashing a sad look to you. 
The two of you haven’t even consummated the wedding. How utterly embarrassing. The man had not provided a shared bedroom with him. It was separate rooms, separate lives, separate people. 
You hardly saw him at all.
You gripped your fists tight, nails digging in the flesh of your palms. Tears pricked at your eyes watching your hardened eyes fill with them.
“It’s not fair. I didn’t want this. I never wanted a marriage like this…” you muttered out loud. You heard a timid knock on the door as one of your personal retainers, Ayato seemed to assign her to, peaked her head out of the door. 
“My l-lady? Are you crying?” she stammered out. You narrowed your eyes at her, quickly wiping your cheeks to hide any stains or residue your tears could leave behind. Shifting under the weight of your cold gaze, her eyes leered away momentarily before gazing back at you.
“I’m fine,” you muttered. “He missed my dinner invitation again despite the numerous attempts to get his attention. I’m not going to try anymore. I’m tired of feeling like this.”
The retainer hesitantly leered behind her again before letting out a soft sigh.
“I see, my lady. But, my lord is actually here at the door with me wishing to speak with you,” she answered, opening the door further to reveal Ayato’s somber form peering over at you. He was dressed casually in a pale blue yukata, purple heko obi wrapped around his waist. His lips pulled themselves in a frown.
The sight of his eyes gazing at you pitifully caused bubbles of anger to rile deep in your chest. You turned your head around glaring at the pair through the reflection of the mirror.
“I don’t care. Va-t’en!” you barked. The retainer shrunk as you yelled, looking up to Ayato as he silently lifted a hand up signaling she could leave. The retainer rushed out as Ayato walked fully into your private chamber, closing the shoji behind him. You hear his heavy footstep creep closer to you as you shut your eyes, knowing he was now right behind you.
“(Name), I believe I owe you a long-deserved apology,” he murmured. You napped your eyes open, whipping your head around, and scoffed, seeing his frown deepen. 
“Oh? What makes you say that?” you sarcastically ask. You rose from your seat, jamming a finger into his chest. Ayato could feel the daggers digging into his eyes from your gaze.
“You said we were in this together. That’s what you told me on our wedding day! That’s what you even said in your vows to me,” you barked. Tears were beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes once more, as Ayato’s eyes softened.
“You made me believe that this shitty situation would be hopeful! That I’d be happy despite being a sacrificial pawn to my nation,” you yelled out. Ayato briefly closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh from his chest.
“...It seems my own judgment about you was incorrect,” he replied, reaching out and placing his hand on your shoulder. A fire lit under you as the rage that developed for months finally reached its boiling point. You shrugged away his hand, Ayato’s mouth opening in surprise.
“Don’t act like my husband now, my lord,” you cooly reply. Ayato closed his mouth, taking a sigh once more to collect himself and retreating his hand back to his sigh.
“When we first met, and I saw you at the docks strategizing with yourself on how you could wiggle yourself out of this situation, I couldn’t help but smile. It comforted me that I was also not alone in feeling like a pawn to the archons, to the nation,” he confessed. You sniffled, crossing your arms tight. He thought you would interrupt him, curse at him, beat on his chest but you stood there, silent tears streaming down your face, and simply glared at him.
“You told me your wish for independence. I knew that you did not want this, so I did not want to force you into a role you had no choice to do. I wanted you to be able to do as you pleased and work on your efforts of diplomacy and international cultural teachings Inazuma needs after the Sakoku Decree lifted—”
“No, Ayato! I WANTED LOVE!” 
Your eyes widened surprised by your own outrage before drifting your arms to hug yourself. Your blurry vision darted to the floor, shame bubbling inside of you as you finally admitted the core issue of your frustration. Ayato’s lilac eyes widened, taking a step back surprised at your outburst too.
You turned your body around, trying to escape his eyes peering into your own. The two of you briefly sat in silence, the candle still burning briefly alerting you that Ayato still remained there, paused as his shadow did not move.
You wiped your eyes once more, sniffing loudly to prevent any snot threatening to peak from your nose, and took a shaky sigh before turning around to face your husband. His eyes had narrowed, not from anger or disappointment, but from thought. 
“...As a child, my favorite story was Cendrillon. Although I did not have an evil stepmother or step-siblings, I related to that poor girl so much,” you confessed. Ayato took a silent step forever, getting closer to you.
“Yes, I wanted my independence and freedom but I also wanted to share that with someone that I loved,” you uttered, voice beginning to get shaky. Ayato still had not said a word, same expression outlined on his face.
“...I…” Ayato trailed off before, closing his mouth once again.  He took a deep breath, an attempt to reassure himself against your own watchful eyes.
“When my parents passed when I was a child, the stories that I loved…I began to hate them. How could these fairytales, love like that even exist even when I would never be granted those privileges? I couldn’t shrink my responsibility, I had to take care of my little sister and the clan my father had left for me,” Ayato recalled, closing his eyes.
“I didn't understand because I had the legacy of my bloodline, my family on my shoulders; however…” he trailed off, reaching his hand for your palm. He lifted the appendage up, pressing his lips against your palm.
“...I need to at least be willing to learn with you. I cannot promise I will be a prince from those stories, but, as I said in our vows, I will open myself to you, in my heart…if you’ll still let me.”
You froze as Ayato gave you a soft smile, letting your hand go and placing his large palm against your cheek. It was warm, his touch gentle as if he was handling cracked glass. As more tears cascaded down your cheek, he wiped them away with his thumb slowly leaning him and placing his lips on top of your own. 
And to both of your surprise, your eyes fluttered close—pressing your lips back with the same fervor.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss and closing an inch of space between you two—lips desperate and clinging on to the hope of reassurance of the future of your marriage. A low moan reverberated from Ayato’s lips, drifting his hands to your waist, and pulling you closer. You gasped feeling something hard beginning to nudge your upper thighs, before he gripped your robe—already exposing much of your body to him—and took it off, leaving you bare to him
Embarrassment fills your form remembering the little clothes you did have on when you confronted Ayato, but it didn’t matter at this moment; his hands gently brought your body down against the large plush futon on the ground. He laid on top of you, breaking the kiss momentarily to let his eyes wander across your form before claiming them once more. Ayato’s hand brushed against your thighs, pinching the plush skin of your upper thighs.
Ayato breaks the kiss once more, grunting in brief frustration, at the lack of contact his skin was having yours. With his obi and yukata joining your attire, your eyes fell to his hardened cock before he laid on top of you once more, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear. His hand snaked itself between your thighs, cupping your slit as a soft sigh escaped your lips. 
“Ayato, please,” you begged.  He sucked a breath in and felt his cock throb at the low seductive nature of your voice. Two fingers brushed themselves along your fold, gathering up the slick drooling out of you You gasped as they sank themselves inside, inching deeper into your core. Ayato struggled pumping his fingers inside of you from how tight you were, walls clinging against him as if they didn’t want them to leave.
“You’re beautiful and already dripping this much for me. I didn't take you for the innocent type,” he hummed in your ear. Your nails harpooned in the soft silk of your sheets, feeling hot precum smearing against your leg as Ayato absentmindedly ground himself against you. 
“I see you’re feeling confident now, my lord,” you muttered in response. Ayato clicked his tongue, pressing his lips against your neck.
“I thought I told you when we got married not to call me that. I want to hear your voice, especially like this, call me by my given name,” he whispered. You choke out another moan, his fingers scissoring themselves to stretch you out further.  Ayato leaned over, stealing another kiss from you, before parting his fingers. The digits were illuminating under the dim light, caked with your arousal before Ayato briskly lapped them up.
His lips moved down from your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses along your body.
“W-What are you doing now,” you stammered out as he reached the valley of your breasts. His hands propped up, fondling the pair with a tight squeeze as you whined. 
“Something you’ll enjoy, I promise,” he reassured, lips curling to a smirk. He flashed his eye up briefly at you, admiring your embarrassed expression eating up every move and tease he was showing to your body. A soft laugh escaped him before continuing to kiss down your body until he reached your naval.
“Did they not explain what consummating truly meant?” he hummed in amusement, lips moving towards your inner thighs. You ball your hands into fists, pounding them down against the futon.
“I know what it means! I’ve read books about it, Ayato! It’s not like I had anything else to do stuck inside of here all day!” you barked back. Your husband, who was nipping at your inner thighs, paused hesitantly before offering you a regretful smile.
“Hence why I want to give you the best experience possible. To help atone for my cruelty,” he replied. He set his sight on your entrance, watching your sweet hole puckering on nothing, and leaned in further. Opening his mouth, Ayato pressed his tongue along your slit, sliding the muscle up and down. You whined, pleasure shooting through you as his tongue nudged against your clit ever so often.
He slurped the abundant slick pouring from you, wrapping his lips against your swollen clit and sucking with passion. His name yelled from your lips, drifting your hands down on Ayato’s soft pale blue hair—pushing his head further against your crotch. Your ground your hips against his face desperate for more friction on the bundle of nerves.
“Heh…our retainers probably know what we are doing from how loud you are being,” he cooed, giving your clit kitten licks as your hips bucked for more. He quickly released your hands that were pressing against Ayato’s hair covering your mouth in embarrassment. He clicked his tongue, corners of his lips turned downwards before gliding two fingers back inside of your warmth, curling themselves inside of you as if they were determinately searching for something.
“That’s not to say to be quiet, love. Please…I want to hear your voice. Let me know how my actions are making you feel,” he breathlessly groaned. You shakily let your hands go, pitch rising as Ayato went back to toying with your clit as he pumped his fingers inside of you. Your stomach churned, thighs trembling as you crawled closer to your high.
“Ayato! Ayato, fuck!” you cursed out loudly, overwhelmed with the pleasure he graced you with throughout your body. As you shivered in pleasure, hips rising without control, Ayato pressed his hand down—trying to control your writhing form.
“Easy there. Shhh, I got you,” he cooed, helping you ease down from your climax. Your chest heaved, catching your breath—half-lidded, tired eyes peering up at his soft ones. You drifted your eyes away from his gaze as he leaned up, wiping his mouth of the slick that clung onto it. 
Your attention was now on his cock, twitching impatiently. Although it wasn’t girthy, it was long and looked heavy as it curled up. Precum budded at his flushed tip; a few moles littering along its base.
Ayato lined himself up against your slit, the sensation feeling foreign to you as he reassuringly nudged his tip against your burning clit. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, trying to internally prepare for what was to come. 
“I won’t sugarcoat it, this is going to be painful,” he murmured, offering you a kiss on your cheek. “But, just let me know when you're ready for me to start moving. Don’t worry about how long that will take. I’m a patient man.”
Ayato slowly slid his cock inside of you. You suck a sharp breath in, walls burning as you feel him slowly stretching you out overtook your senses. As he inched further, Ayato found gnawed on his bottom lip fighting the urge to immediately bottom out. Your walls were soft, tightly clenched around his length. Your nails dig into his pale. Broad shoulders as tears develop in your eyes.
As he finally bottoms out, he peppered kisses along your tear-stained face, softly moaning at your pulsating walls trying to milk him.
“You’re taking me so well. It’s hard to control myself when I have you like this,’ he confessed, drawing shapes on your hips to distract yourself from the pain. His fingers eventually move away finding themselves against your clit while it rubbed tight circles, trying to ease the torment into pleasure
Time eventually passes and you whine, offering a shaky nod. Pressing his lips on yours one more time, his hips begin to move. His pace is powerful, clearly overwhelmed by your cunt. You could hear him grunt against the shell of your ear, muttering your name repeatedly. 
Your legs wrapped around his thin waist, allowing him to plunge himself deeper. Ayato’s tip brushed against the spot he had found earlier and you yelped out in response. Your head had thrown back, sliding your nails down his back as he clenched his jaw at the sharp pain. He increases his pace, as the sound of skin slapping against one another echoed throughout the room.
With his balls slapping against your ass, his eyes focused on his cock continuously disappearing inside of you, glistening in your slick. Your stomach churned, walls fluttering down as you crept closer to your high once more.
His patience had sadly thinned too much, shutting his eyes tight and grunting loudly. His hips stifled, cum shooting deep inside of you.
“I can’t stop myself, I’m sorry,” he slurred out, pressing his face tight against the nape of your neck. He continued to rut against you, thrusting his cum deeper as one hand stroked along your thigh to try to wake him up from this spell.
As his thrust slowed and then halted, sheathed completely inside of you, he lifted his face from your sweaty nape—capturing your lips once more. The two of you moaned before he leaned away again.
 A blush had decorated Ayato’s face, lilac eyes darker and focused as if you were the only person on the planet. His head clung onto his forehead, his lips, glossy, as a string of saliva connected them with yours still. You let your hands fall to the futon before Ayato weaved his own with them and gave you a soft smile.
He was beautiful like this, vulnerable. It was different from his usual distant, calculating self. 
“What made you come tonight,” you whispered. Ayato sighed, letting your hands go and leaning his head to rest on one of your breasts.
“My sister and one of my closest retainers, Thoma. The pair held an intervention for me and put the mirror to my face on how I was treating you. He paused briefly.
“As I said, I’m truly sorry. You won’t have to worry about me leaving you alone anymore,” he whispered. You smiled.
Although it would not make up for everything he put you through, it was at least a start.
A glimmer of hope.
You brushed his hair with your hand, closing your eyes—a peace you haven’t felt in months overtaking you.
“We’re in this together. Never forget that.”
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stevie-petey · 4 months
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episode five: dig dug
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.” “Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.” He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.
Rating: general, swearing and slight violence
Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !
“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”
“Yeah?”
“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”
Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.
You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.
But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.
As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.
“You killed our cat.”
“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”
Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”
“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”
A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”
Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”
“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”
Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”
“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”
“We can’t tell the party–”
“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”
Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”
He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.
Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.
It’s a good plan.
That is, if it works.
“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.
Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”
“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”
“I hope Dart eats your face.”
You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”
“Wait for two knocks–”
“Three.”
“Three knocks. Right.”
You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.
Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.
Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.
Poor Mews.
You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.
He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”
Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.
“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”
“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”
You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.
Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.
“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.
He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.
“Good job. Now onto phase two.”
Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”
“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.
Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”
The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.
Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.
When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”
Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”
Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.
Fuck.
“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”
“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”
“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?
“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”
The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.
A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”
“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.
You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”
“Deal.”
Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.
The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.
“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.
“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”
Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.
“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”
“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.
Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.
“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”
“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.
Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”
More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”
“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”
“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?
“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”
Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”
“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.
“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.
“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chest and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.
As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.
“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.
You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”
“Touche.”
Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.
“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”
You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”
Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”
He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.
“Alright. We all set?”
Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”
You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”
“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.
Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.
You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.
If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”
By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.
“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”
Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”
You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”
Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”
Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.
“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”
Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.
But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”
You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”
Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.
“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”
“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.
“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.
“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”
“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”
With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.
It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.
“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”
Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.
“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.
“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.
It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.
“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”
“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.
Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”
Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”
“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.
“Is he with Mike?”
“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.
It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.
“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”
Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.
Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”
Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”
“Code red?” Erica interrupts.
“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”
“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.
Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”
“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”
“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”
You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”
“And you’re okay with this because…?”
“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkin’s Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”
Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”
You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”
“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”
A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.
Steve.
Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…
He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.
You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.
It can’t hurt to try, at least.
“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”
Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.
Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.
The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.
This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”
“Hey, Steve.”
“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.
You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”
A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”
“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”
“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”
This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”
“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”
Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”
The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”
Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”
“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”
“Why?”
“Steve’s heading there.”
Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”
“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”
You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.
Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.
You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.
The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.
So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.
The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.
There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.
“Steve!” You rush over to his side.
He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Well–”
“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy’s hand.
Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”
Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”
“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”
“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.
“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.
“I tried telling you over the phone!”
Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”
He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”
Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”
“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.
Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”
“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.
“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.
“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”
Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”
“I was born first–”
“But I was literally about to sit down–”
“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”
“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”
He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.
Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”
“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.
“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”
Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”
Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”
“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.
“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”
“Yeah…?”
“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”
Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”
“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.
“Oh, just wait,” you quip.
Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”
Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”
“I’d say so, yeah.”
“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”
“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.
However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.
You respect his repressing skills, honestly.
Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”
“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.
A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”
You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”
“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.
“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”
He shrugs. “It’s a baby demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”
“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.
“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”
Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”
Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.
And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.
Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.
“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.
“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”
“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”
Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”
“It’s a valid question–”
“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”
Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”
Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”
“Well…”
Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”
Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”
“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”
Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”
“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”
The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”
You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”
“Detective?”
“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkin’s Lab.”
A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”
His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”
He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”
“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”
You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”
Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”
Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”
A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”
“Well how do you know?”
“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.
This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”
Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”
He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.
The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.
“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.
“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”
He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”
Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”
“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”
“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”
You giggle. “Truce.”
His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.
You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.
“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.
You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”
“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.
Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”
You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”
“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”
Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.
“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”
“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.
“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”
Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”
You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.
He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.
“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.
Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”
Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.
“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.
The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”
“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.
“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.
You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.
“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”
Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”
“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”
Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.
There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.
“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.
“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?
While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.
“Oh, shit.”
“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”
Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”
The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”
“No way…” Dustin says in awe.
It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.
Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.
But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.
What matters is that Dart has escaped.
And it’s happening again.
Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.
Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”
Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.
-
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bangchansdirty-slut · 5 months
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"Not Too Old For Me"
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Paring: Parents Bestfriend!Lee know x Bottom Reader
Genre: Smut
Summary: Y/n arrives at her family's vacation home for winter break to find a surprise in their pool.
More: Masterlist
A/n: I just finished my Yeonjun x Bottom Fan!Reader fic. I'll post it later today when I'm less busy.
The crisp winter air nipped at Y/n's nose as she stepped out of the car, her breath forming tiny clouds in front of her face. She stretched her arms overhead, feeling the familiar weight of her luggage dig into her shoulders. The warm vacation home, nestled at the foot of the snow-capped mountains, beckoned her with its inviting glow. She glanced around, taking in the serene winter landscape before her. It was just like she remembered.
But what she didn't remember was her parents inviting one of their friends, Lee Minho, to stay with them for the holidays. As she unloaded her suitcase onto the porch, she couldn't help but wonder why they'd done such a thing. It wasn't as if they were close friends or anything.
Shrugging it off, she made her way inside, removing her coat and boots by the door. The warmth of the house enveloped her like a comforting embrace, driving away the last traces of the cold air. She could hear laughter coming from the living room, where her parents were having a glass of wine with Minho. He was a tall, handsome man in his mid-thirties, with a charming smile and an air of confidence that seemed to draw people to him.
With a sigh, Y/n headed upstairs to her room to unpack. She glanced out the window as she passed by and caught a glimpse of Minho, his muscles glistening with water as he stepped out of the pool. Her heart skipped a beat as he turned around, revealing his perfectly toned backside. Suddenly, she felt a strange thrill coursing through her veins. This was going to be an interesting vacation indeed.
After putting away her clothes, she slipped into a revealing black swimsuit and made her way downstairs. The backyard was huge, with a pool and plenty of lounge chairs scattered around. As she stepped into the pool, the cool water enveloped her body, making her gasp. It felt so refreshing after being cooped up inside for so long. She swam a few laps, enjoying the freedom of the water, before deciding to lie down on one of the loungers to soak up some sun.
A few minutes later, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Minho emerging from the house. He was still shirtless, his chest glistening with droplets of water. He smiled at her, revealing a set of perfectly straight white teeth. "Hey, Y/n. Mind if I join you?" he asked, sitting down in the lounger next to hers.
She felt a rush of heat spread through her body at his proximity. "Uh, no, I guess not," she managed to reply, her voice sounding a little shaky. He leaned closer to her, his arm brushing against hers, and the air between them seemed to crackle with electricity. For a moment, she considered trying to seduce him, to see where things might go. But then she remembered her parents would be gone for two days, leaving them alone together…and that thought sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her.
Minho must have sensed her nervousness, because he smiled reassuringly and patted her leg. "It's okay, I won't bite. Relax and enjoy the sun." As he spoke, his hand lingered on her thigh, sending tingles up her spine. She could feel her heart racing and her breath coming faster. This was dangerous territory, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She wanted to explore where this attraction was leading.
The next few hours passed in a haze of swimming and flirting. Y/n's parents had already left to get Y/n's sister from boarding school. They talked about everything from movies to travel, and Y/n couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His eyes were piercing and intense, and when he smiled at her, it felt like the sun had come out from behind a cloud. They even shared a few intimate moments, their bodies pressed tightly together as they kissed beneath the warm summer sun.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the pool and the surrounding landscape, Minho suggested they move inside. He led her through the house and into the Minho's bedroom, where they collapsed onto the bed, their bodies still wet from the pool. "Y/n, are you sure you want to do this. I'm twice your age. Aren't I too old for you?"
Y/n looks at Minho and says "I'm sure. You are not too old for me." He began to kiss her neck, his lips trailing Lower and Lower, while his hands explored her body, caressing and teasing. She arched her back, wanting more, needing him to touch her.He pulled away for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. "Do you trust me?" he whispered. She nodded, her heart racing. He smiled, his hand moving Lower still, until it was cupping her bare breast. He squeezed gently, rolling her nipple between his fingers. She let out a moan, her hips pressing against his hand. He leaned in, taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking softly as his other hand moved Lower still, slipping between her legs. She cried out as he found her already wet, her body trembling with desire.
His fingers moved in a rhythm that was both familiar and new, as if he knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her lose control. She arched her back off the bed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she came undone beneath his touch. She could feel the heat rising within her, spreading through her body like wildfire. He continued to stroke her, his fingers moving faster and faster, until she felt a second, even more intense orgasm building deep inside her.
As she neared the brink, he pulled his fingers away, leaving her aching for more. "You're so wet, Y/n," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. He rolled onto his knees, positioning himself between her spread legs. She gasped as she felt the head of his erection pressing against her entrance. He looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense, and slowly, carefully, he pushed inside. She cried out as he filled her, the sensation of being so completely joined with him overwhelming her senses.
He began to move, his hips meeting hers in a rhythm that was both gentle and demanding. He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking as he thrust deeper. She arched her back, moaning loudly as their bodies moved together, the sounds of their passion echoing through the room.
As they became lost in the sensation of being joined, the last vestiges of daylight faded away, replaced by the warm glow of the lamps. The air in the room seemed to hum with anticipation as they explored each other's bodies, their movements growing more urgent and intense. Minho's thrusts became deeper, harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to control the building urgency within him.
Y/n arched her back, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as she met his every stroke. She felt herself getting closer, the pressure building inside her, demanding release. With a cry that seemed to come from the depths of her soul, she came, her body convulsing beneath him as waves of pleasure washed over her. Minho followed close behind, his eyes squeezed shut, his back arching as he emptied himself deep inside her.
They lay tangled together on the bed, their breath coming in ragged gasps, their hearts racing. Minho rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at her. "That was… incredible," he murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. Y/n couldn't help but return the smile, feeling a sense of warmth and contentment spread through her.
"I've never… I've never felt anything like that before," she confessed, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss before replying, "Neither have I." They lay there for several long moments, lost in the afterglow of their passion, the world around them fading away as they basked in the glow of their connection.
As their breathing began to steady, Minho propped himself up on an elbow, gazing down at her. "Do you want to take a shower?" he asked, running a finger lightly down her cheek. She nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He smiled reassuringly, then rolled off the bed and onto his feet. He extended a hand to help her up, and she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.
The walk to the bathroom was a surreal experience as if they were in a bubble, the world around them fading away. He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right, then helped her step under the spray. The warm water cascaded down over them, washing away the sweat and the traces of their passion.
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sturnsiolos0 · 4 months
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Private-Matt Sturniolo
You will do anything to get what you want. And what you wanted? Well, that was the man currently dragging you up to his bedroom,a crooked grin lighting up his face as he glances over his shoulder to take in your half-running, half-stumbling form.
A breathless giggle slips past your lips as he begins to slow his pace, and when the two of you draw close to his door, he turns to walk backwards, not even pausing in his steps to tug you close and wind his arms around you. Matt leans down to plant an eager kiss to your lips, and before you can reciprocate, he's spinning you around, still pacing backwards to retrace his steps.
He repeats his actions once more, a firm, promising press of his mouth against yours followed by a sudden turn.
"You wanna tell me why i was dragged up here?" You comment jokingly, peering into the room before glancing back up to Matt, who is smirking down at you, pride and anticipation mingling into what would be an adorable expression if not tinged by the all-encompassing lust blowing his pupils and staining his cheeks.
"Thought we could use some quiet, plus Chris and Nick aren't here." He explains casually, hands slipping down from your waist to cup your ass, and a wicked grin reveals his intentions.
Liquid heat pools within you - It's the push you need for your hands to slip back down to grip at his shirt and yank him into the room, this time you being the one to walk backwards. He follows eagerly, hurrying into the room, and kicks the door closed behind him without a even half a glance.
You break away for a moment, "Quiet, what for?"
"Well, not that I don't enjoy our little midnight quickies in the kitchen or the car, but I thought we could do with somewhere a little more.." He gives pause as he considers the right word, and your heart beats double-time at what was sure to come; sure enough, Matt runs the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, walking you backwards until your knees buckle against the bed, flopping down to stare up into his eyes. "...private."
Matt studies you - lips parted in anticipation, cheeks flushed, eyes hooded as they mirror the lust in his own. A broad palm cups your jaw, fingers splaying across your warm cheek as his thumb takes its time tracing the curve your of bottom lip, before daring to slip into the corner of your awaiting mouth. Your tongue is quick to envelope the digit, sucking gently as you maintain eye contact; Matt swallows, his breath deepening as his pupils dilate like a spill of ink. Pulling back, his thumb slips from your mouth with a wet pop, and you smirk lazily up at him.
"What did you have planned then, Matt?" You breathe, steeling yourself against the temptation of simply grabbing him by the shirt and yanking him down on top of you, especially when he shudders at his name, whispered like something akin to a prayer if only it wasn't with such filthy intonation. Instead, you wait for him to put his own plans in motion.
"Well, I thought we could get naked for a change." He jokes, and your laughter bursts out of you; certainly, the pair of you got up to plenty of mischief together, but never more than a few half-undressed fucks or a heavy make-out session in the kitchen before one of his brothers would interrupt.
He drops down onto the bed beside you, knees bumping into yours as he twists to face your awaiting form, and you watch his every move in anticipation that increases with every passing second. Matt reaches out, curling a long arm around your waist and pulling you closer whilst the other cups the back of your neck, and your hands find purchase on his broad shoulders of their own accord as he closes the short distance. It's a swift kiss that quickly turns heated, his tongue exploring every word your mouth once uttered. The gap between you closes when you shift from the bed and twist to straddle his lap, knees digging into the plush mattress as you grind against his cock, already hard and ready though the layers of clothing separating you.
Matt grunts at the pressure, and you smirk against his mouth, daring to nip at his lower lip; it's enough to catch him by surprise, and you use the opportunity to push him back onto the bed before fidgeting with his shirt to take it off. Your breathing comes fast and heavy, a pace that matches Matt's as his hands disappear behind you to grab your ass, pulling you closer still.
With his shirt finally off, you barely have a moment to admire the exposed skin before he's sitting up once again and removing your shirt to reciprocate the act of removing his; he immediately was latching himself onto the exposed arch of your throat, nibbling and sucking a path down the sensitive flesh and across your chest until coming to a stop at your clothed breasts. Matt wastes no time in unlatching the clasp of your bra to toss away without a thought.
You lift yourself higher onto your knees, stomach pressed tight against his bare chest, and a breathless whimper escapes you when Matt's mouth once again reconnects with your skin, hot lips skimming the underside of your breasts before daring to caress your nipples. Matt's arms coil tight around your waist, pulling you close, and you run your hands through his hair, cradling his head. His tongue laves and swirls until they peak, and he takes the tender bud between his teeth to gently tug, to which you can only whine desperately, your fingers twisting in his hair and yanking in pleasure.
Matt continues his admissions on your breasts, alternating between playful nips, earnest sucking, and adoring kisses, and you fight against your closed eyelids to peer down at him, admiring the sheer devotion and passion written across his face, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Lowering yourself until your ass once again rests against his lap, you almost laugh at the way his neck bows in his pursue of your breasts, until he can't no longer; he pauses only a moment before redirecting his attention once again to your mouth, to which you eagerly respond.
You grind against his lap, feeling his thick cock press against you, and your hands graze down his chest, fingers splayed in appreciation, before reaching your destination and getting to work on undoing the buttons on his pants. Like-minded, Matt loosens his grip to undo the fastenings of yours, before giving a light swat to your ass.
"Up," He grunts, but he's already lifting you to stand you up; your pants slip from your body, and you kick them away, your shoes and socks quick to follow, as Matt does the same with his own remaining clothing, almost falling in his excitement.
Before you can remove your panties, already soaked, Matt is grabbing you by the waist and tugging you close. He's stripped bare, sat on the edge of the bed with his legs splayed, and you can only stare at him, a blend of awe and hunger alight in your eyes at his naked form. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, the material peeling away from your glistening pussy that he can't look away from.
"Fuck, come here," Matt mutters, voice like gravel as he pulls you close. He runs a thick finger through your folds appreciatively, and when he pulls away to inspect it, he nods in approval at your liquid arousal before slipping the digit into his mouth and sucking it clean. "Hmm, you're fucking delicious, love. All of this, just for me?"
"Mm-hmm." You moan, nodding fervently as your fingers once again entwine in his hair, and he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your stomach before guiding you to kneel on his spread lap, shins pressing into the solid muscle of his thighs as your feet catch against his knees. Matt's lips find yours, desperation tingeing the rough movements, and when you shift closer, you jolt with a needy moan when the length of his throbbing cock brushes against your pussy.
"Shit," He hisses through clenched teeth, and one hand leaves your ass to slip between your bodies. Fingers trace your folds, finding your swollen clit to rub a trembling circle around the bundle of nerves before once again slipping back down through your slick folds to tease your entrance. Despite the awkward angle, Matt still manages to slip a thick finger into you, his thumb brushing against your clit with each knuckle that he sinks in; one, two, and three, and he pumps a couple of strokes before withdrawing, only to return with a second finger. Your pussy clenches around the intrusion, his expert digits working you open in preparation, and you can only moan and sigh wantonly against his lips.
You try to return the favour, one hand untangling from his ruffled hair to stroke at his cock, but you only get as far as wrapping your hand around his throbbing length before Matt is withdrawing his fingers and leaving you empty. He can feel your cry of desperation on your lips before you can even utter it, and his fingers, drenched in your arousal, seeks out your own around his cock.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, tonight is all about you." He soothes, and he gently pushes your hand away to pump his cock, your slick mixing with his beading pre-cum as his fingers twist against his tip. Matt leans back to stare down, eyes fixated on your pussy as he runs cock through your dripping folds, the tip nudging at your clit, and you can only grind yourself closer as he continues to tease you; with every half-thrust guided by his hand, the head of his cock would catch your entrance before slipping through your pussy to brush against the throbbing bundle of nerves.
"Matt, Matt, please," You beg, voice needy and breathless as you clutch at his shoulders. "Please, fuck me, Matt, I want you inside of me now."
"Anything for you, love." He murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw before aligning his dick with your entrance. "Ready?"
You nod earnestly, loose hair flailing about your shoulders as you gaze into Matts's eyes, your own heavy-lidded and glassy with tears of pleasure-fueled desperation. Slowly, achingly so, he pushes in, inch by inch, and your high-pitched moan reverberates through the room as his thick cock stretches you to your limits. Finally, he bottoms out, and through your euphoria, you catch sight of Matt, slack-jawed and panting heavily as he tries to hold still; around him, your pussy twitches and trembles, and your moans are met by strained grunts as his grip tightens on you, palms squeezing your hips and fingertips sinking in to the flesh of your ass.
Your hips shift experimentally, slowly lifting an inch before dropping back down, and you can only offer him a dazed nod before tightening your grip on his shoulders and rising again, the drag of his cock against your fluttering walls alighting each and every nerve within you. It's difficult to ride him in this position when you're so over-stimulated, and Matt is quick to note this; his grip on you adjusts, and he lifts you before dropping you back down, repeating the act until your hips are rolling and he's thrusting up to meet you.
The room is filled with heavy panting and high moans, curses and profanity littering the air like prayers as sweat dampens your overheated skin and kisses become hungry clashes of teeth and tongue. You're distantly aware of your nails biting into Matt's shoulders, and when you drag them down his back, scrambling for purchase, Matt's hips stutter. Suddenly, you're being flipped, your back colliding with the rumpled sheets.
Matt looms over you, hasty hands grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his waist before burying his cock in you once more. You only have a moment to acclimatise before he starts to thrust, face buried in your neck, and the new angle combined with the sheer force as he drills into you makes the tension within snap. Your pussy clenches tight, walls spasming as you climax, and you can only chant his name as your hands clamp down on his biceps.
He continues to thrust throughout your orgasm, throbbing cock dragging against your velvet heat, until he finally shudders, hips faltering and stuttering to a halt as he cums deep within you. Matt collapses against you, softening cock still buried in your pussy, before rolling over with an exhausted grunt and pulling out. Strong arms seek out your shuddering form, still desperately trying to catch your breath, and Matt pulls you over until your head rests against his heaving chest, his pounding heart echoing in your ear.
"Holy shit," You murmur when you finally find your voice. "That was good."
"Only good?" He mumbles around a yawn, prompting you to yawn yourself. "How about we go to the shower and have round two in there?"
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dollyyun · 9 days
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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫
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RELEASE DATE: Friday, 7th June 2024 (subject to change)
PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader, heeseung x fem!reader
GENRE: 18+ (mdni), semi-college au, adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.
WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, smoking, mention of drugs, alcohol consumption, violence, blood, profanities, obsession, yandere, manipulation, corruption, toxicity, dubcon, unprotected sex (no!), mean&softdom!hee (he’s unpredictable), name calling (slut, sweetheart, baby), degradation, car sex, possible voyeurism, slight bondage, gagging, choking, dry humping, blowjob, pussydrunk!hee, fingering, edging, manhandling, spitting kink, orgasm denial, crying, squirting, creampies, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hee is very much obsessed with reader.
TEASER WORD COUNT: 1.5k
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.1, PART 3.2, PART 4
✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘
The unsettling tension feels oppressive as it tethers your neck, while the fear that resides in your heart manifests in the uneven rise and fall of your chest. Every fibre of your being is telling you to flee him, but it is as though you are rendered immobilised under his piercing gaze that is fixed solely on your transfixed figure.
Goosebumps arise on your skin, and you swear that the cold temperature in the room has dropped to subzero. The longer the penetrating silence that shrouds the foreboding atmosphere in the room persists, the more reason for you to grasp the opportunity to escape, especially since he is further away from you and most probably unable to catch up to you.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart.” His once honeyed-dripping tone sounds eerily dark, with a rasp projecting in his husky voice, evoking involuntary yet familiar lust amidst the palpable terror. “Did you, or did you not trespass on my office?”
“I─” Just when you finally find your voice, it disappears again, prompting you to smack your lips shut and swallow the frightful lump in your throat. Your nails digging into your palms form the shapes of crescents as you clench your fist.
Confusion finds its way to plunge into the whirlpool of torrential emotions within you. You were certain that he was the anonymous guy who had been sending you all those texts, and you even followed his instructions. Could all of these be some sort of twisted test he decided to experiment on you?
Of course, it could be. After all, Lee Heeseung is as detrimental as his comrades.
You mentally nod your head to yourself, firm in your suspicion that Heeseung is indeed the anonymous guy, but you’re not about to let it be known to him.
“I didn’t─”
Heeseung scoffs out a chuckle at your audacity, his lips upturning a smirk while his eyes gleam dangerously with explicable sentiments that have you fully grasping the severity of your situation.
“What did I say about lying? Hmm?” He leans away from the table, his hands remaining tucked in his pockets, as each step he takes towards you is deliberate and stalking, while his dark, piercing eyes penetrate into your frightful ones.
Run! Your mind screams at you to run away from your predator before he devours you.
“T-That you hate liars.” Your timorous voice shakes as you finally regain mobility, now taking steps back. You see it in his eyes—how he finds great delight in your patent fear while the smirk on his wicked yet charming countenance remains.
“And yet you dared to lie.” He tuts, unceasingly stalking towards you, to which you grasp the courage and dash for the door. “Oh, sweetheart, why bother trying when you know you can’t escape?”
You ignore his taunting words from behind as you grasp the handle and try to pull it open, but the familiar sound of ‘ding!’ brings a dreadful realisation to you at the high probability that in order to exit, you must enter the correct passcode on the keypad, the same way when you two entered earlier.
Your pulses drum loudly in your ear as soon as you feel his ominous presence from behind, prompting you to make a run to the side, but his hands manage to seize you.
“Heeseung! Please!” You frantically implore him, struggling against him as the danger in the heat of his touch on your skin intensifies the churns in your stomach.
“Shhhh, sweetheart, look at me.” Heeseung attempts to calm you down as his grip on you tightens due to your persistent attempts to push him away from you.
A whimper leaves your lips as you shake your head, turning away from him, but his patience is running thin. “I said, look at me.” He roughly grabs your chin and forces you to meet his hauntingly beautiful eyes while his tone resonates down your core as it has you in a tight grip.
“I’m sorry for entering your office without permission.” You finally deliver your heartfelt apology to him, hoping that he will show you some clemency. Tears begin to accumulate in your eyes as you pleadingly stare at him. “I’m sorry, Hee. I won’t do it again.” 
“I know you are.” He says softly as he caresses your cheek, but even you can discern his hauntingly affectionate gesture. “Why are you crying, my love?”
You only whimper in response as a teardrop slides down your cheek, prompting him to gently wipe it away. “You’re terrified of me.” He states, his tone remains eerily soft while a sinister grin smears across his lips before he leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheek. “Mmhmm, as you should be, baby.” He rasps against your skin.
“H-Heeseung.” You weakly utter, attempting to push him away, but the trails of kisses on your cheek down to your neck enfeeble you as you find yourself succumbing to his dark allure that threatens to engulf you wholly.
“Now, tell me, what was your purpose for snooping around in my office?” He asks in between kisses before stopping at where his mark on your skin is. You shiver at the sensation of his sharp teeth grazing on your skin, a silent warning for you to choose your options wisely.
“I was just curious, I swear.” You try your utmost to tell him earnestly, despite knowing that it isn’t the entire truth. Heeseung seems to believe you as he presses a soft, lingering kiss on his mark before withdrawing from you. A hiccup emerges from your throat, and you stare at him remorsefully. “I’m really sorry, Hee.”
“I know, I know.” His hands descend to your thighs before grabbing them. “Jump.” He forces you anyway, which has you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist with his hand holding your waist while the other grips your thigh for more security before carrying you across the room where the centre table is.
It is as though he has bewitched you with some sort of spell, as you are unable to look away from his eyes. His dark allure continues to pull you into him as he sets you down on the table. His hand deftly supports your back from falling behind while your palms are pressed on the surface behind you.
“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your mind fogging with lust and perturbation as his touch on your body feels igniting.
“Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have lied to me, and even worse when you tried to run away from me.” He says softly, kissing the back of his mouth while his eyes drink in at how beautiful you look being trapped by him.
Your breath hitches in your throat. “But I told you I was sorry.” You whimper, hating how your desire for him is strong despite your fear.
Heeseung ignores your words as he takes you by surprise when he roughly pulls you to him until your legs go rooted to the floor. A gasp leaves your lips at how deftly he is manhandling you as he turns you around, one hand on your waist tight and fingers curling around your neck in a threatening manner.
Your heart pounds harder against your chest as you feel his hot breath fanning your earlobe. “It doesn’t change the fact that you made me angry, my love.” His honeyed-dripping voice lulls at you, akin to a siren serenading its victim.
“Oh, yes. I’m still very angry at you.” He whispers darkly into your ear before he forces your pliant body to bend down until your stomach comes into contact with the surface of the table.
“Heeseung, please.” You have no idea why you are pleading with him. For him to show mercy? For him to fuck you?
His dark chuckles send shivers down your spine as he presses his palm firmly onto your back while the other affectionately rubs your butt cheek. “Plead all you want. By the time I’m done with you, you know better than to cross me again.” You feel his hand moving underneath your skirt before his fingers hook around the string of your underwear. “What’s the safe word?”
“P-Pink.” You utter, flustered at the fact that you actually do want this. At once, he pulls down your underwear as it falls to your ankles. Your heart races in anticipation as you hear shuffles behind you.
“Sweetheart's been bad. You shouldn't have gone around snooping.” He drawls his words out, and you feel your cunt clench at the degradation that belies his tone. His fingers tangle in your hair before grabbing it in a makeshift ponytail and pulling your head with your neck strained.
“Hee….” You whisper fearfully, yet your cunt remains anticipating his cock.
“My pretty sweetheart,” He presses a deep, affectionate kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “You’re going to be good to me, yeah?”
“Yes!” You nod your head frantically, wincing as his grip on your hair is hurting your scalp.
“You’re not going to make me angry anymore?” He asks, humming while your pussy throbs when the tip of his cock rubs up and down against your folds.
“Yes, I won’t make you angry anymore.” You babble, needing him inside of you right now before enticing him with a soft, whimpering voice you know he won’t be able to resist, “Seungie, please─Ah!”
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angelicsoka · 1 month
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TWO WORLDS, j. drysdale
part one <3
word count | 0.8k
pairings | jamie drysdale x single mother!hughes!reader
summary | jamie finally meets the reader’s daughter, isla, and he has just the right thing to prove him worthy of her trust
warnings | not proofread. one use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | here’s part two to blind date! i cant wait to write more of jamie and isla, because they are literally so cute!!!
being a single mother and dating was never something you thought would work well together. well, that was until you met jamie drysdale. he had accepted from the first date that your daughter, isla, always came first. he had also accepted that it would take time for him to finally be introduced to isla, and he fully understood. he anticipated the day he would meet the little girl who your entire world revolved around. after about a month and a half of dating, you had finally decided it was time for your love to meet your baby girl.
jamie anxiously paced his shared apartment with trevor, mumbling to himself as he did so. trevor watched him from the couch, a small smile working its way onto his face. “jamie, dude, relax.” jamie glared at trevor before settling down on the couch beside him.
“z, what if she doesn’t like me?” jamie finally voiced his worries, trevor starting to laugh until he realized jamie was serious. “i really like y/n, and i really don’t want to mess this up.”
“isla will love you! i mean she adores me.” trevor tried to ease jamie’s nerves, but it didn’t do much. “look, if there is anyway to isla’s heart it’s frozen. the kid’s obsessed with it, i mean she literally had a frozen themed birthday party! if you want her to like you, you gotta listen to her talk about it. and trust me, she will talk about it.” jamie listened intently, a plan forming in his head.
a buzzing noise rang through your apartment as you rushed to the door to let jamie in. as he made his way up, you ran around, attempting to clean up the mess isla had decide to make just as jamie had text that he was on his way. “isla! dinner’s almost ready.” jamie knocked on your door, a smile creeping onto his face at the frazzled look on your face.
“hey, baby.” you smiled, kissing him lightly. “sorry for the mess. she found out you were coming over and got very excited.” jamie laughed as you let him in the apartment, taking the pizzas from his hands. “she just couldn't find the perfect dress to wear.” jamie looked around the homey apartment, toys scattered about. he walked further in, hands nervously tugging at the straps of his bag, taking in the comfort that was your apartment; he already felt at home.
“momma?” a voice spoke from down the hallway, a toddler appearing moments later. she had her thumb in her mouth, clearly nervous as she waddled toward you.
“hey, baby doll, there's someone i want you to meet.” you picked her up, walking over to jamie. “jamie meet my daughter, isla. isla, baby, this is mommy’s friend jamie!” jamie smiled kindly at the toddler, who buried her face in your neck as she smiled softly. “can you say hi, isla?”
“hi…” she spoke quietly, almost inaudible, taking a quick glance at jamie. 
“hi, isla, your momma’s told me a lot about you.” isla giggled softly at that, a smile building its way up to her face. “in fact, she told me about your favorite thing in the whole world: frozen.” jamie pulled his bag from off his shoulder, digging around until he found what he was looking for. he pulled out a two-pack doll set, which held elsa and anna, isla’s eyes widening when she saw it. she began to wiggle to get out of your arms, excitement in her eyes. “so, i got you this.” you put isla down, who made her way over to jamie, excited but still slightly cautious. 
you looked at jamie, shocked by his action. you knew he was nervous and wanted to impress her, but you hadn’t expected him to buy a thirty dollar toy for the first time he was going to be meeting her. “isla, love, what do you say?”
“thanks, ‘aime!” you smiled at your daughter as she hugged jamie’s legs, too quick for jamie to reciprocate. she took the toy, giving him a toothy smile before waddling off. 
“baby, why don’t we play with that after we eat, okay?” this seemed to frustrate isla, but she set the toy down nonetheless, taking the hand you offered. “you want to cheese or pepperoni?” 
“cheese.” she said, accepting the plate that held her slice of pizza on it.
“we’ll eat on the couch tonight, okay? we can watch a movie too.”
“frozen!” you laughed, looking to jamie who had been watching the two of you with love and awe. he snapped out of it, absentmindedly agreeing. “‘ome on, we gotta watch together!” isla grabbed jamie’s hand, pulling him to the couch. he looked back, a huge smile on his lips. 
you proceeded to grab pizza for both you and jamie, walking to join them on the couch. you set the plates down, grabbing your phone to take a picture of the sight in front of you: jamie was cutting isla’s pizza into smaller pieces as she rambled on and on about something. 
you smiled as he looked up, giving his pretty smile. in that moment, everything was perfect. 
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thechaoticplayer · 4 months
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Luca smut omg- bratty reader and brat tamer luca 🛐 jsbsjdbjshs i can't stop thinking about it
author's note: JEJEHDIEDHEI 😩😩😩 BRAT TAMER LUCA... TY ANON BC IM A BRAT MYSELF AND OMLLLLLL YES JUST. YES. Also mad shorter than expected but what can I sayyyy
Summary: Brat Tamer Luca has to put your bratty ass into place for all the shit you've been doing to him <3
Contains: FILTHY FILTHY DIRTY SMUT. LUCA KANESHIRO X READER. eatablished relationship, degrading, Luca bullying you and being extremely rough but that's ok bc hes such a daddy, my phone being on 19% and forcing it to work like Luca is with u fr
Mdni or not idgaf
Being the mafia boss's boyfriend came with a shit ton of perks: no one could say anything to you (you can't do this or you're not allowed to do that), you could do basically whatever the hell you want without repercussions, and Luca Kaneshiro spoiled you to death. It wouldn't have come as a surprise if you turned into a brat because of it.
And here you are, whining because your boyfriend has to go meet with some guy he's working with. He's not as important as you are!
"Babe, I have to go, it's important for the mafia," Luca murmurs softly into your hair as you cling to him tightly. Your arms wrapped around his waist and face buried in his chest, you showed no signs of letting go. He sighs. "I'll try my best to make it quick, alright? Just-"
"No!" Your muffled voice replies, before glancing up at him with big eyes. "I want you. To stay."
"Babe..."
"Don't 'babe' me. I guess your mafia is more important than me." You release him and step back, abruptly turning your back towards him, crossing your arms. "Whatever. Bye."
Luca stares at your back for a second, absolutely torn for a second. "What? no, of course you're important-"
"I'm second and always be second, huh?" You saunter to the bed you two share and throw yourself onto it. You rest your hand on your forehead, closing your eyes. "It's fine. Go ahead. I'll just find someone else to play with."
He goes silent. You don't open your eyes.
A beat's worth of silence. "Got nothing to say now, huh?" You scoff, a smirk playing on your lips. "I suppose you've gotten so-"
You yelp as you feel rough hands latch themselves onto your thighs and yank you downwards, and your eyes fly open. Luca leans over you with a dark look in his eyes, brows furrowed in silent anger.
"You suppose ive gotten... what?" The plush of your ass is tightly against his crotch, his gloved hands digging into your skin.
"...soft." His eyes smolder, a fire in his gaze as he leans closer to your face.
"Soft?" He echoes, a sultry chuckle sending a shiver upon your spine. "No no no, I think you got it all wrong, sweetheart..."
The mafia boss hooks your legs over his shoulders, his bigger and wider form trapping you underneath him as he grinds against your wet panties, the skirt your wearing riding up to your hips. You stifle a moan, biting your lip hard.
"You've always liked it when I'm a bit rough with you, hmm?"
"Tch! Don't you have somewhere to be?" You reply haughtily, trying hard for a whimper to not slip past your lips as he grinds slowly.
"It can wait, no? Besides..." Luca's breath tickles your ear. "Theres a certain someone, who needs to be taken care of."
"Yeah. Your friend."
"What a fucking-" Out of nowhere, Luca flips you onto your stomach, leaving you squawking as he spread your legs open, ass in the air. "Brat."
"W-wait a minute!" You stammer as you turn your head to see him rip off his pants and unleashing his cock from its confines, big and hard. The glint in his eyes suggest you were probably not going to be able to walk for a good couple of weeks. "L-Luca, wait!"
"No," he growls, pushing your panties aside and sinking his still gloved fingers into you. A whimper tears itself from your throat as he plunges the digit in and out of your crying hole. "Brats need to be taught a fucking lesson. look at how wet you are. Filthy slut."
"I wouldn't have been- mmph! A b-brat if you didn't leave me all the- ah... t-time!" You blabber, your legs already shaking a bit from how rough and quickly he was fingering you.
"Leave you?" Luca repeats, incredulous. "God, I made you into a fucking brat! Spoiling you all the time, giving you everything you could have ever wanted..."
He slips his finger out, lining up his cock with your entrance. Your mouth almost waters at the sight and he laughs at your lustful expression. "Is this what you want? then I'll gladly give to you, and you won't even dare forget this..."
The mafia boss shoves his girth into, splitting you open. You cry out, hands gripping the sheets as Luca doesn't even allow you to adjust to his size. You were fucked by him plenty of times before, but your hole could never get quite used to his thickness. Luca drills his cock into you, the fat tip kissing your g-spot deliciously so.
The bed squeaks and groans underneath you both, loud moans spilling from your mouth. You turn your face into the pillows, only to be yanked back up. You gasp as Luca forces you to arch, the angle causing you to see stars.
"L-Luca- a-ah! Fuck fuck fuckfuck-" You moan and whimper and whine as Luca's dick pummels itself into you, your walls clenching around him.
"This is what you want, huh?" Luca breaths raggedly into your ear, one hand fondling with your tit. How sensitive you've become, moaning from pure pleasure. "Want me to fuck you dumb?"
"Y-y-you asshole-!"
A sharp snap of his hips force you to choke on another keening moan. "What was that, darling? couldn't catch that."
Only moans answer and he chortles. Luca can feel you getting close, but why stop there? Why not make you wish you never provoked him in the first place? How dare you say that you'll go find someone else to play with in his absence! He tsks as you squirm underneath him. No no, he'll make you beg for him to stop, and even after that he won't obey.
You cum hard around his cock but the mafia boss still bullies himself into you as you twitch. tears rolls down your face as you attempt to scramble away, but Luca pulls you all the way back so now you're riding his cock, back arched against him. You babble sentences don't even make sense as your brain was fucked to mush.
"What's wrong? can't speak anymore?" Luca coos, thrusting himself deeper and deeper. His voice deep and husky, your fluids staining his shirt but he could really care less. "Fucked you so good- what a cock drunk whore."
You whine, skin slapping against skin as you ride his dick, legs shaking and stickiness against your thighs. Luca bites your neck, leaving a trail of bite marks against your dainty skin. He licks from your shoulder to your neck, suckling. Luca can feel the vibrations through your throat as you make such pretty noises for him. Was it possible that he seemed to get even harder and even larger inside of you?
His hips slot up to meet yours and you cum once more, drool dripping down your lips. Luca groans as he feels your walls clench and your hot cum envelopes his dick. He fucks you through your second orgasm until he releases a guttural grunt and shoots his loads deep into your tummy.
"I'm not done," he pants, pulling out of you and throwing you back down on your back. "So far from done."
"L-Luca..." you whimper quietly, body heaving and near close to exhaustion.
He cups a hand to your cheek. "You did this to yourself, pretty girl..."
Luca's mouth hovers over your tit, blowing on it and watching the nipple grow hard. Another chuckle as he pops the tit into his mouth, sucking hard. Your hand finds itself in his blond hair, soft and airy whines in the air. He releases the tit and goes to the other, teeth grazing it.
He kisses down your tummy, opening your legs in the process. The mafia boss lowers to your aching pussy, somehow getting wet all over again. Luca licks a stripe up your abused cunt and a shaky sigh comes out your mouth.
"Horny bitch." Bringing you closer to his mouth, his tongue circles your clit as his hot breaths fan in between your thighs. "Came twice already, and it still isnt enough..."
His entire mouth is on you now, slurping and teasing and sucking. You tug his hair hard, making the mafia boss growl lowly into your pussy. The vibrations add to the upcoming orgasm, your moans filling the room and you were sure everyone within the house could hear. Neither of you gave a damn as he continued his assault on your weeping cunt.
You cum against his face and he laps up every single drop, kissing and biting your thighs while doing so. Your chest rises rapidly up and down, and Luca observes your fucked out expression. Your eyelids are heavy, and you're just about ready to pass out.
Until... "Oh no, you aren't getting any breaks." Luca yanks you back up and turns himself in one smooth motion so now you're kneeling before him, his yet again hard cock in front of your eyes. "Suck, whore."
You eagerly take the cock in your hands, the slick from both parties still covered all over it.
There is definitely more where that's coming from.
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