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#most likely not gonna write a fic about this but if anyone does feel free to let me know (I wanna read <3)
nighternex · 3 months
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Something lurks in the dark...
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This was originally just supposed to be lethal company art until my funky little brain told me the bracken would look pretty if it had leaves/ferns on its head.
Then mid-way through sketching another bit of my brain whispered that it looked kinda like Sun from fnaf don't he?
Well one thing spiraled into another and now the hoarder bug is a mini-music man and the bracken is the daycare attendant. 👍
Good night everyone.
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andvys · 10 months
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We're no good alone | S.H. & E.M.
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Part two of It's just us
Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! rough smut, threesome, spanking, choking, manhandling, mentions of unrequited love and heartbreak, mentions of cheating, slight angst, fluff, happy ending
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | slight Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson
Summary: As you and Steve put your rivalry aside, you grow closer and closer and take another step forward when Steve befriends the man who once broke your heart. @mysticmunson thank you for the idea with the polaroid picture!
Word count: 14k+
Author's note: I'm not too sure about this but I didn't just write 14k words for nothing so I hope you're gonna like it
Read the prequel story about Eddie x reader here -> For me it's always you (more parts coming soon)
stranger things masterlist
Feel free to send in requests for drabbles/blurbs for this fic!
-
This has to be one of the weirdest days in your life, first you hooked up with Steve after finding out that your boyfriend had cheated on you with his girlfriend and now you are sitting at Benny’s diner, sharing fries with him and drinking vanilla milkshakes as though it’s the most normal thing for you both to do. It’s not. You hate each other’s guts, you always did. The rivalry had already started in middle school and carried on until now. 
You were disgusted by everything he said and done and yet that didn’t stop you from having sex with him. You let him take out his frustrations on you and he let you too, it was merely hate fucking, that’s all. Right?
It felt good, he made you feel good. You needed it after what you had run into a few days back. 
You never thought that Jonathan would do this to you, that he would hurt you like this but it seems like every guy that you want, doesn’t actually want you. It’s not the first time you have been hurt by men like him, he wasn’t the first. 
He may not know it but he ripped open wounds that you had gotten before him. 
Why aren’t you enough for them? 
What does she have that you don’t have? 
“Stop it.” 
“Stop what?” 
“Stop thinking those thoughts,” Steve sighs. 
“How would you know what I’m thinking about?” You snap at him, rolling your eyes. 
He chuckles, shaking his head at you, he dips his fries into the ketchup, taking his time to answer the question, he eats the fries and drinks his milkshake. 
You have to admit, he looks pretty. His hair is messy from all your tugging, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are filled with.. peace? For someone who just got cheated on, he looks awfully relaxed and content. 
“It’s because I’m thinking them too,” he admits, “but don’t think that you aren’t enough, y/n. You are enough.”
You brows knit together, you stare at him without saying anything. 
His hazel eyes flash with something unrecognizable, he smiles a little, “anyone would be lucky to have you.” 
“You’re just saying that,” you mumble as you play with your straw, “you have to say that.”
“It’s the truth. I know you hate me but I’m not lying to you,” he shrugs, clearing his throat, he looks away from you, suddenly too shy to hold eye contact, “we might not get along but you’re not that bad, you know? You’ve been a good girlfriend to him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you being annoying or mean with him, like you’re with me,” he chuckles, eyes raking over your body, “plus, you’re like really hot and pretty and way out of his league.” 
A smirk tugs at your lips, his cheeks grow more red as he continues to look anywhere but at you. 
“Does someone have a little crush on me?” 
He rolls his eyes, “shut up, no I don’t.” 
He used to have a crush on you, actually, he was pretty sure he was frozen in place the first time he saw you. 12 year old Steve was pretty sure that he was in love with the pretty girl that just moved to Hawkins after her parents decided to come back from the big city. He liked you but he sure had a funny way of showing it, instead of befriending you like he should have, he pulled at your pigtails and shoved you around. 
You giggle as he glares at you. Leaning back in your seat, you look him up and down, “you’re not too bad either but I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.” 
He scrunches his face up in confusion, furrowing his brows, “we literally just fucked at the party and then you made me stop the car because you wanted to suck my dick.” 
“That was in the past,” you say, blushing. 
“That was 20 minutes ago, you let me cum inside you.”
“Well you bend me over the car.”
“Because you asked me to!” 
“I like your dick, it’s really big.” 
A sharp gasp makes you tear your eyes away from his, looking up, you find a middle aged lady looking at the two of you in disgust. The cross necklace around her neck clutched in her hand, she looks at you in disgust, frowning as she looks between you both. 
“Sinners!” She sputters before she continues walking, glancing at you one more time with a horrified expression on her face. 
You and Steve look back at each other, only being able to contain the laughter for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. His hazel eyes are filled with amusement, he puts his hand on his stomach as he leans back, “did you see her face?” 
You nod, still laughing at the older lady.
“I think she’s gonna go pray for us now,” you giggle. 
“It’s no use, we’re already sinners,” Steve snorts. 
The ring above the door sounds through the diner, you look behind Steve’s shoulder almost instantly. Your smile falls when your eyes lock with those brown eyes. For a moment he stares at you, not moving, he just stands there and looks at you. 
Steve straightens up, face growing serious when he sees the annoyance in your eyes and lingering sadness, your brows are furrowed and you glare at whoever it is that you’re looking at. As he turns around he expects it to be Jonathan but instead it’s Eddie Munson who is receiving the death stare from you. 
Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. Now that he knows that you have hooked up with Eddie in the past, he can’t help but wonder what else has happened. Clearly, it wasn’t just casual hookups the way you described it earlier to him, you giggled and mentioned it as though it was nothing meaningful but that was obviously a lie. 
Eddie is staring at you with his big puppy dog eyes, while you stare at him with the look that only he ever received in the past. 
He tears his eyes away from you and they flash with confusion when he looks at him. Steve can imagine what kinds of questions are running through his mind right now, ‘why is she here with him?’, ‘where are Jonathan and Nancy?’, ‘why are they here together?’ 
It’s no secret to others that you and Steve don’t get along, the whole school knows about your rivalry. 
He looks at you one more time before he finally turns away and walks towards the counter. 
Steve turns back to you with a curious look on his face, your arms are crossed, your jaw is clenched and you look out the window, blinking. 
“Are you… okay?” Steve asks almost skeptically. 
“Don’t act like you care, Harrington,” you snap at him again, giving him the usual bratty attitude. 
He sighs, rolling his eyes. 
“Can you drive me home?” 
“No.” 
Your lips part, glaring at him, you scoff, “what do you mean no?” 
Steve smirks, “say please and I’ll drive you home.” 
“Seriously?” 
“Yes.” 
You huff angrily, rolling your eyes. It amuses him. 
“I can walk home,” you shrug. Getting up, you reach for your purse and smooth down your skirt. 
“You think I’ll let you walk home?”
“Well, you said you won’t drive me home,” you counter. 
“Just be nicer, jeez.” 
“I’m not nice.” 
He gets up as well and looks at you as he reaches for his wallet, throwing some money on the table, “did anyone ever tell you that you’re a brat?”
You feel his eyes on you and it’s making your skin crawl. You step closer to Steve, batting your eyelashes at him, “can you please drive me home, Steve?” You ask as you reach for his hand. 
His lips curl into a smirk, he knows exactly why you are doing this. 
“Yeah, let’s go.” 
He places his hand on the small of your back and looks down at you as he leads you out of the diner, you are not looking at him but he is looking at you, with both a frown on his face and confusion. He doesn’t even notice that Steve is looking, he only pays attention to you. 
You let out a loud sigh when you step out of the diner, breathing in the fresh air. Neither of you speak up, at least not until you’re back in his car. 
“So.. what happened with you and Munson?” Steve asks, watching the way you tense up, “I thought it was just casual hookups.” 
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Eddie Munson was just another boy who broke your heart. Jonathan was the one who put it back together, only to hurt it was well. 
You moved on from it, at least you thought you did. Jonathan’s and Nancy’s betrayal wasn’t the only painful memories on your mind the past few days, they also brought you back to him. 
Steve tilts his head as he watches you, he will find out what happened. 
“So what now?” 
“What do you mean?”
He sighs, getting more comfortable in his seat, he puts his hand on the steering wheel, running his hand through his hair, he looks at his own expression in the rearview mirror before turning to you. 
“You do know that we’re gonna be the laughing stock of the school, right?” 
You shrug, furrowing your brows you stare at him like you don’t understand the problem. You don’t care about it, you don’t care that people will laugh at you, that they will make fun of you. That is something Steve always admired about you, you just don’t give a damn about other people, you do and say whatever you want, not caring about what others will think or say. 
“I don’t want that.” 
You snort, “why would they laugh at you?” 
Steve sighs again, eyes flashing with confusion, he brings his hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, “we dated two outcasts, two…–”
“Losers? We dated two losers?” You mumble, nodding, “yes we did, they are fucking losers for what they did.” 
“Exactly! We got fucked over by losers, y/n!” 
“Oh my god, Harrington, do you seriously care about what people will have to say about it? Do you think that I give a fuck? They can laugh and talk shit, I don’t care. I literally just lost my boyfriend and my best friend!” You say angrily, throwing your hands up as frustrated tears well up in your eyes, “my best friend, Steve! She was with me since we were little! I don’t even care about what he did, I’ll move on from that but her? She was supposed to be my friend.” 
His eyes flash with guilt but also with sympathy. He lost her too, a girl he thought he would spend his life with but it must be so much harder for you. 
“Y/n..” 
“What do you want? Do you want to hurt them? Do you want us to be together so you can get back at them?” You ask, “trust me they won’t fucking care, obviously they’re like in love or something.”
You wipe your tears angrily and slump back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window, only now noticing the van parked next to you. 
“Can you just drive?”
“Yeah.. sure,” he mumbles, finally starting the car. “You think they’re in love?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe, rubbing your forehead, “I’m not blind, Steve. I could see the way they looked at each other, I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.” 
Steve swallows harshly, eyes flashing with sadness, “oh..” 
“Yeah, oh.” 
He thinks about it, is he hurt by it? A little. Is he heartbroken? Not really. He doesn’t understand it, when he first caught them, he threw up and felt like crying his eyes out but now after what happened with you, he suddenly feels… okay.
The car is filled with silence aside from the music on the radio. Too many things are running through your mind as you drive through the empty streets of Hawkins but you try to focus on something else, you try to focus on the fact that you are here with Steve. 
Things should feel awkward between you, especially after what happened at the party and here in his car but it doesn’t, if anything it feels natural, surprisingly. Not that you would ever admit that to yourself. 
Kissing him, touching him, having sex with him felt nice. Even sharing fries and spending time with him felt nice, it makes you wonder why you ever hated him in the first place, why he hated you. 
You look over at him, staring at his side profile. His chiseled jaw, the light stubble on his skin, his stupid perfect hair. Your eyes trail down to his shoulder, his arm and his hand, his veiny hands. 
You lick your lips, Steve is handsome, pretty and sexy. You had never seen his beauty before, not until tonight. Suddenly you feel yourself wanting him more. Not wanting this to be a one time thing. 
Nancy is an idiot. 
“Steve?” 
“Yes?” 
“We should be friends.” 
His eyes widen, he blinks a few times, lips parting and closing again. 
“F-Friends?” 
“Mhmm.” 
He parks his car in your driveway, staring at your house for a moment, he takes a deep breath and turns to you, “friends?” He asks, pointing his finger between you and him, “you want us to be friends?” 
“You literally wanted to fake a relationship–”
“Who said anything about fake?” 
“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “you and I? We would never work.” 
“Why not?” He shrugs. 
“Uh– maybe because you hate me and I hate you?” 
“I don’t hate you,” he scoffs, “I just hate that little attitude of yours, you need to be put in your place.” 
A laugh falls from your lips, “yeah well, you’re not exactly brat tamer material, Steve.” 
He smirks, eyes twinkling, “oh so you admit that you’re a brat?” 
“No..” 
He chuckles at the frown on your face, leaning closer to you, he puts his fingers under your chin, “you know what? I can be your friend but please tell me that we can do all this again.” 
You bite your lip and look deeply into his eyes, “please.” 
His eyes light up, he brings you closer, looking down at your lips. His nose bumps against yours as he smashes his lips against yours. You respond to the kiss with desperation, throwing your arms around his neck, you bury your hand in his hair. 
He moans into the kiss, a sound that is enough to make you shiver again. 
“Do you wanna come inside?” You murmur against his lips, pecking them again. 
“What about your parents?” Steve asks as he continues to steal kisses from you. 
“We’ll have to be quiet,” you breathe. 
“Can you be quiet?” He smirks as he kisses your cheek, “wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to catch their good little girl getting ruined by Steve Harrington.” 
“Shut up, can you be quiet?” 
“Let’s find out.” 
-
Your weekends usually consist of movie nights with Jonathan, Nancy and Steve. Getting food at Benny’s diner, sleepovers with your best friend or a shopping trip to Starcourt mall. 
You expected tears of sadness and anger for this weekend but instead you got something else. 
After spending the night at your place, he took you back to his house the next day. His parents weren’t home, you got the house to yourselves. 
You took your frustrations out on one another, he fucked you on every surface of his house, making you forget about anything that ever hurt you. He marked you up, he kissed every inch of your body, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your chest, you gave him some in return, you worshiped him, making him feel something that she could never make him feel. 
Steve fucked you like he hated you, probably because he did but you didn’t mind. You felt good and he made you forget, that’s all you wanted and needed. 
You ignored Nancy’s and Jonathan’s calls, you expected them to show up at some point but it seemed as though neither of them were brave enough to actually face you, luckily. You didn’t want to see them and Steve didn’t either. 
You stayed at his house for two days. Your usual movie night was different this time, Jonathan and Nancy weren’t there and thank god they weren’t. Making out with Steve and riding him on his big sofa was better than watching some stupid movie and cuddling up to your lying, cheating, partners. 
You even made use of the polaroid that Steve bought but never really used before. 
To say that you had fun this weekend would be an understatement. 
But of course, you still hate each other. 
When you walked down the hallways at school this morning, all eyes were on you and Steve. For the first time, you walked together, side by side. 
It was no secret that you hated each other, you were often found bickering during class, at the cafeteria during lunch and in the hallways. But there you were, walking next to him in your cheerleader uniform, hair perfectly styled and makeup looking pretty on your face, a bright smile resting on your face as you looked up at King Steve, who gave you a cocky smile as he carried your books. 
The hickeys on your neck were perfectly on display as were his. 
You almost burst out laughing when people started whispering, pointing to the two of you. It was a scandal. 
You and Steve had fun with it, especially when you caught the eyes of Nancy and Jonathan, who both stared at you in confusion before they disappeared in a classroom. 
You enjoyed the attention and so did he, you were amused by it. 
You couldn’t help but wonder what they would react like if you walked hand in hand, while stealing kisses from each other. 
Maybe someday..
-
He should be paying attention to class, he really should but his mind is occupied by you. After spending a whole weekend with you, he had a sudden change of heart. His feelings had developed into something else and it confuses him. 
He should be hurt, heartbroken and in agonizing pain. He should be crying and pining after the girl that he thought he loved so much but instead his thoughts are elsewhere. 
Maybe you fucked the pain out of him. 
He sighs, looking down at his notes, he finds the page blank, he will have to steal them from Robin again. 
He looks around, eyes falling on the man that intrigues him ever since he had learned about your little affair. He tried to find out more about your past with Eddie but you always shut down, refusing to talk about it. You seemed hurt, just hearing his name made you tense up. What happened? 
You seemed less hurt by Jonathan’s actions than by Eddie’s. What did he do? 
“You’ll be working in pairs for this assignment, you can pick your partner.” 
Steve looks around, staring at people switching seats. Then his eyes fall back on Eddie, who remains in his seat with his head down. 
Grabbing his books, he gets up and walks towards him, settling in the free seat next to him, he slams the books on the table, startling the metalhead who looks up at him in confusion. 
“W-What are you doing?” He mumbles, eying Steve with shock on his face, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, like he expects to be jumped by him. 
Steve chuckles, “we gotta work in pairs,” he shrugs. 
“I always work alone.” 
“Well, today you aren’t,” Steve says. 
Eddie continues to stare at him with raised brows, looking around, he almost expects someone from the basketball team to stare at him with smirks and anticipated looks on their faces as they wait for the King to pull some sort of prank but no one even looks at him.
“Okay,” he mumbles, turning back again.
“Relax buddy, I just wanna work with you.” 
“Why?” Eddie mumbles grumpily. 
Steve shrugs, “I just do.” 
“Yeah, you expect me to believe that?” 
Steve rolls his eyes, he can’t blame Eddie, he doesn’t have it easy at school but he never did anything to him, he can be an asshole but he is no bully. 
“Whatever, man. Let’s just work on this assignment.” 
“What’s the assignment?” Eddie asks. 
Steve shrugs, “I don’t know.” 
Eddie huffs, throwing his pencil on his notebook, “aren’t you trying to graduate this year?” 
“Aren’t you trying to graduate again?” Steve counters as he slams his notebook open, forgetting about the pictures he had slipped in there earlier. It falls on Eddie’s lap, who looks down at it, eyes widening. 
Eddie takes the picture, he stares at it in surprise. His lips part in shock. It’s a picture of someone’s boobs. It’s not a challenge to figure out who’s body this is, he had definitely seen and touched it before, he is pretty sure he has a picture of them too, somewhere. 
He can’t see a face or hair in this picture, only the neck and the chest that is littered in hickeys and bite marks, a hand on the lower stomach, fingernails painted black, a pink skirt bunched up at the waist, nipple piercings. 
It’s you. 
His stomach drops, his eyes flash with anger and jealousy, he doesn’t want it to be you. 
Steve watches him in anticipation, he might have done it on purpose, wanting to find out how the metalhead would react to it. 
Eddie pushes the picture into Steve’s hand, looking up at him, “who’s that?” 
The look on Eddie’s face is almost comical to Steve, his nostrils are flared, lips set in a frown as he stares at him with jealousy in his eyes. Shouldn’t he be used to it already? You’ve been dating Jonathan. Did he ever glare at him? Did he ever stare at him with anger and jealousy on his face? Steve wishes that he would have paid attention to Eddie before.
Steve chuckles in amusement. Putting the picture back into the notebook, he turns to one of the nerds, asking about the assignment. 
“Harrington,” Eddie hisses, “who is it?” He asks, despite knowing the answer already. Everything about the picture just tells him that it is you, from the shape of your body to the pink skirt you have worn before. 
Eddie continues bugging him throughout the whole lesson, he should be focusing on the assignment but he can’t get the picture out of his mind. 
“I thought you’d be able to recognize her,” Steve says smugly, “given that you two have fucked before.”
Eddie wants to ask and say so many things but he is shocked and confused. 
Steve is dating Nancy. 
You are dating Jonathan. 
You hate Steve Harrington, at least you always said you did, was it all just a lie? 
Eddie storms out of the classroom the moment the bell rings, he rushes out into the hallway, leaving a smug looking Steve behind. 
-
Skipping the last period seemed to be the best decision to make, it’s the one class you share with both Jonathan and Nancy, you don’t feel like seeing either of them, it’s been difficult enough to avoid them all day. 
Sitting on the ground at the library, you’re flipping through the pages of some random book about nature, you tried reading something but your mind is just too occupied by other things, you can’t focus. 
“Hey.” 
You freeze at the sound of his voice. You raise your head slowly. Eddie Munson. You can’t even remember the last time you had talked to him and you wish it would have stayed that way, you don’t want to talk to him, in fact, you would even rather talk to Jonathan and Nancy, that’s how bad it is.
“What do you want?” 
“Can we talk?”
“No?” You snort, rolling your eyes at him, you shake your head in disbelief, looking back down at the book, you flip to the next page, pretending to read. 
He sighs, “please?” 
“Fuck off, Munson,” you mumble, “you should go before someone sees you with a popular cheerleader, don’t wanna ruin your perfect reputation.” 
Eddie scoffs, huffing in annoyance. 
“You’re still pissed about that?” 
“No, I’m just saying,” you mumble as you slam the book shut and throw it to the ground before you get up, reaching for your book, you walk into the other direction, not bothering to even look at him but Eddie has different plans. He rushes after you, moving in front of you to keep you from walking away. 
All he gets is an annoyed look before you turn the other way but he is quick to push you against the bookshelf, caging you against it. 
“Are you serious? Let me go!” You whisper, trying to push him away. 
He shakes his head stubbornly, looking into your eyes intently. 
“What the fuck do you want from me, Munson?” 
“Are you still mad at me?” 
Your eyes show nothing but anger but you pretend not to be, “no, I just don’t feel like talking to you.” 
Eddie Munson broke your heart, hurting you with harsh words and pushing you away just when you had confessed your love for him. 
“You’re fucking Harrington?” He asks, completely ignoring your answer.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the look in his eyes is one of jealousy and anger. They flicker down to your neck, staring at all the hickeys on your skin, recognition flashing in his dark eyes. 
“That’s what you wanna talk to me about?” You scoff. 
You really wanna keep your cool, show him that you left him behind in the past, where he belongs. You hate him. You hate him more than you hate Jonathan who cheated on you, something that you thought would rip your heart out, surprisingly it didn’t but maybe that’s because Eddie had done it for him long before. 
What does he even want from you? He hasn’t spoken to you since the night he left you standing in the rain. He was the reason you started dating Jonathan in the first place, you found comfort in him when he had found you crying behind the school weeks after your fallout with Eddie, he comforted you, placed his jacket around your shoulders and asked if you wanted to listen to a tape he had just made. 
Jonathan was sweet, he loved music and driving around, taking you to the movies. He did what Eddie used to do, maybe that’s why you liked him so much. He filled the hole that he had left behind. 
Something about Eddie has changed, not only do you see a new tattoo peeking out of his shirt, his hair also got longer, he uses a different cologne now, he probably stopped using Wayne’s cologne or maybe Wayne changed his and Eddie is still stealing it. New pins are on his vest and he seems more mature. You know that he is still the same dork as before, still joking around with his friends like a young and careless teen, he still jumps on tables and holds speeches knowing that he will get shit for it afterwards but there is something in his eyes that had changed. A flicker of sadness and emptiness that wasn’t there before. 
You haven’t been this close to him since the last year and you hate yourself for admitting that you miss him. 
You always missed him. You used to feel awful for still thinking about him when Jonathan kissed you, when he touched you or even when he just held your hand, you always thought about him. The last weekend was the first time that you haven’t thought about him, not even a single moment. 
Jonathan couldn’t make you forget but Steve did. 
“You’re dating Byers,” he mumbles, “and you’re fucking your best friend’s boyfriend?” 
So, word hasn’t gotten around yet? You’re surprised, considering you told Heather about it, not that she’s much on gossip but she tends to have a loose mouth when she’s drunk. 
“And so what if I do?” You ask, tilting your head. You don’t miss the look in his eyes when he stares at your lips for a moment. 
“That’s not you, sweetheart.” 
Sweetheart, god you want to rip your hair out. 
“And what do you know about me?” You ask, clenching your jaw angrily. 
He grimaces at your question, stepping even closer to you, “I know everything about you.” 
“No, you don’t,” you shake your head, “now back off.” 
Eddie hesitates, what reason would he have to talk to you? What right does he have to ask you any questions? He was the one who pushed you out of his life, he was the one who rejected you, he was the one who didn’t want you. What a lie. God, you will never know how much he really wanted you, how much he still wants you.
He felt like a goddamn fool when he saw you with Jonathan Byers, knowing that he could’ve been the one by your side, if he wasn’t so scared. 
He steps away and drops his arm to his sides, eyes flashing with sadness as you quickly pull away from him. His gaze follows you.
You halt in your tracks, taking a deep breath before you whirl around to face him again. You cannot stand him and his stupid puppy eyes. He looks at you as though you were the one who hurt him. 
“To answer your question, no, I’m not with Jonathan anymore and I didn’t fuck my best friend’s boyfriend, she fucked mine. Steve caught them and the next day I caught them as well.” 
Eddie’s eyes widen, he looks shocked and confused. 
“W-What?” He mumbles in disbelief, “shit, sweetheart. I’m sorry–”
“Save it, Munson,” you scoff, looking away from him as your eyes well up with angry tears. 
“Who would cheat on you..” 
What is that supposed to mean? Wasn’t he the one who made you feel like you weren’t enough for him? 
“Yeah and who would ever hurt me?” You ask as you plaster a smile on your face. The guilty look on his face makes you mad. “Whatever, I seem to be going for the wrong guys all the time.” 
He whispers your name. 
“But that’s fine, I guess I learnt my lesson,” you shrugs, “I should look for ones that are just as stuck up and boring as me, huh?” 
He looks down, feeling ashamed of the words he used to hurt you. 
You leave after a moment, storming out of the library. You want to leave him behind just like you want to leave Nancy and Jonathan behind.
But it turns out to be a challenge. You and Steve continue your newly found friendship. Weeks go by and after a few confrontations with your ex partners, they finally leave you alone. You no longer want to resume your friendship with Nancy, she cried and apologized to you, telling you that she didn’t want to lose you but she didn’t do much to prove it, especially when she just started dating your ex boyfriend. 
Moving on will never be easy but you have him now. You and Steve still fight, you still use every opportunity to piss him off and in return, he does the same. You love making each other mad, you love heated arguments, ones that lead to sex. 
You sneak out of class just to make out with him in the bathroom. Every time he throws you a note, you can feel his excited eyes on you but also the one’s of Eddie, who seemed to be interested to make a comeback in your life.
Not that you will ever let him. 
You are focused on other things. Cheer practice, studying, girls nights with friends from the cheer squad and most importantly spending time with King Steve.
You found comfort in each other, maybe you were just no good alone but you like being around him. What starts off with a weird friendship with your enemy ends up developing into something bigger. A few months back you couldn’t even stand being around each other for longer than 10 minutes, now you can’t be without each other. Steve is surprisingly a really clingy guy and you don’t mind it. 
After using your parents money to book a vacation, you spend your spring break on the east coast, using fake IDs to buy drinks and using Mr. Harrington’s credit card to rent a yacht. You both have wealthy parents, might as well use their money to have fun. 
When Steve had suggested going on that trip, you didn’t expect to come back as his girlfriend but you did and for some insane reason, you love it. 
A part of you still struggles to trust his intentions but you still agreed on becoming his. 
What’s more insane is the fact that Steve had somehow befriended Eddie. Out of all people he could’ve started a friendship with, it of course had to be the guy that broke your heart. Apparently they had worked on an assignment together and ‘hit it off’. You should be pissed but he doesn’t really know what happened with you and him and you cannot blame him for liking him, Eddie is.. amazing. And Steve deserves to have more friends. 
After cutting off Tommy a while back, Steve only really had Nancy, Jonathan and well you. Robin Buckley was one of his friends as well but they only ever hung out at work together, only having brief conversations at school. 
For two months, he followed you around like a lost puppy after the breakup with Nancy. Spending lunch with you and your cheer squad instead of hanging out with the guys from the basketball team, why? You will never know, maybe it had something to do with his dislike for Jason Carver or Billy Hargrove but Steve preferred to stick to your side, that is until he and Eddie became friends.
You are not sure which one of them is playing a game though, is it Eddie who uses your boyfriend to sneak his way back into your life? Or is it your boyfriend himself, who is trying to test you to see if there are any remaining feelings left for his new friend?
You did tell him a little about your past but you didn’t want to give away too much, not wanting to admit that he hurt you as much as he did. Steve isn’t stupid though, it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out that what you felt for Eddie was deeper than you wanted to admit. 
It also really wasn’t a challenge to figure out that you started dating Jonathan in hopes that he could be like him. 
Maybe, he should feel insecure, feel scared and worried that he might lose you to another man just like he lost Nancy but your feelings for him are genuine, even when your mind keeps taking you back to the other man. He can see it in your eyes, though you still act stubborn at times and pretend that he doesn’t mean that much to you, he knows it’s all just an act. 
You love Steve in a way Nancy couldn’t and he loves you in a way Jonathan couldn’t. 
But there is also someone else that loves you and despite his jealous nature, Steve doesn’t mind it, as odd as it is. 
The more time he spends with him, the more he finds a liking towards Eddie, much to your demise. You don’t mind it, you just hate being around him. 
It’s been easy to ignore him and his puppy dog eyes at first but once he realized that he is not getting any of your attention, he suddenly became a menace. He went from being apologetic to annoying, real quick. 
He uses every opportunity to tease you, making sly comments and trying to flirt with you and Steve doesn’t even seem to mind, if anything, he finds it amusing. Watching his new friend getting on your nerves and getting the treatment from you that only he usually gets. 
You should be mad at Steve for letting Eddie treat you like this but you can’t, not when you like it deep down. 
Eddie stole the spot that used to belong to Steve, now he is your annoying 'enemy'. 
Wherever Steve goes, Eddie goes. Just like tonight. 
A date night with your boyfriend turns into one with Eddie as well. 
Sitting on Steve’s lap, you play with his hair, occasionally turning to look at the other man in the room, who smokes his blunt and drinks his beer as he talks to Steve about his stupid band that you used to love. 
Steve’s large hand is resting on your hip, playing with the soft material of your skirt as he nods along to Eddie’s words. 
“Babe,” you cut Eddie off, not even sparing him a glance as you look at your boyfriend, “are you ever gonna order that pizza?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, “I’m getting hungry and bored.” 
Steve sighs, “don’t be rude, he was talking.” 
“Who?” You feign, giving him a confused look. Smiling in satisfaction when you hear Eddie mumbling something under his breath. 
You smile at him as you lean in to kiss his neck. He takes in a sharp breath, hand gripping your hip tighter causing your skirt to ride up a little. He can’t help but look over at Eddie to see his reaction, just as expected, Eddie is staring at you with such intensity in his eyes that it makes Steve shiver. 
“Baby,” he warns but you don’t listen. You never do. 
Eddie is both jealous and angry, though he admires the view, staring at your exposed skin as Steve touches your hip. 
Steve raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak but before he can even form a word, you smash your lips against his, kissing him roughly. 
His eyes widen in surprise but he can’t even stop the moan from falling. You throw your leg over his lap and straddle him, placing your hands on his neck and deepen the kiss as your tongue meets his. 
Eddie swallows harshly, placing his blunt down, he tightens his grip on the bottle. His jaw clenches and his eyes flash with anger and jealousy. You are doing this on purpose, to taunt him. 
He likes Steve but right now, he hates him for being able to touch and kiss you like this, wishing it was him instead. He leans back against the sofa, eyes trailing down to your ass that Steve is squeezing roughly as he starts making out with you. Your skirt rides up further, exposing the black thong that you’re wearing. You’re rolling your hips, grinding against your boyfriend as you moan into his mouth. 
Eddie clenches his hand into a fist, tensing up, he shifts around, uncomfortably, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper a small ‘please’. 
He would love nothing more than to be in Steve’s place right now. To hold you and kiss you. 
Steve pulls away with a groan, “behave yourself.” 
A giggle leaves your lips and after pecking his lips one more time, you pull away and settle back on the couch, smirking at the bulge in your boyfriend’s jeans. 
He blushes, running his fingers through his hair, he gets up, trying to hide the obvious tent in his pants, “I’m gonna order the pizza,” he mumbles as he rushes out of the living room without looking at Eddie. 
You look at the tv for a moment before your eyes find Eddie’s. He is glaring at you. You smile in satisfaction, raising your hand, you look at your freshly manicured fingernails as you begin to hum some song. 
Eddie is seething, this is not the first time you had kissed Steve in front of him but usually it was nothing more than a peck. 
He scoffs as he raises the bottle to his lips. Right now, he can’t stand you. 
He can’t stand the way you look so pretty, the way you sit there looking so innocent after what you just did. He hates the way the room smells like your sweet perfume despite the lingering smoke in the air. He hates the way you hate him. 
He reaches for the blunt, placing it between his lips, he lights it up with the lighter that Steve threw on the table earlier. 
You look at him, tilting your head, “what’s wrong?” You ask him sweetly.
He screws up his face, shrugging, “nothing.” 
You get up and his eyes widen when you walk towards him. He stares at the way your skirt hugs your body perfectly, the way your top slides up your stomach a little, exposing some of your skin, you’re not wearing a bra, he can see your nipple piercings. You lick your puffy lips and lean down in front of him, placing your hand on his knee, you reach for the blunt between his lips. 
He gulps, eyes growing wider and breath hitching in his throat. He licks his lips, staring into your eyes as you inhale the smoke. 
Eddie can’t even help it, he leans closer to you, placing his hand over yours, his fingertips trace your skin. 
You look down for a second, staring at his hand and at his rings, your gaze softens for a moment and then you look back into his eyes. 
He whispers your name, you blink, eyes falling down to his lips. 
But it all just lasts for a second before you place the blunt back between his lips and walk away from him. Sitting back down on the sofa and looking away with a clenched jaw. 
“Sweetheart–”
“Don’t.” 
Steve walks back into the room, sensing the tension right away. He looks between the two of you, noticing the anger in your eyes and the longing in his. 
He sighs, trying to lighten the mood, he smiles at you, “pizza is on the way,” he says as he settles back next to you, “you wanna watch Halloween now?” 
“Sure..”
-
The graduation party is finally over, you no longer have to listen to the awful pop music, red solo cups are all over the place. Steve’s house is a mess. You’re both lucky that his parents aren’t home until the end of next week. 
The night started off well, you got ready in his bathroom, had a few drinks before the party even started and made out with him on one of the pool loungers before the guest started coming in. 
Now you’re seething, rolling your eyes at him and scoffing at whatever he is saying as you’re cleaning up the mess. It’s silly, you have to admit and you know you’re acting like a brat for no reason but getting the piss out of him will just always be your thing. 
You’re proud of him, you really are. He made it, he graduated, got his diploma and he is free to do whatever he wants now. He doesn’t have to go back to high school, he doesn’t have to see Nancy or Jonathan again. You’re just so scared that he will leave you behind, walk away from you and pretend like you were never a part of his life. 
Maybe you are overthinking it, maybe you are just hurt from the men before or maybe you are simply broken. 
But right now, you’re angry, especially after seeing one of the girls trying to flirt with him. He didn’t pay her any mind, he didn’t even smile at her or react to the way she was eying him up and down, he politely rejected her and pushed her hand off of his arm and yet it pissed you off, why did he let her get this close in the first place? 
“Asshole.” 
“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs as he watches you rush past him. 
“You heard me!” You snap at him as you slam the door open and walk towards the counter, slamming your red solo cups down, you turn around and open the fridge, getting yourself a cold coke. 
“Why am I an asshole?” He asks with a confused and angry face, closing the door to the luckily empty kitchen. 
“You let that bitch touch you!” You yell as you close the fridge, glaring at your boyfriend. 
Steve knows that this isn’t the only thing that caused this sudden outburst, you have been acting weird and sensitive for the past few weeks. 
“Honey,” he mumbles as he takes a deep breath, putting his hands together he walks towards you, “I pushed her hand off, I didn’t even talk to her!” 
You clench your jaw, tearing your gaze away from him, you sigh angrily, “yes, you did.” 
Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knows that you won’t just drop it, you’re gonna mop around and continue trying to get on his nerves. 
“Jesus, I didn’t.”
You stare at him with fire in your eyes. Oh, you’re mad, mad. He knows that there is more behind your anger, it’s not just about that girl, you’re not even the jealous type or maybe you are, maybe you were just too good at hiding it before. 
Steve shakes his head, walking towards you, he tries to reach out for you but you push his hands away, “just go to your new girlfriend, you seemed to like staring at her fucking tits.”
You both know that he wasn’t staring at her tits, in fact, he wasn’t staring at her at all. He looked uncomfortable and glanced at you, reaching for your hand, he pulled you in and placed his hand on the small of your back, you were there the whole time. He wasn’t staring, he wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t doing anything. 
“Jesus christ,” he sighs in annoyance, rolling his eyes, “are you really starting this again?” 
“Starting what?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. 
Steve’s eyes fall to your chest, staring at your tits. 
“Starting some stupid fight just so I will fuck your brains out.” 
You tilt your head, scoffing, “why would I want you to fuck me?” You ask him, as though he isn’t your boyfriend, as though you don’t beg for his touches, as though you aren’t obsessed with him. 
“Oh, so you’re gonna act like you’re not obsessed with me?” 
You scoff, giving him a disapproving look, “trust me, I’m not obsessed with you.” 
He rolls his eyes at your words, stepping closer to you, “you’re such a brat,” he says as he places his hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling. 
“You’re the brat, Harrington.” 
He looks back down at you with darkened eyes. The pout on your face is cute but the mischief in your eyes irritates him. 
“What do you want, honey?” 
You shrug, biting your lip, you eye him up and down. Grabbing him by his belt, you pull him closer to you. Instantly, his hands reach for your waist and he pulls you flush against him. Standing on your tippy toes, you lean in and give him a kiss, “I want you to stop being a dick.” 
He looks into your eyes and raises his brows, he grabs your jaw, “oh, I’m a dick now?” 
“Mhmm, yes you are,” you nod, “you’re a dick, Steve Harrington.” 
“And you’re kind of a bitch, honey.” 
“No, I’m not. You’re just a real asshole.” 
“You always need the last word, don’t you?” 
You nod, “you know me.” 
He shakes his head, tracing your bottom lip, he looks deeply into your eyes, “tell me, what’s your actual problem? Be honest with me.” 
You hesitate. You’re scared of something, he can see it in your eyes. That fear has been there for some weeks now. 
Your relationship was just two months old, things were still new for the two of you. You went from disliking each other to loving each other, sure, it was weird for you but not for him. Once he touched you for the first time, he easily grew addicted to you and he found himself wondering why he never went after you instead of Nancy, in the first place. 
“You’re leaving me,” you say with fear in your eyes and anger in your voice. 
He frowns at your words, staring at you in confusion, “huh?” 
“You’re leaving me,” you repeat yourself as you cross your arms over your chest again, pouting at him like a pissed off brat, “you’re leaving me alone with all these assholes.” 
Just as you and Steve finally found your way to each other, his time at school is over while you stay for one more year, you are not ready to let him go. 
“Oh,” he mumbles, finally understanding what you are talking about, he rolls his eyes at your words and sighs, “I’m not leaving you, honey. I only graduated and the last time I checked, you’re the one who’s leaving me next year, while you go off to college, I’ll stay here and wait for you.”
You squint your eyes at him, “are you?” You counter, tilting your head up, “are you waiting for me or are you gonna find someone else to fuck?” 
He scoffs at you, glaring into your eyes, “fuck? Is that all we’re doing here? Fucking?” 
You shrug. Maybe. The anxiety of him wanting to do this just to get back at her still lingers. 
“Oh my god,” he murmurs, staring at you in disbelief, “baby, you’re my girl. I want you, no one else.” 
Your heart flutters at his words, taking the tension off your shoulders a little but you aren’t done yet. 
“What about Nancy? Do you still want her?” 
He doesn’t understand where this is all coming from, he shakes his head, eyes widening, “no!” He cups your cheeks, “I don’t! Why would I still want her? I want you, only you even though you’re a fucking brat and you get on my nerves all the damn time but fuck, you’re it for me.” 
If your past selves could see the two of you now, they would be mortified. 
You believe him, you really do. You want to kiss him and hug him, lay your head on his chest and apologize but still, you roll your eyes and look away. 
You look away from his hazel eyes, staring at your manicured nails, you shrug, a small sigh leaving your lips. 
Steve’s shoulders slump, he loves you but you are so irritating sometimes. 
“Trouble in paradise?” 
Looking over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie standing there with a smug look on his face. He walks towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips. 
You drop your arms to your sides and step away from your boyfriend, sighing in annoyance. 
Right, you forgot that your boyfriend’s boyfriend is still here. 
Steve looks intrigued, he wants to see what will happen if Eddie takes his teasing a little further. 
You cross your arms over your chest and turn away from both men but Eddie grabs your arm, holding you back, he steps in front of you, “where are you going, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 
You furrow your brows, glaring at him, “away from you.” 
He coos at you, pouting at your words, “I see, nothing changed. You’re still a fucking brat.” 
You scoff at his words, slapping his hand off of you, you clench your jaw in anger. How dare he touch you? 
His dark eyes stare into yours, he leans closer, eying your lips for a moment, “poor King Steve doesn’t know how to handle you, huh? He doesn’t know how to put you in your place?” He asks as he reaches his hand out to touch your face, caressing your cheek softly. “He can’t do it like I can, right?” 
You blink as you stare into his eyes, shivering at the feeling of his touch and at the sound of his voice. Your knees grow a little weak and you hate the way your stomach flutters at his words. Your boyfriend is standing there, right behind you, watching the scene unfold. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? 
You scoff, rolling your eyes, you turn away from him as you start blushing because of him, “whatever.” 
Steve gasps, eyes widening in disbelief. That’s all you have to say? Whatever? You sure have a lot to say to him whenever you both bicker. 
Eddie chuckles as he eyes you up and down, “you wanna be put in your place, huh?” 
Eddie wouldn’t say all this to you if there wasn’t so much tension already, the past few weeks have led up to this exact moment. 
You don’t say anything, just growing more flustered, not looking into Eddie’s or Steve’s eyes. 
Eddie’s smirk widens, he looks over your shoulder, staring at Steve who shakes his head as a small chuckle falls from his lips. 
“Do it.” 
Your lips part and your eyes widen, you turn around, staring at your boyfriend in shock. 
“Put her in her place,” he murmurs as he reaches for your waist, pulling you into him, “tame the fucking brat.” 
You gasp at his words, “S-Steve?” 
He chuckles, grasping your face in his large hands, he pulls you closer to kiss your lips, “that’s what you want, right?” 
You gulp nervously, blinking. You hesitate and take a deep breath. 
“N-No..”
He smirks, looking into your lust filled eyes, “come on, don’t lie to me.”
He pulls you tighter against him, squeezing your waist as he steals another soft kiss from you, “it’s okay, it’s just Eddie.” 
Eddie, the only man he is willing to share you with. 
You can always say no, he makes sure you know that. You can back down but do you want to? 
You tear your eyes away from your boyfriend and turn around to face the man you have been avoiding, your eyes lock with his beautiful ones. 
No, you don’t want to back down. 
Eddie already knows your answer before even asking that question but he grabs your hand and pulls you closer, “do you want it?” he whispers as he brings his hand up to your face, grabbing your chin. 
“Yes.” It comes out as a mere whisper, a nervous one. 
Eddie smirks and Steve does too but you can’t see him. The man in front of you looks like he had just won the lottery, his eyes light up and he looks happier than he has ever felt before. He grabs your waist and without wasting another moment, he pulls you flush against him and slams his lips against yours. 
For the first time in over a year, you finally feel his touch again, his kiss. 
He is desperate in the way he kisses you, not caring about your boyfriend who watches it all unfold with awe in his eyes, he doesn’t care about anything but you. He finally has you back in his arms, even if it’s just for this moment. His hands are so delicate on your skin, his lips move so roughly against yours, he savors every second in which you kiss him back. 
He doesn’t know whether to smile or to cry but he leaves the latter for when this night is over, now he enjoys it. 
A moan, a whine and a desperate whimper from you, and both men that you have wrapped around your finger are rock hard. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue meets yours and he groans in pleasure when you bury your hands in his hair, tugging at his dark curls. 
God, he missed you so much. His heart, his life felt so empty without you. He wants to kiss you softly, he wants to make love to you and show you how much he misses you but he can’t. You are not his, you will never be his and even when Steve is okay with this, he knows that it’s only just a one time thing, it’s just for sex, for rough sex. 
Your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, forcing you to break the kiss with Eddie, you whine at that action, chasing after his lips. He chuckles darkly, leaning down, he presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing you and nipping at your skin as he pulls the strap of your top down, “you want him, honey?” 
Your eyelashes flutter, your lips part and you stare into Eddie’s eyes, watching the way he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, the way he did before but there is more now, something you can’t or don’t want to read because it will make you sad. 
Steve’s lips are soft, making your heart and stomach flutter, “it’s okay, you can have him if you want,” he murmurs, “I don’t mind.” 
You have questions, so many of them but you don’t bother to speak them out now, instead you find yourself nodding, “I want you both.”
Eddie smirks, eyes lighting up. 
“Oh yeah?” Steve whispers, “you want him to fuck the brat out of you, baby?” 
“Mhmm.” 
Steve leads you and Eddie upstairs and into his room, he holds your hand while you hold Eddie’s, looking back at him to catch him staring at your ass, watching your skirt move back and forth as you walk up the stairs. He licks his lips before he raises his head to look into your eyes. 
The moment you step into your boyfriend’s room, you suddenly feel nervous but also intrigued. Steve locks the door and then he walks you over to his bed, pushing you down, he grabs your chin and caresses your cheek, smirking at you and leaning down to peck your lips before he steps away, “you’re awfully quiet, honey. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” 
Rolling your eyes at him, you scoff.
Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “Munson, come here.” 
Eddie walks over to him, glancing at him, Steve smirks, “she’s all yours.” 
You stare at your boyfriend, almost in shock. There have been moments where he got jealous whenever men just looked at you, here he is, giving you away to his friend like it means nothing to him. Which, you don’t actually mind because it’s Eddie. Yet, you glare at him. 
“What’s wrong?” He laughs, “you wanted to be tamed and I’m not exactly brat tamer material, isn’t that what you said?” 
Eddie looks amused by Steve’s words, he chuckles to himself as he looks at you. 
“And don’t act like you don’t think about him, we both know you do,” Steve murmurs as he sits down beside you, bringing his hand up to your face, he cradles your cheek, you still glare at him just like before but now you look flustered, clearly not wanting Eddie to know that you still think about him, “look at him.” 
You blink, shaking your head a little.
Steve’s hazel eyes flicker with mischief, lips curling up into a smirk, “you don’t want him to know that you still think about him?” 
“Steve.” 
He ignores you, “you don’t want him to know that you dream of him?” He asks as he kisses your cheek softly before he turns your head towards Eddie, forcing you to look at him, “I heard you whispering his name the other night, you know?” 
Eddie’s lips part in surprise. 
You grow flustered, both men notice the way you squeeze your thighs together. 
“Is that so, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks as he steps towards you. 
You look at him through your lashes, ignoring the way he makes you feel just by looking at you with his hungry eyes. 
Steve lets go of you as Eddie places his fingers under your chin, “you dream about me, huh?” 
You scoff and roll your eyes, “you wish,” you mumble in annoyance, “I haven’t thought about you in a long time.” 
So you still wanna act like you hate him? Eddie shakes his head, laughing, “a few days is what you call a long time?” 
“Not a few days, a whole year.” 
He raises his brows, “a whole year, huh?” He asks in amusement, “that’s when you started dating Byers.” 
You press your lips together, frowning at him and at your boyfriend who chuckles yet again. 
“He didn’t satisfy you enough? You still thought about me?” 
“Shut up,” you mumble as you raise your hand and slap his hand away. 
His eyes darken and he looks at you in a way that would leave your past self shivering but you are not the girl that you used to be, you are not the fool that was once in love with him, at least that’s what you are telling yourself. 
“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” 
“You’re a depraved little slut, you know that right?” 
You shrug, licking your lips as you feel yourself getting wet at his words. 
“You’re sitting here next to your boyfriend, asking another man to fuck you,” Eddie smirks. 
“It was his idea,” you shrug, ignoring Steve’s chuckle, “maybe he wants you to fuck him too, maybe he’s a depraved slut as well, just like you Eddie.” 
Eddie raises his brows, tilting his head at you as he kneels down in front of you, his gentle hands grasping your ankles, he takes your shoes off slowly. 
“Me?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe, “I wasn’t enough for you, you wanted to fuck other girls, not just one other girl, you wanted all of them, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t want me anymore. So, who are you calling a depraved slut? You are the biggest of them all.” 
Steve glances at Eddie, noticing the regret in his eyes. 
Eddie didn’t want anyone else but you, he didn’t want any other girl, he just wanted you. The things he said to you were nothing but lies, to make you leave, for your own sake. 
The tone in your voice is masked with anger but the pain is still lingering. 
“You’re an asshole,” you say as you look deeply into his eyes, “I hate you.”
Eddie clenches his jaw, maybe his heart would hurt if he didn’t see the softness in your eyes, you don’t hate him. 
“And you’re a fucking brat. A very mean brat.” 
He gets back up after taking your shoes off, he puts his hand around your throat, watching the way your eyes widen and flash with lust, you always loved this. 
“I bet you’ve been acting like this on purpose, huh? You wanted him to put you in your place?” 
You blink, breathing faster as you look up at Eddie, well aware that Steve is staring at you with a smirk on his face. 
“Answer me,” Eddie orders. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
“Yes, what?” 
“I’ve been doing it on purpose,” you admit, your cheeks growing hot at your own words, “I wanted him to put me in my place.” 
Steve gapes at you, you never ever admit anything like this to him, you never give in, you never let him hear what he wants to hear. You only ever stop acting like a brat after he makes you cum a few times. 
You bite your lip, eyes raking over Eddie’s arm, the bracelet around his wrist, the tattoos on his arm, his shoulders that got broader. His hand around your neck, he pulls you up, forcing you to stand in front of him. 
He brings you closer until his nose bumps against yours, “poor Steve doesn’t know how to tame the brat, huh?” He whispers against your lips as his eyes remain locked with yours, “it’s okay, that’s what you have me for.” 
He kisses you softly, one last time before he rips your top off, throwing it on the ground along with your bra, taking a moment to admire your naked chest, touching your boobs and giving them both a squeeze before he turns you around and shoves you down on Steve’s bed, in front of him. 
A whimper leaves your mouth when Eddie reaches for your hips and pulls your ass up, using both hands to tear the skirt into shreds, he rips it off and throws it on the ground. 
Steve’s eyes widen in surprise as do yours, you gasp, calling his name loudly. 
“What?” Eddie chuckles, “your rich boyfriend can buy you ten more of those, right?” He asks before his palm meets your ass roughly, a loud smack! echoing through the room, followed by a whiny moan. 
Steve’s eyes darken and he looks down at you to make sure that you’re okay, pushing your hair out of your face, he caresses your cheek. 
“Don’t worry, Harrington. She loves it even rougher,” Eddie murmurs as he smacks your other asscheek, “isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 
You moan, nodding desperately as you bite your lip. 
He chuckles as he watches you arching your back, your light pink thong is soaked already and Eddie can’t help but moan at the sight of it, he teases you, bringing his fingers up to your pussy, “who are you so wet for? Me or Steve?” 
Your boyfriend touches your bottom lip with his thumb, smirking when you look at him with pleading eyes. 
You hear Eddie shuffling around behind you, taking his belt off, you already know what he’s about to do and it only makes you feel more desperate. 
“Me or Steve?” He asks again, with more anger in his voice.
“Answer him, honey.” 
You don’t. 
You want him to take it further. 
Suddenly you jolt forward and a cry falls from your lips as you feel the leather smacking against your ass, tears well up in your eyes. 
“Dude!” 
Eddie chuckles at the shocked and angry look on Steve’s face, his body tenses up and he looks down at you with worry in his eyes. 
“M-More..” 
Steve’s eyes widen, shock ripples through him. He always knew that you were kinky, that you like it rough but not this rough. 
“Please.” 
“You see that, Steve?” Eddie murmurs as he raises his hand, using the belt to spank you again. The bulge in his pants is growing, his dick twitches at the sound of your moan, at the sight of your half naked body, “she loves it.” 
“You’re so fucking dirty, honey.” 
“Yes, she is,” Eddie groans. 
He spanks you, again and again. And even after he is done, you are still begging for more, despite knowing that your ass will hurt. Steve watches in awe and disbelief, no snarky words or comments leave your mouth, just desperate moans and whimpers. 
He swallows, your hand resting on his knee, squeezing it tightly as Eddie takes your ruined panties off and throws them at him, chuckling when he catches them and sniffs at them. 
“Perv,” you mumble as you look up at Steve with a smirk on your face. 
Eddie reaches for your waist, grabbing you tightly as he manhandles you on your back, he catches the surprised look on your face. Eddie takes his shirt off and throws it to the ground. 
For a moment, he lets himself admire you. It’s been too long since he had seen you like this. Your bare body, your soft skin, your pretty hair laying on your naked shoulders, your eyes looking into his with desperation, with a softened gaze he hasn’t seen in so long. 
You eye him up and down, you want him just like he wants you. You squeeze your thighs together, sighing when Steve starts playing with your hair, “you look so beautiful, honey.” 
“Yes you do,” Eddie whispers, he leans over you, taking the black scrunchie off of your wrist, he uses it to tie his hair back, “you are the prettiest girl.” 
Your heart flutters but at the same time, it hurts. 
You roll your eyes at his words, clearly not believing a word he says. 
“Shut up, Eddie.” 
Steve chuckles at your words, while Eddie scoffs, shaking his head as he kneels down in front of the bed, he grabs you, pulling you closer, harshly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and begins to nip at your inner thighs roughly, kissing and biting your skin before he finally tastes you again. 
His eyes flutter closed and he moans against you as he grabs your hips tighter than before, slipping his tongue into your wet pussy. 
You moan loudly, reaching into his hair, you pull at it.
“F-Fuck!” 
Eddie starts to eat you out, more intensely, more desperately than ever before. He needs you, he needs to feel you in every way possible. He grabs your ass harshly, squeezing your sensitive skin as he devours you. 
You arch your back in pleasure, feeling his tongue plunging deeper inside of you. You look down at him, eyes locking with his, you allow yourself to look at him, only for one moment before your eyes roll back and you shut them. 
You moan even louder than before when you feel Steve’s lips on your neck, his hands on your boobs, squeezing and grabbing them roughly as his fingers toy with your pierced nipples. 
Eddie’s nose bumps against your clit as he shakes his head against you, licking and eating you out like a man starved. He shows you how desperate he is to touch you again. 
So much pleasure runs through your body, the feeling is euphoric. 
“Feeling good, honey?” 
“Mhmm, so good,” you whimper. 
Steve smirks, he leans down to kiss your lips as he twists and tugs your nipple. You shut your thighs, caging Eddie in and he only moans in response. He licks a stripe up your pussy and begins to flick his tongue on your clit as he pushes a finger inside of you. 
“I missed your sweet pussy, baby.” 
Not wanting to hear any of his praises, you pull his hair harsher than before as you make out with Steve. 
Eddie groans, using his free hand to push your hand out of his hair, he slams it against the mattress and intertwines his fingers with yours, holding it against the bed. 
That is too intimate for you, you don’t hold hands with people you don’t love, Eddie doesn’t love you. 
“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you, kissing your clit teasingly, he glances at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, your free hand in your boyfriend's hair as you kiss him. 
His chest is filled with jealousy, you’re gentle with him, you’re soft with Steve, loving. That’s something he will never get again and it breaks his heart. 
Eddie doesn’t stop after making you cum, he only keeps going. Fucking you with his fingers, keeping the rings on because he knows how much you used to love it. He covers your thighs in hickeys, smacking your soaked cunt when you call him names. Eddie is rough with you, he devours you for both yours and his pleasure and he enjoys knowing that not even Steve can make you feel like this. 
He loves knowing that he watches you two, that he sees the way you yearn for him, the way you moan for him. 
Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your voice sounds like music to his ears, it makes his heart flutter in his chest. 
He only stops when he feels like he might cum before he even gets to be inside of you. 
He pulls away and admires the view, watching the way you are shaking, the way your cunt flutters, glistening from your juices and his spit. Your thighs are covered in hickeys, fingerprints on your hips. 
Steve is being too soft with you, he caresses your cheek and whispers praises into your ear, as though he wasn’t the one suggesting this. Growing annoyed with the sight of it, he finally takes the rest of his clothes off and flips you over on your stomach again. 
“Sit your ass down, Harrington,” Eddie orders, gesturing to the chair in the corner, “watch and learn.” 
Steve raises his brows in surprise, his cheeks grow red and it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him or you. You look smug and it only makes Steve blush harder, he rolls his eyes at you as he does what the other man told him to do. 
You lick your lips, eying the bulge in Steve’s pants, “take your cock out, Stevie,” you whine, “please.” 
Eddie chuckles behind you, you feel the bed dip under you. You swallow nervously, stomach growing tighter at the feeling of his hands on your hips, “listen to your girl, Steve.” 
Steve blinks, nodding at his words, “f-fuck.. yeah, yeah..” He stammers, unbuckling his belt hastily, he pushes his pants out just enough to take his dick out. 
You moan while Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of Steve’s dick, “holy shit, man.” 
Your boyfriend looks smug, smirking as he looks at the two of you. 
“Yeah, he is so much bigger than you, Eddie,” you tease, looking over your shoulder with a smirk on your face, “makes me feel better too.” 
He glares, holding your hips tighter, “oh yeah?” He murmurs as he takes his hard cock and slips it through your wet folds until it touches your sensitive clit. 
“Ah– shit,” you whimper. 
“Touch yourself, Steve. Look at her, watch how I ruin your pretty little girlfriend, I’m gonna make her mine again.” 
You shake your head in response, wanting to protest but only whimpers leave your mouth when he pushes inside of you, splitting you open. You’re too sensitive, too overwhelmed, too weak already. Unable to hold yourself up, you fall down against the pillows. 
“Forget it,” Steve growls as he fists his cock, keeping his eyes on you, “she’s mine forever.” 
Eddie chuckles darkly, watching how you struggle to hold yourself up, you whine and moan. 
“We’ll see.” 
He pushes in deeper, placing both hands on your asscheeks, he spreads them, watching how your wet pussy takes his cock. He moans loudly, eyes fluttering closed, he can’t even help but grin when he feels your walls clenching around him at the sound of his moans. 
“E-Eddie,” you whine into the pillow, gripping the bed sheets tightly, “I-I… please.” 
He dreamed of this moment, he thought about you day and night while you were apart, he missed this, he missed the feeling of being inside you, of feeling your warm pussy around him, of hearing your moans, he just missed you so much. 
“Please what?” 
You are drooling all over the pillow, your eyes well up with tears and you can’t stop the whines and moans from escaping. 
“Please move, please sir.” 
“Good girl,” Eddie grunts as he squeezes your ass, he pulls out completely before he slams back inside of you roughly with a loud moan. 
“Ah– f-fuck.. your cock feels so good,” you cry out. 
“Oh yeah?” He breathes as he reaches for your hair, tugging at it to raise your head up to make you look at him. Eddie starts thrusting, rougher and rougher. “Look at him, baby.” 
Steve jerks off and fuck, he looks so good. He moans loudly, biting his lip as he moves his fist faster.
“Your pussy feels so perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, “so tight and wet for me.”
“D-Don’t stop,” you whimper, “please don’t stop.” 
Your juices are slipping down your thighs, your pussy gets tighter around his cock, you feel filthy, especially when you hear the squelching sounds of your pussy as Eddie pounds you into the mattress. 
The room is filled with moans and whimpers. Tears are running down your cheeks, your body is already shaking, your next orgasm approaching. The coil in your stomach tightens as he fucks you deeper than before. 
“O-Oh fuck, stop clenching around me, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie growls. 
You squeal when you feel his hand around your throat. Suddenly, he has you pinned against his back, one hand remaining on your throat while the other roams your body, playing with your tits and sliding down your stomach. 
“Honey, you look so fucking good,” Steve grunts, moaning louder than before. He stares at you, he stares at the way Eddie’s cock slides in and out of your pussy, he watches the way tears run down your cheek, the way you hold your hand over Eddie’s, grasping it tightly as you moan louder and louder. 
Eddie kisses your shoulder and your neck, “you’re doing so good for me,” he whispers, “are you close, baby?” 
“Mhmmm,” you nod desperately, “s-so close.” 
“You wanna cum?” 
“Yes, Eddie! Please!” 
He looks over at Steve, “should I let her cum?” 
Steve nods, looking just as desperate as you, “yes, fuck.. Let her cum.” 
You feel him twitching inside of you, he is close, just like you, just like Steve. Eddie whimpers into your ear, his fingers reaching down to rub your clit, he grasps your chin, looking into your eyes before they flutter shut, “cum for me, baby,” he whispers before he slams his lips against yours. 
Unlike the other kisses before, this one is soft and sweet, enough to transform tears of pleasure into tears of sadness. 
You gush around him, cumming for the last time this night. Eddie moans against you, unwillingly breaking the kiss. You push away from him, letting yourself fall back down just in time for him to pull out, with a groan, he releases all over your ass and back. 
You shut your eyes, whimpering at the sensitive feelings rushing through you. 
“Fuck,” he whispers, a happy chuckle leaving his lips. 
You try to catch your breath, try to stop the tears from falling, you don’t want him to see how vulnerable you are, how hurt you still are by his past actions but you missed him so much and you feel ashamed for it because you know that this means nothing to him, just like it never meant anything to him back then. 
Your boyfriend is here, the one that you love with all your heart even when you haven’t told him yet, too scared of rejection, too scared of being pushed away by him the way you were by the other man. 
You don’t know how long you’re laying there like this but the feeling of Eddie’s hands on your skin, the feeling of him cleaning your back gently before he presses a soft kiss to your bruised ass suddenly makes you cry harder. 
Soft sobs leave your lips as all your feelings come catching up to you. 
Steve’s eyes flash with concern, he looks at Eddie, who suddenly looks like a deer caught in headlights as his face grows pale and his eyes show nothing but panic. 
Steve rushes towards you, using his throw blanket to cover your bare body, he pushes your hair to the side and touches your back softly, “honey,” he whispers, “what’s wrong?” He asks in concern. 
Eddie doesn’t even bother to put his shirt on, standing there in nothing but his jeans, he stares at you as his heart begins to race. 
Steve kisses your shoulder, your arm, your knuckles and then your cheek, “talk to me, baby,” he whispers, “are you hurt?” 
Eddie puts his hand on his forehead as tears well up in his eyes, did he take things too far? Did he hurt you? 
You shake your head, “no.. I’m not, I’m okay.” 
He should feel relieved but he can’t, not when you are crying after you just had sex. 
Your glassy eyes meet the ones of your boyfriend, your bottom lip quivers as you stare at him, you push yourself up a little, clutching the blanket against your chest, “d-do you love me?” 
Your voice sounds broken, small and vulnerable. 
Steve has never seen you like this. His heart squeezes in his chest and he furrows his brows, he nods, cupping your cheeks, “of course, honey. I love you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with truth, “I love you so much.” 
Your eyes flash with relief, you nod, “thank you.” 
He frowns at your words, not understanding why you are thanking him for loving you but it quickly catches up to him when he looks over your shoulder, eyes locking with Eddie’s tear filled and guilty ones. 
You loved him and he didn’t love you back. 
At least that’s what you believed. 
Eddie looks heartbroken, he looks sad and he looks like he hates himself because he pushed you away before. He loves you, he is in love with you. 
Eddie’s bottom lip quivers just like yours does, he blinks, trying to push the tears back as he reaches for his shirt, throwing the black material over his head. 
Steve feels a sudden longing for the man in front of him, not wanting him to go, not wanting him to leave you again. 
“I’m gonna go,” Eddie mumbles quietly. 
Steve can see the way your eyes flash with sadness, the way your body tenses. He doesn’t want you to hurt, he doesn’t want Eddie to hurt. 
Steve wipes your tears away and he looks into your eyes. You love Eddie, maybe that should scare him but it doesn’t because he knows that you love him too and that’s all that matters. 
“Don’t go.”
Eddie looks at him in confusion, “what?” 
“Please don’t go,” Steve says, “come here.” 
Eddie hesitates, he looks at the back of your head, your quiet sniffles break his heart all over again. 
“It’s okay, Eddie.” It’s okay to love her too. 
Eddie nods, walking closer to you, he looks at you with sad eyes, watching the way you clutch Steve’s hand tightly as you cry. Tears stream down your face just like they did back then. 
He sits down beside you, reaching out to touch your shoulder but you flinch away from him. 
He closes his eyes, sighing deeply.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry for everything, for what I said. I’m sorry for lying to you.” 
Steve rubs the back of your hand, squeezing it tightly. 
“Lying?” You whisper. 
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, “I lied to you about everything that night. I didn’t want anyone else, there was never anyone else, there was no other girl, ever. You were always the only one for me, you still are.” 
You furrow your brows, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You feel relieved but angry at the same time. 
“Those things I said about you, I didn’t mean them. God, I was so stupid. I wanted you so bad, still do,” he says as tears run down his cheeks. 
You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but the truth. 
You still long for him the way you always did, you still want him, you still love him. 
You love them both. 
“I was always so crazy about you, fuck– it hurt so much to push you away, sweetheart,” he whispers. 
“Then why did you?” You ask in a broken whisper. 
“I didn’t want to ruin your life.” 
Your heart breaks but the anger is stronger. 
“But you did, you did ruin my life. You broke my heart.” 
Regret and guilt is what he felt for so many months after he had pushed you away but especially now that he has to look into your tearfilled eyes. 
“I-I’m so sorry, I regretted every single day,” he whispers, scooting closer to you. He reaches his hand out again, this time, you don’t flinch when he touches you, he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. 
“I love you.” 
You sniffle, more tears well up in your eyes as you finally hear those words that you have craved so bad. 
“I love you so much, sweetheart.” 
“Y-You do?” You whisper. 
He nods, smiling as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, “I do.”
Steve can’t even help it, he looks down at your hand that is still holding his tightly, he smiles. 
Maybe this isn’t ideal but it works for him.
Eddie grew on him, he didn’t understand just how much he did but he doesn’t mind, especially now when he sees the happy look in your eyes, when you still hold his hand as you let Eddie wrap his arms around you. 
You bury your face in the crook of his neck and squeeze him tightly as he holds you, cupping the back of your neck and breathing in your scent. 
You are happy with him but you are even happier with Eddie back in your life, that's makes it all worth it.
As Steve watches the two of you, he knows that everything is going to be okay because at the end of the day, you all have each other. 
No more pain, no more broken hearts or any missing pieces. 
You got each other forever. 
-
tagging my faves <3 @littledemondani @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @aftermidnightwriting @bimbobaggins69
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cheeseceli · 2 months
Text
When their S/o is taller than them
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Pairing: skz!Ot8 × Gn!Reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, reaction
Request: what either skz or bts would be like with a tall s/o? (5’8”) and while I’m here I just want to say I really love your writing and I look forward to reading your fics <3
Warnings: one kill joke in lee know's, not proofread at all, I think that's it.
A/n: thank you so much for the lovely words 🤍 as a (kinda) tall girl I love to think about this lmao. BTS version here !
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Bang Chan
Hugs all the time. He just LOVES how your hugs seem to be different (and better) than anyone else's. Maybe it's because of your height or for the simple fact that you are you but he adores how warm and safe he feels in your arms. His favourite hugs from you are the ones that you either back hug him when he's distracted and put your chin on his shoulder OR when you hug him normally but add a kiss to the crown of his head. He falls more and more in love with you after every hug.
Lee Know
You know he's never gonna admit this but he loves the height difference. Your teasing gets 200% more efficient just because of it (but he'll kill anyone who points out how his ears are getting a little too red). When you guys were just friends but he already had a crush on you, he'd get truly flustered if you got closer than usual, like you were towering him - and he still does, he just likes to pretend he doesn't tbh lmao.
Changbin
We all agreed that this man would have and love and support a taller s/o to the extreme. He's like your personal cheerleader, always making sure to let you know that you are BEAUTIFUL and he loves every single detail about you - your height included. The first to tell people to shut up if someone ever comments on the height difference with a rude tone. Like, he will NOT accept someone trying to say shit about your relationship, especially when it's something he loves so much.
Hyunjin
It doesn't matter if you're one centimeter taller or a whole ruler taller, he's in love and he thinks that your height makes you look ethereal even. If you're up to it, he'll definitely buy you high heels and encourage you to wear them on any occasion that's possible. Finds it kinda fun how he has to tilt his head up in order to kiss you and always ends up giggling over this, even after years of doing it. He's just that enamoured, can you blame him?
Han
Oh he's enjoying this a bit too much. Feel free to reach all the tall shelves for him and open every can/jar. He has the babygirl reputation for a reason lmao. Jokes aside, I think he'd really enjoy a taller s/o, no matter what your height is. Has literally no patience to outsiders "teasing" and making rude comments about this dynamic, he'll quickly shut them up. (Also, get prepared to lift him up if you're strong enough like that video of him with lee know because when I said he's enjoying this I meant it😭)
Felix
HE LOVES IT. You can't tell me that he doesn't get all flustered and giddy over the height difference, I won't believe you if you do. One thing that I believe he'd love to do would take mirror pics with you. Like, the way that you can see that you're taller in the picture just makes him smile for some reason (he's whipped). His phone's wallpaper is most definitely a picture of you two like that. I also believe that he thinks it's cute the way he has to tiptoe to kiss your cheek (it is).
Seungmin
You can be the taller one, but he's the one defending you and giving you the royalty treatment all the way. One thing that I think he'd love tho is to steal your clothes. So like, if you left a sweatshirt in his place or something like this, don't expect to have it back so soon. He actually loves how he is just kinda engulfed in your (indirect?) warmth and he has something bringing him closer to you even when you're not near. And he kinda likes to flex that "this is from my partner" lmao.
I.N
Other one to get all shy over the height difference but never let you know about it (actually, you'll know. It's just so obviously shown in his face, just don't let him know that lol). But besides the casual flustering state he finds himself on at times, he really doesn't mind it. I'd say he barely notices it. When he does tho, he finds you extremely beautiful, like those ancient greek statues, and even sexy if I may.
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Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Moodboard (pics) by @haelyubi
Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
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springwitch26 · 7 months
Text
hots for teacher (part 2) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)
part 1
summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later? (part 2: what happens)
warnings: smut, intensely NSFW, praise kink, age gap, squirting, d/s vibes, inexperienced!reader, minors and men please don't touch this post
notes: ask and you shall receive, beauties! thank you for all the love on part 1, it's kinda surreal to be writing my own fics but also super liberating. any feedback is welcome. idk when i'll write again but i may or may not have another little nsfw draft with a more... punishing... interpretation of mel so we'll see! also, feel free to send me asks because i'm lonely. this one goes out to whoever said melissa schemmenti loves sluts, 'cause yeah she does.
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the car ride back to melissa's place felt like it would never end. you crossed your legs when you first got into the passenger seat--partly out of habit and partly to get some friction on your aching core--and were quickly reprimanded.
"tsk tsk, baby. guess i'll have to teach you manners, too. keep those pretty thighs apart for me, all the way home. you're gonna wait patiently until i get my hands on you," melissa scolded.
you whined incoherently, and she responded with a dangerous laugh. the trip was short but unbearable. she had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other drew lazy patterns on your inner thigh. you squirmed and writhed, even moaned quietly, but she remained nonchalant.
at one point, when her fingers drew oh-so close to where you needed them most, your thighs snapped shut of their own accord.
"c'mon, legs open," was all she said in response. she tried to act casual, but you could tell from her excited half-smile that she was enjoying this game more than she let on.
as soon as you got in the door, she was on you. you barely had the focus to take in your surroundings as she lavished you with kisses, working her way across your lips and face before burying herself in your neck. her house was cozy and tastefully decorated with gentle lighting. in the soft glow, her slightly disheveled hair and lustful eyes were a sight you'd never forget.
"is there anyone--oh!" you squealed as her fingers began to trace circles on your nipples through your dress. "is there anyone else here?"
"sensitive, huh?" she teased, smirking down at you. "and no, it's just me tonight."
before you had time to consider what that last word implied, she picked you up and effortlessly whisked you to her bedroom. you were dazzled by the sight of her private space--it was simple yet beautiful, adorned with shades of green and twinkling lights. you didn't expect this level of whimsy from her, and it somehow made her even sexier.
she laid you on the bed carefully, reverently. "god, look at you." she whispered, sending shivers down your spine as she positioned herself on top of you and returned to your lips.
by now you were painfully needy from all her teasing, and you just needed her to fuck you senseless. you tried to convey that with your impatient noises, but it seemed the older woman had other plans. she pulled away from your lips to take in your flushed, desperate face.
"soon, sweetheart, soon. i know you're so worked up, but i plan to make this last."
you hummed in acknowledgment, turning your attention to the buttons of her shirt. you thought maybe if you got her a bit more riled up, she would be less inclined to take her time.
melissa groaned, feeling your delicate fingers ghost over her chest, but shook her head in disapproval. she removed your hands from her shirt, grabbing your wrists with surprising force. "i'm not taking my clothes off yet. i'm in charge, and you need to learn patience."
you gave her your best pout, but you knew she wouldn't budge. this was about power, not patience. she wanted to be clothed, composed and in control while you lay naked and vulnerable underneath her.
she started to pull at the fabric of your dress. you lifted your hips, and in one fluid motion, she slipped it over your head and off of you. it was an expert move, and you shivered at the idea that she had done this many times before.
when she saw your body, she paused for a moment, her mouth slightly open and her pupils dilated. "no bra?" she asked under her breath, not looking for an answer. "you're so soft in my hands..." she mused as her hands massaged your breasts. her fingers moved to pinch and rub over your nipples.
you moaned, bucking your hips upward and seeking more contact. she took the hint and directed her attention to your core.
"nice panties, by the way," she said with a cocky laugh, tugging playfully at the soaked pink lace. "who knew little miss gothic had a colorful side?"
"please, mel, no more teasing, i need you so bad," was all you could manage.
"okay, baby, let's get these off ya." she hooked her fingers through your panties and you lifted your hips, allowing her to drag them off. she folded them neatly and tucked them into her front pocket. something cutesy to remind her of you, wet and pliant under her touch.
"mmm, such a messy girl. you must feel so embarrassed, all spread out and naked for me while i'm fully clothed, playin' with you."
you could only whimper and whine, helplessly turned on by her words but pinned to the bed and unable to move. she cooed at you and took pity, moving down your body to get closer to your core.
she placed her hands once again on the insides of your thighs, gently pulling them apart and revealing your glistening pussy. her breath stuttered upon seeing the wetness covering your core and thighs.
"jesus, hon, you're dripping. you're just aching for me, aren't ya? need me to make you feel good?"
"yes!" you finally exclaimed, regaining your voice. "yes, please, melissa, please touch me, i need you," you begged.
"well, since you asked so nicely..." she gave you a smirk and trailed a finger between your puffy lips, gathering the wetness there.
by this point you were writhing all over the bed, so she had to pin your legs down with her knees. neither of you minded, though. you enjoyed feeling completely at her mercy, and she enjoyed watching you squirm under her.
finally, after an eternity of torture, she gave in, slipping a finger into you with ease and rubbing gentle circles over your clit.
"so tight, fuck," she muttered to herself as she began to move inside you, transfixed by the feeling of you around her.
"feels so good, ohhh..." you mewled as her finger quickly found a rhythm, pumping forcefully and curling at your most sensitive spots.
"you're taking me so well, baby, my brave girl," she soothed, relishing in her ability to draw such pathetic sounds from you. "can you handle one more?"
you nodded frantically, almost too lost in the haze of pleasure to hear her.
she grinned and pushed another finger inside you, making you cry out. you were relatively inexperienced, so the stretch was a bit painful at first, but you were soon overcome by the bliss of feeling so full.
"that's new, huh? poor baby, can barely take two fingers," her thrusts got rougher, as if she was trying to break you. "don't whine now, you wanted this."
you were overwhelmed with pleasure and the slight pain of the intrusion. her fingers were long, nimble and skilled, and she seemed to know all the right spots and rhythms to make you see stars. her fingers stroked your clit with more pressure now, making you shake and moan uncontrollably. it was almost too much. you wanted to scream, but you could only produce pathetic little whimpers of "ah, ah, ah!"
she was clearly aware of what she was doing, and she revelled in your pleasure. she would ease up, return to a gentler pace, and then thrust hard into your g-spot just to hear your cries and gasps. she longed to see you lose control.
"that's a good girl, keep takin' my fingers just like that. you're close, aren't you baby? let's see how long you can last against me," she said, her voice deep and her smile mischievous. there was a competitive edge to her words, like making you fall apart was some kind of victory to her.
suddenly she pulled away completely, and you nearly sobbed. your hips bucked up into nothing. your helpless whimpers were music to the older woman's ears, and she snickered to herself as she moved down your body.
for a moment, there was silence. you stared at her, silently pleading for her touch. she cocked her head at you and raised an eyebrow, silently asking you: are you ready? you nodded intently. you weren't sure what she was going to do to you, but you sure as hell wanted to find out.
before you even had the chance to brace yourself, she was thrusting two fingers roughly inside you again, rubbing hard at that spongy spot. for the final blow, melissa leaned down and attached her lips to your clit, sucking harshly.
"not yet, sweetheart. stay with me," she said, grinning from ear to ear as she felt your walls flutter and clench around her.
with her free hand, she reached up and pressed softly on your lower abdomen. between that, the punishing thrusts, and the hot pressure on your clit, you couldn't take it anymore. the sensations overwhelmed you. the world went blank, and all you could feel was warmth. you swam through oceans of white-hot ecstasy, riding wave after wave of pleasure. and melissa was right there, coaxing you through heaven's gates.
melissa's thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your outer thighs, bringing you back down to earth. "come back to me," she whispered sweetly. you opened your eyes.
"there she is," she said, her eyes sparkling with relief.
she gave you a giddy smile and you noticed the wetness all over her face... and fingers... and sheets. you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.
melissa must have picked up on this, as she took hold of your hand and reassured you. "don't be embarrassed, angel. that was probably the hottest thing i've ever seen." she laid down next to you as she spoke.
you hummed and buried your face in the crook of her neck. she was warm and smelled like cinnamon.
"did you know you could do that, hon?" she asked.
"yeah," you giggled, still dazed. "but i didn't know you could do that."
"i'm fulla surprises, kid," she laughed, stroking your hair. "let me run us a bath, and then we'll see what kind of surprises you've got in you."
she carried you bridal-style to the bathtub, and you relaxed into the bliss. feeling the warmth of her arms around your frame. drowning in her.
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sukunasweetheart · 30 days
Note
im gonna tell you my favorite thing about sukuna right neow because i think youd be the best writer to write this (i jus love you) of yoru uncomfortbale, its ok. But hear this knowledge i know that you may not know or if you do thats GREAT.
sukuna can lactate. CANNONICALLY.
PLEASEEEEE lmfoaksdn i love this... ive read a few fics with trueform sukuna lactating and maybe its my turn to do a little something for it too... this is ur warning lmao it turns very smutty at the end bye
its good for a little sub!sukuna too, he's never let anyone come near his chest except you, so he'd probably be new to all the sensations youd give him ^^ you're overexcited and sukuna is probably grimacing at you, thinking youre a weirdo and a pervert for wanting to suck on his teet so bad, but after a lot of convincing, he lets you try to relieve the ache of his TIDDIES with a big eye roll
and boy, does it feel weird. you suck on his nipple like a newborn, and as your tongue rolls around his sensitive bud, he can't stop the shudders that go down his spine. his growing erection becomes painfully obvious and he's almost horrified about it, why does this feel so good?
you groan at the taste of his sweet milk and he finds it oddly fulfilling-- knowing that you're enjoying the taste of his...milk. you roll your hips around against his boner and sukuna's large hands land on your waist to guide your movements.
you suck on his one nipple until it's puffy and swollen and run dry, before moving on to the other one.
"fuck... slow down. it's not goin' anywhere," sukuna huffs at you, looking down at you with flushed cheeks and red ears. you don't respond, only continuing to squeeze out every drop from him using your mouth. you're also getting wetter and wetter between your legs with every passing second, drunk from his sweet taste, wondering how such a bitter man could produce something like this out of his chest.
sukuna breathes heavier above you, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head as you lap up every drop that comes out. he jerks his hips up every now and then, unable to help himself. he'll need to fuck you dumb after this as a punishment-- or a reward, perhaps?
he gets closer to soiling his hakama pants with his load, but he's doing everything to hold back because it's humiliating enough that the king of curses lactates, and is currently letting someone drink from his pecs. he can't be cumming into his clothes like a virgin on top of that. he grits his teeth and restrains himself.
it was a futile effort however, because you do something unthinkable and brave on your part, suddenly using your teeth into the mix, biting lightly on his sensitive nipple, immediately sending him over the edge.
sukuna jolts and his clothed cock presses up against you as he blows his load into his pants, the shock of the painful pleasure having shot down his spine. you hear him groan deeply and hiss at you, retaliating by grabbing a handful of your hair. but you're unrelenting, and your mouth is still latched onto him. your cheeky grin pisses him off.
once his orgasm subsides, sukuna pries your lips away from his puffy nipples. they're swollen and sensitive. he has tears barely protruding from the corners of his eyes, and there is a brilliant blush on his face.
"fucking hell. you're insatiable. one perverted fucking woman," he tells you with a growl.
"but you liked it. loved it, even. so much that you came in your pants-"
you yelp as you're manhandled onto the bed. sukuna practically tears the clothes off from your body, stripping you bare, down to your dripping wet pussy. he roughly slots his fingers into your soaking cunt, a mean glare in his eyes, having flared up from your provoking.
"you're sopping wet. not much better than me, are you?" sukuna sneers, fingering your most delicate spot. you moan, unable to respond, too preoccupied with the pleasure.
he removes his digits and then shoves them into your own mouth, to shut you up. then, he frees his still aching cock from his pants and shoves it into you all in one go.
"all nice and loose f' me," he groans, feeling your welcoming walls around his dick.
"i wonder if i bred you nice and full- would i get to have a taste of your milk too?"
you suck on his fingers and whimper, full of lust and desire.
"oh? ...you don't seem to hate the idea. i'll fuck a baby into you, then," he says darkly.
...and a blissful night ensues, where you get to enjoy getting pumped full of the milk from his cock, not just his tits.
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Text
Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Talk About
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Henderson!Reader
Summary: Y/N Henderson’s relationship with Eddie puts her at odds with Jason Carver and co.
Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, bullying/harassment, slut shaming, allusions to sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), Jason being a prick, swearing, Reader is Dustin’s sister but no physical descriptions are used and you can read it as an adopted sibling if you want, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed something
A/N: Alright, this is the first Fic I’ve ever posted on here. I’m honestly a little nervous, but hopefully you enjoy. I’ll probably end up posting this on my Ao3 too so I’ll link that at some point.
My Master List | Ao3
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“I’m gonna miss you”, Eddie whines as he leans against the locker next to yours.
“It’s one class”, you reply as you swap out your English textbook for history, “that’s, what, an hour?”
“Actually I have Davis’s class next so it feels more like three hours”, Eddie says.
You snort. Mr. Davis has probably been around since the dinosaur era, and if there were to be a competition for most boring teacher at Hawkins High, he would win it hands down.
“It’s not funny”, Eddie teasingly pouts, “I might actually die of boredom.”
“As much as I would hate for that to happen, I’ve got my own class to get to, so unfortunately you’re on your own for now,” you reply.
“Alright well, please tell the rest of Hellfire I’m going to miss them”, he tells you, “and feel free to wear that black skirt of yours to the funeral. The tight one. It’s what I would’ve wanted.”
You roll your eyes affectionately before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“You’re so dramatic”, you say, “I’ll see you later.”
“If I survive that long”, he calls. You shake your head before turning the corner and heading into your history classroom.
“Okay, class”, your teacher, Mr. Price announces once the bell rings, “I’ve written some questions on the board. You’ll find the answers in Chapter 5 of your textbook. Write them down and turn them in by the end of class. You may work with a partner if you’d like.”
You pull your textbook out of your bag and flip to a clean sheet in your notebook. You don’t have any friends in this class, so you figure you may as well just do it yourself and get it over with. That is, until a voice startles you as you’re about to start reading the first page of the chapter.
“Hey, Y/N. Do you wanna work together?”
You blink up at the source of the voice and are pretty sure you must be hallucinating. That’s the only explanation you can think of as to why Jason Carver would be asking you to be his partner.
The two of you have been in the same grade since Kindergarten and you can't think of a single time in all those years that he’s directly acknowledged your existence. The closest thing you have to a connection with him is that your little brother is friends with one of his new Basketball recruits, but you kind of doubt he even knows or cares about that. There’s a few members of his little posse he could be asking to work with him, so you have no clue why he’d be asking you of all people. But, you don’t have anyone else, so you shrug.
“Sure, I guess”, you say.
“Great”, he smiles, moving to sit down next to you.
“I’ll get started on number 1”, you suggest, “maybe you can do number 2 and we’ll compare?”
“Sure”, he says sweetly. You’re honestly getting a little freaked out by how friendly he’s being.
You both do your agreed upon work, and then switch off to show each other your answers.
“So?” you ask when he’s finished reading yours, “does that seem right?”
“Yeah”, he replies, “you’re good at this. You ever thought about being a tutor?”
“Oh, no, not really”, you say.
“See, I just ask because our youth group has this program where some of us older members help the younger kids out after school and stuff.”
“Oh, that’s cool”, you tell him, not really engaged the conversation. It all sounds well and good, but you really aren’t interested in being a tutor at the moment.
“You know, the church has a lot of great programs”, Jason continues, and you’re not sure what any of this has to do with the Byzantine empire, which is what you’re supposed to be discussing.
“Okay”, you say.
“They do a lot of outreach, a lot of stuff to help people who have lost their way.”
“Lost their way?” you inquire, a small part of you beginning to understand what’s actually going on.
“Yeah. You know. Made bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people.”
“Um, I think we should just get back to the assignment”, you suggest, uncomfortable with the discussion and not wanting it to go any further.
“Look”, Jason sighs, “what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a nice girl. I’d hate to see you go down a bad path.”
Okay. You get it now, and it’s starting to piss you off.
“Thank you, but I’m doing just fine”, you insist.
“You’ve been hanging around with Eddie Munson”, Jason says, as if it’s some scandalous secret and not just you spending time with your boyfriend, “you really shouldn’t do that, you know…”
You stare at him, a little dumbfounded he would just up and say such a thing to you.
“You can’t be serious…”, you say.
Jason leans in to you, a deadly serious expression on his face.
“I’ve heard about guys like him before”, he tells you, “I know the stuff they’re into.”
Yeah, so do you. It’s tabletop role playing games, which is about the least nefarious activity you could possibly think of. Jason clearly doesn’t see it that way, though, because he’s still going on.
“And I know they like to lure innocent people like you into their little organizations. I’m telling you, Munson is bad news. You should stay away before you get hurt.”
You seriously have to hold yourself back from laughing right in Jason’s face. You’re not sure what reality he’s living in, but it clearly isn’t the same one you are. Last weekend, you and Eddie had watched Terms of Endearment and he’d started to cry (well started tearing up at least, even sniffled a little, though he vehemently denied it). There’s not a single situation in which you can ever imagine him causing you intentional harm.
“Okay, you know what”, you say, “I think I’m gonna finish the rest of the assignment alone, thanks.”
Jason grabs your arm gently but firmly. “I’m serious, Y/N. He’s dangerous. Stay away from him before you end up hurt or killed.”
You’re really not sure what the most offensive part of all this is. It’s either that Jason thinks that somehow Eddie Munson, your lovable dork of a boyfriend,is secretly an evil Satanist cult leader, or that you’re apparently too stupid or naive to make that kind of judgment for yourself. Maybe it’s that he volunteered to work with you on an assignment and acted all friendly with you just so he could get this opportunity to preach to you about your supposedly “dangerous” lifestyle. He’s never given you the time of day before, after all.
“I don’t know what it is you think you see in him, but I promise you it’s not going to end well.”
You snort. Is he, what, jealous or something? He’s got a girlfriend, after all, and plenty of other girls who’d be willing to take her place if she were to leave him. It’s kind of sad that he’s apparently so insecure that the mere thought of Eddie Munson getting female attention is enough to have him losing his shit like this.
“Whatever”, you spit, “just leave me alone.”
He glares at you, but ultimately turns his attention to his textbook and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the class.
-
You happily shove the encounter out of your mind once the bell rings. You’re perfectly content with the social circle you keep, and you’re not going to let some jock with an inflated sense of self importance change that.
Jason apparently doesn’t do the same because he spends lunch glaring at you from his table. Granted, him shooting disgusted looks in the general direction of the Hellfire Club is a regular occurance, but today he’s making it obvious his ire is directed specifically at you.
“What the fuck is his problem?” Eddie asks.
“I dunno”, you shrug, “he’s just an asshole.”
Eddie peers at him for a moment and you can see a familiar glint of mischief twinkle in his eye. Before you can comment, he’s dramatically pushing himself to his feet and sauntering over to Jason and company.
“What do you want?” Jason demands.
“Couldn’t help but notice you staring”, Eddie says, “just wanted to let you know that I’m flattered, but unfortunately you aren’t really my type. Sorry.”
“Fuck off”, Jason barks, “disgusting freak.”
“Don’t take it too hard”, Eddie says, giving him a joking pat on the shoulder before making his way back over to you. You stifle a laugh at the indignant look plastered on Jason’s face. Eddie shoots you a proud grin and you shake your head affectionately. Jason clearly doesn’t know shit about “guys like Eddie.”
-
The next few days pass by uneventfully. Jason doesn’t try talking to you again, which you’re thankful for. Wednesday starts out normally, you go to history, and Jason roundly ignores your presence. Then you have to go to your next class, which is gym.
Definitely not a favorite of yours, and you don’t even have Eddie in your class to ease the pain. You make it through your warm ups, and then the coach has you split up to practice your volleyball serves. Everything’s going well until Andy, one of Jason’s buddies, approaches you out of nowhere.
“Hey, Henderson”, he says, a smirk on his face, “you think you could score me some weed?”
You look at him, confused. You don’t get involved in Eddie’s side hustle, so you’re not sure why he’d ask you.
“What?”
“Oh, I just figured you probably get a good discount”, he goes on, “I mean, that’s why you let Munson fuck you, right?”
You freeze in shock, your cheeks starting to grow hot. You can’t say you’re used to people making comments about your sex life, especially not to your face.
“I mean, I gotta say”, Andy continues, a cruel glint in his eye, “I didn’t take you for a slut. But come on. Spreading your legs for that freak? Jesus, that’s sad. You know, I’d be happy to show you a good time, since you’re so desperate for it.”
You can only stand there, mouth agape. Sure, you’ve gotten a gross comment or two from a male classmate before, but nothing like this. You certainly have never been called a slut before. You try to formulate a response, but you can’t come up with one. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the coach’s whistle rings out, signaling for you all to hit the changing rooms. You dash out of the gym, more than pleased to be away from Andy.
You hop in the shower in the locker room, take a few moments to shake off the discomfort of the interaction. You’re not entirely successful in that endeavor, because it keeps playing in your mind even after you’re dressed and making your way back into the hallways.
You have no idea where the hell Andy came up with all of that. At this point, it’s common knowledge that you and Eddie are dating, but you don’t know where this idea that you’re sleeping with him for drugs came from. It couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Hey, Beautiful”, you’re distracted from your thoughts by Eddie, who comes happily bounding over to you. His face falls when he sees the look on your face though.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine”, you say. Something about the idea of telling Eddie about what happened leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s embarrassing, and you definitely don’t want him to feel like it’s somehow his fault that Jason and Andy are giving you a hard time.
Besides, it doesn’t matter. Once again, nothing they say about you or Eddie is true. You can’t let some stupid jocks get to you.
-
Honestly, you probably could’ve been okay, if that was the end of it. Unfortunately, things only get worse the next day.
As you make your way to your seat in history, you catch sight of Amber and Samantha, two cheerleaders who like to hang around Jason and the others, whispering as you walk by.
You ignore them, figuring you’re being paranoid and they probably aren’t even talking about you, but when you sit down, Amber turns and looks you right in the eye.
She raises her voice then, clearly intending for you to hear what she’s saying.
“I hope she’s gotten tested”, she tells Samantha, “I can’t imagine what nasty shit the Freak is passing on to her.”
You take a deep breath, turning away from her.
It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, it’s not true.
“I hope the drugs are worth it,” Samantha says.
You clench your jaw as you slip into your seat. It shouldn’t bother you so much. It's not true, and even if it were, who cares what Amber and Samantha have to say about it?
You’re dating Eddie because you like him. You like the way he’s always joking around and making you laugh, you like that he makes a point of looking out for Dustin and his friends, you like the way he looks at you with those big puppy dog eyes and flashes that mischievous grin. Cheap access to his drugs has never even crossed your mind.
You shouldn’t concern yourself with what they say, you know that, but hearing your name in connection with “slut” grinds at you.
-
During gym class, you do your best to avoid Andy, because everytime he notices you looking at him, he’s making some suggestive gesture at you. You don’t bother telling anyone about it, since Andy’s on the basketball team and the coach would probably take his side.
In the hallway, you accidentally bump into Patrick from the basketball team. You mutter an apology, which he accepts, but his girlfriend gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen.
“Don’t talk to her”, you hear her tell him as you walk away, “she’s a slut.”
-
All of the gossip has put you in a foul mood by the time you get to your second to last period of the day, which happens to be study hall.
Like always, it’s in the cafeteria, with you and a bunch of other students of varying grade levels all sitting around doing your homework. Technically, you’re not supposed to talk, but the teacher in charge is way too underpaid to worry about enforcing that, so you can usually get away with conversation as long as things don’t get too rowdy.
You’re not taking advantage of that today, rather trying your best to distract yourself by actually doing your homework. You’re halfway through summarizing Act 3 of Hamlet when you hear someone say your name.
“Hey, Y/N…”
You’re confused when you look up to find Lucas standing there. Technically, you’ve known him for years, but it’s not like you’ve ever associated with him outside the time he spends with Dustin.
“What?” you ask, a little meaner than you mean to.
“I just thought you should know that…well, I think Jason has been going around saying things about you.”
Of course. You should’ve known Jason was behind this. Jason fucking Carver. Captain of the Basketball Team. Active member of the local church. Son of one of the most respected families in Hawkins. He’s clearly used to people listening to whatever he has to say. Apparently, his ego couldn’t handle you dismissing his comments about your relationship with Eddie.
Jesus, you’d always known he was a bit of an asshole, but this is a level of pettiness you’d never expected, even from him.
“Don’t tell him I told you”, Lucas adds, “but I just thought you should know.”
“Thank you”, you say. You’re definitely glad to have that piece of information.
-
The next day, you storm into Mr. Price’s classroom with righteous fury coursing through your veins. You bypass your desk and instead march straight up to Jason.
He pauses his conversation with Andy and Samantha when he sees you approach.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You demand.
“Excuse me?” Jason asks.
“I know you’ve been starting rumors about me”, you tell him, “what exactly is your problem, Jason?”
“Me? I don’t have a problem”, Jason insists, “I just think it’s fair the men of Hawkins High get a warning about your ‘extracurricular’ activities.”
You can feel heat flood your cheeks.
“You’re a dick, Jason!” you hiss.
“You know, Y/N”, Jason retorts, “I actually feel bad for you. I mean, no decent man is ever going to want you when they find out you’ve been giving it up to some trailer trash freak.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you snap.
“Believe me, I know exactly what happens to girls who hang around with filthy, Satan-worshiping scumbags”, he says, “and you know what? I’m not going to feel sorry for you when they’re finding your body dumped in the woods.”
“Get over yourself!”
“Whatever”, Jason shakes his head, “I’m not gonna take the attitude from some little slut.”
You’re not fully in control of yourself during what happens next. One second you’re standing there listening to Jason degrade you, the next your fist is connecting with his face.
He stands there, stunned for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something. He doesn’t get the chance though, because Mr. Price gets to it first.
“Ms. Henderson”, he gasps, “Mr. Carver, what on earth is going on here?”
“She punched me in the face”, Jason spits accusingly.
“I-I…I’m sorry I…”
“Enough”, Mr. Price sighs, “I want both of you going to the principal’s office right now!”
-
You’re in deep shit. That much is immediately clear. You punched Jason Carver in the face. It’s not like you even claim it was self defense, since he didn’t do anything physical to you.
“So”, Principal Higgins sighs, “tell me what happened again?”
“She punched me in the face”, Jason hisses.
“Is that true?”
“Yes”, you sigh, “but he called me a slut.”
Principal Higgins rubs his temple, processing the information. Meanwhile, Jason’s gaze is fixed firmly on you, his eyes full of hatred.
“Mr. Carver”, Higgins says finally, “that is not appropriate language to use in regards to another student. You may go back to class, but I better not hear about something like this again.”
Jason stands and marches out of the office, as if he has a right to be pissed about Higgins’ scolding. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he gets a slap on the wrist. Nobody wants to punish the star basketball player. You’re certain that if it were anyone else, Eddie or Dustin or one of the other Hellfire Club members, they definitely wouldn’t be getting off so easily.
“Now, as for you Ms. Henderson”, Higgins says, “we do not allow for any sort of violence in this school. However, in all your years at this school, you have never had to receive any form of discipline. So I’m willing to be flexible here. Normally, something like this could be grounds for suspension, but since this is your first time, I say it’s two weeks detention after school starting next Monday. Does that sound fair to you?”
Not really, no, but you can’t say that.
“Yes”, you reply instead.
“Alright. Good. Now go back to class. And Ms. Henderson, I sincerely hope I won’t have to see you in my office again.”
-
You’re in a bad mood when Mr. Price’s class finally ends. You’ve gone your entire high school career without getting a detention and now you’ve ruined that over some pompous dick bag. Speaking of, Jason has been staring daggers at you since you returned to class, and is continuing to do so even now as you’re leaving.
There’s a tense, awkward moment where you both stand there in the hallway, glaring at each other, but it’s broken when the force of a body colliding with your back almost takes you off your feet. Jason is forgotten when a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.
“Eddie”, you huff playfully.
“How’d you know it was me?” he asks as you turn around to face him.
“Cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Munson”, you reply.
“Don’t blame me”, he replies, “you know I’m powerless to resist your charms.”
Before you can reply he’s pulling you close and beginning to press kisses to your cheek. You know the two of you are making a scene, and on any other day you might be a little self conscious about it, but today you’re just glad to have him around.
His kisses stop suddenly and you realize he’s stopped because he’s finally noticed Jason’s hateful glaring. Unfazed as always, he just flashes a cocky smile and gives Jason a mocking impression of a friendly wave. Jason makes a face like he’s wishing for both you and Eddie’s violent deaths.
“Geez”, Eddie comments, “he looks pissed.”
“Um, yeah, probably because I punched him in the face”, you mutter.
Eddie’s eyes widen in obvious surprise.
“He had it coming”, you add, “he was being a Dick.”
You know you don’t have to defend yourself to Eddie. He knows better than anyone how nasty Jason can be.
“My, my, Fair Lady Henderson”, he smiles, “I dare say that was very Metal of you.”
“Yeah, well, Higgins didn’t think so”, you reply, “I got two weeks detention for it.”
“Ol’ Higgins never did have a sense of humor”, Eddie says, “but from where I’m standing, you’re basically a hero.”
“Really?”
“Hell yeah”, Eddie tells you, “Jason and his goons have been making our lives miserable for years.”
You can’t help but smile at that. You’re definitely not happy with the day’s events, but knowing Eddie’s on your side makes it a little more bearable.
-
On Monday you begrudgingly make your way to Mrs. Cline’s room for your first day of detention.
“Ms. Henderson?” she asks when you walk in.
“Yeah”, you say, a little embarrassed.
“Wonderful”, she says, checking your name off of a list in front of her, “please take a seat.”
There’s only two other people in there with you, so you just pick a seat as far from them as possible and sit down.
“Alright”, Mrs. Cline says, “looks like everyone’s here except…”
“I’m here.”
You look up in surprise to see Eddie come walking into the room.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Munson”, Mrs. Cline says dryly, “what a surprise. Please take a seat.”
You know that Eddie isn’t a stranger to detention, but it’s weird that he didn’t mention anything to you when you’d told him about it. He walks over to the desk next to yours, looking way too pleased for someone who’s about to serve a stint in detention.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
“Oh, you know, got caught vandalizing the boy’s locker room during free period”, he tells you.
“What? When?”
“Friday”, he says with a satisfied smirk.
You frown. This must’ve happened after the whole Jason thing on Friday which means…
Which means Eddie did it knowing that you were also going to be in detention.
“Eddie”, you say, “did you get detention just because I did?”
“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” he grins.
You can’t help but smile along with him.
“Mr. Munson, Ms. Henderson”, Mrs. Cline calls from her desk, “no talking during detention.”
Eddie mimes zipping his lips and waits until Mrs. Cline looks away before giving you a playful wink. You stifle a giggle.
You don’t know Jason all that well, but you’re pretty sure he would never dream of landing himself in detention just to keep his girlfriend company. You’ve never seen him make a scene in the middle of the hallways to get her to smile. That’s the thing about this that really gets under your skin. Jason and the others don’t know shit. They think that just because Eddie doesn’t fall into their narrow definition of “acceptable”, he must be scary and dangerous. They think that just because you’re not afraid of him, you must be dirty and corrupted. They’re too close-minded to look closer and see that Eddie is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine, that you spend time with him because he makes you happy. They’d rather write him off as a freak and you off as a slut than accept that maybe their perception is wrong.
You’re far from being a violent person, but you can’t say you regret what you did. Jason deserved to be put in his place, and it’s not like you did any serious damage to him anyway. You’re glad you stood up for yourself, for Eddie. You’ve probably tacked “psycho bitch” onto your already unflattering “whore” reputation, but at this point, you’re not sure you care. If being a freak means you get to spend your days with the love of your life, you will gladly accept that label.
-
After the designated two hours are up, Mrs. Cline dismisses you all.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad”, you say as you and Eddie start making your way through the hall.
“Nah”, he replies, “I mean it’s boring but it’s not bad.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not planning on having to do this again”, you continue, “but it’s bearable.”
Eddie nods.
“I’m sorry, by the way”, he adds.
“For what?”
“Jason and the others. They’ve been giving you a hard time, right?”
“Yeah”, you shrug, “it is what it is. Not your fault.”
“I mean it kind of is”, Eddie replies, “they’re only doing it because you’re dating me.”
“Eddie”, you say, “Jason’s an asshole, okay? That’s not on you. If he can’t handle our relationship, then fuck him.”
That gets a grin out of Eddie.
“You know, you’re getting to be quite a rabble rouser, Henderson”, he jokes.
“I’m learning from the best”, you tease back.
Eddie’s smile widens. He follows you out to your car and then presses a soft kiss to your lips.
“See you tomorrow, Sweetheart”, he says and then heads off to his van. You watch him go, butterflies still lingering in your tummy from the contact.
If you’d actually had any doubts about Eddie, they would’ve disappeared in that moment. That feeling, it’s a one of a kind thing. No one’s ever managed to give it to you before, and you’re not sure anyone else ever will. You love Eddie. He loves you. He’s sweet, and silly and he treats you right. If your peers want to believe a bunch of bullshit about you two, then let them. You know what you have, and you’re not going to let them ruin it for you.
Grinning to yourself, you hop in your car, put the Black Sabbath tape you borrowed from Eddie into the player and head home.
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yunhofications · 1 year
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rock with you - j.yh
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pairings: dom!yunho x switch!fem reader
chapters: 1/2
synopsis: yunho’s a rockstar and doesn’t care about anyone but himself, at all. he loves the attention he recieves, but the only attention that really matters to him is from the girl who can’t seem to stand him at all. well, thats what she tells herself anyway.
warnings/tags: yunho’s kind of a dick, but not really, size kink, dumbification, choking, man handling, biting/marking, praise. hes quite a mean n rough dom, fingering, cheating implied (not by yunho), pet names, drinking. no actual sex in this part
word count: 3.7k
authors note: hi! this is my first ever suggestive fic, i originally was only going to do one part but im going to do two now, if this chapter does well :] i hope you all like it, im new at writing these things!
it was a Sunday night, 9:54 pm to be exact. The bar wasn’t crazy busy considering most people had work the next day and normal individuals wouldn’t spend their free night before work drinking their sorrows away in a lousy run down bar. Not that it phased you in the slightest, you brushed off the judgmental stares and glares from the bartender since you were probably on your 20th shot and you had the tiniest little body. Who the fuck is fitting in that much alcohol without getting drunk? Well, you were pretty tipsy and your eyes were slowly giving out, as well as your entire body, about to hit your head against the wooden bar counter before a hand slips in and stops you from getting a concussion.
You don’t give it much thought, perhaps it was just the bartender, or some random stranger who was afraid you’d die or something from slamming your head down. But it wasn’t. Oh how you wished you were dreaming, and that your mind was playing a little trick on you from all the emotions and all the god damn alcohol that was running through your veins. Then the voice spoke. It felt like nails on a chalkboard, you hated it. “Y/N.” You could hear how smug the voice was, you could hear the smirk on their lips. Fuck.
“Go to hell Yunho.” Your words being just a big fat mumble, moving his hand away and allowing your head to rest against the hard wood counter. Yunho, Jeong Yunho. Many people adored the man, which you never understood why. He was a dick with a terrible attitude and didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself, the nerve of him even coming near you made you wanna snap. Though, you had no energy to do that. You could still feel him next to you, his perfume was strong, and you’d only ever recognised that scent on him, no one else.
“Are you ever gonna stop being a little bitch Y/N? I just saved you from getting a concussion. You should be thanking me.” A scoff left his mouth. It was true though, Yunho didn’t care about anyone else but himself, he adored the attention from others, women. It was all he got, he was a rockstar afterall, who wouldn’t love the attention? Afterall, thousands of women screaming his name as his fingers played away at his guitar, what a life to live. However, as much as he adored all those women, one woman in particular was all he truly desired, to hear her scream his name, only for him to hear, for her to be a mess on his cock, a mixture of his and her cum dripping from her bare cunt. That woman was Y/N, and she couldn’t stand the sight of him.
“I didn’t ask you to, now go away. I don’t need you ro add to my problems right now.” You managed to lift your head and turn to face the dark haired man sitting beside you. It bothered you that he was attractive and that perhaps in another life you’d given him a chance, and maybe if he didn’t have a stick up his own ass and acted like the world revolved around him.
“Problems? Like what? Your only problem is you being an annoying little dog.” Okay, to an extent Yunho could see why you didn’t like him at all, considering all he did was rip into you and just make matters worse rather than at least try and be there for you. All your hatred and dislike for Yunho began just as he started to gain attention, because from the slightest attention his ego grew massive and it bothered you. The two of you had a little history, meeting one another through acquaintances and he was actually really cute, and you were attracted to him in more than one way. That was no longer the case. Now five years have passed and his attitude and ego was unbearable.
“Do you ever fucking shut up? Fuck off, Yunho. Seriously.”
“No.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t want to.”
All you could do was give him the biggest eye roll, you barely had any energy left to argue with this idiot in front of you, whining at how frustrated you were with him. “My boyfriend— ex, boyfriend. Cheated on me, so I beg you to leave me alone and let me drink in peace.” You had no intention on telling him that, but you prayed that he’d leave you alone and go home or fuck a girl or do whatever it is that he did. Instead he remained right there, pulling something out of his pocket. A ticket, a ticket to his upcoming show. He was absolutely unbelievable.
“You’re kidding me, right? Do you just carry those with you everywhere? I'm not going, I don’t like your music.” Which was a lie. You listened to his songs whilst getting ready, in the car, when laying in bed.
“Just come will you? And fuck your ex, hes a fucking idiot to let someone like you go, the prettiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Yunho meant his words, and he definitely wanted you to attend his show, simply because you’ve never been to one before, and he desperately wanted to show himself off to you in another light. He had to hide the little smile which appeared on his face when you mentioned your ex cheated, he was out of the picture now which meant Yunho had a chance to win you over, and he was determined to.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t flutter a little when Yunho complimented you. It didn’t mean anything to you, well, you thought it didn’t. You chewed your bottom lip as you snatched the ticket and shoved it in your purse, perhaps it would be good to go, what else were you doing? Moping around that you got cheated on? Ridiculous.
“Whatever.. I’m going now.” Oh but getting up by yourself was a terrible idea, you slid off the barstool and stumbled as soon as you hit the ground, squinting as if it were to make a difference to your vision, but it didn’t. Suddenly you feel some long arms wrap around you tightly to hold you in place, you knew exactly who it belonged to as two large hands gripped the side of your arms. You were in no position to argue or say no, since you were pretty sure you’d black out soon enough, which you did.
The next thing you knew, it was the next morning, your head was ringing and you were in bed, at home.
Huh.
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A week had passed since your drunken incident, you barely remembered it and still couldn’t put your finger on how you ended up at home in bed, surrounded by your pastel walls. Well, no point dwelling on it now. You were currently sitting upon your white little wooden vanity, gripping onto a curling iron and letting your hair fall as you let go. It was the day of Yunho’s show and you decided to go, why? Who knows. You didn’t even remember how you got around to getting the ticket, and why it happened to be in your purse. it was such a blur to you. A white lace dress with little pink bows at the shoulders was upon your body, the same dress you wore the night you two met for the first time. It wasn’t intentional, not by any means and that memory had slipped your mind. You thought it looked rejected sitting in the back of your closet, so why not wear it? You’d never wear anything to purposefully grab his attention anyway.
“Shit.” It was 5:30, which meant you were running a little later than originally planned— why does it matter though? He probably won’t even notice that you're there.
Dashing around your apartment you grabbed your ink coloured clutch bag which contained the ticket and a few other essentials of yours before grabbing your keys and checking yourself in the mirror by your door before going out to your car. Your phone automatically connected to the bluetooth system in your car and at that moment your phone began to ring, it was Wooyoung. The two of you had been friends since you were in diapers, literally. It was because of Wooyoung, that you met Yunho, unfortunately. What an idiot.Foot on the gas pedal and you were off, pressing the answer button upon the steering wheel.
“Hey Woo, I'm driving right now. What's up?”
“Where are you going? I wanna go out for food, meet me?”
“Ah.. about that, I’m actually going to Yunho’s show..” You’d wondered if he even heard you, because it went silent and you spoke quietly when saying that sentence. But he did hear you, loud and clear.
“YUNHO? I thought you hated him! Why are you going?! Tell me!” The male's voice was extremely loud, almost bursting your eardrums. You hated cutting him off— not true. But right now you didn’t have time to explain, you were practically speeding your way to the venue.
“I’ll tell you later, okay? I promise you. I gotta go.” Just like that, the line disconnected with the click of a button.
Arriving at the venue, you were faced with the largest queue you'd seen by far, sprawling out into the parking lot. The sight was a complete eyesore, however you were certain Yunho absolutely loved the sight.
Lucky for you, Yunho was kind enough to give you priority access tickets, so you could skip the queue. A good thing of course, being around all those fan girl’s would possibly lead you to have an aneurysm. And thankfully, they were seated tickets as you hated standing up and being surrounded by sweaty people, especially sweaty teenage girls and possibly grown women who’d just be screaming for Yunho. Your seat happened to be a balcony seat, and you were the only one there.
Yunho knew what he was doing, he would be able to see you perfectly from there, that's if you actually decided to come. He was nervous, so nervous in fact to go on stage and then be faced with the disappointment of you not being there. The man was infatuated by you and sometimes he really hated it, why you? Why did it have to be you? Either way, time was ticking and it was time to head to the stage. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Ever since he took you home last week, you were the only thing in his mind, day and night you flooded his brain, thoughts of you being fucked, the thoughts of you simply belonging to him. It was driving him insane.
The lights dimmed within the venue, and colors of red and white flashed on the stage, indicating that he was about to come out. For some reason that caused you to feel sick, a pit in your stomach. Why am I even here? I don’t even like him. Yet here you were, in a seat assigned especially for you. Not that you knew that, you had no idea how this ticket got into your possession in the first place.
A loud bang made the floor shake beneath you, startling you for sure. White and red confetti filled the room as Yunho was now on stage, seems as though he was standing on a lifting stage. You began to chew on your bottom lip anxiously, the crowd went wild as began with his first song. Whatever, he’s still an asshole.
Yunho’s ego was always boosted immensely as soon as he appeared on stage, hundreds of people screaming his name, posters and banners just for him. Absolutely perfect. But what was even more incredible, was the girl who appeared to hate him so much, was standing in the balcony he left just for you. The smirk which was painted on his lips was very evident as he pretty much groped the mic whilst his gaze met yours, he didn’t maintain it for long, but long enough to irritate her for sure. Honestly he didn’t expect you to come, especially because you were pretty drunk the night he gave you that ticket. Nevertheless, he was absolutely smitten. He’d watch how you’d rip your eyes from him every time your eyes met, he was absolutely loving this.
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The cold breeze brushed against your face as you exited the venue, you were surprised with how you were able to stay the entire time, though there were many instances you wanted to storm out everytime you noticed the smug look on his face. You seriously couldn’t stand the man, but why was your heart fluttering if you hated him? Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought you did.
You watched as fans walked out of the venue, some with tears running down their faces and sobbing about how much they loved Yunho, which could only get an eye roll and scoff out of you, how ridiculous. You took some time before deciding to walk back to your car, enjoying the breeze and feeling of the night. You happened to park quite far, and the area was deserted pretty much. You were about to enter your car, when you froze.
“Y/n.” A voice called out to you, the same voice you had been hearing for the last three hours. Jeong Yunho. Did he follow you?
“Hi jackass.” You turned around to face him, his body a lot closer to yours than you expected it to be. Crossing your arms across your chest, you tilted your head at him.
“Thanks for coming, didn’t expect you to.” The man was going to attempt to have a decent and human conversation with you, however In that moment, Yunho realized what you were wearing, the expression upon his face was different from his usual smug look. It was desire, absolute filthy desire. Yunho became enamored by you that day you two met, and here you were, wearing the cute little dress which made him obsessed with you forever. Did you know? You did this on purpose, surely.
“Are you trying to just make me fucking crazy? you know what you're doing don’t you?” His body was inching closer to yours, making you press your back against your car door.
“What on earth are you talking about?” You were clueless, but you could feel your cheeks heat up as he got closer, gripping onto the bottom of your dress tightly. If you hated him so much, why the fuck were your panties getting soaked?
“That dress.. fuck y/n are you really that fucking dumb?”
“What d— oh crap.” How didn’t you realize? You were dumb, so fucking dumb. “So what? It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart was fucking racing, it definitely did mean something. How did you forget? He didn’t. He never forgot anything.
“It does to me, ever since I saw you in this dress that showed just enough for me to imagine you under me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Did you know that? You didn’t, because you’re a dumb little bitch.” Yunho didn’t intend on insulting you, but he knew she wasn’t bothered by that, a smirk painted his lips as he noticed your change in demeanor, your cheeks flushed pink, legs squeezing together.
“Yunho fuck y—“ But before you could continue, his large hand came to cup your jaw from underneath, whimpering under his touch. Who knew this asshole could turn you into a dumb slut just like that? Leaning into your ear, his hot breath made your body shudder.
“Shut up, shut the fuck up.” A growl from him before his lips crashed against yours ever so harshly, his tongue swiping your bottom lip, muffling the moans which threatened to escape your lips. Usually your first instinct would be to push him away but this time you couldn’t. His hands moved to grip onto your hips tightly as he pressed himself against you. You could feel how hard he already was just against you, making you soak your panties within just a couple minutes. You were out in the open, no one was around but the rush of knowing anyone could see you any second only made you more heated, your arms finally deciding to move and wrap around Yunho’s neck.
Yunho pulled away, dragging your bottom lip with him, biting on it as one of his hands slipped, letting it slide to your white lace panties, your cheeks turning scarlet red as you realized how soaked they really were, whimpering as he pushed them to the side. Fuck, a little touch was enough to send you to the sky.
“You always act like you hate me yet look at you, wet as shit like a dumb slut. My little baby.” He hissed, his tone a little mocking as two of his slender fingers entered your wet, sloppy, cunt. causing you to throw your head back against your car. He hadn’t even started yet. His fingers sliding in easily due to your arousal, pumping them in and out of you, abusing your tiny little cunt just as he always wanted. Your core was practically burning from the sensation of his fingers, they were pistoning inside you.
“Y-Yun..” You moaned out stupidly, he was only fucking you with his fingers and you could barely talk coherently. How pathetic? Yunho loved it though, he was waiting for this day for so long, to have your head so cloudy to the point you could only mumble his name, to be a mess on his fingers. A dream. Oh how beautiful you looked, your eyes rolling back, pressed against your car under the moonlight. Yunho’s brow cocked, tilting his head slightly and sinking his lips onto your neck, sucking and nibbling against your delicate porcelain skin, painting your skin purple, his tongue swiping his artwork once he was finished.
Yunho decided to insert another finger, watching you squirm was a delight to his eyes. The tent in his pants threatened to push past the fabric, perhaps even some precum already at the tip. He was desperate to fuck you, but he wanted to do it properly, and prep you of course before he took you home and absolutely destroyed you. Besides, the thrill of someone spotting him finger you senseless in the parking lot was a rush, especially to his hardening cock.
The sloppy and wet sounds coming from his fingers in your cunt was beautiful, filling the air. However as soon as he felt you tighten around his fingers he pulled them out, stuffing his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, taking in your sweet taste. “You taste incredible whore. Though.. you think I'm gonna let you cum? The only time you get to do that is on my cock.” Once again, his mocking tone irritated you and you were beyond pissed that you were denied your orgasm. The man was edging you and you hated it, squeezing your thighs together.
“Fuck you Yunho.” You spat, huffing and crossing your arms across your chest. Yunho simply laughed in amusement at your reaction. “So are you gonna fuck me or what?” The sheer annoyance in your voice only made his cock twitch, he absolutely was infatuated by you, he loved your bitchyness.
“Im not done with you just yet, get in the backseat.” Happily you obliged, thinking he was going to slide his cock into you, you hobbled around into the back and laid down, he came in after you, closing the door and pressing himself down. Yunho teasingly grinded his hips against you so you could feel him, and fuck was he hard, you whined under him, groaning when he moved to slide your dress up and slide down your panties completely, shoving them in his pocket. Gotta keep a souvenir right? “Let me get another taste of you.”
You couldn't help but grumble, he was having so much fun and all you wanted was to be fucked into next week. But of course with Yunho that wasn't possible whatsoever. The man shuffled back and sunk his head down to meet your cunt, the sweet smell of your arousal allowed a soft moan to escape his lips before his tongue swept along your soaked folds, his hands gripping onto her skin, as his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked away, looking up to see her face scrunched up, her back ever so slightly arched. Yunho couldn’t get enough of her taste.
Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging on it as he sucked your clit softly, the moans parting from your mouth getting increasingly louder as he continued to swipe his tongue. You were well aware he’d deny another orgasam of yours, it wasn’t fair. The sensation was so different to what you'd experienced before from other partners. Yunho was definitely skilled. It only made you more eager to see how well he’d fuck you. The situation was quite bizarre. A week ago, you wouldnt of thought that you’d be lying in the backseat of your car having Yunho eat out your pussy.
Just like you predicted though, Yunho stopped as soon as you were close once again, being denied your second orgasm. “I fucking hate you.” You groaned, kicking his chest with your foot slightly as he scoffed.
“If you hated me so much, I wouldn’t be tasting you.”
“Fuck you.”
“You will sweetheart, just patience. Now, lets go home okay? I'm sure youre dying to cum.”
Yunho laughed as he left the back of the car and entered the front, he was in the drivers seat.
“Well? Come on. You can give me head as we drive.”
All you could do was roll your eyes as you shifted to the front seat, climbing your way forward and glared at him. “Im not doing it.”
“That's alright, my cock will be filling you up soon anyway.”
To be continued.
676 notes · View notes
Note
hii!! i really adore your content and i was wondering if you’d make a tom version of the thick!reader fic you did? it makes me feel so much better about my body type, especially picturing an accurate description of my body in a th imagine (it’s free therapy fr) <33 you’re so brilliant and im really happy you take the time to write for us <3
Aww, thank you for reading content and sure I can! Your body type is beautiful, don't feel bad about it! I'm glad to give the therapy I lacked (and still lack) to you! Thank you for the compliments and I hope you enjoy!
Tom Kaulitz x Thick Reader
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The literal definition of "crush my head between your thighs"
Hand on your thigh
AT ALL TIMES
never matters when, where, how
He don't give a shit
Lots of pictures of him with a smirk on his face as you look ready to slap him
Wanna know why?
He's copping a feel of your boob, his hand is just holding the side of it all proud in the pictures
He will take any chance to touch you
A proud boyfriend per se
Does not care who the hell sees him
Will gladly have a fucking make out session
If you're in the band, he probably will grab your ass on stage if your cool with that
Type of asshole to smack your ass a bit when you bend down
Tell him to stop and he will
But if you don't?
Be ready
He would love any body type you have
His head is gonna be buried in your boobs most of the time anyway 
Or when your laying down on your stomach his head is probably on your ass
Or if you're laying on your side his head is on your hip
Will bite your stomach at any given time
If you wear crop tops, bikinis, short skirts, tight shirts or any tight clothing
Bitch turns almost into a full on dog in love
It's stupidly funny
Arms around your waist almost in every picture anyone has of y'all
Mostly has his hand in your back also or around the shoulder
Like Bill if you give gifts randomly, he will feel a bit guilty
But he will be happy and feel a little spoiled
He'll get you a gift in return as soon as possible
Physical touch is obviously a given
So if you hug him, touch him, kiss him or anything, he is in heaven
A literal goddess from above has blessed him
He ain't holding back mf
You ever feel insecure?
Boy feels offended FOR YOU
Doesn't let you talk bad about yourself
"Huh? The fuck do you mean?! Uh- you're complaining that you look fucking hot?!" 
Bro is gobsmacked
Once he froze because you touched him and he didn't know it was you
Almost died but was happy when he turned to see you
When he first saw you he had to do a double take
"I want that one."
Followed you around like a puppy trying to get his shot
It was so funny seeing pictures of it after
Sit on his lap to make him happy
Will be insulted if you don't put your full weight onto him
Will hug you around your waist so you have no choice but too
Is in heaven smiling with his head over your shoulder
Bro is in MY version of heaven
941 notes · View notes
fariesoiree · 1 month
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caution! mdni 13k wrdz, best friend's bother!hobie x black fem! reader, hobie is twenty one, reader is 19, small town in the country, everyone knows everyone, a very brief moment of angst, reader is jealous, misunderstanding troupe (?) but quickly resolved, crybaby reader, kitchen sex w/people in the house, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, facial, cum eating, open ending
miffy's note! this took me like two weeks to write which is so much faster than every other fic i’ve written in a while. i knowwww she has a lot of words but she is my baby and I hope everyone loves her as much as I do. enjoy <3 pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs
there’s a waxy smell in the freshly opened soda shop, one that reminds you of the shiny tiles that line the floor of the high school you graduated from, the high school most people graduated from.
highbury high, smack dab in the middle of highbury hills. it’s the only high school for miles, operating on a set curriculum and generic uniforms. fits right in with the small town vibe.
“do you know what you want?” your long-time friend, maise, glances over at you. she’s a darling thing, curly hair braided into pigtails and tied with two white ribbons. her arms are crossed over her stomach, clothed in a white tank top just barely cropped. “there’s so many options, i can’t decide.”
you sniff, eyes glazing over the yellow tinted menu. your tongue skims over your lips, getting a taste of the vanilla flavored lip gloss. “i dunno. i don’t even think i want anything. i’m too nervous, like i’m gonna throw up.”
maise’s deer shaped eyes find yours in sympathetic understanding. “aw, honey. it’ll be okay. it’s been years, now. i doubt he even remembers.” her hands massage the kinks out your tense shoulders in a tight grip. “you were a kid, anyway.”
“yeah, maybe.” you offer a small smile in return. you find you’re disinterested in the menu, stomach rolling in its queasiness for the anticipated scenario. “i still don’t think i want anything. i don’t think i could keep it down.”
maise just shrugs and orders a rootbeer float for herself. she gets your anxiety but she’s never been the best at helping you through your emotions, even more so when she can’t relate. maise doesn’t have an older brother, not one with an attractive best friend that she used to have a crush on as a child.
with the acrylic, milkshake cup settled between the fingers of your friend, you both move towards the booths surrounding the perimeter of the retro-styled shop.
it’s really, very cute. quaint with pop music softly wafting from the speakers and a red, white, and blue theme consistent throughout. america’s sweetheart is what this place is known as, although you prefer to think it’s talking about a better, more ethical version of the country.
“you have to admit it’s kind of exciting, though.” despite your claims, maise still pops a second straw into the float and settles the cup between you. “i mean, your brother and hobie are coming home today and you haven’t seen hobie in like, two years. the last time anyone saw him was on graduation day, right? and then he packed up and left town. and your brother! he kept contact this whole time and didn’t tell anyone? doesn’t that bother you a little bit?”
you wait until she’s retreated to grab the straw between your thumb and pointer finger and tap a long, drawn out sip. the sugary sweetness does nothing to quell your nerves but it gives you time to come up with a response. “mm, not really. hobie is quen’s friend. plus, everyone knew he was gonna skip town. he didn’t like it here and he made that very clear.”
although your words convey otherwise, there’s a small seed of discomfort in your tummy. it would have been nice to keep you in loop, especially since you were under the impression that you and hobie were somewhat acquainted with each other. after all, he’s been good friends with quentin since elementary school and has known you for just about the same amount of time.
“okay but you’re not even curious? not even a little?” maise tilts her head inquisitively, lips drawn in a pout. “hobie is coming home after being gone for two whole years and you don’t care at all.”
“i didn't say i don’t care, mai. i do care and it's nice that he’s stopping by for a visit but let’s be serious, it’s hobie. in all the years we’ve known him, when has he ever committed to anything?” you turn your gaze towards your baby pink nails, shiny and just long enough to clack against your phone when you text. “i don’t want you to get excited over a summer romance that hasn’t even happened and won’t happen. we’re friends and barely that. his loyalty is with quen.”
you can feel the change in the atmosphere the longer you sit in silence. you’re hesitant to look her in the eyes and find a sudden interest in the condensation trickling down the side of the glass.
“uh huh. so if you feel all of that, why are you nervous? you don’t like hobie anymore, and he owes you nothing. what’s the problem then?” she rests her cheek in the palm of her hand, supported by the elbow resting on the table.
instead of answering her question, your hand smacks down against the table. it echoes in the empty room, filled by only you two and mr. terry, the owner of the shop.
“you know what, i have to go. it’s almost three and quen should be home soon. you know how punctual he is.” you grab your purse and sling the strap over your shoulder.
“chicken!” maise points a finger at you. she’s glowing with a toothy grin while watching you prepare to bolt for the door. “you can’t avoid it forever, honey.”
you brush off her comment with a hug and a wave. “whatever. love you. i’ll call you tonight with the details, maybe. bye!”
you all but run out of the shop, white sundress blowing with the opposing force of your movement. it’s not quite three o’clock yet but leaving is better than letting maise interrogate you further. she’s a riot but she got you pinned up against the wall and there’s nothing fun about being forced to answer her questions and face the music you’ve been tuning out for weeks. at least now you’d have some time to freshen up before the great arrival.
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by the time you’re finished primping and set the hot curler down to refresh your styled silk press, you can hear the engine of your brother's lexus rolling into the driveway.
you lean forward and tug the curtains back in a firm grip to peak out into the driveway. between you and quentin, you received the larger room with the connected bathroom and it offered a perfect view of the front yard. said view is particularly handy for times like these.
you watch the driver door pop open, breath hitched in your throat and refuse to make any movements until you get the answers you're looking for.
a polished sneaker makes its appearance and becomes stationed on the white pavement. a body follows, tall and stocky and unlike the statuesque frame you’re subconsciously excited about.
pushing yourself even more to your feet and across the expanse of your vanity, you flick the latch of your window until it clicks to signal its unlocked. you push it up with such force that it soars much farther than you anticipated but that’s the least of your concerns right now.
“quentin!” you yell from your bedroom with a wide smile and a vigorous wave at your older brother below you.
your voice gets his attention and he snaps his head in your direction. “ ☆ !” he mirrors your expression, arms open wide in a hug as if he expected you to fly down into his embrace. he bumps the car door closed with his side. “i’m coming up.”
quentin’s words don’t stop you from flinging your door open, running down the stairs, fingertips grazing the wooden railing as you go. to some it may seem odd to be so cheery over the reappearance of your sibling but he��s your best friend, a staple part of your life to which you’d be lost without. if you aren’t running to the front door to see him, then there’s clearly a problem.
he’s already in the entryway, though, and peeling off his jacket to hang in the coat closet. the pittering of your feet long alerted quentin of your presence so he’s not shocked when you’re throwing yourself at him. “jeez, girl. did you eat a whole cow? you’re strong as shit.” his arm comes to wrap around your back and become settled between your shoulder blades.
“shut up,” you roll your eyes in return and separate yourself from him. you give him a once over, from the two strand twists at the top of his head, across the gray nike tech, and to the pristine white laces of his shoes. “wow, you really don’t look like you belong here anymore. that’s crazy, quen. you’re all grown up.”
“yeah well,” he pushes the closet door closed, waiting for its creaking hinges to silence before continuing his sentence, “gotta get out of this town someday. not you, though. you can stay. it suits you.” quentin’s eyes are filled with a brotherly fondness while giving you a similar once over. “where’s ma?”
you follow him to the bathroom to watch him wash his hands. “at work. dad, too. told me to text them when you get home but, uh, where’s all your stuff?”
quentin flicks his wrists into the sink and side-steps you. he rounds the corner to enter the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge and popping it open. “oh, it’s at hobie’s place. i figured i’d leave the extra shit there since he has his own crib. do you know what mom’s making for dinner?”
you’re still trailing behind him, now leaned against the countertop with your arms crossed over your chest. when you’re face to face with the source of your turmoil, it’s hard to pretend it doesn’t exist. “so he really is back in town, huh.” it's not a question with the way you say it, staring at your fluffy sandals designated for wearing inside the house.
“mhm. forgot how talkative people here are. news spreads fast.” he pulls out a container of last night's leftovers and sets it beside you, already closing the fridge and moving on to find a plate. when his eyes find their way back to you, he’s surprised to see you glaring at him. “why are you looking at me like that?”
“because i’m a little upset that you didn’t tell me he was coming home. i get it if he didn’t want to draw attention to himself but it’s just me. i thought we were all cool.”
“we are all cool. it just slipped my mind, swear.” quentin bounces around the kitchen. he’s still engaged in your conversation though his sole focus is getting some food in his system but every now and then, he’ll glance at you while scooping fried rice onto a plate. “i didn’t intentionally not tell you. i just had a lot to do with the packing and the whole coming home thing. plus, you just finished your first year of college so i didn’t think you’d care so much. which you also still have to tell me how it went,” he puts the fork in his mouth and sticks the plate in the microwave.
“quentin,” you’re tempted to stomp your foot, no matter how childish it will come across.
“i didn’t exclude you on purpose, ☆ . i forgot and i’m sorry. next time, i’ll tell you as soon as i know.”
you’re somewhat pacified with his response, tossing his words over and over in your head until your concerns are soothed and the gloomy feeling dissipates. “fine but you have no idea what i had to go through with maise today. i swear she had all these theories and speculations about what its going to be like that i could have avoided if you told me.”
the microwave beeps, ringing its alarm that the timer has finished all throughout the kitchen. quentin is quick to take out his steaming plate and make his way towards the table with you still in tow. “oh, maise! how is she? i haven’t seen her in a minute.”
“she’s good. good grades, likes her college, majoring in child development. who cares, though. i want to know about hobie. it’s been two years.” you sit next to him, even going as far as pushing the chairs closer as if the topic needed it, as if hobie is a taboo subject.
“he’s great. he’ll be by later, said he wanted to stop by and see you and then he has to make his rounds.” quen shovels a forkful of food into his mouth. he’s eyeing his plate with an almost blank stare. you’re too close for him to feel comfortable looking at you, expectantly. as if he’s going to drop some big news about hobie’s return.
he's not an idiot. he knows, knew, about your crush on his best friend. it was obvious watching you go through all the childish phases, giggling to clinging onto to him to trying to play it cool. quentin has seen it all and he doesn’t think he can handle watching your excitement grow and dull when hobie ultimately makes his decision to leave. “he’s got that place he rents out when he’s not here. don’t know how long he plans on staying, though. when i asked, hobie said two months so i guess we’ll see.”
you’re blissfully unaware of the idea that quentin’s words are for your sanity, to calm the budding excitement as you gather strands of your hair between the tips of your fingers and stare at the freshly trimmed ends. “that’s nice. maybe he’ll come to the summer festival in a few days.”
that elicits a scoff out of your brother. “fat chance. hobie brown? he’s not showing his face at those things. he thinks they’re capitalistic holidays that prey on children. personally, i think he just really hates this town and is coming up with a bullshit excuse not to go.”
you let the bundle of hair between your fingers go and it drops back towards your shoulder in a soft heap. “did he say that or are you speaking for him?”
“he doesn’t have to say it, stupid. i just know.” quentin points his fork at you, flinging grains of cooked rice in your direction. despite the gross reaction that flashes across your face, all he does is laugh. genuine laughter with his head tilted back, clearly delighted to have bothered his dear sister. “it was an accident. i didn’t mean to.”
“get away from me.” you scrunch your face in disgust and shove the chair away from the table. it screeches against the floorboards with each movement. “you don’t point your fork at someone, dumbass. that’s fucking gross.” you say as you rise to your feet and make your exit, rolling your eyes on the way out.
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it’s futile to pretend you aren’t looking forward to hobie pulling into the driveway. behind the closed door of your room, you barely watch the virgin suicides. the volume to the movie is turned down so low, you can almost hear your neighbor’s dog trotting on the pavement enjoying its walk. you’ve even gone as far as to open your window just in case you’d be too preoccupied to hear him as is.
you haven’t bothered to change out of the pretty dress, wanting to give off the best first impression you possibly could. after all these years have passed, it’s nearly critical that hobie sees you as you are, an adult. not because you still harbor feelings for him, but because that’s what you are now. you’re all grown up, just as he is.
quentin’s asleep in his room and offering you no answers as to when his friend is actually arriving nor did he request you to wake up when he does so. it’s only right to assume he’d rather stay asleep when hobie arrives then, isn’t it? especially after such a long trip.
hence why when the sound of hobie’s motorcycle reverberates through the glass pane of your window, you roll off your bed and to your feet with a sudden quickness. contrary to the excitement you greeted your brother with from your upstairs bedroom, you close the window the moment you reach it.
as soon as the white latch clinks shut, you’re flying out the door and down the stairs. the tips of your fingers graze the railing, only truly grasping it when you find yourself losing your balance at the speed you’re moving. if only maise could see you now.
you pull the front door open before hobie has a chance to ring the doorbell with such force, he flinches. there’s still a finger hanging in the air, adorned in silver rings and what seems to be a hand tattoo. that same hand is connected to a body, just as tall as you remember. your eyes trail as far as his shoulders, gaze already tilted upwards and too nervous to continue. it never occurred to you what being face to face with hobie would mean, would entail.
you didn’t think about him and his pine scent, paired with the natural musk of being outside. not once did you even think about the possible changes he’d go through within the past two years. even without looking at his face, you can already point out differences. he’s leaner, more muscles protruding from his tank top. grungier too, with dark wash baggy jorts sitting so low on his waist, you can see the calvin klein boxers peeking through the bottom. if you thought seeing hobie show off his toned stomach was a lot, the sight of the ink on his arm has you at a loss for words. a full sleeve of various line art and doodles.
you’re sick to your stomach.
“you’re back in town!” you finally gain the courage to look him in his eyes and nearly fall to your knees. “and you pierced your face!” your eyes dart between the nose piercing, the lip piercing, and the eyebrow piercing. slowly, you soak it all in, including the shoulder length locs tied into a ponytail. only after all of that do you look him in his eyes, filled with the same warmth and wonder as they were two years ago.
“ ☆ !” hobie’s face lights up with the same childlike glee as before, too. it’s like nothing has changed when he throws his arms around you to envelop you into a tight hug. “you noticed, did you?” he chuckles, deep and smooth right in your ear. unfortunately for you, it sends spirals into your stomach.
“do you like them? i want to get my tongue pierced this summer, too.” he finally pulls away and reveals his toothy grin, full of dazzling white teeth that can only come from regularly visiting a dentist. “but how have you been? i haven’t seen you in forever. you’re so . . .” he gives you his own once-over, much shorter than the one you gave him, “not a little kid anymore.”
you aren’t too sure what to make of that but you step aside anyway to welcome him into your home. suddenly, you’re far more nervous than you were at the mere thought of hobie coming over. he was intimidating just as a concept but in person? he’s even worse. he’s too pretty and composed. “i’m so not a little kid anymore?” you try to offset your awkwardness by turning the situation back to him.
“yeah. i mean, you look nice, ☆ .” hobie stands with his hands in his pockets and a lazy smile. there’s not one ounce of embarrassment or hesitation written on his face. however, it oozes out of you. “so, where’s your brother at? he’s supposed to be going around town with me. it makes it less weird if we’re both there.”
“oh, quen fell asleep a few minutes ago.” you say with your back to hobie, disguising your reluctance as a sudden interest in turning the lock rather slowly. “you’re welcome to wait until he wakes up but he’s out cold.”
hobie clicks his tongue with a sigh, eyeing the walls of your childhood home. it’s still lined with the same family portraits and kindergarten crafts. there’s even his own graduation picture on the mantle, sandwiched between yours and quentin’s. he snorts at the sight, dressed in the same black graduation cap and gown but missing some of the cords adorned by the others. not only was hobie not too involved in the community, but he merely did what he had to in school with the exception of a few clubs and hobbies. “no, he’ll probably be knocked for a while. i’ll just do it later, i guess.”
you nod, hugging yourself in a tight grip. your act to self soothe during your one-on-one isn’t very effective. the air feels thick with tension. you have the impression that it’s one-sided because hobie turns to face you. 
“how about you come with me instead? we can ride around and go to that one park we used to go to as kids.”
for a moment, your heart drops to your feet. staring into his eyes does nothing good for your nervous system. as much as you attempted to convince both maise and yourself that you harbor no feelings towards hobie at all, everything in you is screaming otherwise.
your eyes settle on the floorboards and you sniff. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’d feel comfortable on your bike. don’t you have to wear gear and stuff?”
“well, yeah i’m supposed to.” he shrugs. his head is tilted to one side. “i don’t, though. not here at least. if i’m on the highway or in a big city then yeah but not here. nothing ever happens here.”  parts of the hobie you subconsciously fear appear as a shadow on his face. the corners of his mouth twitch downwards and his eyes become clouded, but only for a second. “we can take your car if you’d like. i saw it in the driveway. it’s cute.”
he’s referring to the little volkswagen beetle parked just outside with a tan exterior and a decorated interior. it’s full of flower vent clips, pink seat covers, and scented with gain car air freshener.
“um,” you busy yourself by smoothing your hands over the skirt of your dress. suddenly, you’re reflecting on the fact that you are somewhat dressed up. sure, you curl your hair and wear cute dresses on the regular but never have you worn a cute dress, curled your hair, waited for someone to come over, and beat them to the door before they could announce their arrival. “sure. i guess we can do that. i don’t want you to think you have to, though. you came for quentin and he’s asleep so don’t force yourself.”
you’re surprised when hobie laughs, nose wrinkling with genuine enjoyment. he shakes his head and places his hand on your shoulder. it engulfs your skin like a warm blanket and gives you a squeeze. “never change, okay? you’re so sweet. get your keys and let’s go.”
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there’s a strawberry field just across the park guarded by a wire fence. some kids gather around the edges and pluck the berries off the overgrown branches that poke just close enough for them to reach with their little fingers.
the breeze carries the sounds of high-pitched laughter and squeals from the children running about. with school just recently letting out, the park is well occupied. it’s a surprise to no one to see a crowd of elementary schoolers running around the slides and pushing each other on the swing.
you sit at a bench. the metal is warmed from the sunlight beaming down. you have your phone in your hand, pumping out back to back texts to maise filled with terrible grammar and even worse spelling. to say you're panicked would be an understatement. you’re more than panicked. you feel so wrong about being here, more or less alone with your brother’s best friend. the same best friend that you’ve had the biggest crush on for years, only for him to disappear and for you to assume everything you’ve ever felt and thought would be gone with him. the same best friend who’s return brought back the juvenile feelings from your youth.
he’s gone to the ice cream truck parked in the parking lot to buy you both popsicles and therefore, giving you about five minutes to figure out your game plan. maise is no help. most her texts consist of “i told you so” and laughing at your inevitable demise. you feel just about ready to melt into the pavement and through your phone across the park, in no particular order. your nails just might break your screen with the amount of force between each push.
“are you mad at someone?”
you're quick to turn your phone off in the amount of time it takes for you to look up at hobie, standing in front of you with two popsicles, one in each hand. “huh? oh, no. it’s just maise. she’s being so stupid.” the frustration has yet to dissipate and your face shows it, huffing a breath of annoyance. “you’d think you ask someone for advice and they’d actually give it to you instead of making fun of you.”
“mm,” hobie has a seat next to you. he hands you the powerpuff girls popsicle, very obviously supposed to be styled after bubbles. its still in it’s wrapper and it’s a good thing at that. already the popsicle began to get a little soft in the summer heat. “advice about what?” he, himself, holds one of those spongebob ones that never come out right. for a moment, you consider that perhaps he’s reminiscing about the days where you, quentin, and hobie would run out at the sound of the ice cream truck and get the silly cartoon popsicles, only to compare who’s looks the worst.
“oh, just about my classes. i don’t know if i want to take one of my electives or not.” you spit out the lie faster than you can really process it. you peel the wrapper off the popsicle and stick it in your mouth to give you an excuse not to speak.
“i definitely can’t help you with that. i didn’t go to college so i really wouldn’t know.” for a brief moment, hobie finds humor in the distorted face of his spongebob popsicle before taking a small bite of the cold corner. “what’s it like? do you like it?”
the question makes you sigh. there really is no response you can give him that would push the conversation forward, especially when you have been asked the very same thing so many times by almost every adult in your life. “um, it’s okay. it’s hard, y’know, to find the motivation to make myself go to class and there’s always some sort of drama going on between someone and someone else.” you reminisce on the boy and friend drama you’ve both witnessed and experienced from a bittersweet perspective.
hobie nods, watching a group of giggling ten year olds run by. they seem to be participating in a game of tag, their cheeks rosy and eyes glistening with what can only be found in childhood. “can’t believe you’re in college now. that used to be us, playing at the park and then going to your house to have dinner.”
you don’t mention that hobie didn’t come to your graduation. instead, you kick a rock by your foot and change the topic of the conversation. “so, if you don't go to college, what do you do?”
“i’m a server at a restaurant. it makes pretty good money, actually. i can afford a one bedroom apartment in the city so i don’t mind. i’m in a band now too and sometimes i make stuff to sell.” he pulls out his phone for a split second to check the notification that vibrated in his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.
you’re grateful that he doesn’t outright tell you what he makes so you’re able to participate in the conversation and ask him, “what kind of stuff?”
“oh, like paintings, crochet stuff, stuff like that. arts and crafts that people like to buy. it does pretty well since that kind of thing is trending.” 
the conversation falls a bit flat after that. you fault yourself, too self conscious to relax around him. a part of you is overjoyed to have him back and another part of you feels like a neglected afterthought. all this time, hobie was doing just fine. he was living his life and choosing who to keep contact with. it hurts your heart that he didn’t consider you at all but is so comfortable with returning and acting like nothing has changed. perhaps he didn’t take you as seriously as you would like.
“oh, that’s cool.” you try not to sound too sour when you say it. “it’s great that you made a life you enjoy.” you watch a blue drop of melted popsicle roll down and drip onto the white plastic gripped between your fingers. gravity continues to pull the droplet down towards the stick and it stains the wood blue.
hobie glances at you, eyebrows knitted together. he takes in your expression and the subtext behind it. it’s obvious what he’s doing behind his scrutinizing gaze. “yeah? you can be honest. you know that, right?”
“mhm,” you nod with a hum. you’re not interested in engaging any further with the topic. instead, you eye a ladybug crawling on the bench armrest. it’s not like you planned on discussing your deep emotional feelings with him anyway, especially not here. “i’m happy for you, really.”
you can still feel hobie’s eyes boring into the side of your face but the feeling does nothing to capture your attention and turn your head back towards him. instead, you nearly praise whatever higher power caused your conversation to be interrupted by an onlooker.
“oh my gosh, hobie brown!”
you both turn your head to the perpetrator. hobie is just as surprised as you are to see magnolia, from high school, walking up to you both. you don’t know her very well considering she was in the same graduating class as your brother but you’re aware of her.
truthfully, you’ve never liked her very much during your younger years. you despised the way she’d cling onto hobie and quentin, often forcing her way into their circle. at least, you’d consider it forcing. quentin always told you not to worry about it.
here she is again, forcing herself into your hangout with your supposed friend who’s there with you. she’s grinning as she walks up to you both, hands planted on her waist. you so badly want to judge her for her outfit choice but you know you can’t. it’s not like you don’t know what type of person magnolia is and how much she pushes the social standards most people operate with. still, something vile twists inside you and even more so when you catch hobie’s eyes wandering across her body.
that is also no surprise because you know their history. of course hobie wouldn’t be able to deny himself from staring at magnolia like this when she’s wearing daisy dukes, a tiny shirt, and so ready to reopen the book of their past.
“look at you. can’t believe you didn’t come by the moment you got back,” she teasingly smacks his arm with a tinkling laugh. her eyes briefly drift to your direction and she smiles out of politeness. “oh hey, sugar. tell your brother i said hi, would you?”
you nod and pull your lips tight. suddenly, what interest you did have died a painful death and you turn back to the ladybug as your only comfort. unfortunately, that too is gone and you’re left with nothing but the ability to listen in on a conversation you want nothing to do with.
“aw, maggie. don’t worry, i’m still planning on it. you’ll get a very special and personal visit, just for you.”
“promise?”
you nearly choke, face scrunching up in disgust. you’re not five and can read between the very obvious lines. you feel the need to remind them that you are quite literally right there and swallow the green monster making a nice home in your heart. “i don’t mean to interrupt but i have to get home and get ready for dinner. do you want me to give you a ride, hobie, or are you good?”
you try to hide your disappointment before hobie can say anything. you can tell by his hesitation and expression what decision he’s going to make, glancing between both you and magnolia. he’s going to spend some quality time with her. “i think i’m good but you should get back. drive safe, okay? text me when you get home.”
“okay. then, i’ll see you later.” you rise to your feet and dig your hand into your purse, searching for the keys to your car. “bye magnolia. it was nice seeing you again.” her words of the returned gesture fall on deaf ears as you turn and head back to the parking lot. there’s a frown etched on your face and you dump the mostly-eaten popsicle into the trash.
it never crossed your mind that you’re not the only one who is looking forward to hobie back around. you’ve been so used to viewing yourself as the center of the universe that not once did you think about literally anyone else who has been involved in hobie’s past.
you pull the door open of your car and get inside, staring out of the windshield. you feel so teenage girl romcom movie but you don’t know what to do about it. one half of you wants to sob and rot in your bed and claim your heart is broken and the other part of you just wants to go home, eat dinner, and call maise.
you sit there like that for a few minutes before eventually turning on your car and starting the drive home. sza blares through the radio and is your only solace on your lonely drive home.
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“no! and then she just shows up and takes him?” maise pulls out two small boxes of sour patch kids out of the plastic grocery bags on the counter. her eyes are wide and she’s hanging on to every part of your story.
it’s been about a week and a half since that time in the park with hobie and you’re still reveling in the emotions of it. you have yet to make a decision on how to conduct yourself around him and as a result, have begun to avoid him. you find it’s better not to be near him at all than to stand there and know that he wanted you to leave him so he could probably have mind blowing sex with his small-town fling.
“she just walks right over and he basically starts drooling.” you’re also unloading various snacks and a liter of soda from the grocery bags. tonight, you both plan to watch movies and eat junk food until your tummies are threatening to burst and you’re both ready to pass out from exhaustion. “i’m so stupid. i should have known. we weren’t even in the same crowd back then. why did i think anything would be different now?”
maise pities you just a bit. she sympathetically presses her lips into a pouty frown and reaches over the counter to grab your hand. “poor baby. in your defense, you have more of a southern belle, sweetest girl in town thing going for you and hobie is the exact opposite. it makes sense why he’d go for magnolia. you two have nothing in common and you’re virtually inexperienced.”
“i have experience!” you begin to pile the various snacks into the bin you brought down from your room just for the special occasion. “i have plenty of experience.”
“you had one situationship for half of your first year of college that treated you like shit. that’s not experience, babe. that’s trauma.”
you whip your head to give maise a pointed glare at bringing up what you’re trying so hard to forget. that chapter of your life is over and it died the moment the academic year ended. “okay but the point is, i am not a baby and i bet i could fuck just as good as she can. he just sees me as a little girl and i can never change that.”
“so what are you going to do?” your friend leans against the counter on the opposing side of you. she crosses her arms over her chest after adjusting her black leggings as they have risen above her ankles.
“nothing,” you say with a sigh. you grab the basket and hoist it onto your hips. “like i said, he sees me as a child. i’m just going to do what i’ve been doing, nothing. ignore him. just keep my distance until he goes home and forget all about him.”
what you don’t tell maise is that magnolia isn’t the only one. sometimes, the habits from your childhood return and you sit yourself at quentin’s door with your ear pressed up against the wood. you listen to his conversations with hobie, sometimes on the phone and sometimes in person, about his recent endeavors with the locals in town. so far, there has been at least one other girl since magnolia. whether he bounces between spending his nights with the two, you’re unsure and you don’t think you even want to know.
maise begins to open her mouth to say something but snaps it shut at the sound of the front door opening. there’s an irregular pattern that comes from two people coming through the door and for a moment, your face flashes with panic.
“i’m beginning to hate going out with you. every single time there’s always some girl ready to — oh hey.” quentin stops in the middle of his sentence as soon as he spots you standing in the kitchen. he jumps a bit, not having expected to see both you girls watching him walk into the house. “what are you doing here, maise?”
“we’re having a movie night.”she rises to standing and positions herself at your side.
“the sun is still out.” quentin lifts a finger to point to the window with the blinds open. sunlight streams through the trees of your backyard and reaches the living room.
“yeah. we just came back from the store and now we’re pregaming by talking shit.” she throws an arm around your shoulder, taking notice of your silence and lack of movement. it’s almost like you’re not breathing and it’s definitely because hobie is standing right there in all his glory, smiling right at you. maise using her grip on you to subtly nudge some sort of humanity back in you.
“anyway,” you clear your throat and take a sudden interest in reorganizing the bin of snacks, “we’re going to get going. we have a lot of girl stuff to talk about so see you later.” you take maise’s hand and take the lead in walking past the two and up the stairs of your house. you don’t miss the quizzical looks from both men at your hastiness to get out of being around them.
frankly, this isn’t the first time you’ve made a bolt to get out of being in the same room as them, but only when hobie is around. however, no one makes a move to question it and lets you do as you please. to quentin, it’s a sign you’re no longer hung up over his best friend and is far better than getting your hopes up for nothing. to hobie, you’re abhorrently avoiding him for some reason and he can’t stand it at all.
it makes him antsy, as if there’s some big impending doom coming that he won’t be able to stop. it makes him uncomfortable to see you get along so well with others and flee the moment he steps into the room and oddly enough, it’s only ever started happening since that one day. was it something he said or did? surely it can’t be because he didn’t accompany you back home. after all, you did text him to let him know you made it safely like he requested so he thought everything was fine. what is going on with you?
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it’s somewhere between the hours of two and three am when you make the decision to trek downstairs for a cold glass of water. maise had fallen asleep on the left side of your bed a half hour ago and you had beaten her. you won by staying out longer than she did and decide to reward yourself with a neutral drink to wash the syrupy taste out your mouth.
the house feels awfully cold during such hours of the night and you regret leaving the warmth of your room in your oversized shirt and little pink shorts. both of your parents came home hours ago, wished you a fun night and retired to their beds in preparation for work the next day. you’re assuming no one else is awake with the only other options being quentin and hobie, if hobie is even here.
you sniff and rub your hands along your arms as you round the corner and enter the catch. in the darkness of night and with your squinting eyes, you use what spatial awareness you have to guide your way to the glasses in the cabinet.
you just manage to wrap your fingers around it before there’s some sort of shuffling behind you. you’re unnerved, almost dropping the glass in the time it takes you to look over your shoulder at the perpetrator. “hello?” you try to make out the form in the dark and find purchase in the knife drawer in front of you.
“it’s just me.” the voice is gruff and familiar and washes over you like a relaxing wave of warm water. “sorry, i wasn’t trying to scare you.”
“hobie?” you lean towards him to make out his figure in the shadows. the moonlight does little to aid in visibility. there is only a pale light struggling to come through the window. you have to reach over and turn on the stove light just to see him since your eyes have yet to adjust. “i thought you went home?”
“i did. i went to see my parents and it went just about as well as i thought.” hobie takes a seat at the bar stools behind the aisle. he seems strained, running his hand over his face with a sigh. “so i came back because i like it here more.”
“why didn’t you just go to your own house?” you feel a little underdressed in your attire all of the sudden. sure, you are preparing to go to sleep and in the comfort of your own house but you’d hate to give off the impression that you’re walking around without pants on.
“because i like it here more. pretty sure i said that,” now he’s rubbing his eyes, sitting up to lean against the back of the chair. “if you’re getting a glass of water, can you get me one too?” hobie’s lips turn up into a small, sad smile. his eyes look tired, worn out from whatever went down at his parents’ house.
you forgot all about the glass in your hand, looking down at it as if it’s appeared from the ether. “oh, you can just have mine. i’m probably going to go back to bed.” you’re still dead set on ignoring hobie. for one,  it makes it so much easier to get used to the feeling of disappointment that he doesn’t see you when you literally don’t have to see him. not to mention, it’s difficult enough to look him in his eyes but to be alone with him and look him in the eyes? you have to go.
you set the glass down on the island and slide it over to him, prepared to take a quick and silent walk back to the safety of your room and your best friend asleep on your bed. “goodnight, hobie.”
you don’t make it very far before hobie is speaking to you, again. his gaze is following your attempt at escaping him and it’s annoying him that this is probably the thousandth time you’ve evaded him. “what is up with you? i’m clearly going through something and would benefit from talking about it with someone. i literally just left your house and showed up again and you’re not even going to ask me how i got in?”
you try to not huff when you turn to face him with an eyebrow quirked. “what are you talking about?” you clench your hands into small fists, only to flex them and release what tension you carry.
“what am i talking about? you speak like, five words to me now. i don’t know what i did to make this happen and i’m sorry but you’re literally avoiding me. you came down here for what, a glass of water? you gave me yours before you even got one and now you’re going back upstairs so you don’t have to talk to me. what did i do?”
you shake your head at his words. he’s not wrong. you have been avoiding him and looking for any way out not to speak or be around him more than you need to. still, hobie doesn’t have to bring it up. he shouldn't have brought it up. what are you going to do now? “i still don’t know what you’re talking about. i haven’t done anything to avoid you. i just don’t want water anymore and i want to go back to sleep.”
hobie presses his lips together. he’s doing his best not to stare at you with hardened eyes so he turns away, looking at the countertop instead. his frustration is palpable but he’s sensible enough to restrain himself, to keep himself from turning it into an argument. “okay, go to sleep then. goodnight.” he taps his nails against the side of the glass, listening to the little plinks ro distract himself from the unrest in his soul.
you stand there, staring at the back of hobie’s head even though he’s dismissed you. you’re free to go with no repercussions but the guilt from doing so while knowing he wanted to talk about whatever is plaguing him is too much to handle. “oh my god, fine. what is it? what happened at your parents'?”
your feet drag all the way towards the island and you sit on the bench beside him. you rest your hands in your lap and stare at the numbers reading back the time on the stove. they’re green and a great source of something to look at that isn’t hobie.
“no, it’s okay. you don’t want to hear about my problems because it’s such an inconvenience to you. i’m just going to sit here and mope, maybe cry, and go home.”
“don’t piss me off.” you tsk, picking a strand of string off your shirt. your eyes cut to him in a sideways glare, urging him to talk and quickly before you change your mind. “what’s wrong? what happened?”
hobie pokes his cheek with his tongue. he stares at the ceiling before slowly closing his eyes. “i dunno, man. it was so bad. they think i’m a disappointment or somethin’. it’s written all over their faces.”
“that’s not true. they probably were just overwhelmed that you came home.” you do your best to reassure him but even you know that’s probably a lie. hobie’s parents disapprove of him, everyone knows it. they’re embarrassed their only son turned out to be some sort of punk neanderthal and actively denounce him in public.
“don’t kid yourself, dove. my parents hate me and you know it. we all know it. i went over and they practically screamed it in my face. we had dinner for five seconds and got into a screamin’ match about how i let everyone down by runnin’ wild in the streets.” he’s squinting now. “when have i ever run wild in the streets?”
you can only shrug, unable to give him a response. you don’t know what to say to him. there is no denying what he experienced. all you can do is listen and shrug. “i’m sorry about that. you’re not a disappointment. they just can’t understand why they like it here so much and why you don’t. that can’t be easy to understand.”
“yeah well, i’ll get over it. i’ll just stay away from them and they can stay away from me and we can all pretend we aren’t related.” hobie doesn’t sound bitter, he sounds defeated. he sounds like he’s been down this road many times before and expected an outcome no different than before. however, it’s only natural for a child to wish for their parents to understand them. “anyway . . .,” his head lolls to the side until he’s looking at you, staring at you, “why are you avoiding’ me?”
your lips curl into themselves and you feel the need to excuse yourself. “i’m not avoiding you. if you’re done with your rant, i’m going to go to sleep now.” you go to rise to your feet but your attempt is short-lived when hobie catches you with his hands on your shoulders.
“yes, you are. look. you’re trying to do it right now. you’re tryin’ to leave because i’m confrontin’ you about it. i’m not going to stop pressin’ you about it until you tell me.”
one look in his eyes and you can tell he’s serious. hobie has caught you alone in the dead of night. he’s got you face-to-face and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it but lie or tell the truth, neither of which would work here.
“i’m not avoiding you, hobie. i just –,” you avert your gaze until you’re looking at literally anything else, “– i just think it’s best if we keep a distance and remain cordial. we don’t have to be friends because you're friends with quentin. you don’t have to feel like you have to be friends with me.”
“what?” the man lets you go. his arms drop back into his lap and he’s looking at you as if you’ve just proclaimed your undying love for present day denzel washington. “where is this coming from? you’ve always been a friend of mine. we grew up together. just because i’m closer to quentin doesn’t mean we aren’t close at all.”
you rack your brain to find a way around the real reason by cherry picking the words until they form a sentence that makes sense. “well, yes but i’m not like you. i don’t think there’s anything you – i just – we aren’t the same. we’re in very different crowds and i don’t want you to force yourself to get along with me.”
“okay, we’re in different crowds. what’s that supposed to mean? i’m friends with you because you are different from me. if i didn’t want to be around you or anyone who isn’t the exact same as me, i wouldn’t have come home. you’ve never been insecure about our friendship before so what’s going on?”
you’ve just about reached the end of the line. you’re frazzled and unable to keep pumping out excuses. he’s just going to disprove every single one and deny you a reason to run away. he doesn’t get it and he won’t get it. there’s only one option left to do. every ounce of your soul is screaming at you not to, already burning from the humiliation but as far as you’re concerned, you have no other option. “you don’t get it. jeez, hobie, you’re so stupid. obviously, i’m avoiding you because i have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same. i don’t want to be around you when i know you’re just going to go out and fuck every girl in town.”
your little spiel is followed by silence. while what weight was lifted off your chest, your hands are beginning to sweat from the anxiousness. still, you’ve already said it and you can’t back down so you sit firm in your decision. your eyes still begin to water from the overwhelming emotion that comes with speaking your mind like that and being met with absolutely nothing.
finally, hobie tilts his head. “fuck every girl in town? what are you talking about? is that what people are saying about me?”
you burst into tears, partly because you took that as rejection and partly because you think he doesn’t care. he just brushed off everything you said to talk about his sexual endeavors. “you’re so mean. you’re so mean and you hate me and you want me to die,” you blubber through a watery gargle. your hands are unable to keep up with the tears that stream down your face. by the time you brush one away, there’s another one that takes its place.
“oh my god.” hobie’s eyes widened in shock at your immediate reaction. it happened faster than he can blink and he’s terrified that someone is going to wake up, find you crying, and blame it all on him. “why are you crying?” he pulls you into an embrace, tucking your head beneath his chin and into his chest. despite what many would think, his skin is awfully warm to the touch and it would have been comforting if he didn’t stomp on your heart.
“because i just spilled my deepest, darkest secret to you and you don’t care. you’re bragging about how many times you got laid instead of having human emotions.” you only sob louder as he runs his fingers along your spine in what’s supposed to be a soothing manner.
“i’m not bragging about anything. i haven’t even fucked anyone since i’ve been here. where are you getting your information from?” hobie can’t decide whether or not he’s concerned or humored. he lifts your head, but only briefly, to wipe the tears on your cheeks. the moment he sees your lip tremble, he allows you to go back into the comfort of hiding against him.
“i don’t have to get my information from someone. i just know. you literally left me for magnolia and i know that you’ve been seeing some other girl. plus, quen was saying something about every girl and you when you walked in.” your words are muffled in his shirt. you feel a little guilty because of how wet it is but then you think about how hobie wronged you and wish you soaked it with your sobs.
“okay, first of all, i did not fuck magnolia. i’d have to bash my head with a brick to consider doing that. second of all, i’m not seeing anyone. i’m trying to get a temporary job while i’m still here and i have to suck up to the manager because she doesn’t like me. and why is it my fault that people like me? i can’t stop them from liking me and i can’t stop someone else from talking about it. you’ve misunderstood every single thing and now you’re yelling at me.”
you sniffle and tilt your head up. there is suspicion and doubt written all over your face. “so if you don’t like magnolia like that, then why were you looking at her like that? like you were thinking about taking her clothes off.”
hobie reels his head back, giving you a similar mystified expression. “girl, what are you talking about? if i was looking at her any sort of way it was probably because she was standing in front of the actual sun and I couldn't see. i wear contacts and i forgot to put them in. you know i wear contacts so now i’m confused.”
for a moment, you don’t say anything. you sit there and replay his explanations over and over again, searching for any holes in his story. you slowly run your tongue over your lip as the embarrassment slowly sets in. he’s right, he does wear contacts. he got them senior year of high school and you suppose you just forgot. you forgot and cried and went on him for no reason.
hobie watches you come to the realization. he can tell it’s dawning on you when your face relaxes and forms into one of mortification. this is where he decides it’s humorous to him. it’s even more hilarious when he adds the cherry on top. “and your deepest, darkest secret? i already knew. it’s not really a secret if everyone knows.”
that brings you an entire new wave of waterworks but instead, they build and build in your waterline until they eventually spill over in an occasional spill. “so you knew this whole time and let me embarrass myself? and you’re rejecting me?”
hobie reaches off and tears a paper towel square off the roll. he shakes his head, bending the square into a smaller one. he uses it to dab your cheek with a tut of his tongue. “you have to stop crying. i can’t talk to you when you’re refusing to listen to me. at least cry silently or ask questions that i can actually answer.”
“no,” you take the square from his fingers. really, you snatch it and use it to clean your dribbling nose. “i’m so mad at you. i don’t want to talk anymore.” you take this chance to get off the bar stool and move towards the trash can. you’re still sniffling and occasionally gasping for air while you clean yourself up. “you knew this entire time and didn’t say anything? i’d rather you turn me down from the beginning than give me this false sense of security. you led me on.”
“no. no, i didn’t.” hobie watches you rinse your face with water. hearing his denial just makes you angrier.
“yes you did. you knew and you said nothing.”
“no i did not. you didn’t even ask me –”
“i don’t have to ask you because i already know. you’re the worst person alive and you only care about yourself –”
“ ☆ , listen. you’ve been assuming things for weeks and look where that got you. just, stop talking and let me speak, please.” his firm tone knocks any thought out of your brain and gets you to tighten up, real quick.
you look over your shoulder, not yet ready to look at him but finally ready to accept that you just might be wrong. you lift the neckline of your shirt over your face and use it as a method to dry it.
“in order for me to have led you on, you’d have to actually confess your feelings to me. at what point do you think i should have just walked up to you and say ‘hey, i know you have feelings for me that you aren’t ready to talk about yet but i just wanted to let you know that i’m not interested’? why do you assume that i don’t feel anything towards you, anyway? maybe i do but i don’t say anything because i know it’s not going to work. let’s think about it, i rarely ever come into town. you love town. at what point would i ever come along and see you?”
“you would get your ass on your bike and drive here like you did this time,” you mumble under your breath. you stand by the sink for a moment to gather your thoughts. you’re gaining clarity through the fog but now you’re drained. you’re tired and you don’t have the energy to feel displeased over whatever he has to say. it doesn’t matter what he has to say because in the end, it’s all going to be a no. “but whatever you say. we don’t work, okay. you’re leaving soon, okay. if that’s all, i’d like to go to bed now.”
“are you mad at me?” he asks from behind you, softly. he almost purrs it and it tugs at your will. you want so badly to let him in but he doesn’t want that and so you must persevere.
you shake your head with a breath. “no. i’m not mad at you. you’re entitled to your own opinion.” you put on the blankest expression you can manage and turn to face him. you cross your arms over your chest and manage to maintain what little composure you have.
he quips a brow at you, obviously not believing your claim and even more so when you don’t say anything to confirm it. “come here for a second.”
you shift your weight until your weight is all on your right side and your hip is popped. “hobie . . .”
“just for a second,” he outstretched his hand as an offer for you.
reluctantly, you take it and give no resistance when hobie pulls you into his personal space. his hands find your cheeks and squish them together until your lips are forced into a pout. “be honest with me, baby. are you mad at me?”
he doesn’t act surprised when you pause before nodding in response. “are you still going to be mad at me if i kiss you?”
hobie watches the thought go through your mind. you consider it and the consequences that come with it. it’s going to be a meaningless kiss because hobie has drawn the line. he can’t be attached to anything from this town and you know that. still, it’s an incredible opportunity to just pass up because of morality.
you shake your head.
hobie’s lips are soft against yours. there’s a subtly sweet taste but it’s possible you’re high off  oxytocin. again, you clench your hands into fists but this time it’s to restrain yourself from holding onto him and pulling him tighter. you have to keep reminding yourself that it’s a meaningless kiss.
it’s even harder to maintain that thought when hobie’s mouth fits so perfectly against yours. he doesn’t move his hands from your cheeks but the kiss grows heated, regardless. his tongue, wet and warm, runs over the expanse of your bottom lip before worming its way into your mouth.
you mewl when it finds yours and sucks. you have to tuck your hands behind your back to hold onto your composure. your feet betray you, though, by bringing you even closer into him and in turn, into his lips.
“are you done cryin’?” he kisses the corner of your mouth and jumps to the skin along your jawline. like before, he kisses and sucks the trail of skin from there to your neck. “because it wouldn’t be right if i just left you here.”
you squirm in your spot and do your best to conceal the whines that threaten to bubble up out of your throat. “hobie, you said – you –” you finally rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in is getting more and more convincing with each passing second.
“what did i say?” he pauses his ministrations to catch his breath and give you a second to find yours. he isn’t sure how the conversation took this turn but he isn’t complaining. if anything, he’s hoping it’ll never end.
you stare at him in the yellow light from the stove. there’s still a chill in the air but you’re buzzed with need. suddenly, you’re hot. it’s sweltering even without the heat being on. you need to find a solution to your lust and quick. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back into you, deciding the solution right there in the moment.
your lips crash against each other with a burning passion. hobie stands up out of the bar stool, his hands circling around your waist. he takes steps forward and forces you back against the counter across from you. you don’t mind, entangling your hands within his scalp. you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you and it shows.
hobie turns you around and presses his hardening cock against the plumpness of your ass. you gasp at the feeling of him rutting against you with his breath fanning over your shoulder, warm and sticky. there’s something that takes over, a horny little monster that throws all your inhibitions out the window. you’re equally as turned on, rolling your hips back on his in tandem with him.
“fuck, okay. don’t get too loud.” he whispers under the sound of the fabrics moving together. out of he corner of your eye, you barely get a glimpse of him shoving his fingers in his mouth before sliding underneath your clothing. he pulls your shirt up in a balled up fist and watches his hand disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts and elastic of your panties.
they waste no time finding your clit, sticky and growing swollen from your insatiable desire. “already so fuckin’ wet.” he rubs the nub in little circles, growing accustomed to your body and what you like most. occasionally, his fingers slip and unintentionally fall too close to your entrance.
your mouth falls open in a tiny “o”. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and grinding against both his dick and his fingers. you’re sandwiched between pleasure and doing your best to keep your moans limited to a whisper. you grip the edge of the counter and you’re actually grateful for it. it’s the solace that’s keeping you grounded to reality because without it, you’re sure you would have soared to the sky. “d – don’t tease,” you pant. you reach behind you searching for hobie’s dick and you find it easily. it’s hard to miss with the hard feeling of it against your skin and you swear you feel it grow harder when you wrap your fingers around it, still clothed over his sweats.
“sorry, dove. whatever you want,” hobie flattens his palm against your pussy. his middle finger prod at your sticky entrance to test your reaction but it slips right in, much to your pleasure. he has to take it slow with your sensitivity but hobie savors every moment. he’s not in a rush, especially when your fingers squeeze and rub at his clothed cock. he’s ready to stick it in now if he truly wanted but hobie wants this moment to last. he wants to burn the memory into his head and stain his life with whatever effects you have on him.
“mmm,” you hum, spreading your legs farther to accommodate his size. just one of his fingers could make you feel so full that you’re nearly satisfied like this. you have to close your lips and run your tongue along the inside of your cheeks to wet them again. “that feels so good.”
“yeah?” hobie asks. he’s so focused on you, he doesn’t notice how you’ve also managed to get your hand under the waistband of his boxers. he only realized what’s happening when your hand brushes against the stubble of his pubes and wraps around his shaft. “oh baby,” he whines in your ear. you can feel his dick twitch and jump at the tightness of your palm. he nearly falls over your frame when your thumb begins to circle around his tip.
hobie’s fingers stutter inside you. they push farther, deeper, making contact with your g-spot accidentally. he hasn’t gotten a chance to stick another finger in before you’re whimpering and nearly finger fucking yourself with his hand. “oh my gosh, right there. right there, right there!”
if hobie could have laughed at you, he would have. however, he has better things to worry about. like how your voice is beginning to rise in volume and he just cannot have that happen. “shhh,” is all he can manage throughout his full-body shudders. he uses his other hand to drop your shirt and instead stick his fingers in your mouth. they serve the purpose he intended, muffling your noises. he didn’t anticipate for you to suckle on them as if it’s the last thing you’d ever have in your mouth.
that, paired with the handjob and your gushing pussy around his fingers, he could have came right then and there. he could have exploded in his pants and made you cum and end it there but he didn’t. instead, he forces himself to pay attention to you. he puts his pleasure on the back burner and pushes his finger deeper, even going as far as to stretch you farther by adding a second one.
with his fingers deep in your throat and drool pouring out the corner of your mouth, your legs begin to shake. your chest rises and falls with each heaved breath. if you weren’t forced into somewhat silence, you’re sure you would have been calling out hobie’s name, drunk of him and him alone.
he has no idea what words you’re gurgling but unless you’re chanting about how you’re on the verge of cumming, he doesn’t care. luckily for him, it’s almost certain that you were and it’s evident with how your body falls slack in his arms and your cunt spasms around his fingers. the sight is an ultimate turn on.
hobie pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes the saliva over your cheek. he takes the opportunity to yank your bottoms down until they’re confined to your ankles. you step out of them and turn around, reconnecting your lips with his.
once again, you’re kissing hobie as an act of hunger, pushing your lips so hard together that they nearly swell. you cup the back of his head to draw him in. you’re delighted to feel his hands on the globes on your cheeks and set you onto the counter. it’s cold on your skin and so you flinch but it becomes a faint thought when hobie’s hands are anchored on the backs of your thighs. he pushes them back until your feet are flat on the counter and your glistening pussy is all on display, still creamy from your recent orgasm.
“just gotta get a taste,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he eyes the shining cunt open and throbbing for him. he wastes no time wrapping his lips around your puffy clit, slurping at your slick. he enjoys the sapidity that’s unique to you, tangy and a bit sweet, like a refreshing dessert he could eat for the rest of his life.
he can feel the juices drip down his chin and coat the lower half of his face but that doesn’t stop him from eating your pussy like a starved man. you have to bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle the moans, watching the hobie lick between your folds and lap at your clit. your eyes are ready to roll back when hobie’s tongue pokes at your entrance. you want so badly to scream, to pull hobie’s head even closer to your aching pussy but you can’t. you can’t risk moving your hand off your mouth, knowing that the moment you do, you’ll wake up the whole house.
you compromise by using your other hand to support your weight and shift toward, putting yourself a little more onto your toes. in this new position, you’re able to move your cunt along his face. you push farther, going as far as to brush your clit along hobie’s nose.
his response is to tug your body to the edge of the counter and wrap your legs over his shoulders. your lower body is solely held up by him, his shoulder, and his hands. he swallows every ounce of your slick and sears your clit with a kiss.
it doesn’t take long before you’re finding yourself closer to the edge of a second orgasm. you ball your shirt up and shove the jumbled mess into your own mouth. your brain is foggy. you can’t think of a single thought that isn’t full of hobie, the pleasure, and the need to cum, immediately. 
“mmmf,” you wrap your legs around his neck. dig your fingers into his hair, and tug just in time for another gush of cum to come flowing out of your pussy. every muscle in your body has relaxed and become putty by now. you’re at hobie’s disposal and you love that.
“you’re so perfect, i’m devastated.” he kisses your inner thigh, continuing to trail those kisses up your stomach, between your tits, and onto your lips. he doesn’t wipe the cum off his face as he does it. instead, he makes you taste it, wrapping his tongue around yours and wetting your cheeks with the stickiness as your arousal as he does it.
“no you’re not. you won’t stay for me.” you whisper between kisses, running your hands along his bare chest under his shirt. you grab the hem and pull it up until hobie inevitably allows you to pull it off. it’s discarded and tossed onto the floor.
“i won’t stay for anyone. you know this.” he disconnects from the kiss, but only for a moment. during this time, he drops his pants to pull out his cock, raging from watching you cum not once, but twice. in the darkness, you can make out an outline of it, long and skinny with a mushroom tip and bulging veins. he’s been straining this whole time but hadn’t complained at all, loving every second of pleasing you. he could do it for hours if he had the time.
you resort to pouting as hobie sets your feet back onto the ground. with his hands on his hips, he turns you back around until your back is pressed against his chest, once again. “just say you hate me.”
“keep saying that and i’ll shove my dick in your mouth.” he says, aligning his tip with his sticky entrance. you don’t mention how his threat holds no weight if you’d enjoy it. instead, you play into it and huff, resting your hands flat on the counter.
you brace yourself when hobie begins to push deep into you. the stretch is painful at first, enough that you have to grit your teeth and will yourself to relax through the shallow thrusts to ease his way into you. it only takes a few seconds before the pain is blooming into satisfaction.
he fits so well inside you, filling you as if he was created solely for this purpose. you reach up, resting your hand on his cheek for a source of intimacy in the slow thrusts. you use the leverage of the counter to push your ass back to meet his thrusts.
you don’t know how much willpower you have to continue standing on your own when hobie is doing such a good job of fucking you dumb. even with the slow pace, you have to give in, leaning over the counter. to hobie, this is leverage for him to take control of the situation. he slots a large hand over your mouth and the other rests on the small of your back.
almost instantly, his thrusts increase tenfold. you’re certain if this was done on a bed, it would have been rocking with such an intensity against the wall. you grasp his hand covering your mouth with yours, almost screaming into his hand.
“shh, you’ll w – wake someone u – up.” he leans over you. hobie doesn’t compensate for the sound of skin slapping against each other by speaking louder. instead, he gets closer to you and because of that, angles his dick deeper into your cunt.
in this new state, you can hear every soft moan and whimper that leaves his mouth. he’s not rough about it, almost singing in your ear. his breath feels moist on your skin and adds to the fire burning in your core. “just t – take it, baby.”
you almost sob, rising onto your toes and writhe underneath him. it didn’t occur to you that you’d be overstimulated by the time you’ve reached this point. as much of your fault as it is, you like to blame most of it on hobie for pushing it this far. you wouldn’t be tempted to push him away, feeling as though he would be forcing another one out of you, if he didn’t.
you’re still, almost stuck in place. he’s too good at delivering. your body craves more and less of him at the same time. you’re certain you can feel him in your throat, ready to pop out the other side and through your mouth if this continues long enough. it’s driving you crazy, so crazy you squeeze your legs together.
it doesn’t last long because coincidentally, hobie hooks his hand under your leg and pushes it onto the counter. your cunt squelches as it swallows his size greedily. he’s obsessed with watching his length disappear inside you and the white sheen that surrounds the base. “shit, you’re gettin’ tight. gonna make me cum.”
you can only wail at his words and press your forehead against the granite. your legs have begun to quiver for the second time that night and you’re almost certain your insides are about to explode. you’re unsure what is building up inside you but it’s drawing from somewhere deep in the pits of your stomach and you’re getting nervous. there’s not much you can do about it, nor can you think about it too much because hobie’s fingers are rolling your clit between them.
the bud is all swollen and practically hot to the touch. you’re dripping down your own thighs at this point. there’s a musk that accompanies sex in the air, thick and sending you into a daze. your eyes flutter closed before they roll back. you let loose, weak streams of squirt falling into the floor beneath you.
“holy fuckin’ shit,” hobie pulls out of you so fast, you whine and crumple onto the floor. he, as the kind gentleman he is, don’t force your weak body to move positions again. instead, he steps to your side and turns your head with a hand under your chin. “open your mouth for me. atta’ girl.”
you watch him through half lidded eyes jerk his swollen cock in front of your face until he’s spurting cum all over it. your tongue dangles open and catches what remnants dribble downwards into your mouth.
hobie’s equally sensitive body stands there for a moment to catch his breath. he slowly lowers himself onto the ground until he’s able to run his thumb over your cum-covered face to collect some of it on the pad of his finger and swipe it over your tongue. “how do you feel? want water or something?”
you wordlessly shake your head and crawl into his arms, despite the fact that your face is ultimately covered in his nut. you don’t mention that what you really want to know is what happens now. “just want to shower and sleep.”
he looks at you, half asleep against him, and then around the kitchen and the few pieces of evidence left behind. for one, the scent has got to go. “i’ll get you into the bath and i’ll handle the cleanup, okay? you just rest your pretty little head.”
you’ve already beat him to it, humming in response and envisioning the comfort of your queen sized bed. if you considered things awkward before, just what until you see how you try to navigate it in the morning.
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impactedfates · 7 months
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JDBJDBDKN i’m new and in the nicest way possible, your fix’s are so TASTY I WANT TO EAT THEM SO BAD.
Not the same anon who requested the Jing Yuan’s child fics but I really loved them sm, could I get a continuation of that AU on more of reader’s divination abilities and antics and come with it? 💕💕
A/N: YOU'RE TOO KIND STOP INFOAF, I'M GLAD YOU LIKE MY FICS :D MORE DIVINER READER COMING RIGHT UP >:)
Genre/Trope: Platonic + Mainly just more HCs on reader and their antics in the divination commission with Fu Xuan (Auntie Fu Xuan anyone?)
Format: Head Cannons + Mini Scenarios
Warnings: None
Extra: More Fu Xuan in this then Jing Yuan as we're talking about readers job lol // Not fully proofread, just rambles of this AU // Reader is a teen in this // Original Jing Yuans child fic here
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I feel like how you wanting to be a diviner was when Fu Xuan had to babysit you once when Jing Yuan was busy. During this time she decided to take you to work and show you the magic future things. This sparked you, you came home and told Jing Yuan you wanted to be like Auntie Fu Xuan. He was happy you took an interest but uh *ahem* (Fu Xuan won that day)
On the rare days you do decide to be nice and not trick whoever your doing a divination for, I feel if you don't laugh or do a dramatic wince and you're serious about it. They STILL think you're pretending, thinking something really bad is going to happen.
To be honest, no matter what you do they'll think you're pretending until you're older I feel. If you wince genuinely or not they'll think you're joking as well.
[Name]: Bro your house is gonna get robbed… Random: Yeah right, what's actually going to happen? [Name]: I'M SERIOUS, YOU'RE GONNA BE HOMELESS :fearful: Random: So I'm tripping on a pebble tomorrow?
You usually have lunch with Fu Xuan, she'll probably take you somewhere peaceful where she'll eat lunch by your side...however, if word got to her that you messed with people again during the job? Expect a big lecture during your lunch break.
Qingque loves you, like. She loves your antics so much. She loves hearing them and if she manages to convince you to slack off with her, better pray Fu Xuan doesn't catch the both of you.
As much as Fu Xuan does lecture you, she cares a l o t for you. If anyone tells her you're in trouble with enemies, best believe the person who's the cause of it will be seeing a VERY angry Fu Xuan.
The two of you gossip ONLY if the both of you agree whoever youse just did a divination for was an ass. And Fu Xuan can be s a s s y.
When you were younger you tried to make some food with the things you found in your kitchen and gave it to both Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan for their lunch at work. Sadly...as a child you weren't exactly a world class chef...but they both still ate it to keep you happy.
Fu Xuan most definitely favours you over the other diviners she works with. It's so clear to the others with how she lectures others more harsher then she does you. Also your punishment for misbehaviour or slacking is always so little. But can they blame her? You're her nibling! (GN! term of nephew/niece I think)
You horribly drew her once as a gift when you were like 6 and it's been on her fridge ever since.
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I did add a Jing Yuan header first, but after writing this I realised this is more of a reader and Fu Xuan centered thing so changed it lol. Fu Xuan needs more content I feel, she's so interesting!! My next requests are all fics/mini scenarios so I'll get on those as soon as I can >:D
Also! Recently made an art blog for my ocs and other things, feel free to give it a follow if you want :>>
Art Blog: @argentimybeloved
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nonstoplover · 2 years
Text
unstoppable apologies ~ bradley 'rooster' bradshaw
my masterlist | my imagines masterlist
pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x female benjamin!reader
summary: rooster can't find the courage to ask penny's daughter out, right up until one especially tipsy night when things take a turn.
words: 4.4K
warnings: nothing really, except a lot of fluff. oh. it's not proof read.
a/n: this is my first time writing for Top Gun, even though i've been obsessed with it for many years. i guess seeing Goose's son brought it out of me. i literally haven't thought about anything else but Rooster these past weeks. he even managed to bring me out of this half a year long writer's block. (thank you miles.) anyway. this turned into a much longer fic than i originally intended, but i'm not sorry about it.
i dedicate this one to my lovely @wecomrades (even though i know you don't like reading reader insert, i'm sorry), for being my partner in crime when it comes to obsessing over Rooster and TG and also for supporting me as always. i love you so much, L <3
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It's been only two weeks since (y/n)'s started working at the Hard Deck when Penny decides to put up an addition to the sign announcing the bar's rules, saying that whoever makes eyes and/or relentlessly flirts with the bartenders will have to buy a round for everyone.
"Mom, what is this?" (y/n) groans the next day when she comes in for her shift, eyes landing on the piece of cardboard.
"Sorry, sweetie, but I'm not letting all these men undress you with their eyes. Not without a punishment anyway," Penny shrugs. "If someone wants to flirt with you, they should be serious enough about it to bear the consequences and pay a round."
"I hope you know just how embarrassing this is for me."
"Embarrassment is better than non-stop horny glances."
The girl just sighs with a roll of her eyes and goes on to help her mother clean the counter.
- - - - -
"Come on, Bradshaw, stop overthinking it," Phoenix grabs her friend's arm to slightly pull him in the right direction. "It's not like you haven't gone up there and talked to her before."
"I know, I just don't want to be too obvious with how it's always me going there. What if she doesn't like me back?" Rooster shakes his head, trying to get his arm free again.
"What if she does?" The female pilot retorts without a second of thinking. "Look, we all want another round of drinks, so please just move and get over it. Order our drinks while we continue this game."
Rooster sighs, bracing himself for the inevitable - the conversation with the girl he's developed the most ridiculous crush on. He sometimes feels like he's back in high school with the way he acts and his mind works whenever she gets in the picture, but he can't help it. There's something about her that makes him feel drawn to her when they're in-between the same four walls, making him lose all sense of rationality.
What if she does? The way Phoenix said it somehow suggested to him that she might know something he doesn't. What if?, the words keep on repeating in his head as he walks up to the counter with a little more bounce in his steps thanks to the alcohol buzzing in his system.
"(y/n) darlin', can you get us another round?" He leans in, palms spreading out on the wooden surface, his eyes focused on nothing else but the girl.
"Honestly, what is it with your group? Why can't anyone else come but you?" (y/n) giggles as she starts moving around, getting him their choice of drinks.
"Oh, be careful with your words, lady, in the end I'm gonna think you'd prefer someone else coming here."
"And what if I do? It'd be nice talking to Natasha for a change, not just to your boring face," she placed another glass in front of him with a wink accompanying her words, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip to prevent her from chuckling.
Bradley places a hand on his chest, pretending feeling pain inside. "You're deeply hurting me right now, (y/n) Benjamin."
"It's not like your ego can't handle a little bit of honesty, Bradley Bradshaw."
He hasn't even noticed how close their faces have gotten during the past few sentences until she finally starts laughing and he can feel the air leaving her lungs on the skin of his face. His heart skips a beat as an involuntary, gentle smile spreads across his lips. The next moment the girl leans back and pushes herself away from the counter, moving to another spot where someone else has been patiently waiting to get a drink.
Rooster stays in the exact same position, body leaning in to support himself against the side of the counter and hands lightly pressing into it, only his eyes moving around, following her every movement. She's so gorgeous it hurts.
He would've probably stayed in that position for a lot longer if it wasn't for the bell ringing out. The sudden noise brings him out of his daydream and he blinks before making eye contact with Penny, her eyes suggestive and a playful grin on her lips. A wave of cheering sounds across the bar and the man next to him pats him on the shoulder whilst saying thanks.
It's in that very moment he realises it's him who has to buy everyone a round. It's him who broke one of Penny's rules. Rooster swiftly glances down at the counter to see if he has his phone out but it's not there. He looks back up at the bar owner with confusion written on his face, only to catch her finger pointing in the sign's direction, at a specific part of the rules. His eyes land on the words written there and a moment later he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, probably painting his whole face bright red in the embarrassment he feels.
He got caught staring at the girl like that. And by none other but her mother.
Bradley groans, fishing out his wallet from his pocket, not daring to glance back towards his friends - he can hear them shouting and whooping towards him perfectly without looking and having to face their grinning expressions too. As he pulls out his card and hands it to Penny, his eyes land on (y/n) standing not far behind her mom, her face just as burning red as his feels.
Great. He even embarrassed her, not just himself. He made her feel awkward.
Penny hands him back the card a couple seconds later with a joyous glare and a chuckle, and he turns around just in time to see Phoenix arrive, lending a helping hand in carrying their drinks. "What the hell have you done?" She whisper-screams with a giggle escaping her lips.
"Nothing. I don't know," he shakes his head, trying to get away from the scene of his crime as fast as possible, mentally promising himself never to go around the counter again if he gets even the slightest bit of tipsy.
- - - - -
"Go, I can finish this," Penny gently bumps her shoulder against her daughter's. "I think someone's waiting for you outside."
(y/n) glances at the window besides the front door, seeing the dark silhouette that seems somewhat familiar before turning her eyes towards her mom again. "I think someone's waiting for you," she giggles, suggestively nodding her head towards one of the tables in the corner of the otherwise empty bar, more specifically the man sitting next to it.
"Oh, stop it," the older woman laughs.
"Only if you will stop it too."
"What? I'm just playfully teasing."
"Me too," (y/n) shakes her head still grinning.
Moving out from behind the counter she grabs her bag and sets off towards the door. "Now go and have some fun. But not too much," she adds just as she grabs the handle, quickly stepping out into the warm air of the night with laughter bubbling from her lips, escaping from the loud, nonsense shout her mom sends after her alongside the towel she's been using to clean the counter up until she threw it away.
(y/n)'s still quietly chuckling away as her eyes land on the figure leaning heavily against the wall. "Rooster?"
The young man raises his head from its hanging position and lets his eyes wander up from her feet to her face. "Hi," he breathes out eventually.
"What are you still doing here? I thought you and your friends left more than an hour ago."
"They did."
She frowns, wondering why he might be still waiting here then, and can't help but feel her heartrate fasten, thinking about the possibility that he's been really waiting for her. As her eyes rake over his appearance, taking in the slighty dazed look he's giving her, the way his fingers noiselessly drum some kind of rhythm on his thighs, she concludes that he's probably still quite tipsy - if not drunk - from all the drinks he's consumed that night, no matter how long he's been sitting outside in the fresh, salty air.
"Oh, come on, you big baby, let's get you home," she leans down, grabbing one of his hands and gently tugging it upwards. For a moment he doesn't react, instead still keeps on looking at her, but after a second tug from her he starts moving, pressing his free hand down against the ground and pushing himself up. Standing upright he sways before her fingers wrap around his shoulder, gripping onto his flesh to keep him steady.
"I don't wanna go home yet," he announces.
"But you definitely should."
"No, I wanna take a walk on the beach first. With you. That's why I've been waiting here." Rooster's words come out more clear and confident than before, now definitely making her heart skip a beat.
(y/n) lets out a breath - she's not been planning to spend the rest of her evening with pampering a drunken man. But she has to admit that he looks utterly cute still holding onto her hand tightly, half leaning against the wall behind him, with a couple loose strands of his light brown hair falling in front of his forehead. And he's always been fun to be around. It's not like she can't push the planned curling up on her couch and watching some Netflix show to another day.
"Okay, let's go then," she smiles up at him, nodding towards the oceanside. His eyes light up and he pushes himself off the wall. The girl doesn't even try to pull her hand away - it just feels too good to be held by him to let that go so easily - but he still tightens his grip on her, as if being afraid that she'd tear the connection if he wasn't precautious.
They walk in silence for a while, only the sound of the waves crashing into the shore giving a constant background noise. A soft breeze moves around them, ruffling her hair and slightly pushing his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt off his shoulder. It feels nice and comfortable to just stroll quietly by his side, she thinks. After spending hours in the non-stop, loud noise of the bar, her ears feel blessed to have been allowed to rest a bit.
"I'm sorry," Bradley breaks the silence eventually, making the girl frown and glance at him in confusion. She opens her mouth to ask him what for when he continues. "I'm sorry for embarrassing you earlier."
It still takes a moment for her mind to catch up to what he means, having almost completely forgotten about the bell being rung and Rooster standing there at the counter with flaming red cheeks. A tender giggle escapes her lips as the memory resurfaces.
"You don't have anything to apologise for, you didn't embarrass me," she delicately pats his shoulder with her free hand. "If I remember correctly, it was you who became the red-faced centre of attention."
Rooster lets out a low groan, his fingers flying to the back of his neck to scratch away at the skin there, clearly still feeling awkward about the situation. "Still, I'm sorry."
"You really don't have to, Bradshaw. It was probably just my mom revenging my constant teasing of her and Maverick," (y/n) shrugs, shaking her head at her mother's childishness. "She just wanted to tease you a bit in order to tease me."
It's like the man can't even hear her - he mindlessly rubs the skin of his cheek, eyes staring strictly at the sand beneath his feet as they move along the shore. "I didn't want to be rude or too straightforward. I shouldn't have looked at you like that."
"I'm sure you didn't even look at me like that in the first place." Even the thought alone is ridiculous. Why would he, Rooster, the man himself would look at her like that? God, why had her mother decided to put that sign up? "And you ordering for drinks is far from being too straightforward. You don't know the things I hear all the time. That's what my mom meant with that stupid rule, not what you did."
Rooster stays silent for a couple seconds, seemingly deep in thought before deciding to speak up again. "But that's the thing. I did."
(y/n) feels her brows furrow as she glances at him once more. "You did what?"
"I looked at you like that," he confesses, eyes rising up to watch what can be seen of the rolling waves in the dim light that comes from the Hard Deck.
"Oh." That's all the girl can manage as her mind slowly processes his words. But why would he? He was probably more drunk tonight than she thought he was, if he even for a second looked at her in a way that made her mom ring the bell.
"I feel bad because you're not an object to just stare at or whatever," he keeps on rambling, as if it's something he needs to get off his chest.
"Rooster, you're scaring me," (y/n) giggles. "Where's the cocky pilot I got to know and who's this utter mess next to me?"
"He left a couple hours ago," he mumbles so quietly she almost doesn't hear it, before speaking up louder again. "I truly feel bad."
"Okay, that's enough. If I hear you say that one more time, I'm gonna be the one who feels bad."
Her feet mindlessly kick away at a pile of sand in her way, and she watches as the dry grains of sand go flying in the air, get caught up by the breeze and being blown towards the ocean. "Look, I really don't care about it. Nothing happened so please calm down and stop worrying."
"I can't. I have to make you understand how sorry I am."
God, he's actually still drunk.
"I would never want to disrespect you. Not anyone but especially not you. I swear I will never do it again." His words slur as he keeps on lowly explaining himself, the word sorry appearing every other second and she actually has to bite into the inside of her cheek to keep herself from giggling out loud.
She watches with amusement as he's talking unstoppably, wondering if he even knows what's going on, trying to put a stop to it, interrupting him on several occasions, but it's like his mind is somewhere very far away - too far for her words to truly reach his mind.
With a shake of her head (y/n) abruptly stops, and pulling her hand away from his she turns to face him. Before he can even realise how the circumstances have changed, she's already grabbing both sides of his face with a fond but still somewhat firm movement. She can just see the moment a slight confusion appears in the glint of his eyes as she swiftly leans in and presses her lips to his in a way to finally shut him up.
For a short second it feels like not even this can stop him as his lips keep moving, muffled words sounding from them, but then he suddenly goes completely quiet, and then just one more second later he responds to her kiss.
The romantic books and movies she's read and seen all describe this feeling with mentions of fireworks and butterflies, but somehow it feels completely different than that as he practically melts into her hands. Her senses sharpen like they never did before, and she's sure she's going to combust right here and now.
She can feel crystal clear the exact moment his warm palm touches the small of her back, the heat radiating from his skin going right through the material of her T-shirt and onto her skin, sending a tingle up her spine. The breath leaving through his nose tickles her face and she can feel more than she can hear the soft sigh that leaves his lips as he leans into the kiss even more. Her hands slowly slide lower to rest against his chest just as his fingers tangle themselves into her hair. The light taste of beer transfers from his lips to hers and she revels in the tiny remnants of the alcohol seeping into her system.
When all oxygen leaves her lungs and she can feel them burn in a desperate plead, (y/n) takes a step back, allowing their lips to disconnect. Rooster chases after her lips for a moment, leaning closer still, until her finger presses onto his pursed and swollen lips, stopping his movement. His eyes flutter open and he just stays motionless, staring dazedly into her eyes.
It soon becomes too much to bear, and so she turns her head away, fingers gently wrapping around his wrists to guide them away from her body. Trying to put the buzzing of her mind and all her senses aside she slips a hand into his and turns the two of them around so they can start their walk back to her car.
"Come on, let's get you home to sleep this off, Bradley," she says quietly, a soft smile playing on her lips when she feels his fingers tighten around hers hearing his first name coming from her mouth.
- - - - -
The next day, when (y/n) can hear the sound of the bar's front door being opened and then closed, footsteps approaching the counter as she's placing the clean glasses back to their places, she speaks without looking up. "We don't open for another ten minutes, sorry."
"Don't worry, I'm not here to get a drink," a very familiar raspy, deep voice replies, making her spin around to stare at the man now arriving to the counter.
"Hey," she greets Rooster with a soft smile. Her glance travels all around him - at least the parts of him she can see above the wooden furniture - taking in the pink blush colouring his cheeks, the small and even shy smile playing on his lips.
Does he remember last night at all?
"Uhm, so I wanted to ask you a question, actually," Bradley speaks up, chuckling away after a momentary pause.
"(y/n), dear, can you help me-" Penny's voice rings out as she enters through the kitchen door, but stops abruptly when her eyes land on the pilot leaning against the counter, a knowing smirk slowly taking over her expression. "Oh, I'm sorry, didn't know anyone was in here already. I'll leave you to it," and with that, she moves back from where she's just come from.
(y/n) and Bradley look at each other and burst out laughing at the same time, the sound of their laughter combined helping to ease the previously formed tension. When they finally calm down and everything goes quiet again, (y/n) tilts her head to the side. "So what is it you wanted to ask me?"
"Oh, yeah. Uhm," the man mumbles and she raises an eyebrow, thinking back to the previous night and how similarly he's behaving right now - totally unlike him. "Is there any particular reason you kissed me last night besides wanting to shut me up?"
So he does remember.
Now it's her turn to become all shy and flustered, cheeks turning pink and eyes slightly widening. "Well, that was the main reason, to get you silent finally," she chuckles, but the not finished sentence sensibly hangs in the air still and she knows that he can feel it too, especially when he raises an eyebrow in a suggestive, expectant way.
"But?" Rooster breathes out, leaning just a tiny bit closer above the counter.
(y/n) gulps, closing her eyes for a moment to gather the courage to actually confess. "But I also did it because I wanted to."
"You wanted to?"
God, why wouldn't he let me be and stop my suffering?
"Yeah. For a long time, to be honest," she mumbles under her breath before raising her glance up to his face to his how he'll react.
She does it just in time to see that way too familiar cockiness sparkle up again in his eyes, that well-known, overly confident smirk spreading across his lips. "Yeah?"
The girl nods with a roll of her eyes - she can just feel the tidal wave of teasing coming her way, feeling more than surprised when it doesn't come.
"Good thing you did it then, I'm not sure I would ever have been able to make myself finally do it," Rooster continues, and as she's staring into his hazel eyes, she could swear she sees something else spark in there. Something that's tender and breathtaking and lovely and almost like adoration.
"You wanted to?" (y/n) can't help but repeat his previous question back to him.
"I still want to," he replies and it's like her heart is actually bursting out of her chest, beating so fast and loud she's sure even her mother can hear it. "If you'll let me," Bradley finishes, his voice taming down into a gentle mumble.
He leans even closer to her above the counter slowly, painfully slowly, and she can almost feel herself just give in and lean in as well, when her mind's still working part comes up with a rational thought and she swiftly pushes herself further from the counter.
She can see the confusion spreading across his face and she can almost hear the thoughts running wild in his head as he's probably wondering what he's done wrong, but before he can ask her, she's already on her way to move out into the open space of the bar. Her feet almost make her stumble in her slightly impatient hurry since she's not taking her eyes off his, not for even the shortest second to look at where she's going.
Dodging a few stools and her fingers finding support on the wooden surface as she drags them along the top of the counter she watches as his head is slowly turning, in sync with her own movements as if he himself wouldn't want to break the eye contact either.
By the time she comes to a halt in front of him, slipping into the space between the counter and him he generated whilst watching her move, he's seemingly caught up to what she had in mind, his lips curling back into the grin once more. "I'll let you, Bradley Bradshaw," she breathes out, noticing his eyes dart down to her lips and back up to her (y/e/c) orbs again.
Slowly, as if they had all the time in the world to themselves, he places both hands on the edge of the counter, trapping the girl there, standing right in-between his arms, mere centimetres away from his body. Then, with the same patience he lowers his head, gently letting his forehead rest against hers. He can feel the stutter of her breath against his skin as she practically shakes with anticipation, making the knowing smirk appear on his face just as he dives in to claim her lips his own.
The clatter of silverware sounding from the kitchen breaks the two of them away a minute or so later, and as (y/n) glances towards the kitchen door, wondering if her mother intentionally made the noise only to further tease them, Bradley untangles his hands from their previous positions on the side of her neck and her left cheek, both of them breathing deeply, chests touching with each inhale.
"Do I interpret the signs correctly and this means that you would say yes if I hypothetically asked you out on a date?" Rooster raises his hand once more, pushing a stray curl of her hair that has fallen in front of her face behind her ear.
"Only hypothetically speaking, yes," the girl replies, a wide grin practically cutting her face into two.
The next moment they share a chuckle, giddy from their previous actions and the weight of their confessions.
"Okay," Bradley leans in to press a soft kiss against her forehead. "Would you go on a date with me then?"
"Wasn't it only hypothetical?" (y/n) can't help but grin up at him.
"It isn't anymore."
She simply nods, letting her eyes do the talking as she stares deep into his gorgeous, sparkling hazel orbs. Rising up to stand on her toes she responds to his peck with a similarly delicate one, just on his cheek, on the spot of impossibly soft skin right under his eyes instead of his forehead.
"Good," he breathes out, eyes fluttering closed from the tenderness. "When does your shift end tonight?"
(y/n)'s just about to answer him when the kitchen door opens once more. "Okay, kiddos, I gave you a couple minutes, now I gotta open this place, so time's up," Penny walks out with a grin on her face, not even looking the tiniest bit of surprised by seeing her daughter and the pilot standing so close to each other, basically in each other's embrace.
Did she know about both our feelings? That's why she rang the bell too?, (y/n) can't help but think.
"Hey, Pen, can I somehow bribe you into letting your daughter finish her shift a bit earlier tonight?" Rooster grins at the bar owner, taking a small step back to let the girl escape from the trap his body created.
Penny rolls her eyes, shaking her head in pretended disbelief. "What are you up to, Lieutenant?"
"I want to take her out on a date, ma'am," he playfully salutes her, responding to her formality without a second thought.
The woman glances to the side, joyously noticing the utter happiness radiating from her daughter, before turning her gaze back to the young man at her side, nodding her approval. "Only this once, and just because I've been watching you pine for each other for too long already," she chuckles and moves to stand behind the counter, placing the towel that's been resting on her shoulder down to give the wooden surface one last wipe.
Rooster turns to (y/n) only to find her standing there with her cheeks flushed pink, looking oh so perfect - and he has to stop for a short second just to take the sight in and wonder if it's from the embarrassment because of her mother or from the kiss they just shared.
They discuss the details of their date under their breath in order to stop her mom being able to hear them perfectly, then he leans in and presses a short and innocent kiss to her temple before turning away and making his way out of the bar, disappearing behind the doorframe - but not before glancing back one last time to shine a wide, excited smile (y/n)'s way.
.::the end::.
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meraki-yao · 3 months
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Is this a safe place? I sort of want to get something off my chest, but I have to do it anon because I’m scared. I’m a straight girl and a huge rwrb fan, and thus also a big fan of TZP and Nick. Lately I’m feeling more and more alienated in most of the fandom and I’m afraid I’m the problem? It’s just all this talk about topping and bottoming and what that means for how the characters are perceived that I absolutely do not get? Is it empowering in some way I’m not getting, because if not the feminist in me is sort of appalled.
It’s more or less the idea that bottoming is a little humiliating in a way that needs to be made jokes about that is bothering me. Like the bottom is always a little pathetic or desperate (like how women have historically been portrayed), and we should snicker when the top (or anyone) publicly «calls them out» for bottoming? Obviously not everyone does this but I see it more and more? And when it was just in fics and art I kept my mouth shut because I think that should be a free space, but now I see it in how the actors are talked about too. Like Alex is the top so TZP is made out to be hypermasculine and Henry was the bottom so Nick is either babied or made fun of? It’s bad for both imo. Why can’t tzp be babygirl sometimes and the focus be on his soft sides? All I see is talk about his body and how everyone wants him to top them. And then there’s Nick and how people are saying they are uncomfortable watching him act as a top in M&G, saying he will always be a bottom and that he is a slut etc. If it was an actress or female characters getting that treatment I would riot. And I guess I am a bit now in my cowardly anon way. Am I alone in feeling frustrated about this? Is it bad that I am? Please help me understand if I’m in the wrong.
Thank you for reaching out to me. As long as you’re respectful and not hurtful, you’re welcome here.
Actually, I’ve kind of wanted to write an essay on gay sex and the perception of gender in same-sex couples for a while now! So this might sound kind of academic, bear with me.
Preface: I identify as a straight cis girl, but I’ve been consuming both western and Asian queer media, both fiction and real person for years. This is my understanding of the matter, and I’m trying to be as sensitive and empathetic as I can be, but please note at the end of the day, I am not directly part of the queer community, therefore there may be certain things I miss, or a queer person will tell you otherwise. Also literally all my knowledge of sex comes from the internet, because Chinese culture literally does not talk about this at all. I gave my sister the talk instead of our parents. So please take what I say with a pinch of salt.
Also gonna talk about sex in an academic manner, but it’s still sex, so here’s your nsfw warning!
Ok here we go:
The power dynamic in sex position is fundamentally biological: the penetrator controls the pace and intensity of the act, thus is the active participant; the penetrated is in turn the passive. This is just the mechanics of the act: The penetrated, be it the woman in a straight couple or the bottom in a gay couple is put in the more vulnerable position, therefore the top, as the active participant is perceive as having more power, while the bottom as the passive participant is perceived as having less power.
And there are historical records of this perception: in ancient Greece, there was a common romantic dynamic called pederasty, a romantic and sexual relationship between an older man (the erastes/ to love) who acts as the active, dominant participant, aka the top, and a younger boy/ a teenager (the eromenos/ beloved) who acts as the passive, submissive participant, aka the bottom. It is speculated that this is the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus. This practice was understood as educative, as a means for the older man to teach the younger “how to be more manly as to grow up into a man”. THAT BEING SAID BY TODAY’S STANDARDS THIS IS PEDOPHILA AND DEFINITELY NOT OKAY. On top of that, the perception of being gay in ancient Rome is “it’s okay if you’re gay, as long as you’re the top”. My point is this power imbalance when it comes to same-sex relationships has existed for a very, very long time.
But the thing is a lot of things have advanced in the past centuries, and the perception of sex and gender is one of them.
So firstly in terms of sex, people are much more flexible in terms of the power dynamics, which is where terms like “switch” (can be either top or bottom), “power bottom” (the penetrated controls the pace and intensity of the act) , “service top” (the penetrator focused on their partner’s needs and wishes instead of their own) and the whole BDSM category (which I’m personally not informed about or interested in). So I would say we’re mostly past the point of humiliating bottoms or perceiving bottoms as inherently weak, and use bottom more in terms of the mechanics.
That being said, the power being more balanced does not immediately take away the gender perception of the dynamic.
Since when comparing a gay couple’s sex act with a straight couple’s sex act, the woman has to be in a penetrated position as per biology and anatomy (at least traditionally speaking), the association drawn between the bottom and the woman becomes easy to make. In fact in China, all bottoms, regardless of gender/sexuality, are referred to with female terms, like “wife”, “princess”, “queen” etc. So bottoms tend to be feminized, or at least viewed as more effeminate. Again, this has changed and made more flexible/free in modern times, but this trend is still present.
But when it comes to applying the terms on the boys, something involved is also the audience’s own perception and understanding of gender representation. “Babygirl” is more referring to the “cute” kind of attractiveness than actually babying him, which with given material, tends to apply more to the perception and presentation of Nick than Taylor. That being said I have seen Taylor/Alex being referred to babygirl as well. It’s a little rare but it’s present. I wouldn’t really say Taylor’s hypermasculine either, but in relatively, his style and manners lean more towards the masculine side of the spectrum. But again it’s a matter of perception. Are the gendered terms used on the boys affected by the dynamic of their characters? To some degree, yes. But it’s also sometimes a genuine commentary on their own style as themselves.
As for Geroge, I personally haven’t seen those comments, but the problem with the comments lies in associating George with Nick as an individual and Henry as an individual: as in, they’re not treating George as George, they’re treating George as Nick, which might be why they have such comments. That being said, this is a piece of media, so each to their own.
I think the last thing I’m gonna say to end this is that please remember that this is all subjective perception. If you see something different, then that’s just what you see. Try seeing someone else’s perspective, and if you tried and it didn’t work, then let it be. You’re not in the wrong, it’s ok that you’re frustrated, but at least I don’t think the situation is as harmful as you might see it to be. These types of comments often are throwaway thoughts, so there’s also the question on how serious a comment is.
Hope this helped! Feel free to shoot me another ask if you still have questions.
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nobodysdaydreams · 1 month
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@mahpotatoequeen thank you for tagging me!
How many works do you have on AO3? only 11, but I make up for it in word count.
What’s your total AO3 word count? 468,908 words (sorry)
How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they? Only three fandoms. TMBS (show and books, idk if these count as separate) and wolf 359.
Top five fics by kudos:
So...I'm in some pretty small fandoms and only started writing last year so I don't have a lot of high kudos fics. But this is what I got so far:
S.O.S
The Oldest Siblings
Who You Were Meant To Be / Treat Them With(out) Mercy (tied)
It Should Have Been Us
A Joy To Obey
Honorable mention: The highest Wolf 359 fic I have since I only started writing for that fandom like a week ago (it's a nice fic about Renee and Dominik for anyone interested): For Better or For Worse
Do you respond to comments?
Of course! I love hearing from you guys and discuss my work, fandom theories and ideas.
What’s the fic with the angstiest ending you’ve ever written?
My tmbs followers know the answer to that question. Sorry S.O.S. fans (but also: not sorry at all).
Edit: Also, how did I forget, but my tmbs fic The Boys Who Waited, has a super angsty ending. It's one of my lesser known fics, but I do really like how it comes full circle in the end and you don't realize the implications of what's happening until the fic is over.
As for my Wolf 359 fics, I'd say the one with the angstiest ending is my most recent fic about Jacobi dealing with the loss of Kepler. The fic received positive critical review from the esteemed @sophieswundergarten, but the last chapter does end on a slightly ominous note/cliff hanger. Here it is if you want to check it out: The Legacy of the Artist Formerly Known As Warren Kepler (or An Ode to Whiskey Boy)
Do you write crossovers?
Not really. Some of my fics blend the show and book elements of tmbs, or reference the other, but not to the point of what I'd call a "cross over"
Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?
Not on my fics. I think a few times on my blog, but I don't have time to think about or deal with that. I'm also neurodivergent, so sometimes I have trouble knowing whether people are actually insulting me or doing or saying something "as part of a joke". I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt.
Do you write smut?
Nope, it's not for me.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I hope not, and I don't think so. I write for really small fandoms. It would be pretty obvious if someone did.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, but @sophieswundergarten recently made a podfic of the first chapter of my fic Who You Were Meant To Be and that made my whole day! 🥰 The link to the podfic is in the chapter notes if you want to listen.
What’s your all-time favorite ship?
I don't do a lot of shipping. I wrote a few things about Renee Minkowski/Dominik Koudelka, but they're married in canon so a lot of that wrote itself. (Works are here if you're interested: For Better or For Worse / The Return of the Blessed)
What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?
All of my SOS sequels. I'm going to try though. We'll see what happens.
What are your writing strengths?
Long fic. I can take an idea and run with it. I'm also good a picking up where I series left things off or when a show gets cancelled and leaves a cliff hanger.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Short fic. I wrote around 7k-8k words for a Wolf 359 fic and someone commented how happy they were that they "finally got a long fic about this". And I was flattered, but like. 7-8k words???? LONG????
...who's gonna tell them?
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?
I've only done this a few times. I try my best and do as much research as I can. I want it to be accurate though, so if you're a native speaker, and I got something wrong, feel free to (politely) lmk so I can fix it.
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?
For the tmbs fandom S.O.S. since it's what I'm known for, but also Who You Were Meant To Be because I love a good redemption story and I've gonna a lot of really nice feedback on it.
For the Wolf359 fandom, weirdly enough, The Return of the Blessed, which is based on my own unhinged crack theory, but I love writing it.
Tagging: @itsgoghtime @oflightningandstars @myfairkatiecat @mysteriouseggsbenedict @heyitsthatonesmolgay and anyone else who wants to participate!
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amethystfairy1 · 4 months
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hello internet stranger,
i am in love. you've infected both me and my sister with your brainrot and captivating fics, we've talked about it non-stop the past few days, so naturally we have some questions.
But first, i want to ask what your boundaries are w/ fanart and writing. i've already drawn a couple pieces, are you alright with me posting them, and what should i tag them with? Also, i'm feeling very inspired to write more zed and tango for the travelling thieves au, is that alright if i take your ideas and just yoink them? Im not planning to post whatever i write at this point :P
anyways, moving on, i have a few world-building questions for you, starting w/ traveling thieves:
how does the mercenary guild and hits system work? Can anyone put a hit out on anyone, or do they have to be a wanted criminal? also, how does gem choose her targets? i like to believe she has some sort of moral compass in picking, but knowing the world they live in, i can't be certain
this is less of a question, but i don't see how the world can be resolved. For ttsbc, the obvious solution to the undercity folk living freely is that they overthrow the overcity government or just remove the laws keeping them banned. Sure, it'd be difficult, but from what we've seen, most people don't actually have strong prejudices against the undercity, they just vaguely believe they're evil, which can be very easily disproved. For traveling thieves, it's completely different, because not only is the discrimination in the government, it's in the people themselves; merely changing the laws would not change how people see hybrids, so how can that be fixed? My best solution to them all getting a happy ending is that they run away and found their own civilization where all hybrids can be free, but it doesnt seem like a likely scenario
again, not really a question, but I'm so so so happy in the latest fh piece that they looted the bodies of their attackers. the first time i read it through, i was practically screaming at the screen, telling them to grab the loot and weapons before they continued
next, ttsbc:
4. how do the mobs work? do they act like any normal animal, in that they just kinda exist and happen to be very hostile, or do they follow minecraft mob mechanics and spawn into existence from nothing when the conditions are right? could they theoretically all be exterminated? do all of them dislike light, like the zombies in the cleo bdubs fic? if they do, why are they making their way to the overcity?
5. how did the undercity become a thing? Was it just always there, or was it manmade? did hybrids and mutants always live underground? are the pits really bottomless? and if so, is the world a globe, or is it flat? i understand you might not have thought very deeply about these things before jumping in, but my sister and i were theorizing about different answers. i figured the undercity isnt manmade just like the grand canyon isnt manmade, it just came about through natural processes, and mutants and hybrids just evolved(?) seperately from humans, underground, which is a whole other can of worms with the science behind that. an idea about the "bottomless" pits has to do with physics. at the center of the earth (if it were hollow), you wouldn't feel gravity because it would pull on you equally in all directions. so maybe the bottomless pit really just leads to the center of the earth, and you're not really falling forever, you're just suspended in the center forever lol. not falling, but not hitting the bottom, either
anyways, this was a really long ask (i hope thats ok), and i still have more to say, but i'll leave it there for now. again, i love the angst, and have a wonderful day. im gonna try to get some work done, but it probs wont happen with all the brainrot XD
Hello hello! ✨
I'm so honored that you and your sister are enjoying my AUs and fics so much! That you've been talking about them and theorizing over them is so awesome to hear! Knowing that they've become something fueling discussion is super cool!
I LOVE IT ALL! Fanart/fanworks/fanfic I wanna see all of it! I would absolutely love it if you would post your fanart! Please use either the (#traveling thieves au) or (#through the sky blue cracks) depending on which AU it is for and mention me in the post (@amethystfairy1) so I can see it! And of course you are welcome to write fics based in my AU or using my characterizations, in fact I'd love it if you did! It's the best thing to hear that my writing has inspired someone else to get creative! I know you said you had no intentions of posting it, but if you ever do, please use the same hashtags here if on tumblr, or if you use A03 list the appropriate fic/series as inspiration and please credit me in the notes if you don't mind! I'm looking forward to seeing anything either fanart/fanfic related that you've created!
ONTO THE QUESTIONS 🏃‍♀️
The mercenary guild is basically like the underground/illegal version of the adventurer guild, and they'll take any jobs that the adventurer guild won't. Blackmail, assassination, smuggling, you name it. Gem has something of a moral compass, but it isn't exactly the strictest thing in the world. We learn when she meets Mumbo in Grian's wing preening fic that she is on her way to assassinate a noblemans son, and while that is a bit of a wink wink nudge nudge if you can figure out who that son is, exactly, it's still Gem agreeing to kill a teenager who is guilty of little more than pissing off the wrong person. Cruel world and all.
Perhaps that's exactly point? 😌 With Traveling Thieves, I did not set out to make a world that could be resolved or escaped from...the whole point is that it is cruel and inescapable, and the best you can do is continue to protect yourself and those you care about...and even then, you might fail to do that. You might be set up to fail in a sick system that would never give you a chance in the first place. And the best you can do is try to put the pieces back together in the aftermath. I don't want Traveling Thieves to resolve in any traditional sense of the word...for where that'll lead all our various characters, well, you'll have to wait and see. 🤔
Loot that body LOOT THAT BODY NOW 💃
They're like your typical minecraft mobs, they spawn in places with low light levels! We've also got some homebrew monsters that I've come up with, such as the bird-men, that we will be meeting as time goes on. Certain monsters such as zombies do avoid light, but there are plenty of monsters will go above bedrock just like certain monsters in minecraft can survive in the sun, like creepers and endermen. No, they can never be exterminated because of how they spawn!
The pits aren't bottomless, we've seen the bottom after all, where Pearl, Jimmy, and Grian were in the Depths! It is a natural chasm beneath the bedrock, and the various caves and tunnels stretch are incredibly huge and diverse, so while everything connects back to the main cavern of the under-city that's so huge, there are also other caves and tunnels where other groups live that we will be learning about eventually, such as the blaze-born pyres or where Cub is from in the Deep Dark!
It is completely totally 100% ok! I love getting long asks like this that give me the chance to develop and worldbuild the AUs and mention some details that might never really show up within the fics themselves! So by all means send more questions and thoughts! And I'd also love to see the fanarts you mentioned if you still are up to posting them, I can't draw so anything anyone draws that has anything to do with my AUs makes me incredibly happy! 😆
Thanks so much for coming by! 💖
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just-sarah--things · 8 months
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Alex and Henry fic prompt:
Henry references having shagged other famous boys. Once he’s been publicly outed the press and fan accounts become pretty convinced he was once secretively involved with a pop star and some of his most famous songs about love, heartbreak and sex were inspired by Henry. Alex gets self conscious listening to the old songs that are more explicit about what people assume is Henry’s body and sex life thinking that this pop star was a better lover than Alex himself because Henry is the only man he’s really been with. Alex says Henry is the best sex he’s ever had but isn’t sure if the same is true for Henry with him
Here we go... I tried my best and I Hope you Enjoy. Feel free to send Feed back, more requests, reblogs, likes, and shares. Sweet Creature
“Once unsuccessfully” These words have been floating around Alex’s head since the moment Henry had said them, and now Alex was finally ready to find out who.
“Hen, just tell me already.” Alex begs “Does it really matter Alex?” “No” he huffs “But I am curious” Alex looks at Henry with a big grin. This gets Henry to look up from his book, “Alex all that matters is that I love you and you are my life now.” “What if I guess.” Alex proposes Henry rolls his eyes and returns to his book “Sam Smith” “Robbie Williams” “Tom Daley” “James Blunt” “Lewis Gibson” Henry keeps his eyes focused on his book but continues to shake his head no that is until “Harry Styles” Henry Looks up and is frozen in place, he can’t believe that Alex actually started guessing and guessing correctly nonetheless. “No Fucking way” Alex mutters “It doesn't really matter Alex.” Henry States returning to his book. They spend the rest of the night lazing around the brownstone. Henry reading away and Alex trying to study but his mind can only focus on one thing. His Henry with Harry Styles. The next morning Alex wakes up earlier than Henry and decides he needs a run to clear his head. He mindlessly scrolls through Spotify to listen to during his run. His thumb lingers over the “This is Harry Styles” Playlist he hits shuffle and starts his run. He listens to the first couple songs without really thinking about it, that is until the song Golden starts playing . And when the lyric “I know that you're scared because hearts get broken”  blares through his airpods. He knows this is about his Henry, or should he say Harry’s Henry. Alex shakes this thought and continues to run. Before he knows it he is listening to the lyrics again and hears the song Kiwi and can’t help but think about Henry and the lyric “and all the boys saying they were into such a pretty face on a pretty neck… hard candy dripping on me till my feet are wet, and now he’s all over me…” and the next song that plays only makes Alex more self conscious about his performances in bed. Only Angel is now playing and he can only Imagine Mr. Styles writing the lyric “That he's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see
When it turns out he's a devil in between the sheets And there's nothing he can do about it.” Alex has had it with this Harry Styles Bullshit. He is running as fast as  he can back to the brownstone. Just as he is coming up the walkway to the house one last song catches his attention. Falling now floats softly through his ears as he takes a seat on the front stoop. The opening lyric stops him dead in his tracks. “I'm in my bed, And you're not here, And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hands.” And in that instant Alex realizes that Mr. Styles cheated on Henry, Sweet Perfect Loving Henry, his Henry. And while some of his insecurities slip away because he knows he will never want anyone but Henry and if he did change his mind he would never in a million years think about cheating on him. When Alex walks in he sees Henry is up, already reading his book and sipping on some tea. Alex gives him a kiss on the head and mutters something about running to clear his head and that he needs to shower. Henry decides not to ask to join him and just nods in agreement knowing he will be back soon. Soon turns into ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty, forty five and at the Hour mark Henry goes to investigate. When he walks in the bedroom he sees Alex blankly staring at the ceiling and dried tears on his cheeks, and he knows something is bothering Alex but he isn't sure how to breach the subject. At first he leans in the doorway fiddling with his ring just waiting to see if Alex will notice his presence. When he doesn't Henry clears his voice and Alex is startled to see him there. Alex is Confused all over again. How can someone as wonderful as Henry go from being with (dating? he wonders) Harry Styles to just Alex plain old Alex. 
“Hi” Henry finally mutters, breaking the silence between each of them. 
“I think we need to talk,” Henry says. Alex just nods because what can he say. How can he compete with him?“I have a feeling I know what's on your mind but, can you please let me in that beautiful head of yours?” “How are you even satisfied with me? I hardly knew who I was when our relationship started let alone know what I was doing in our bedroom. How can I compete with someone who called you a devil in the sheets. How do you want plain old Alex when you can have a world famous pop sensation or anyone for that matter.” “Oh Alex, You are not just some plain old Alex. You are Alex Clairmont-Diaz, a mouthful, but you are mine and I wouldn’t change a thing.” “But-” Alex starts “No buts, I am flattered you think those songs are about me, and maybe they are but I only know for a fact that one of them is.” “Is it-” “I walked in on him, he was with someone else.” Henry finishes “Baby, I am so sorry.” “That’s what makes you more than just Alex, you have honesty, honor, and integrity. And to me that means more than what any super star can provide. Plus you are the best I’ve ever been with.” “How so?” Alex questions “It's different when you are with someone you love and someone that loves you back.”
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aheavenlycreature · 7 months
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So, I’ve had this idea for a fic for a very long time. Maybe one day I’ll actually have the discipline to sit down and attempt to finally write the damn thing, but I still wanna share it and get it out there in some capacity. Hell, if any of you reading this want to steal it and write this for yourselves or get inspired by this in some way, please feel free to!!!
Anyways— we always see Dean react to Cas’ death but Cas never sees the aftermath/fall out from it because well duh– he’s dead but the deaths are also very quick like the stabbings from angels or the Empty swallowing him whole pretty quickly after the love confession. Even when Castiel was stabbed with the spear, even though it was a little slower– it was evident that it wasn’t by much.
But, what if Castiel was suffering from a poison that would take days to kill him. Maybe even weeks?
I had this idea where it’s set in season 13 with the apocalypse hunters because that was the best way I could come up with for why this sort’ve poison even exists in the first place but like I said, if you wanna steal it this idea you come up with whatever origin for the poison you want.
But the gist is the poison was specifically designed to kill angels in the most brutal way possible by turning their own grace into something deadly and essentially becomes the poison. The worst part– once the grace has been corrupted like this it cannot be extracted from the angel.
So their grace is killing them slowly and burning them from the inside out and feels like torture the entire time because it’s basically like if your blood was replaced with acid. You can’t do anything about it other than to wait to die.
And Cas starts suffering from this– likely from an enemy who hates him or just hates angels in general and sees them all as threats to humanity. Point is, Cas’ grace gets corrupted from this and Dean has to witness Castiel slowly die in front of him.
This has never happened before. Cas has never been sick to begin with, let alone this kind of sick where they know it’s gonna end in death. Dean’s freaking out and trying to figure out a way to save him.
(In my head, there is an elixir Rowena cooks up to save Castiel but they have no clue on whether it’ll work or not and worst of all– it feels like acid for Castiel to drink and there’s a lot of it. Too much of it. Like an entire gallon or MORE for Cas to drink like this and Dean pretty much has to force him to get it down because he doesn’t want Cas to die and if there’s a chance this thing will work, he’ll try. But he hates seeing Castiel in even more pain from taking this medicine.)
Anyways, it’s hopeless and Cas is getting worse and worse. Eventually Castiel knows his time is coming to an end and things are only gonna get uglier for him. He says his goodbyes to Jack, not wanting Jack to see him get worse. He says goodbye to Sam.
And Dean stays by his side, even laying down in bed with him despite the sweat and odor. He doesn’t care because this is Cas and he’s not leaving his side until the very end.
With Cas dying as slow as he is, he confesses his love for Dean and he doesn’t want Dean to say anything about it. Because however Dean answers, anything Dean could say in response to that, won’t make him very happy.
And based on how Dean’s been acting throughout Castiel’s sickness, the way he’s never seen Dean act about anyone– Cas thinks maybe, just maybe Dean does feel the same way back and that’s terrible. Because the idea of Dean loving Castiel back when he is on death’s door, will not make Cas happy.
But he still confesses because all he wants is for Dean to know he’s loved and deserves all the things he thinks he doesn’t.
Cas dies.
Dean sobs.
Dean doesn’t leave Cas’ side, still holding him like he did when he was alive. It’s horrible. Feeling Cas’ skin go from searing hot to cold. It’s the worst thing he’s ever experienced, feeling the life leaving Cas’ body. All evidence he was breathing only minutes ago. Hours ago…
Cas comes back to life somehow. But now with the knowledge of how much Dean cares, how much he really cares for him and that’s something he doesn’t want to ignore.
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