#that shit went h a r d | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loudstan · 1 year

Text

Too Young

(Sequel to Presenting)

Summary: You thought avoiding Jisung after what happened during his first rut would make the problem go away (SPOILER ALERT: it didn't.)

Pairing: Werewolf! Jisung x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: smut, some angst, reader is slightly older and ridiculously stubborn, me simping for best friend! Jaehyun

That was probably the fifth time Jisung tried to call you today. And you still didn’t have the guts to pick up, glaring at your phone on the desk until the call was lost and the screen went off. You sighed in relief, but it didn’t last long; a soft buzz and a notification popping up catching your attention.

Jaehyun: Heey…

Not a minute later another message came.

Jaehyun: What r u doin this weekend?

You opened the message absentmindedly and replied.

‘I’m busy’

Jaehyun: oh ok

Jaehyun: no big deal

You should have finished the conversation there instead of asking…

‘why what’s up?

Jaehyun: nah its okay if youre busy

And now you felt like shit. Jaehyun had been an amazing friend to you for years and you had just lied to him because you were too embarrassed to face him and the rest of his pack after what had happened with Jisung.

‘No, Jae´

‘What do you need?’

´Tell me´

You bit your lip and waited but his answer never came, and being a huge overthinker, you found yourself dialing his number. He picked up after a few seconds.

“Hello?” You hadn’t heard his voice in a while. It caught you by surprise.

“H-hey!” you croaked, your own voice hoarse due to the lack of use. When was the last time you had actually talked out loud?

“Hey, you!” you could hear his smile even if you couldn’t see it, and it was contagious. “How have you been? It’s been a while…”

“I’m good,” you lied. “Just busy…and you?”

“I’m alright…” he said but he didn’t sound too great. There was a hint of tiredness in his voice, and maybe worry? You knew each other so well you just knew he wasn’t okay.

“Jae… what’s going on?” you asked.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” he breathed out. “What’s going on?”

“...What do you mean?” you murmured, but you had an idea of where this was going.

“Well, you stopped showing up for movie nights like a month ago,” he started what felt like would be a long list of complaints. “Then Jisung disappeared for a couple of days, which he apparently spent with you, and when he came back he was a fully presented alpha-”

“Fuck…,” you sighed, because this was going exactly where you thought it would.

“And he looked so happy,” Jaehyun continued. You heard a can being opened and him gulping down a couple of sips of whatever liquid was inside that can. “Calm and collected, like he had suddenly figured out his entire life. He even smirked at me like he was mocking me, so I assumed… I thought that you two- you know…”

“I’m sorry, Jae…,” you finally said.

“Why?” he asked after a few seconds waiting for you to continue. “Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t-fuck,” you sighed, frustrated. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You heard Jaehyun take a few more sips of his drink on the other side of the line.

“...So, you two-?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “We spent his first rut together. I’m sorry.”

“Again, why are you sorry?!” he raised his voice only slightly, and then as if he could see you flinching, he lowered his tone again in a calming manner. “What’s there to be sorry for?”

When you didn’t reply for what could have been an entire minute, he spoke again. “Let me see you. We can talk properly then.”

“Jae-”

“Y/N, please?” he pleaded. “I haven’t seen you in so long- I miss my best friend…”

“I miss you too…” you said.

“Then let’s hang out. Just the two of us, if you don’t feel comfortable meeting the others yet.” he offered.

You smiled. That seemed reasonable.

“We can do that,” you accepted. “You wanna come over?”

“Mmm… I’ll tell you what,” he countered cheekily. “Since you always complain about me making a mess and not helping you clean up when I show up, let’s get an airbnb for the weekend.”

“Jae.”

“Y/N.”

“That’s such a waste of money,” you deadpanned. “Just come over and help me clean. It won’t kill you to pick up a broom once in a while.”

“Can’t hear you, I’m booking an apartment,” he declared.

“Jaehyun!”

“Booked!”

You gasped and then groaned. “What the fuck, Jaehyun?”

“Stop whining and have a movie weekend with me. You owe me for leaving me abandoned in this cruel house full of men,” he reproached. “I’m bored, and I miss you, so I’ll see you at 8PM.”

And he hung up just like that. Leaving you wide eyed and with less than an hour to get ready and go to the address he sent you. Quickly, you took a shower, without even bothering to dry your hair and wore the most comfortable pair of shorts and hoodie you found, grabbing some extra clothes and putting them in your backpack before getting going. The airbnb wasn’t too far from your place, and you mentally thanked Jaehyun for being considerate, but all gratitude was gone when he opened the place and greeted you impolitely.

“You look like shit,” typical Jaehyun.

“Fuck off,” you said, walking past him to get in the cozy apartment he had unnecessarily rented. You probably did look like shit, to be fair; dark circles under your eyes, your skin looking dull and your wet hair sticking to your forehead and neck, you probably weren’t looking your best. But he didn’t have to say it like that.

You had barely stepped into the living room when you felt Jaehyun’s arms wrapping around you from behind, catching you off guard.

“I’m so sorry,” he said before you had the chance to ask why the sudden hug.

“It’s fine, I’m not mad. I know I look like shi-”

“No, not because of that,” he interrupted you and you heard him sigh behind you. “I was the one who told you Jisung had imprinted on you.”

“Jae, what-” you tried to turn around but he hugged you tighter, so you stayed still. You knew how awkward he was when it came to apologizing, so he probably wanted to avoid eye contact until he was done speaking.

“Because of what I said you felt pressured into spending his rut with him,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s my fault that things got awkward-”

“Jaehyun, no,” you stopped before he could spill any more nonsense and grabbed his hands firmly but gently, motioning for him to let go of you before you turned around. “This is not your fault.”

“You’re my best friend,” he said, lowering his eyes in guilt. “And I misread the signs. I thought you had feelings for him-”

“You were right,” you admitted, gently lifting his face. “I feel something for Jisung.”

Jaehyun blinked a few times, then his brows furrowed as he tried to process what you had just said.“Then why are you avoiding him?!”

“It’s…,” you sighed and turned away, walking towards the kitchen. “It’s a lot to take in…”

“...Go on,” he encouraged you as he helped you reach some plates from the upper cabinet and placed them on the counter.

You sighed. “Why don’t we eat first?”

“I’m not hungry,” he argued, but he didn’t sound convincing. He was always hungry, so you just raised a brow and stared at him until he gave in. “Fine, I’m a little bit hungry, but we still have to talk after we eat.Should we order something?”

“What are you in the mood for?” you giggled.

“Uh… pizza? Chicken?” he asked, seemingly deep in thought. “Both?”

You laughed out loud and nodded. “Both it is,” you agreed. “No need to order, though.”

“Wha-?” he looked away from his phone where he was already opening the delivery app and his attention was directed towards a dim light surrounding your hands. In a matter of seconds, the plates in front of you were filled with a variety of delicious-looking food that had Jaehyun stuttering incredulously. “No way! When d-did you…? Wow! I thought you could only materialize liquids!”

“I’ve been practicing,” you said coyly.

Jaehyun immediately grabbed a slice of pizza and shoved it into his mouth,closing his eyes and moaning dramatically. “Marry me, Y/N, I swear-” his offering got interrupted when he choked on the food he was so excited to eat, coughing while you patted his back,

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jaehyun!” you nagged him playfully as he finally calmed down. “You still have to meet your mate, so stop asking random people to marry you.”

“I don’t just ask random people!” he defended himself, before eating another piece of pizza like he wasn’t choking seconds ago. He just didn’t learn. Zero survival instinct. “I asked you! I trust you! You literally made food appear like Jesus-”

“Jesus multiplied food, he didn’t just materialize it,” you were laughing hysterically now.

“You’re even better than Jesus then!” he continued, glad he was making you laugh after so long without seeing each other.

“I’m not gonna marry you, Jaehyun,” you finally said when you were able to control your laugh. “I’m Jisung’s-,” you gasped and quickly covered your mouth when you processed what you had just said.

Jaehyun smiled knowingly. “I can see that,” he said pointing at the mark that your hoodie failed to hide. “Seems like it’s official.”

You blushed and let out a frustrated sigh. “I really fucked up.”

“I still don’t get it, Y/N. You two like each other-more than just like, actually- so why are you acting like this?” he asked you softly.

“I feel-...I feel like I t-took advantage of him, Jaehyun,” you said, staring at the food that was getting cold. “It was his first rut. He couldn’t control himself.”

Jaehyun snorted and you glared at him, wanting to know what was so funny.

“Look, Y/N… with or without rut, I’m sure he loved fucking you- Hold on! Put that down! Hear me out!” he yelped when you grabbed an empty plate and aimed at him threateningly, your expression unamused at his crude choice of words. “Y/N, he’s wanted you since I first introduced you to the others years ago. I know it. All of us know it.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked slowly, putting the plate down.

“Well, I-... I have seen things.” he said.

“What type of things?

“Remember that shirt you left behind the first time you stayed at my place for the night? The pink one with a small heart on it? I was gonna wash it and give it back to you.”

“I liked that shirt…” you mumbled, slowly picturing the mental image of the forgotten shirt. “But you said you couldn’t find it, that it wasn’t at your place.”

“I lied,” he admitted. Normally he would avoid eye contact in situations like these, but now he was staring right into your eyes, like he wanted- needed- you to listen to him carefully, to understand, to take his words seriously. “Jisung has it.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

“After you left, I asked the pack if they had seen the shirt and I described it in detail, but everyone said they hadn’t seen it. Jisung’s face was red as a tomato, staring at the floor and squirming in his seat..I didn’t think much of it at first, but when I found the shirt under his pillow weeks later…” Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle and shook his head at what he thought was a funny memory. “I knew if he didn’t find it where he left it, he would panic at the thought of someone discovering his secret. I didn’t want to embarrass him so I left the shirt right there and didn’t say anything.”

“Maybe Chenle put my shirt there as a joke,” you argued, but deep down you knew Jisung himself had willingly kept your shirt.

“That’s not all I’ve seen. I see how he looks at you; his pupils dilate while following your every fucking move like he’s on drugs. I’ve seen him smelling your hair when you aren’t paying attention, licking his lips while looking at yours-”

“Jaehyun-”

“I’ve heard things too,” he bit his lips and raised his eyebrows suggestively, hoping you would get it, but you just stared back at him blankly. “I’ve heard him moaning your name late at night more times than I can count.”

“Oh my god, Jaehyun! Shut up!” you hissed, scandalized.

“It’s not like I want to hear, Y/N,” he hissed back, imitating your tone. “Werewolves just happen to have incredibly good hearing. If I heard it, then trust me, the entire pack heard it. He wants you like crazy, Y/N. The rut just gave him the courage to act on it.”

You felt yourself blushing and your heart beating faster at the newfound information. Part of you was happy to know that it hadn’t just been his rut, but that didn’t solve everything.

“He’s too young. It’s just wrong,” you argued exhaustedly.

“...Seriously? That’s what made you run away from the poor guy?” Jaehyun asked incredulously. “His age?”

“He’s not ready to make a lifetime decision like that-”

“No, Y/N. Stop babying him,” Jaehyun wasn’t going to accept that as an argument. “Yeah, he’s a bit younger than you, but so what?! He is an adult! And he presented as an alpha-”

“He just presented-”

“What difference does it make? Whether he presented yesterday, last month, or last year doesn’t change who he is. He is a man, Y/N and he knows what he wants.”

You gulped and cleared your throat awkwardly. Jaehyun normally wasn’t this stubborn; he always let you have it your way and win every argument, but he wasn’t backing down now. You didn’t want to continue this conversation anymore.

“Jaehyun, I came here to see you. I don’t want to fight,” your voice shook slightly as you spoke. “Can we just watch a movie together?”

Jaehyun didn’t want to fight either. And he especially didn’t want to make you cry, he just wanted the best for you and Jisung, but he could tell the conversation wasn’t going anywhere. He would have to find another way to help you.

“Let’s watch Barbie,” he proposed, hoping to make you laugh again. You rolled your eyes and suppressed a smile, which was enough for him. You spent the evening joking, laughing and watching movies, complaining about the characters and the plot holes while cuddling like in the old times. You felt comfortable in your friend’s arms and soon started falling asleep while he caressed your hair. Jaehyun was whispering something, but you were too tired to pay attention.

“Forgive me,” you thought you heard him say before you surrendered to sleep.

When you woke up a couple of hours later, Jaehyun wasn’t next to you; his side of the bed was cold and the TV screen displayed that Netflix message asking if you wanted to continue watching. Everything was in silence.

“Jaehyun?” you called out sleepily.

“He is not here,” that voice did not belong to Jaehyun. You jumped slightly and looked around trying to find the source of that voice, your eyes slowly adapting to the darkness around you.

“J-jisung?!” you breathed out when you finally spotted him sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, his features barely distinguishable under the little rays of moonlight that managed to enter the room.

He just stared back at you tiredly. Like you, he looked like he hadn’t slept well in a while.

“W-where is Jaehyun?How did y-you get in?” you asked nervously.

Jisung’s gaze darkened, his fingertips digged harshly into his knees and he clenched his jaw before reaching for his phone in his pocket and unlocking it. After scrolling down a couple of times, he stood up and walked around the bed, making you squirm cautiously at his behavior. He stopped next to you and showed you the screen of his phone, the light hurting your eyes slightly.

There it was: a message from Jaehyun with the exact address you were in and the code he needed to open the door, followed by the words ‘she is here.’

“W-what…?” you mumbled dumbly, reaching for your own phone and finding a message for you too.

Jaehyun: sorry Y/N but u 2 need to talk

You scoffed incredulously. “Fucking traitor.”

You slammed your phone on the nightstand and sighed, your eyes meeting Jisung’s once again. His unreadable expression made you incredibly nervous.

“W-when did you get here?” You were the first to break the silence.

“An hour ago… or maybe two,” Jisung replied, dark eyes still boring into yours.

“Oh,” you shifted awkwardly on the bed. That meant he had been watching you sleep the entire time. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he mumbled, his fingertips playing with the hem of his hoodie. “I’m not dumb. I know you’re avoiding me. I just wanted to look at you a bit longer and then leave before you woke up,” his voice got smaller as he reached the end of that sentence.

The way he was showing himself in such a vulnerable and hesitant state made all the negative feelings you had been feeling the last couple of weeks come back stronger than ever; guilt, shame, anxiety and fear. Jaehyun was right; you had to at least have the decency to talk to Jisung and solve this issue once and for all.

“Jisung,” you called out, making him flinch slightly. “There’s something I have to tell you-”

“Could you take a shower first?” he suddenly blurted out, like he had been holding it in for a while. “You reek of him,” he quickly explained when you gave him a perplexed look.

Your first instinct was to argue back; to tell him that he had to get over it and that this conversation was more important than his wolf being possessive. But after a moment of thinking, you decided to fulfill his request. You had already done enough damage, and you were about to hurt him even more, so the least you could do was make it a bit more comfortable for him.

“Sure,” you said as you got up from the bed and made your way to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes from your backpack as you walked past him. “See you in a bit.”

He let out a soft ‘ok’ before you closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, your legs shaking slightly. You had forgotten how alluring his voice was, how pretty his eyes were and how soft his lips looked. As you felt hot water run down your skin for the second time that day, part of you wanted to just beg for his forgiveness and kiss him until your lips were swollen, but then again, that little voice in your head told you you shouldn’t and that you had to end things with him. Or at least that was what you intended when you exited the bathroom and joined him in the living room.

“Put this on,” he offered you the hoodie he was wearing earlier as soon as he saw you. Suddenly a cold shiver ran down your spine and you finally noticed that Jisung had opened all the windows- probably in an attempt to get rid of Jaehyun’s scent.

“I’ll just go get my own hoodie,” you replied, but he quickly shook his head.

“No. This one,” he insisted, practically shoving the hoodie into your arms. “Please,” he added when he sensed your hesitation. You sighed, and put it on, again telling yourself it was the least you could do for him.

“Listen, Ji-” you started saying, but as soon as you finished putting the large hoodie on Jisung’s arms were around your waist, bringing you incredibly close to him as he rested his head on your shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of your neck affectionately. An unintentional pang of pleasure clouded your mind when he rubbed the mark on your neck slightly and you couldn’t help the way your body relaxed, baring your neck for him. Jisung hummed appreciatively and gave your neck a long lick that made you whimper before you remembered what you were going to say. “J-jisung-”

“Hmm?” he acknowledged with a kiss on your neck before he got back to scenting you..

“I’m-” you bit your lip and gathered the courage you needed before speaking again. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

He tightened the hold his arms had around you, fingers digging into your flesh. “It’s okay,” he assured you quickly through shaky breaths. “We’re okay.”

“It’s not okay,” you sighed and tried to put some distance between the two of you, but he didn’t budge. “I- I should have done this sooner-”

“I said we’re fine,” he repeated, this time his voice was firm. “We’re together now.”

“But we´re not- we shouldn’t b-be…fuck,” you groaned and took a deep breath. “What happened between us- it was a mistake.”

There. You said it.

The hug you were captive in loosened up and Jisung lifted his head, taking a hesitant step away from you. His brows furrowed in a puzzled expression that soon turned into one of anguish, his glossy eyes telling you that was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. You felt like absolute trash.

“...Why do you say that?” he asked, his voice cracking.

You did your best to ignore the way your chest throbbed at the sight. “It w-was your first rut and I-”

“Fuck,” Jisung turned around and threw his head back, walking a few steps away before he hunkered down on the floor like he was in physicall pain. “FUUUCK!”

You didn’t dare to move nor say anything else. It was the first time you had heard him raise his voice and it reminded you of the severity of the situation you were in. You had fucked up badly.

“Of course!” he said as he slowly stood up, facing you again, his face pure of torment. Heartbroken. “Of course you would never want to do all that with me,” he laughed bitterly.

You clenched your eyes, his words hurting more than you anticipated. “Jisung, I-”

“You just felt sorry for the late presenter who was humping your pillow like a loser,” he spat angrily.

“That’s not true-”

“And here I was thinking I had a chance with you,” he continued rambling,panting heavily. “That you may actually like me back-”

“I do!” you bursted out, finally catching his attention. “I do like you,” you admitted as tears rolled down your face. “I like you s-so much,” you ended your confession with a sob and covered your face with your hands. “I’m so sorry.”

For a whole minute the only noise that could be heard in the living room were your mournful sobs and Jisung’s heavy breathing.

“...You lost me there,” Jisung finally broke the silence. “I don’t get it,” he walked towards you cautiously as you wiped your tears desperately. “If you and I feel the same, then why-... why are you saying it was a mistake?”

“B-because you-,” you tried to compose yourself and speak properly, but your body and heart simply weren’t in the mood to listen to your brain. “You’re too young and-”

“What?!” Jisung asked like you had just said he was a vampire. You tried to hide your face again but he grabbed both your wrists and pulled them to your sides, his eyes looking for yours. “I’m too what?!” he repeated.

“Too young…” you barely whispered, looking away.

“Too young for what?” he spoke through gritted teeth. “To date? To make my fucking choices? To fuck?!” he continued, slowly cornering you against the wall. “Too young for you, noona?”

You inhaled sharply when your back bumped into the wall and he pinned your hands on each side of your head. “J-jisung, we s-shouldn’t-”

“Why?”

“I just don’t w-wanna take a-advantage of yo-” before you could finish that sentence Jisung was kissing you firmly, soft lips moving against yours. Your heartbeat accelerated when he nibbled on your bottom lip softly, as if asking for permission and letting out a frustrated groan when you didn’t let him in. You turned your head to the side and spoke again. “Jisung I can’t-”

“Shut up,” Jisung growled, letting go of your hands to grab your jaw and forcefully make you face him, his other hand sneaking around your waist. “Just shut up. I don’t wanna hear any more nonsense,” he warned you and crashed his lips into yours again, nibbling and licking insistently for you to part your lips. When you refused to give in again, his hand went from your jaw to the back of your head, grabbing your hair and tugging enough to catch you by surprise, using the soft gasp he elicited from you as an opportunity to finally deepen the kiss. He moaned into the kiss and massaged your scalp gently as an apology, and you felt your eyes roll to the back of your skull, finally daring to kiss him back, all will to fight slowly evaporating from your body. When he broke away from the kiss, you caught yourself feeling utterly disappointed.

“Are you done being impossible?” he asked, pecking your lips softly. “Done making things unnecessarily difficult?” the next kiss lasted a bit longer, his hands finding their way to your hips. “Where did you even get that ridiculous idea, hm?” he pressed his hips into yours, immediately reminding you of his size. “You think I’m some innocent kid, is that it?” he challenged, rutting against you firmly. The effect was immediate: you felt yourself melt into a puddle at the touch you had been craving for weeks, letting out a soft moan, much to Jisung’s delight. “Yeah? You missed me?” he chuckled against your lips, pressing himself against you harder and making you whine desperately. “Then you should have picked up your phone, no? Texted me back? Opened the door when I showed up?” He kissed his way from your jaw to your neck, sucking harshly. “All because you felt guilty? Guilty for what? For making my biggest fantasy come true?” he growled against your neck, making you tremble.

“Jisung-,” you gulped when he grabbed your shorts and panties and pulled them down unceremoniously. “S-slow down. Let’s think-”

“Don’t wanna,” he simply said as he finished undressing your lower parts. “I’ve had plenty of time to think. I’ve been thinking about this for years, noona,” he pulled his sweatpants down along with his boxers only enough for his hardened cock to be released, bobbing and hitting his covered lower abdomen. “The more I think of it, the harder I get.”

You could feel yourself drooling at the sight of Jisung slowly jacking off in front of you as he observed you with hooded eyes.

“You want it?” he teased you, his hand circling the tip of his cock and squeezing slightly, hissing. You could only nod dumbly. “But you think it’s wrong, huh?” he quirked his eyebrows and you nodded again. He rolled his eyes and pressed his body close to yours again. “Because I’m too young?” he cooed. Again, you nodded, like it was the only thing you knew how to do. He hummed, not stopping the constant movement of his hand on his dick, while his other hand made its way between your legs, sliding two fingers along your pussy and spreading your wetness to your clit. “Then why are you this wet? Aren’t I too young to make you this wet, noona?”

You closed your eyes, embarrassed. “J-jisung, please…” you begged, without being sure of what you were begging for. He slowly inserted both fingers into your entrance, both your jaw and his falling open; yours due to the stretch and his for the anticipation of being surrounded by you. He moved his fingers carefully inside of you, searching for that one spot he had found last time-

“AH! J-jisung oh g-god!”

Found it. He smirked and stole another kiss from you before quickly massaging that spot in a ´come here´ motion, along with stroking his cock lazily.

“Jisung f-fuck, fuck oh-!” you didn’t know what to hold onto, and ended up pulling at his shirt with trembling hands. Sensing how close you were, he put his own pleasure aside, releasing his own member and using that hand to draw smooth circles on your clit. “JISUNG-” you gasped and threw your head back, surrendering to the intense orgasm Jisung had built up for you. You didn’t know if it was because of the mating mark, but only Jisung could make you feel like this. You worked on controlling your breathing as Jisung retracted his fingers from you gently, and opened your eyes right in time to see him bring his soaked fingers to his mouth, licking them wantonly and moaning in delight. For a second his eyes gleamed a reddish tone that made your blood run cold.

“Don’t worry,” he said as if he knew what you were thinking. “It’s too soon for me to have another rut. Especially when my last one left me so…,” he licked his lips. “...Satisfied.”

“O-oh,” you replied, trying your best to form a coherent sound, but your legs chose that moment to give up on you and your body started sliding down the wall. Luckily, Jisung was fast enough to reach for you and hold you firmly against him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice showing a hint of nervousness as he tried to look for an answer in your unfocussed eyes.

“Feel weird-” you managed to answer, letting him lift your weak body and guide your legs around his waist, pressing you against the wall once again. When his hot cock rubbed against your sensitive pussy your entire body trembled and you moaned into his chest.

“Noona,” he cupped your face with his palm, holding your weight with one arm like it was nothing. “Weird how? What do you feel?”

You shook your head weakly. You didn’t know how to explain the way your body responded to Jisung, making your limbs weak, your chest warm, and every nerve tingling with pleasure, something in the back of your head telling you to submit to him. Jisung bit his lip before he decided to look for your neck, giving it experimental nuzzles and licks like a puppy trying to comfort its owner. You moaned out loud and bared your neck for him, giving him as much access as he wanted.

“A-alpha,” you moaned, shaking in his arms. Jisung’s eyes lighted up with a hint of red again, and stared at you expectantly. “Make it b-better, alpha-,” you sobbed desperately.

Something in Jisung snapped right in that moment, inhaling sharply and kissing you fiercely, his hips rutting against you roughly and creating a friction that had you gasping into the kiss.

“It’s okay, noona,” he assured you while his hand slid between your bodies to line himself up against your entrance, pressing only slightly in an attempt to make you open up for him without forcing it, although it felt like torture for you. “Alpha will take care of you,” he declared before the head slid in, making both of you moan loudly. “Feels good, yeah? Feel how good alpha fills you up?” he panted when he managed to bury himself completely inside of you.

“S-so good,” you stuttered brainlessly, letting him bounce you on his cock and against the wall.

“Still think this is wrong?” he asked in between kisses. “Still think I’m too young?”

He slowed down his thrust to a stop when you didn’t reply, distancing his upper body from you enough to see your embarrassed face. “You do?!” he asked incredulously. You looked away and he scoffed. “Am I not enough of a man for you? Even after I marked your pretty neck as mine? Even when you can barely take my cock?” he thrusted into you sharply as to emphasize his question. “Get rid of that stupid thought, now,” he ordered you, his eyes showing a red hue again.

“I-I’m trying-,” you hiccupped with difficulty as he fucked you intently. “It’s n-not that e-easy-”

“Let me help you,” he hissed and just like that you suddenly didn’t feel the wall against your back anymore. You shrieked and hugged Jisung more tightly out of fear of falling on the floor now that you didn’t have the wall as support. Jisung walked a few steps back, with you clinging onto him like a koala, before he grabbed your waist with both hands. “Let me show you how much of a man I can be.”

Before you could complain about the possibility of you being too heavy for this, or him losing balance, or all the ways this could end up badly, he silenced you by lifting you up and slamming you down back into his cock with ease, reaching deep enough to make you choke on your saliva.

“Could someone who is too young do this?” He snickered and kissed your neck before he started moving you up and down his cock with ease, as the muscles in his forearms tightened and his veins popped up attractively. You didn’t even know strength could turn you on like this, but when Jisung used you like you were nothing but a fleshlight you felt another orgasm approaching you fast. “Tell me, noona,” he hissed. “Am I n-not a man to you?” he fought the need to roll his eyes back in pleasure to see your wrecked face.

“Al- alpha,” you tried to reply as you felt your orgasm so close you could barely speak. “Y-you a-...you’re a m-man fuck, alpha, alph-AH!” you sobbed as your vision went blank and your walls clamped around him, making him moan and tremble, hugging you tightly against his chest, where you could feel his heart beating through the material of his shirt.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his hard cock still inside of you contrasting the romantic nature of the way he was hugging you.

“Y-you’re a man,” you admitted, feeling weak after the mindblowing orgasm.

“Say you’re mine,” he spoke again.

“I’m…,” you sighed as he kissed your mark softly. “I’m yours, alpha.”

“Now tell everyone,” he ordered, catching you off guard. Who was he talking about? Did he mean telling the other members of his pack? Telling your friends? Introducing him to your parents? As you were trying to understand what he meant, he started walking towards the balcony, walking past the window and standing there in the cold night, where all the neighbors could see you. “Now.”

“J-jisung, what are you doing?” you slapped his chest weakly until he put you down. You were glad his hoodie covered you past your thighs and he was fully dressed- except for his cock on full display- and tried to hurry him back inside before someone saw you both, but Jisung quickly grabbed your hips and turned you around against the balcony railing, pressing his body against you. “Jisung, n-not here!”

“I want the world to see,” he murmured like he was in a trance. “I want them to hear how good you are for alpha,” he purred, lifting the back of your hoodie just enough for his cock to rub against your ass.

He was crazy. There was no way you were going to do that. Or so you thought, but the moment he slid himself back into you with a shameless moan, all caution was forgotten, and you could only think about how good he was stretching you and how sweet he sounded moaning against your ear.

“Noona,” he moaned into your neck, his hips speeding up to a constant rhythm. “Say it again,” he pleaded, his hands feeling you up like a madman, wanting to memorize every curve. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m y-yours,” you whimpered, your fist tightening around the railing and enjoying the way his cock twitched inside of you at the words. “I’m yours, Jisung, p-please I’m- oh! Oh god, Ji I’m yours, I’m yours I-” you moaned when he cursed and his hips stuttered.

“I love you, n-noona,” he sobbed, digging his fingers into your hips to keep you in place to take his unruly thrusts. “I love you, I love y-you so much so, so much ah! Ah, fuck, ah!” he panted heavily as the base of his cock started inflating into what soon would be a huge knot. “D-don’t try to run away from me a-again, noona,” he pleaded? Warned? “I won’t let you. You’re n-not going anywhere-fuck! This pretty pussy’s all mine,” definitely a warning. “I’ll fuck you so good, noona, hhm? Breed you every day, keep you so f-full you w-won’t have any more stupid ideas in that pretty head of yours, y-yeah?”

You moaned so loud you knew someone out there had surely heard. But you couldn’t care anymore; the only thing in your mind were Jisung’s filthy promises and the stretch of the knot he insistently tried to push into you were making you delirious. “Y…yeah- oh fuh- ugh fuck yes, a-alpha!” your slurred words were barely understandable, too cock drunk to express yourself properly. “Fuck me s-soh aaah! so g-good- wanna… want you inside of me all d-day.”

That’s what did it for Jisung. He rammed into you harshly, his knot finally inside of you as his cock jerked, continuous gushing of cum making you feel full enough for a small bump to form in your belly.

“You’re squeezing me s-so good, noona.” Jisung panted deliriously while licking your neck. “Taking all my cum, yeah? Milk me up some more, hmm?” he asked, one of his hands finding your clit and rubbing it quickly as you moaned and squirmed against him. “Yeess, noona, just like t-that, come on, cum for me, cum for alpha-” he demanded, relishing in the way your walls contracted round him.

“A-alpha!” you whimpered when your third orgasm of the night hit you, shaking uncontrollably as Jisung released another spurt of cum inside of you. “love y-you, alpha…” you croaked out weakly. Jisung purred a chant of ‘love you too, love you so much, noona,’ as he gave the mating mark one last kiss and slid out of you when his knot shrunk enough to allow it, cum immediately sliding out and down your thighs as Jisung carried you back inside the apartment.

Jisung laid you down on the sofa and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back right after with a wet towel that he used to carefully clean you up, gently apologizing whenever you would flinch in oversensitivity.

“You came a lot…,” you commented absentmindedly.

“Oh that’s probably because- uh, I haven’t come since the last time I saw you,” he confessed, shrugging.

“What?” you yelped. “That was like three weeks ago! Why didn’t you uh–... you know,” you ended vaguely by making a crude gesture with your hand that had him laughing out loud.

“I tried,” he explained when his laugh calmed down. “I would start jerking off, but my hand didn’t feel as good as yours, and it wasn’t as soft and warm as…,” he eyed you up hungrily. “...As all of you. So I would get frustrated and give up.”

“That sounds like torture,” you say.

“It was,” he admitted. “But I feel much better now.”

You hummed and then you both fell into a comfortable silence.

“Are we-” Jisung bit his lip nervously, going back to his reserved persona like he hadn’t just fucked you out in the open. “Are we okay now?”

“Yeah,” you replied tiredly. “More than okay.”

“...Will you give us a chance, then?” he asked hopefully.

"Will I get my shirt back if I do?" you asked cheekily. "The pink one, with a heart on it," you added when Jisung gave you a puzzled look. Then you saw his eyes widen and his face blush a record shade of red.

"Who told you?!"

"Jaehyun."

Jisung groaned dramatically. "Look, noona. I'm not a creep. It just smelled so good-Fuck! That's what a creep would say-" he tried to defend himself desperately.

"Jisung," you called for him, giving him a tender kiss. "What do you need the shirt for if you can have me anytime you want."

His eye color matched the blush on his face at your words as he licked his lip tentatively. "Anytime I want?"

You nodded and kissed him again, feeling him smile into the kiss.

Then a thought crossed your mind and you broke to kiss, gasping in realization.

“We’re gonna get a noise complaint. Or a complaint for public indecency. We’ll get banned from using airbnb.”

“Under whose name is the reservation?” Jisung asked

“Jaehyun’s.”

“Then I honestly don't care,” he said nonchalantly as he leaned in to kiss you again.

#nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct dream smut #park jisung x reader #park jisung smut #jisung smut

2K notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 8 months

Text

My Sweetheart: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You purchase a vintage sweetheart bracelet from an antique store and with it, comes the spirit of the woman who owned it. Through her, you go on an interesting journey to find out what happened to her old lover.

Part 1

It's been two days since you've basically taken a ghost back home with you. Said ghost named Dot who was attached to the sweetheart bracelet you bought. In the few days since discovering her, you've discovered that she can be pretty powerful. She'll open doors, knock things over, stuff to grab your attention. While she does have a lot of energy, communicating with you can take a lot out of her sometimes. Now it's day three and you're at your computer with a pen and paper beside you to see if she can give you the name of this Jamie person.

You watch as the pen moves a bit but doesn't lift. You're sure she's trying her best, but it kind of frustrates you. You want to help Dot so she can move on and so that you can get back to living your regular life, completely alone without your newfound ghost roommate.

Ways to talk to ghosts

You type the words into google and click on the first link you see: ouija board, a spiritual medium, pendulums, rods, voice recorder, or a spirit box.

Out of all the options, you felt like the ouija board would be the best bet to communicate with Dot. So later that day you go to your local Target and purchase a ouija board, because, yes, they do sell those there. The board being considered as a game.

Later that night, after you've had dinner, you sit in your living room. You have the ouiji board set on your coffee table. The lights are off in the room except for a few candles you lit. You place the sweetheart bracelet beside the board, hoping it'll bring as much of Dot's energy as possible. Beside that, is a pad and paper for you to jot notes

You take the planchette, sliding it over to HELLO.

You take a deep breath, "Dot, are you here?"

With your fingers lightly touching the planchette, they slide towards YES on their own.

"Alright. What is your full name?"

You watch at the device slides over each letter to spell out D-O-L-O-R-E-S-M-I-L-L-A-R-D.

"Dolores Millard. Okay. Nice to meet you, Dolores. But I'm assuming you prefer Dot?"

YES, she says as it slides to the upper left of the board.

"Alright, Dot. Who is this Jamie you want me to look for him? Why do you want me to look for him?"

J-A-M-E-S-B-A-R-N-E-S

"James Barnes? Uuuhh, is there anything else you can give me? Does he have a middle name? It'll make things easier to looking him up."

B-U-C-H-A-N-A-N.

"James Buchanan Barnes. Alright. Give me a second," you pull out your phone and type in James Buchanan Barnes as well as 1940s.

You went through a list of men, Dot either telling you YES or NO. Then it hit you, "Wait. Hold on."

You type in BUCKY BARNES to google and tap on a picture captured of him and Sam Wilson, "Is this your Jamie? Is Bucky Barnes your Jamie?"

YES.

"...well shit!"

_______________________________

Bucky didn't expect things to go this way. He didn't think he'd find himself working beside Captain America again. However, he did find it therapeutic in a way. Sure, he still went to therapy, just not with Dr. Raynor anymore, but this was a different kind of therapeutic. This was him doing good, to make up for all the bad he's done as the Winter Soldier.

The newly renovated Avengers Compound in upstate New York was where Bucky stayed a majority of his time. He still had his place in Brooklyn when he needed to get away from Sam and the newbies, but, for the most part, this was where he can be found.

"Uh, hey, Mister Barnes?"

Bucky looks away from the tv to see Kamala looking at him confused, "What is it, kid?" He asks the young Avenger.

"So there's this lady in the main lobby asking for you. She said it's important?"

"Define important."

Kamala shrugs, "I don't know. Something about a bracelet and a lady named Dot."

Bucky's brows raise in interest, "Dot?"

"FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Bucky?"

"Bring up the CCTV footage of the lobby?"

"Got it," a holoscreen appears and you're seen sitting in a waiting area. Your leg is bouncing, your fingers are tapping on your lap.

"Is she someone you know?" Kamala asks.

Bucky shakes his head, "Nope, but she's mentioned someone that from my past. So I guess I'm gonna talk to her."

Kamala excitedly asks, "Need backup?!"

He chuckles at her eagerness. Even after working with Carol and Monica, Kamala is always wanting to jump in to help, "I think I'll be okay. You can watch the live footage if you want, just in case."

"OKAY!" Kamala plops herself onto the couch where Bucky previously sat and watched the holoscreen eagerly.

It takes a few minutes for Bucky to get to the lobby. The new Avengers Compound is much bigger now after Thanos destroyed the first one.

His brows furrow as he thinks about Dot. It's been literal decades since he's seen her. He knows she's long passed away after looking her and several other of his loved ones up on the internet. She ended up marrying another guy, had a few kids, and a few grandkids. She died about a decade ago.

When Bucky entered the lobby, you spotted him immediately. One of the security guards rushed to stop you, but Bucky held his hand up, "It's okay."

He then looks at you, "Do I know you?"

You shake your head, "No, sorry, um...can we go somewhere private?"

It's Bucky's turn to shake his head, "Sorry. Since I don't necessarily if you're a threat or not, this is the best we can do."

"Alright," you sigh and pull up your sleeve to reveal a bracelet, "Does this look familiar to you?"

Bucky looks down at your wrist and gestures, "May I?" You slip it off and place it into his metal hand. He looks at it and suddenly remembers, "Dot. I gave this to her before I was shipped out for the war."

"Right. Okay, so, um...do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Barnes?"

He snorts, "Call me Bucky, and, I mean, I've fought aliens, super soldiers, died and came back a few times now, so, sure, I guess ghosts are real. Why?"

"Soooo it seems that Dot's spirit is still connected to this...realm...? Anyway, she's attached to this bracelet and her spirit asked me to find you. I think, maybe, for some closure?"

"Is Dot here now?" Bucky asks, a bit, weirded out by this whole thing.

You shrug, "I don't know. I can't see her."

"Then how'd you communicate with her?"

"She wrote on my steamed up mirror the first time and then it's been primarily through ouija board."

"Those things actually work?"

"Seems so. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you helped me give her spirit closure so I can start living a normal life again, sans my new ghost roommate."

Bucky snorts. You're very interesting. It seems you're also very determined and a little desperate to solve this Dot situation out. Bucky's not busy. Sam's away on his own mission, so that leaves Bucky to some free time.

"Yeah. Sure, I guess I'll help."

"Thank you!" you fist bump the air, "Should we start now?"

"What exactly should we do first?"

You slip off your tote bag that you've been carrying and pull out the ouija board you've been using, "We can make contact with Dot?"

"You're...efficient," you shrug and Bucky chuckles, "Yeah. Sure. Okay. Um, we need to get you clearance first so, uh, come with me." You follow him to the desk and watch as he discusses your clearance badge to one of the security. You never thought buying a pretty vintage bracelet from an antique store would lead you to meeting an Avenger.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #f!reader #female!reader

198 notes · View notes

shygirl4991 · 3 months

Text

Cover art by @merp0515 Gmod art by @b-r-i-n-g-x Do not repost art (this fic is for my sib bringx have an awesome day!) Summary: Frustrated with SMG4, Three takes his stress out on a pair of dolls he put in Fours room. Slowly secret feelings slip out with a guest catching the whole show.

Tag: love confession, first kiss, dorks in love,fluff

SMG3 huffs walking away from four and the rest of the crew annoyed, SMG4 wanted to do a video testing everyone's skills in different challenges. Four knew that Three wasn't about eating challenges and other silly activities the others would be into, yet the man still told Three he had to eat a bunch of pasta against their avatar. He storms into the castle thinking on how to blow off steam since the group was using his cafe as background to help boost interest. He noticed that Four left his room open, there in the chest of his room were two doll made to look like their old design.

He keeps stomping as he makes his way to his partner's room, he slams the door shut and looks at the dolls. He picks them up frowning, seeing their old design brought back not so pleasant memories for him. He sits on the floor with the dolls and sighs changing the pitch of his voice he begins to move around the SMG4 doll “Oh Three mind doing some really stupid shit that will make you look like an idiot, haha that was a joke i dont give a shit go do it!” he picks up his doll and starts moving it “You're just giving me these roles cause you know i'm better than you, i'm A tier while your just a D tier scrub!”

He kept going back and forth getting his anger about the events out of his system, slowly something else surfaced as he brought the doll together. He blushed seeing how close the dolls were, he brought them closer as his heart raced at the thought of making them kiss. Is this something that he wanted?

He thinks back over everything they have gone through, he had to admit since confessing he saw the other man as a friend the pair had gotten closer. They joke around more, they hold hands more often not because he likes it after all they had to use their powers in that way. Lately he has not been able to get SMG4 out of his head, the idea of spending time with him made his chest feel strange. He thinks back to the last time he felt this way, he met Gary, he saved him from an explosion he caused due to using too much gunpowder they hit it off well until his obsession with SMG4 got in the middle.

He sighs dropping the dolls, everything that has gone wrong was because of the idiot. Yet at the same time all the best memories he had was also with the man, with conflicting emotions he grabs the dolls again and makes them kiss.

He smiles softly at the sight, it reminded him of their first kiss that Mario made them do. He acted like he hated it but deep down he knew he loved it, he changed his voice and moved the SMG4 doll “Your so awesome SMG3, no wonder you became tumblr sexy man. Lately my thoughts on you have changed.” he moves the other doll making it seem shocked “What are you saying SMG4!?” Lost in his game of pretending he doesn't hear the door open as SMG4 went to check on him. He blinks seeing Three sitting by his bed holding the two dolls, he slowly walks towards him hearing the man speaking.

SMG3 blushes feeling a bit embarrassed from what he was going to say “Well what i mean is i love you SMG3,” with that he makes the SMG4 doll kiss his. Seeing this SMG4 lets out a giggle “Hey Three what are you doing over there?” startled SMG3 screamed, throwing the dolls away from him.

Three turns giving the man an awkward smile “OH SMG4 how long have you been there?” Four couldnt help the smirk growing on his face as he looked at the dolls now abandoned. “Oh just got here, heard a voice in my room and wanted to check it out.” he then walks over and sits next to the man still smirking “What were you doing?”

Three lets out a nervous chuckle “Uh oh! Getting stressed out so I was teaching your stupid doll a lesson!” He smiles feeling confident that his answer lured Four away from the truth. Four hums picking up his doll then he turns to SMG3 “Well don't stop because of me let me help you out!” Three eyes go wide before he can decline the offer SMG4 presses the doll's lips on his cheek, causing him to blush.

Three stared wide-eyed at Four who then hides behind the doll “I can't help that i fell in love with you, we are friends now no longer rivals! I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. Could you ever forgive me?” still blushing he grabs his doll and talks behind it “Sure whatever this is fucking stupid why are we doing this?” Four moves the doll closer to him. Three was watching every move that Four was doing, nervous as to what the man in blue was planning.

“Because we had a fight earlier and i want to make it up to you,” Three blinks surprised to hear four words. Without thinking he leans forward, seeing this Four took his chance placing his own lips on Three. After the quick kiss, Fours face was dark red, he got up acting as if nothing happened “We should head back to the others!” Three gets up and grabs the blushing man pulling him into another kiss, dolls forgotten on the floor as the two share a kiss. As they pull away, Four looks at Three in awe, Three rubbing his arm “uh what just happened?”

Four shyly looked down “My confession with the doll wasn’t a lie, i got interested in dating…looked around and no one caught my eye. But that's when I noticed an apple already did and it's you..” SMG3 smiles hugging Four “You're such an idiot… I feel the same.” They pull away smiling softly at each other before leaving the room, Four then comes up with an idea. Telling Three he needs something he runs to his room and grabs the dolls, he places them on his bed now holding hands. He giggles and runs out of the room “HEY BABE NEW IDEA FOR A VIDEO!”

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #fluff #love confessions

70 notes · View notes

crappymixtape · 1 year

Text

nobody puts baby in the corner

steve has always been your best friend, nothing more, but when you have a falling out with tommy he finally realizes what’s been there all along | ( 3.2k, sad, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

N O B O D Y P U T S B A B Y I N T H E C O R N E R 🎶 bending back, art school girlfriend

“Come on, we’re leaving,” Tommy sniped, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the door. He was unsteady on his feet and your stomach dropped as he fumbled his keys from his pocket.

Things had been unraveling between you for a while, not that it was ever really good, but when Steve hadn’t pushed past ‘best friends’ you felt yourself settle for the other boy. You weren’t exclusive by any means, but after Carol left for college you sort of fell together as you filled the void she left behind.

When Tommy wasn’t being an asshole he could be sweet sometimes, but the weight of keeping up appearances and maintaining his status - and maybe the fact you weren’t Carol - had turned him into a pressure cooker.

So. You were here. Again. The voice inside your head telling you this was it. The breaking point. You couldn’t do it anymore.

“But—Steve said he’d drive us,” you protested, pulling your arm away from him. Tommy always drove home buzzed and you hated it, but this was different. He was drunk. Glancing over your shoulder you gave Steve a panicked look and he ran his hands anxiously through his hair, taking a couple steps closer to you both.

“Hey, c’mon man, you’re wasted you can’t driv—“

“No one asked you, Harrington,” Tommy cut him off, rounding on his friend to get in his face.

Steve could smell the booze, the cheap cigars, could see the glassy look of his eyes. Giving you a quick glance, he drew his brows together in concern and reached to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Tommy, c’mon, I can drive yo—“

There was no warning as Tommy pulled back and loosed a punch to Steve’s face, sending him stumbling backwards and into the sofa behind him, “I don’t need your help, man.”

“Jesus, Tommy!” your heart leapt into your throat as you watched Steve put his fingers to the bloodied cut on his lip, clambering up from where he’d landed.

“You’re drunk. Shit. At least call a cab,” Steve’s tone held heat, obviously frustrated, but he was persistent, still trying to be a friend even when he didn’t want to be. He took a few steps back toward Tommy, fingers brushing against yours as he passed, and grabbed the keys from him, “Don’t. Drive. Please.”

They leveled each other, Steve’s breathing a bit quicker than Tommy’s as his fingers came back to the cut on his lip.

Huffing a laugh Tommy shook his head, wagging a finger in Steve’s face. “You think you’re so fucking cool. So ‘responsible’ now. Right? With your little shithead kids chasing you around,” he took a step in toward Steve again, swaying slightly as he planted his feet. “Well. Let me tell you something, King Steve, we don’t need that shit here, m’kay?”

Rounding on you, Tommy’s hand went for your arm again, but Steve slapped it away, “She’s not going.”

Tommy looked from you, to Steve, then back to you again and started laughing, but the both of you could tell it wasn’t funny. “So what, you speak for her now, Harrington? She’s got her own voice, go on,” too quick for you to step back, he gave your shoulder a push. It was small, but as soon as he touched you Steve was on him.

“Don’t touch her,” the look in his eye was something you’d never seen before. Something was different. This side of Steve. There was a confidence that hadn’t been there before, a steady strength. It made you feel safe, but Tommy’s eyes flashed with doubt.

Then he doubled down.

“Or what?” Tommy cut at him, getting right back in his face, and Steve didn’t want to fuck around anymore.

“Or you’re gonna do something stupid! Just get outta here. You wanna leave? Then go. She’s already said she’s staying. Walk it off man, you can get your keys in the morning,” Steve’s voice was firm, but the hard look in his eye from earlier had faded a bit and in its place was something a little softer. Sadder.

“Whatever. Everyone knows you’ve got it bad for him anyway,” Tommy snapped, getting in your face for only a second, and then he stepped back toward the door, “You’ll have to tell me how she is Steve, since apparently she’s saving it for you. Fucking prude.”

You felt Steve’s eyes on you as your cheeks burned hotly, dropping your gaze to the floor, silently begging for it to open up and swallow you whole. Anything other than this.

A few people filtered back in from the kitchen after hearing raised voices, and someone tried to take Tommy’s shoulder, but he shoved them off on his way out. “Outta my way,” he slammed the door so hard the frame shook, throwing the room into silence.

You were stuck in your head then, closed off, Tommy’s words playing over and over and over in your mind:

Tell me how she is Steve.

She’s saving it for you.

Fucking prude.

You hadn’t realized you’d started crying until you felt a hand take yours and you pulled in a sharp breath as you blinked back into reality.

“Sorry,” Steve’s voice was low and gentle as he took a small step back. Rubbing the back of his neck he wanted to give you a smile, something, anything to reassure you, but everything just felt so heavy.

Swallowing thickly you felt more tears cut down your cheeks, your throat tight as you choked back your feelings. “Uhm—“ you tried to keep your voice as even as you could, but it wobbled, “—can we go? Outside or…” You couldn’t finish your thought without loosing the sob stuck in your chest, but Steve knew. He knew.

“Yeah, yeah okay. Sure,” without hesitation he took your hand gently in his and looked out back through the patio slider. Peter was doing a keg stand while the rest of everyone chanted his name and Steve knew that wasn’t it. He hummed in thought for a minute and then brought his gaze back to you. “I’ll take you home, but I gotta fix this,” his tongue darted out to feel the cut on his lip, “Got a first-aid kit or somethin’ at your place?”

You nodded eagerly just wanting to leave and Steve took the hint. Pulling you both out to his car quick, he made sure to get you settled in your seat first before coming around and getting in, starting the short drive down the road to your house.

You’d moved in across the street from the Harrington‘s back in second grade after your dad got a job at the plant in town. With the Wheeler’s right there too there were plenty of friends around and between you, Steve, Nancy and Mike - and eventually the others - there was no shortage of fun growing up.

Grade school passed quickly with shared lunches and swapped desserts. You played in Steve’s pool while your parents watched him with his mom and dad out of town all the time. And in the 5th grade he finally figured out how to climb up the tree outside your bedroom window. So sneaking in at night to watch Family Ties became a thing.

Middle school was much the same, but the social pecking order started with school dances and “boyfriends” and girlfriends” and you tried to keep up with him. He took to popularity so easily, but he always made sure to include you. And you still swapped dessert at lunch. And he still snuck in your window.

But high school. Oh god.

People were cruel, unforgiving, and while Steve still made sure to bring you along it was harder for you to fit in. You were just a little nerdier, not into make-up or fashion, and the girls you surrounded yourself with maintained hollow friendships. Carol at least didn’t seem to mind you, but she was attached to Tommy’s face every minute of the day and with Steve chasing after Nancy, you had to forge your own way.

You still got invites to parties and whatever, but Steve was sneaking in through Nancy’s window instead of yours and you quickly became the fifth wheel. College was a shared pressure for all of you, kind of bringing people back together for a minute, but when Carol got in and Tommy didn’t a rift started between them and they fought a lot. Your group was fracturing. Steve and Nancy broke up and she started dating Jonathan Byers and then he just kind of disappeared. And that left you with Tommy until right before graduation…

Steve came back.

He stood a little taller, wasn’t as bothered to adhere to the rules of popularity, was hanging around with Nancy’s little brother and his friends. And one night, right after summer started in the glow of the warm Indiana sunset, he threw a rock at your window and climbed up the tree to your room.

He knew you and Tommy had grown close by proximity, knew about the falling out with Carol and felt bad about how he’d just up and left you. And after whatever had transpired over the time he was gone, his priorities had changed. It almost felt like grade school again with how easily you two fell into conversation, laughing until you cried – you were close again, but this time there was something more.

Something soft. A warmth that had nestled in your chest. An ember glowing in the dark and Steve had been the one to bring it to life.

Steve pulled into the driveway of your house, the windows dark, porch doused in black as you’d forgotten to leave a light on. Your parents were off helping your grandma for the weekend and you didn’t think of those things like your mom did.

The engine of Steve’s BMW rumbled to a still as he pulled the key from the ignition and you could feel him glance over at you. Your eyes were puffy from crying quietly on the drive home, and thankfully Steve hadn’t pushed you on it, keeping the radio on low to offer you what little privacy he could.

Before he could make it around to your side of the car, you quickly got out and made your way to the front door, grabbing the key from under the flower pot to get in. Steve made sure to lock it behind him as he came in after you while you went around turning a few lights on before grabbing the first aid kit from the bathroom.

Walking back into the kitchen, kit in hand, you nearly dropped it as you ran into him leaning against the counter, but his hands were quick to steady you. “Sorry,” he said softly, “Bad place to wait.”

You managed a small smile and set the kit on the counter next to him, but it fell a bit when you finally saw his lip in some proper light. “Shit,” you cursed under your breath, opening the little white box and digging out a couple of cotton balls and some peroxide.

Steve gave you a smaller version of his grin and laughed a little, “That bad?”

You hummed in thought for a minute as you soaked a cotton ball from the bottle in your hand. “Won’t need to amputate anything, but this is gonna sting,” you gently teased, finally really looking at him for the first time that night.

He loosed a soft chuckle and stooped so you could reach his lip, but when your eyes met his smile fell bit. His eyes were warm, flecks of gold and caramel swimming in honey, and you felt the little ember in your chest grow brighter. “S’okay,” he murmured.

Your hand trembled ever so slightly as you lifted the cotton ball to his lip, sorry whispered just before you pressed it against the cut.

“Fuck,” Steve hissed as his eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he bit down hard. You moved to pull your away, but his hand gently caught yours and he shook his head. “It’s okay, I’m okay,” and you believed him. A few more dabs and some neosporin later it looked a little better.

As you put everything back in the kit, you felt the lump in your throat had shrunk a little. Felt a little more like you. The quiet, the space, Steve, had helped. Worrying your lower lip between your teeth you glanced over to see Steve’s hand resting on the counter as you closed up the kit.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, and you lifted your gaze up to meet his again.

Taking in a small breath you let it out slowly, wrapping your arms around your chest, “Yeah. I’ll be okay.” You gave him a little smile, but it weakened when he didn’t return it. His brows were furrowed with concern and he most probably didn’t believe you. Maybe you didn’t believe you either.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” he lifted his hand from the counter, wanting to touch you, but tucked it into his pocket instead.

It’s okay if you’re not.

Your throat tightened again and tears gathered along your lashes. As you pressed them shut you finally felt his hands at your waist and you let him pull you in, arms wrapping around you warm like the sun.

The cries you’d thought you’d swallowed came climbing back up your throat and you let them free, Steve’s shirt catching your tears for you. He held you like that for a long time, his cheek resting against the top of your head until your shoulders stopped shaking.

Lifting you away from his chest, he cupped your face in his hands and gently brushed his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping away the tears. “You deserve so much better than that,” he said, leaning down to look into your eyes, “You deserve everything.”

Breath catching in your throat you wanted to love what he was saying, wanted to fold back into him, but all those memories — all that time without Steve — flooded your mind and you felt yourself get angry. “Where were you? It sucked. It sucked so much. And Carol left and it was just Tommy and…” you sucked in a breath, Steve taking in every word you said, “And we missed you. We needed you. I needed you.”

Your confession caught you by surprise and you clamped your mouth shut, watching as Steve’s expression melted into a muddled mix of sadness and regret.

“I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you but—“ he was struggling to put what had happened in the Byer’s living room into words, “—but it wasn’t safe and– and I wasn’t going to put you in a situation where you’d get hurt. If anything happened to you…” He let out a sigh of frustration and leaned his head back against the cabinets behind him.

Not safe? What situation? Questions were swirling around in your head and Steve knew it.

Leaning back down to you he bit in his lower lip and winced, forgetting about the cut there, and you grimaced along with him, your anger fading a bit. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but not right now. I just–” he lifted a hand back up to your cheek, lips pulling down into a frown, “–I realized it too late, but…I needed you too.”

I needed you too.

Steve never broke a promise, not to you, and he knew you’d hold him to it, so you didn’t push him and instead put your trust in him like you used to. Lifting your hand to your cheek you rested your hand over the top of his and leaned into his touch, threading your fingers with his. “Will you stay here tonight?” you asked quietly. It had nothing to do with Tommy, you knew he wouldn’t do anything, he was done with you, but you couldn’t bear the thought of lying in the dark. Of being alone in the inky black of your room.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Whatever you need,” his other hand found yours and squeezed it reassuringly, “My parents don’t give a shit long as I’m home to take the trash out.”

You both laughed then, cos it was true. Murmuring a quiet thank you, you pulled away from him, feeling keenly the absence of his hands in yours as they fell away. Flicking off the light he followed your silent cue, trailing after you down the hallway to your room.

Grabbing him a spare toothbrush from the cabinet in the hallway, you both got ready for bed. Swimming in the oversized Colts t-shirt that your older brother had left behind, you yanked on a pair of sweats and crawled under your covers while Steve finished up in the bathroom.

You heard the light switch off and Steve’s feet down the hallway as he peeked his head in through your doorway. “I can sleep on the couch,” he said softly, thumbing back toward the living room.

“No, stay,” it came out almost too quick and silence stretched for a second before you added, “Please.” Your cheeks grew warm and you were thankful for the dark as he murmured an okay back to you, kicking his shoes off at the foot of your bed.

The mattress dipped as he crawled up to you, his jacket and belt discarded back in the bathroom, and settled his head on the pillow next to yours. More silence hung between you, but your minds were anything but – you under the covers and Steve on top of the comforter. You thought maybe he was falling asleep until he said…

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

Silence. Then the mattress dipped again as he turned into you, your eyes meeting in the dim light of the moon that fell through your window. “I’ll always be here for you. Always,” and the tone in which he said it was one you’d only heard him use once.

You’d gotten in a fender bender right after graduation and fractured your wrist. It was nothing life-threatening, but he’d come to the hospital right away and stayed by your side for the few hours it took to get x-rays, meds, and a cast.

I’m not leaving. He insisted. It wasn’t even anything serious, but it had scared the shit out of him and after tonight there was no doubt in his mind about how he felt. He might not have been ready to say it yet, but you felt it too.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Another beat of silence and you felt yourself start to shrink away, but suddenly his hands were on your cheeks, warm and reassuring and safe. It would make his cut sting, but he didn’t care. Pressing his lips to yours he kissed you, soft and sweet, and when he pulled away you felt him smile against you.

Neither of you said anything after that, but you both were content to just lay next to each other there in the dark. Pulling your hand out from under the covers to find his, you tangled your fingers together, breaths spacing out as the tension left your bodies.

You fell asleep there in your room holding hands, a silent promise to each other to not leave again, and it was one neither of you intended to break.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve stranger things #steve x you #angst #steve harrington fluff

569 notes · View notes

salemontrial · 11 months

Text

My (probably unfinished) official list of everything I love about the trailer💫

- "How's it going :))-" SWERVED. ALEXANDER CLAREMONT-DIAZ GOT FUCKING S W E R V E D-

- Nora looks like she's going to stab Alex with her high heel. Also she's so pretty. Xjakcjd

- "you've done some pretty stupid things in your life, but this-" "Takes the cake? :DD-"

- The way Henry looks at them when they're lying on the floor covered in cake. It's like he's restraining himself from strangling Alex with his own suit jacket for the sole purpose of not worsening the scandal.

- "HENRY. SHOVED. ME.😡🥺" "An urge I currently share."

- Ellen in her pantsuit.. hey Ellen👉👈

- Alex is looking for ways to escape the room when she says the words "damage control" he fucking knows-

- THEY. GOT. LIL NAS X. ON THE FUCKING SOUND TRACK. Oh I p r a y they got the rights to Get Low I p r a y.

- ALEX'S FACE WHILE ZAHRA IS BRIEFING HIM HES SO DRAMATIC

- Im sorry guys henry is so fine alexander isnt going to be the only one thirsting over henry for the entire 2 hours/jjj

- That FUCKING handshake in the park. I can see the veins in their hands they are g r i p p i n g-

- these faces this is a point.

- "My NDA is bigger than yours, I want you to know that." "You're wearing Lifts. I know that too, sweetheart." -H e a d t u r n--- HES SO FLOORED FJSNF-

- HENRY'S LITTLE MOUTH QUIRK AFTER HE SAYS THAT

- I CAN SEE THE KEY NECKLACE. I CAN S E E IT BLESS THE COSTUME DEPARTMENT SHOVING HIM IN A LOWCUT SHIRT-

- "You better act like the sun shines out of his ass and you have a vitamin D deficiency" ZAHRA HAS THE BEST LINES AND ITS WHAT SHE DESERVES.

- Alex faffing about with his hair via his phone camera before the interview thats my b O Y-

- Henry slides over the box of cornettos so hard like thats the only hostile act hes allowed to parttake in

- To the person who theorized in the comments of one of my posts that Alex was going to do a little shoulder punch in the interview scene i am going to draw you a little firstprince fanart-/hj

- Because that was so funny and so fucking cute henrys fucking face through that whole interaction was just. He looks like he's actively trying to dissociate from the situation fjsjfj-

- The cancer ward🥺🥺

- Alex's u g l y ass suit at the new years gala... its such a gross jacket guys Im sorry this is what happens when you dont have jUNE TO MICROMANAGE HIS WARDROBE-

- Alex putting his arm around Henry and Henry smiling to himself because he's probably got the most insane case of butterflies

- I'm marrying the lighting director of this movie.

- GUYS GUYS SHUT UP ITS THE KISS.

- HENRY'S FACE BEFORE HE GIVES THE "Christ, you are as thick as it gets" LINE IS SO FUNNY. QUESTIONING WHY HE EVER WENT AND FELL IN LOVE WITH A DUMBASS

- THEY D O N T KISS LIKE THEYD RATHER GO DOWN A RAZOR WATERSLIDE🎉🎉🎉🎉💫💞💞🏳️‍🌈/GEN

- He does Henry's "Oh shit" face so w e l l-

- ALEX'S STETSON EVERYONE GET AWAY FROM ME

- KARAOKE SCENE KARAOKE SCENE I SEE HENRY AT THE MICROPHONE

- Guys hes g o i n g to do the thing he does with the bottle I just know it oh my god

- "Get O V E R yourself your majesty -p i l l o w-" "It's your royal HIGHNESS -p i l l o w-" "OHoho-"

- The polo match sjsjf. Same alwx-/J

- The little new voters goal thingy poster thats so cute actually-

- The pride flag in the back of the campaign office

- Henry texting while he's getting the royal preening sjcj

- never thought id cry just hearing henry say he misses alex out loud-

- THEYRE NOT SANITIZING IT TO MAKE IT PALATABLE/POS

- HENRY IN THE CLOSET I AM GOING TO SCREAM-

- "If anyone sees you leave this hotel I will brexit your head from your body....... Your royal highness." I LOVE HERRRRRR

- IF YOU FEEL FOREVER ABOUT HIM. AND THE AND THE PANNING TO THEM IN BED WITH THE SOFT LAMP LIGHT. AND THEYRE SO SOFT. AND AND AND AND. UEUE

- "Do you love him?" "What difference would it make if I did?"

- Bea's voice is so pretty sobs..

- It's always the blond autistic boys in the blue hoodies I swear to god/lh

- Theyre just chilling in their robes🥺🥺🥺

- DAVID!!!!!!!😭😭😭💞

- "Prince Henry belongs to Britain" and what if i sobbed.

- THEM HOLDING HANDS SOMEBODY SEDATE ME.

- NO SHUT UP NO GO AWAY HENRY CRYING... I TRUST HIM WITH HENRY'S HEAVIER SCENES NOW

- THEYRE AT THE LAKEHOUSE😭😭😭

- "It's like there's a rope attached to my chest and it keeps pulling me towards you"

- THE ASS GRAB. ALEXANDER GABRIEL CLAREMONT-DIAZ

- "The night is young, ma✨" <- said as if he isn't currently groping the prince of England's ass

- She sees right fucking through him sjcjsj

CONCLUSION: I will eat my hat. The movie looks really really really fucking good, it looks spectacular and I am so excited for it. I trust them. I'm only SLIGHTLY mad they barely had Nora in it and I'm only SLIGHTLY bitter at cutting June and Luna. But I am an optimist and I will focus on the good which is that they're doing the characters incredible justice, and if I see one person try to deny their chemistry I will A Clockwork Orange their ass to this trailer for days. Because That Is Alex and Henry. That's them in front of my eyes and I think they're in very good hands and this is the most coherent thing I can write I'm still crying-/srs

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #red white and royal blue movie #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #red white and royal blue trailer #rwrb trailer #🇬🇧🇺🇸 rwrb posting

150 notes · View notes

hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

Note

Hi! I love your page so much! From the dog/ handsome man ask, who would be the home wreckers and who would suffer in the friend zone?

Gaz and König would be the kings of the friend zoned boys while Ghost and Kruger would definitely manipulate, manslaughter, and manwhore their way in Sweetheart’s relationship. Where would the other boys be?

Hello! I'm so happy that you like my page!! I appreciate it 🙏 🫂❤️❤️

WHEW NOW YOU WENT IN BABES

(What we're referring to!)

You are very right, Gaz and König would be the absolute BALLERZ of the friend zone (or the brother zone, cause she sees them like "b r o t h e r s") and then Ghost and Krueger, like the SLUTS THEY ARE, would still be trying ONE HUNNID PERCENT

So let's use this as a pyramid system! The highest is 100% brother zone, and then going down further, you get to the Slut Homewreckers. It goes as such:

The Brother Zone

König

Gaz

Rodolfo

Alex

Roach

Horangi (The Whore Medium)

Alejandro

Price

Soap

Graves

Ghost

Krueger

The Slut Homewreckers

This was so sad to write out 😢

S I K E

Lemme start with Krueger, because he's always my favorite when it comes to Sweetheart.

Short answer: Krueger don't give a flying fuck shit.

Long answer: Krueger has been heavily obsessed with Sweetheart ever since he met her. You think that'll just E N D cause she got a boyfriend? Bitch please, that just makes him want her more. That little boyfriend is just keeping her company for now. Sweetheart belongs to Krueger, she just doesn't know it yet.

Now Ghost, he honestly can't help it. If he has his eyes set on something, he's either gonna make it his or complete it with so much determination it's scary. And that's EXACTLY what he's gonna do with Sweetheart. He didn't think he would fall in love with anyone, so she has a very special place in his heart. He's a bit heartbroken that she has a boyfriend. But as I said with Krueger, that's not gonna stop him. He's absolutely addicted to her, and his addiction can't just be leveled by being friends.

Graves... Jesus. With how much Sweetheart hates him, he's still SO PUSHY. He also can't let her go just like that. He likes their banter too much. So much so, that he sees his future with her still doing this, just with her in his arms surrounded by a white picket fence. Now everytime they fight, his brain reminds him that she has a boyfriend. Fuck, well not for long. He's gonna be the most annoying, pushy asshole she has ever seen. And he's not gonna give up.

Soap-- he was honestly gonna be in the brother Zone, but I had to think... cause I have in another ask (that I haven't posted yet, lemme alone) saying that Sweetheart and Soap are best friends first and lovers last. But g o d that's so hard now because he's fallen in love with her. They're extremely close, and for Sweetheart to not tell him that she has a partner really messes with him. He can't shake the feeling of wanting her for himself. (I can also see him being so desperate and begging. I have a problem with Soap being desperate and begging, its like my whole personality)

Price DEFINITELY wasn't gonna be bro zoned. Like come on- he's so determined in everything he does. But he will feel guilt everytime he tries to woo her. The black tendrils coiling around his being, the right from wrong really be setting in his soul and he hates it. But his desires and his heart keep pushing him to do the "wroight" thing. (Get it? It's right and wrong mixed together HAHA sorry)

Alejandro wouldn't.... but also really would. He feels a connection to Sweetheart. Platonically and romantically. But the romantic weights out the Platonic, and long story short; he wants her. He doesn't want to give up, but he also wants to respect her decision. She seems happy with this man, but wouldn't she be happier with him?

Okay so Horangi is in the middle because he would be 50/50. He would respect her choice to have a boyfriend. I mean yEAH YOU SHOULD-- IDIOT. He would tell himself that it needs to be Platonic only. He would say that when he's near her, when he's staring at her, when he's about to sleep, about to eat, about to-- you get where I'm going. But what if he would keep trying? He's a dogshit gambler though, so it may not turn out right.

Roach would be too scared to be a Homewrecker. He doesn't want to lose her completely, so he will just be Sweetheart's friend. I don't think he could take it for long though, since everyone has a breaking point. Seeing her smile with her man makes him smile, but his heart is bleeding.

Alex would be a bit disgruntled, but he would get over it. She's still in his life but just as friends. He would love to kiss her though. And to wake up next to her in the mornings and make breakfast together-- BUT YA KNOW IT'S FINE, HE'S FINE

Rodolfo hurts me, man. I feel like he would be so sensitive to love. Especially when it comes to loving Sweetheart. He would just look like a sad puppy everytime he's around her cause he knows he'll never get her like he wants to. #LOVEFORRUDY2023

Gaz will be on the cusp of crying 24/7 and being jealous everytime he sees her. And her 🤢man🤢 he will be supportive though, in whatever Sweetheart does he will always be supportive. And a friend. Only a friend to Sweetheart because that's what she wants and he'll respect it. I mean shiii he has to, he doesn't want to ruin anything this good, even if it is platonic.

König, my boy. The König of the friendzone (I LIKE TO THINK IM FUNNY) alot of people think that he's "UwU Boi babygirl nervous wreck little meow meow" (which I do agree on sometimes but also-) he grew up with alot of anger, and punching the shit outta people in school and getting into fights. He would never, EVER put his hands on Sweetheart, but he will mess up his room. And she didn't tell him? He gonna shut off for quite some time. And cry. Cry a l o t. He would have to re-wire his brain to tell himself that she's taken. She's gone.

232 notes · View notes

jungwnies · 1 year

Text

a ⤖ aftercare (how he is after sex)

joong is literally the sweetest person ever after sex. he takes care of you, cleans you up, and just makes sure you're 100% comfortable. (i want him so bad y'all i can't even)

b ⤖ body part (his favorite body part)

his favorite body part on himself is his tongue... do i even need to explain... his favorite body part on YOU however is definitely your ass. he is 100% an ass person lololol

c ⤖ cum (anything to do with cum)

in you on you whatever he just likes seeing you pleased by him

d ⤖ dirty secret (his dirty secret)

he really really wants to record an audio of you just moaning like he realllyyyy wants to do that

e ⤖ experience (how experienced is he?)

he doesn't fuck around often, but he definitely has experience and he is good!!! especially with that tongue of his

f ⤖ fav position (sex position)

missionary or reverse cowgirl depends on his mood >.>

g ⤖ goofy (how he acts in the moment)

he's pretty serious cus he's tryna get down and dirty. when y'all fuck it's because he's actually fr horny and he wants to make sure it's good for both parties

h ⤖ hair (how groomed is he?)

he's well groomed, almost completely hairless

i ⤖ intimacy (how passionate is he?)

very?!?!?! why is this even a question... he literally loves you so hard... both ways ^.^

j ⤖ jack off (how often he masturbates)

not often... he'd rather wait to fuck you

k ⤖ kink (one or more)

bondage ngl....

l ⤖ location (fav place to do it)

he loves doing it in the bathroom for some reason. in the shower but also really loves fucking you in a bathrub

m ⤖ motivation (what keeps him going)

when you look him in the eyes, he swears he can see the sparkle in you. it turns him on so much when you look at him and pretty moans are leaving your mouth as he just rams into you

n ⤖ no (something he would NOT do)

he would not do age play, he's just... it's not for him

o ⤖ oral (giving + receiving — is he good?)

oh my god yes... he's so good at giving, he will make your eyes roll back. he honestly would prefer to give than receive, so get ready for thatttt

p ⤖ pace (fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

he is slow and sensual, but its sooooo good

q ⤖ quickie (his opinion on it + how often they happen)

he doesn't like them, he would rather take his time and make sure you really feel good, plus he enjoys the time he has with you.

r ⤖ risks (is he willing to experiment, does he take risks, etc.)

he's willing to experiment ofc, but he also has his boundaries!

s ⤖ stamina (how long can he last?)

a long time depending on how his day went, but he's definitely lasting longer than the avg, male

t ⤖ toys (does he use/own any?)

no he doesn't, he's thought about it, but he thinks his hands & his tongue are perfectly fine ^_<

u ⤖ unfair (how much does he tease?)

a lot but he's someone who gets shit done so of course he's going to finish what he started

v ⤖ volume (how loud is he + what noises does he make?)

he's loud when he knows he can be, but he controls his volume depending on the time & location he's not whiny but he's not someone who grunts either. it's more of an in-between thing, but he sounds hot asf.

w ⤖ wild card (random headcanon for him)

remember his dirty secret? well it finally came true. you allowed him to record your moans and after a long performance on tour he went to the hotel and got right to it in the shower and he played your moans on the speaker. luckily no one else was there because everyone else was eating dinner.

x ⤖ x-ray (what’s under his clothes?)

h'e not big but he's not micro either he's in between it grows when he's hard for sure and he has a beautiful build waist? helloooo

y ⤖ yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

honestly i just don't think his sex drive is very high like he's definitely not a hornball

z ⤖ zzz (how quickly does he sleep after?)

he sleeps when he knows you're comfortable! he will stay up all night if that is what it takes for you to be comfortable :C

2022 © jungwnies

254 notes · View notes

live-laugh-lenney · 6 months

Note

omg pls post the fic ! xx

and what about headcannons for a first date with arthur ?

it's been posted, lovely!

it went out last night but there's a link below, just in case you missed it when it went out. always love to hear what you guys think of my stuff so don't hesitate to reblog the shit out of it and send me your thoughts.

housewarming make-out | arthurtv

thank you so much for requesting this arthur headcannon - these are definitely something that i want to dabble more in on this blog! they are so much fun to work on. i'm always taking ideas and requests for these kinds of thing, too, so don't hesitate to spout your feels in my inbox. xx

F I R S T D A T E H E A D C A N N O N | a r t h u r t v |

-> he's so nervous about the whole thing.

-> he has no idea why he's so nervous because they're best friends. the bestest of best friends who almost spend every waking moment together. the two of them having known each other for a long while; but they've only just plucked up the courage to agree to a date with each other.

-> he wants the whole day to be perfect because he really likes yn and he really wants everything to work out between the two of them and he really wants to impress her with something out of the ordinary.

-> he meets her outside the museum because he didn't want to make it be known how excited he was to finally see her for their first date together, tickets held tightly in his hand, chewing on his bottom lip as he searches the faces that walk by him.

-> he's completely enamoured by her, as soon as he sees her walking up the steps to the entrance, unable to take his eyes away from her.

-> the weather is beautiful and he feels entirely underdressed when he sees her in such a gorgeous, autumnal outfit that he'd never seen her in before and rather liked to see her wearing; the colours complimenting her eyes and her skin so well.

-> he lets her lead the way the whole time; she's so excited to explore the whole museum and she loves how she gets to be with someone who wants to be there with her.

-> telling her interesting facts about the dinosaur bones they see, he throws around bits and pieces of information about the animals they see, he's full of knowledge on the insects they get to witness up close and personal, and he's so excited to take her around the space exhibit because he finds it the most interesting of all the museum has to offer them.

-> holding her close to his side when they experience the earthquake simulator.

-> holding her hand around the whole place and making idle chat as they go from room to room, never knowing what to expect next, and he loves to watch her eyes glow as she takes in her surroundings whenever they walk around the corner.

-> standing behind her when they come to a stop and holding her waist as they read the information panels ahead of each exhibit they come across. enjoying the silence as they take in the words before they start up a conversation about whatever had peaked an interest.

-> they know people recognise them (moreso, they recognise arthur) but neither of them care because he feels like the two of them are the only people in the world as they spend the afternoon in a place he's longed to take a significant other on a first date and he can't help but grin the whole time because it's finally happening.

-> and neither of them want the date to end and decide to go for some dinner and a few drinks to end the afternoon.

-> bumping into george clarke on the tube home and arthur can't help but gush over how well the date went and how good the museum was and yn just sits there and lets him talk and talk because there's something to endearing about seeing the guy she likes just being so happy in the moment.

-> and the night ends back at his flat.

-> wearing one of his jumpers and stretched over the sofa and tucked under a blanket, her knees brought to her chest and his arm over her shoulder, their restaurant dinner in takeaway boxes and left on his coffee table as they went back to pick at their leftovers, as they watch a film that he had been begging her to watch for a while.

-> soft kisses being shared, cuddles getting tighter and nothing more; taking it slow was how they wanted things to go, slow enough to enjoy every moment happening between the two of them.

#arthurtv headcannons #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv fics #arthurtv #youtuber headcannons #youtuber fics #youtuber imagines

56 notes · View notes

pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part nineteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you make some new friends.

a/n: this might be my favourite chapter yet. I had sooooooo much fun writing it, and finally touching on/adapting scenes from the show is bringing me so much joy I can’t wait to get to the meat of it, but the parts between now and then excite me too!!

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, if you’ve been reading up until now you know the drill, I’m getting lazy with my warnings LOL, no smut here, a bit of angst, F R I E N D S H I P

✨@friskito-library for new works and updates✨

Your days in the radio room have become more and more frequent, since your run-in with Gwen and her crew. It’s like you told Tess; with Hartford gone, you’d lost one of your more consistent meet-ups, and you needed to know what else was out there. You needed new connections, new friends, allies. You needed something. In case Boston went belly-up and needed to get the hell out of dodge and never look back, you needed a soft place to land.

Abe’s garnered quite the collection, over the years, and it’s like everywhere you look, there’s another wire connecting from one wall to the next, batteries that probably shouldn’t still work plugged into far too many devices. His map collection is something to write home about, and you spend some time trying to figure out the path Joel and Tommy took from Austin, but when your finger finds Cincinnati, your chest goes tight, and you return to the room Abe’s set up for just for you, branched off the main room he uses to send requested messages.

You’re still paying him with cigarettes, although some of them are the hand-rolled FEDRA shit that McCoy has a penchant for. The soldier’s other habits always seem to win, though, and you always have at least half a dozen for Abe, who’s quietly grateful, waving you off into the side room, closing the door behind you.

“I don’t wanna know,” he told you when you first asked. It’s been a while now, though you stopped for a while when Nick shot Joel, when you both needed time to recover. “Just do what you need to do, and leave me out of it, okay?”

“So you don’t want any more cigarettes?”

He pointed a finger at you. “I never said that.”

And here you are, one side of the big headphones pressed to your ear. The foam has definitely seen better days, but the sound is relatively clear. You’ve kept a notebook of your contacts, the frequencies they’re usually on, the days of the week and times they’re usually available. Today, you’ve gone through every single one, and no one is out there. So you’re just twisting the dials, the strange sound of the static and frequencies almost giving you a headache, but then—

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’, cuz I’ve built my life around you.

You haven’t heard that song in a long, long time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the last time you heard it was in Joel’s truck, in that field just outside of Austin, staring up at the stars. Fleetwood Mac has always been one of your favourites, and you slide the other side of the headphones over, encasing yourself in the song, shutting your eyes as the music crackles over the radio.

But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I’m getting older, too.

You can feel the song in your soul. It digs straight into your chest, the crooned lyrics wrapping around your heart and squeezing tight.

Oh, I’m getting older, too.

You let it wash over you, sinking back into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself, tilting your head back on your shoulders and making the cable connecting the headset to the radio stretch. You’ve found a few cassette tapes over the years — namely the same Led Zeppelin album you’d once given Joel for his truck — but you make a mental note to keep your eye out for Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks.

The song finishes, and you sigh, straightening in the chair, reaching out to turn off the radio, fingers brushing against the knob.

“If there’s anybody out there, my name is Frank. I’m on frequency 1462. We have resources, and we are looking to trade.”

He repeats himself again, and then another song starts. More Fleetwood, Go Your Own Way.

Well, shit.

Your fingers fly across the knobs, turning to the right frequency, wincing at the whine as it clicks on. You reach for the microphone.

“Hello?”

There’s a fraction of a pause before, “Oh my god, hi!”

If your years of smuggling have taught you anything, it’s that you can’t trust anybody right off the bat. You have to be wary, you have to be careful. Hell, there are still people you’ve traded with that you don’t trust as far as you can throw. It’s just the way things are.

But fuck, if he doesn’t have the kindest-sounding voice.

“Is this Frank?”

“It is!” he replies, his excitement somehow palpable through the radio waves. “Oh my god, I was starting to think no one was gonna hear that message.”

“It’s a good song,” you laugh, pulling the mic closer to you on the table. “Haven’t heard it in a long time.”

“It’s a classic,” he agrees, and there’s a slight pause before, “Okay, I’m gonna admit, I have no idea how to do this.”

“How to do…?”

“Make deals,” he says, “meet people over the radio. Have you done this before?”

You’re not quite sure how much truth you should offer a perfect stranger, regardless of how kind he sounds. If this is a FEDRA trap, chances are good you’ll be able to blackmail your way out of it. So you settle on, “Once or twice.”

“Am I allowed to know your name? Or is that not…?”

“It’s Liv,” you offer. “Where are you, Frank?”

He pauses again. “I’m not sure if I should…” You can hear the sudden hesitancy in his tone; you know it well.

“Why don’t I tell you how I normally do this?”

“That would be perfect.”

“You tell me what you have to offer, I tell you what I have to trade. We settle on terms, pick a meeting spot and a date, and that’s that. You don’t kill me or my people, I don’t kill you or yours, and we part ways with what we’ve bargained for. Simple.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“But before we get into that, can we at least make sure we’re in the same state? I try not to cross the borders if I can manage it.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” he agrees. “We’re in Massachusetts.”

“Good,” you nod, reaching for your notebook and pen, scrawling Frank’s name on your page, along with the frequency number. “So are we.”

“Coast?”

“Pretty close.”

“Good.”

“So we’re in the same state,” you say, tapping the pen against the paper. “What are you offering to trade, Frank?”

“Tell me something first,” he prompts, and your brow lifts slowly. “How long do your…relationships with traders usually last?”

Your throat bobs, Gwen’s screaming voice echoing through your head, but you shove it away. “Depends. As long as everyone holds up their end of the deal, there’s no real time limit.”

“What’s the longest you’ve traded with someone?”

“There’s a group in Providence I’ve been trading with since 2008. Never had any issues there.”

“Uh-huh, good to know. The thing is, what I’m proposing here, it might not be the same as the other deals you’ve made. We’re well-protected here. My partner, Bill, he’s…he’s a survivalist, and he’s built this place to last. We’re not going anywhere fast, we’re sustainable.”

“Meaning you wouldn’t come to the city,” you say, catching on, and now you’re the one feeling hesitant. “Depending how far out you are, it might not be worth it to us. There’d have to be something worth the risk each time, and I don’t—”

“Freshly cooked meals,” he says, and you stop dead. “Fresh vegetables. Wine, the good kind. New clothes, building materials, and weap—”

“Stop,” you say quickly, cutting him off. “I only trust the radio so far. Give me coordinates, and a date, and we go from there.”

He gives you the coordinates, you scribble the numbers down, and decide on a date, three days from today. You say your goodbyes, and you tell him not to get back on the radio until you’ve met, but to keep playing the music, so you know everything is still a-go. “You like Fleetwood Mac?”

“I love Fleetwood Mac.”

“Then you and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You can’t help the smile in your voice. “I’ve got a good feeling about this, Frank.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, I’ll see you soon, I guess.”

“See you soon. Oh, and Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe.”

It catches you off guard, makes something crawl up the back of your throat.“Thanks, Frank. You too.”

You dial to a different frequency the moment you’re done, shutting down the radio entirely, and leave without a word. Abe doesn’t so much as glance at you as you head out, past the long string of people waiting patiently for him to send their messages.

Joel’s home before you are, which is a shock.

His back is killing him. Tommy’s skipped out on every single one of his jobs lately, and Joel feels like every time he turns a corner, there’s something else that needs repairs, another new face asking him to fix something. His hands hurt, he’s got a kink in his neck, and all he really wants to do is fall into bed and have your body curled against his.

He sighs as he gets through the door, brow pinching when he doesn’t find you perched at the table or sitting on the couch, head bent over your maps or flipping through your notebooks. It’s become habit for you lately, wanting to build up your connections more and more, now that Hartford is gone.

The guilt over the entire situation lingers in the back of Joel’s mind, a nagging voice that sounds suspiciously like his brother.

Joel shakes the thought away. He did what he had to, to protect you. To protect his wife, his family.

He did what he had to.

Locking the door behind him, he tosses his makeshift tool bag — a ratty backpack he found at the donation hall before it shut down — into the corner, and flops onto the couch. He slings his hand over his eyes. He’ll just close them for a minute, just until you’re home, until you’re…

A nightmare latches onto him with a vice-like grip, throws him fully out of sleep with a gasp, his chest heaving.

“Joel?” your voice calls, a soft echo across the apartment, and he turns to see you perched in one of the kitchen chairs, pencil between your teeth, your hair falling in your eyes. “Baby, you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, swinging his legs off the couch, getting to his feet with a groan. He rubs at his lower back as he pads over to the kitchen, coming to stand behind you. He leans forward and plants both hands on the table either side of you, leaning down until he can fit his chin into the curve of your neck, planting soft kisses at your pulse.

“Fine, now that you’re home,” he mumbles, and you lean back into him slightly, turning your head so you can kiss at his, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. “You were out late.”

“I’ve been home for hours,” you reply, huffing a laugh, setting the pencil on the table. Your maps are all spread out, the big one of Massachusetts on the top. “You’ve been asleep the entire time. Didn’t wanna wake you.”

Joel drags one hand off the table, moves his arm so it’s slung around your chest, curling his fingers around your rib cage. “How nice of you.”

“Best wife ever,” you say, and Joel laughs into your skin. “Oh, and there’s dinner for you. Abe’s wife sent me home with food as thank you for fixing their door the other day.”

“What is it?”

“Something with Spam in it,” you tell him, and Joel wrinkles his nose. “It tastes better than it looks.”

“Noted,” he grumbles, pressing one last kiss to your throat before he straightens, spine creaking as he goes. “Fuck, I’m getting old.”

“I think the grey in your beard suits you,” you answer, turning back to your maps, “just for the record.”

The corner of his mouth quirks as he heads for the fridge, fishing out the plate of food and leaning against the counter. “How was your day, baby?”

Your pencil drops again, and you push your chair back, the legs squeaking against the floor. You turn yourself towards him fully, slowly getting to your feet, taking a step towards him. “I made a friend.”

Joel’s brow quirks. You know a lot of people in the QZ, that much he knows for certain, but he’s really not sure how many of them you would refer to as friends. “Oh?”

“On the radio. His name is Frank.” You turn back to the maps, eyes raking over the paper, your finger finding a spot marked with pencil. “He lives in Lincoln, and we’re gonna go see him in three days.”

He nearly drops the plate. “What?”

“I mapped out the path. It’s a bit of a hike, almost five hours outside of Boston, but—”

“Ten miles?” Joel repeats, and you just nod. “Liv, we’ve barely been outside the city limits, and you wanna hike ten miles to some random stranger?”

“Frank,” you say, your tone almost petulant, and Joel puts the plate down. “They have food, Joel. Real food, not bullshit QZ rations. Wine, weapons, building materials. New clothes. This could be good for us, Joel. Really good.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “You want me to hike five hours for wine?”

“I want you to hike ten miles for a chance at something good, Joel. Something new.” Your gaze drops and you knot your hands together. “Something to make up for what we did, maybe. Somehow. I don’t know. I just…I feel good about this, baby. And it’s just a meeting, to start. I didn’t promise him anything, just that we’d meet, and we’d talk. Then we go from there.”

Something in your voice tugs at him, and for a moment, Joel’s not quite sure what it is, but then it hits him.

It’s hope. It’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded in a long time, and when you take another step toward him, he opens his arms to you.

“The route will take us right past Cumberland Farms,” you continue, and Joel cups your hip in his palm, letting out a quiet oomph as you lean against him, reaching up to twine your arms around your neck. “We can stop there first, stash some stuff just in case.”

“A safety net,” Joel says, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“You were asleep for a long time,” you reply, and Joel just scoffs, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Wait,” you pull back, moving one hand to the middle of his chest, pushing lightly. “Is that a yes?”

“Well, I’m not about to let you go by yourself now, am I?”

It’s a long fucking hike.

Thankfully, it’s relatively easy. The path you’d chosen isn’t overly adventurous, no daunting hills or thick forests. It’s mostly open air, rolling fields, forests either side of the roads. The weather is beautiful, which is a plus, though you can feel the sweat pouring down your back as you walk, on the right side of Joel, as always.

You recount the entire conversation you had with Frank to Joel as you walk. Tess had offered to come with you, too, but you decided the two of you would go for the first meeting, and if things worked out, then you’d all go together the next time. You could tell part of her was relieved, and she admitted to you later she had plans to see Robin the same day you were going.

“You got instinct, baby,” Joel tells you after you’ve finished the story, your fingers twined together as he pulls you out of the path of a fallen telephone wire in the middle of the road. “Don’t forget that. I’ve seen it; you know what you’re doing. And if you feel good about this, then I’m game. We see what happens. And if anyone tries to lay a hand on you—”

“Hit ‘em real fuckin’ hard with my bat.”

He grins. “That’s my girl.”

The praise makes your chest warm, and when he’s close enough, you slide yourself against him, slipping your arm around his waist, tugging his around your shoulders. “Your wife is a badass, Joel Miller,” you say, and he barks a laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “In case you weren’t aware.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” he says, his brows lifting. “Believe me, I’m aware. It’s fuckin’ hot. Only reason I married you.”

Now you’re the one that laughs, sliding your hand into his back pocket and squeezing his ass through his jeans. “Jackass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, and squeezes your shoulder, turning his head to kiss the top of your head. “Liv, baby?”

“Mmm?”

“When we get back to Boston, I’m gonna try and talk to Tommy. Make peace or somethin’.”

You nearly stop dead in your tracks. In fact, if Joel wasn’t still walking with his arm around you, you might have fallen over. But you don’t let your shock be known, schooling your face as neutral as possible while letting one brow raise. “Oh, really?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and I just…He’s my baby brother. He’s a fuckin’ idiot, and he’s gonna get himself killed, but he’s family. And we keep going for family, so I gotta fix it. Somehow.”

Slowly, you nod. “You think he’s gonna tell the Fireflies about me?”

“I’ll break his fuckin’ nose if he does.”

“Joel.” You smack at his chest. “That’s not how you fix it.”

“I know, I know. It’s…” Joel shakes his head. “I want to believe he won’t. I really do.”

“So talk to him,” you say with a nod. “See what happens, go from there, and please, just don’t fucking hit each other.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You continue on, the sun beating down on your every step. There’s not much more conversation, but the silence is easy, a comfort. Joel doesn’t let you wander far, you eventually step out of his grip but your hands are still linked together.

Your stop at Cumberland Farms is brief. In the early days, you brought a stash box to the gas station, tucked it below one of the floor panels. You and Joel mostly empty your packs into the box, some ammunition, a spare knife, food that’ll last a good while. A backup. You pull one of the long-empty freezers over the panel, try to make the trash and debris cover it up, just to be safe. Joel gives you a nod of approval, and then you keep going.

Eventually, the tree-lined road gives way to open space. More hills, dips in the earth. Far in the distance, you see a plane broken in half on the hilltop — an emergency landing gone wrong — and your stomach rolls at the thought of what’s still up there.

But then you turn another corner, and it’s even worse.

Beside you, you hear Joel’s quiet shock. “What in the…?”

You grip his hand tighter, pushing yourself against him, tearing your eyes from the sight before you. “I thought he was lying.”

Joel’s head whips in your direction. “What? Who? You knew about this?”

You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat. “Early days, after the outbreak. Like, the week after, FEDRA swept through the small towns and evacuated them. Told people they were going to a QZ. And they were, if there was room. If not…” You tilt your head towards the pit.

“How did you know? You’ve been out this way?”

“Never this far,” you answer, shaking your head. “Nick, he…he told me about it.” Joel stiffens, and you squeeze his arm. “He wasn’t part of it, but he knew soldiers that were. It wasn’t just here; it was all over. Across the country. Who fucking knows how many people FEDRA killed.”

“I just don’t get why.”

“Better dead than infected.”

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, and pulls you closer, turning you away from it. Not that it makes a difference; you know you’ll be seeing the half-buried skeletons, the scraps of clothing and the scattered belongings, in the back of your mind for a long time. “Maybe there’s a path through the forest.”

You shake your head. “Just keep going.”

“Liv—”

“Keep going, Joel.”

So you do. You try to bury the sight, try to push it away, try to focus on where you’re going instead.

It’s like you turn the corner, and all of a sudden, there’s a town right in front of you. A small town, to be sure, a handful of buildings, some that have seen better days, and when your eyes land on the nine-foot metal fence around the perimeter, Frank’s wavy voice on the radio echoes through your head.

We’re well-protected here.

He sure as hell wasn’t lying.

As you approach the fence, Joel situates himself in front of you, his expression wary, an arm held out, protector mode on. You get closer, and suddenly it strikes you that you have no idea what Frank looks like. You have no idea who you’re looking for.

But you’re pretty sure it’s not the large bearded man with the giant fucking gun pointed at your head.

Instantly, you’ve both got your hands in the air, Joel still a half step in front of you. “What do you want?” the man barks, lifting the gun a little higher, switching between aiming the barrel at your head and at Joel’s.

“We’re here to see Frank,” you say instantly, nearly tripping over the words. “I’m Liv, this is Joel. I spoke to Frank on the radio.”

“Oh my fucking…Bill, put the gun down!” another, strangely familiar voice shouts, and over the larger man’s — Bill’s — shoulder, you see a slightly smaller man, a touch taller than Bill, but thinner, his hair shorter, his beard a little more well-kept. He’s got a dishrag over his shoulder, and as he jogs up to Bill, pushing his partner aside and reaching for the gate before you, he grins at you.

The gun is lowered, but as Frank pulls the gate open, Bill pulls out the same bio-scanner machine you’ve seen FEDRA soldiers toting around back in the QZ, and your heart sinks into your toes.

“Would you put that thing away?” Frank chides, waving at Bill, beaming at you now as you take a hesitant step towards the now-open gate. “You must be Liv.”

His smile is infectious, and as Bill stows the scanner, your excitement returns. “Hi, Frank.”

“Come in, come in!” he says, and reaches for your hand, tugging you through. “You guys are just in time; lunch is almost ready. Right, Bill?”

“…yes.”

Joel’s a half step behind you now, his hand finding the small of your back as you walk through the gate completely. Bill sniffs as you step past, and closes the gate behind you both, hitting a keypad that emits a loud beep, the heavy sound of magnets slamming together.

You’re at a loss for words as you follow Frank down the street. It looks so…normal. So alive, so lived in. You’ve become so accustomed to abandoned buildings and broken windows; to be around buildings that look well taken care of, a house that looks like it belongs to someone, you’re at a loss.

“This place is beautiful,” you manage to say, picking up your pace to keep up with Frank. “It looks so…”

“Normal?” Frank asks, and you just nod, giving a little laugh. “Cookie-cutter? I know. It’s definitely grown on me.”

“You weren’t always here?”

“Oh, no, not always. It’s been about…three years now? Something like that?” He waves a hand. “We can talk more about that stuff over lunch. You two must be starving.”

You turn another corner, and the most beautiful house stands before you. Two stories, perfect white picket fence out front, planters filled with flowers lining the walkways, the hedges and lawn neatly trimmed. A US flag sticks out from the front of the house, the fabric billowing in the warm breeze, and you nearly topple over when you see the patio furniture set out, four chairs around a table, each place already set, wine in the middle, glasses at each spot.

You and Joel are frozen in place, but Frank continues on, stepping through the small gate in the fence and walking towards the table. Bill stalks past you, heading into the house, and Frank waves you on. “Come! Sit!”

Joel’s hand pushes against your back, his voice low in your ear. “You still feelin’ good about this?”

“Very,” you reply, and let him propel you forward slightly, unable to wipe the grin on your face as you walk towards the table.

You take a seat, Joel sliding into the chair next to you, and Frank produces a bottle of wine, filling the glass in front of you. Joel gives a little nod as Frank fills his glass, and you’ll be the first to admit you reach for the glass quickly, taking a long sip that tastes like heaven. You’ve never been a huge wine drinker; you indulged every once in a while before — the occasional glass if you were out for dinner, and your mom had a penchant for rosé — but this is good fucking wine.

“How long did it take you guys?” Frank asks as he fills his own glass, then the empty seat for Bill. “Easy travels I hope?”

“‘Bout five hours,” Joel answers as you take another sip. “No Infected, and the weather’s good.”

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Frank says, still beaming at you, and you’re smiling into your wine. “We’ll eat first, and then I’ll show you two around. Bill’s a bit…hesitant about the whole thing, but he’ll come around. He’s a big softie.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly. “Sort of.”

As if on cue, the front door opens, and Bill appears, calling Frank’s name. The taller man rises, jogging towards the door and when he turns back, he has two plates of food in his hands. It’s fine china, piled with steaming veggies and pieces of meat, actual fucking gravy and Bill has a bowl of dinner rolls tucked in the crook of his arm.

Frank sets a plate down in front of you, and for a second, you honestly feel like you could cry. “Oh my god, thank you.” Bill hands the other two plates to Frank, then disappears towards the house. Frank goes to follow, but then waves his hand at his partner’s back.

“He can handle the salad himself.” He settles into the seat across from you, gestures to the plate you’re still staring at. “Go ahead, eat! There’s more too, if you’re still hungry after.”

Joel wastes no time, but you wait for Bill to return, saying your thanks when he hands you a bowl of salad that looks fresh from the garden. Your mouth is watering. He just gives you a curt nod, sinks into the chair opposite of Joel, and pulls a handgun from the holster on his leg, setting it beside his plate. A warning, and you see Joel’s eyes dart to it before he glances at you. You sip your wine again, your hand finding Joel’s thigh beneath the table.

“Well, this is just incredible,” you say, breaking the awkward silence that’s settled. “Honestly, it’s just…it’s amazing, truly.”

“Right?” Frank agrees, giving you an almost conspiratorial grin. He picks up the wine bottle from the table, gestures to your glass. “Refill?”

“Please,” you say, holding your glass out.

Frank side-eyes Bill as he picks up the gun, pulling back the hammer with a quiet click. “Could you not, please? They’re our guests.”

Joel stares at the gun for a long moment before, “I’m the same way.”

“Oh, you’re a paranoid schizophrenic, too?” Frank asks, and you have to stifle your chuckle, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t spit wine.

Bill rolls his eyes. “I’m not a schizophrenic.”

Bill and Joel share another glance, and you take another sip of wine before clearing your throat. “Well, I just wanna say, uh, gun aside — which I get, for the record.” You squeeze Joel’s leg beneath the table. “You’re protecting your family. But this is just so nice, and so appreciated, to have a meal like this, in such a beautiful place. It’s been so long since things felt normal, and this…even if we don’t end up working together, I just…thank you. Both of you.”

Frank meets your eyes, holding his glass towards you. “We are working together.”

“We haven’t even—” you start, but before you can finish your sentence, Frank sets down his glass for a moment and gets to his feet, reaching for his glass and the bottle again.

“You know what?” he says, giving you a grin. “Let’s go inside. Liv, I wanna show you something.”

You feel Joel’s eyes slide back to you, his brow furrowed deeply, and you squeeze his leg one more time before you’re getting up. “Actually, I’m dying to see the inside.”

“Let’s go,” Frank continues, ignoring Bill’s protests. “Bring your wine.” As you follow him towards the house, he pauses to let you catch up, turning to you. “Like I said, he’ll come around, he just…takes a while.”

You can’t help your chuckle. “Reminds me of Joel.”

As you step inside the house, you’re at a loss for words. Antique furniture, beautiful paintings, and it feels like a home. A stark contrast to your apartment back in Boston, which has felt more and more like just a place to keep your stuff. Especially since Joel showed up; wherever he was, that was home.

You dance your fingers across the piano keys as Frank turns towards the dining room, a large mahogany table taking up most of the space, matching chairs, an old grandfather clock, a covered desk. You don’t have enough of a musical ear to know if the piano is still in tune or not, but then Frank calls your name, and you wander over, sipping your wine as you go, careful not to let it spill.

“This place is amazing,” you comment, and Frank grins, turning to rifle through one of the desk drawers. “Did you and Bill find this place? I’m shocked it’s in such good condition.”

“No, Bill has always lived here,” Frank answers, still searching for something. “I was heading for Boston, after the Baltimore QZ fell. There were ten of us originally, but by the time I ended up here, I was the only one left.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, almost a reflex, and Frank waves you off. “So, you and Bill…you found each other, in the middle of all this?”

He finds what he’s looking for, something concealed in his hand as he pushes the drawer shut, and the grin on his face as he straightens to look at you makes your chest warm. He’s just so charming, kindness radiating off of him in waves. You’re not used to it.

“We did,” he says with a nod, an almost dreamy look in his eye. “It’s hopelessly romantic, isn’t it? Must be the artist in me. And you should have seen this place when I first got here. At least an inch of dust everywhere you looked.”

“Bill’s not much a cleaner?”

“He’s practical, but he forgets to pay attention to things sometimes. But he’s learning.” He smiles. “We all are.”

You scoff a little laugh. “That’s a good way to put it.”

Frank holds the thing he’d fished out of the desk to you. “For you.”

Your jaw drops. Fleetwood Mac. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he laughs, putting the cassette tape in your hands. “It’s yours. Landslide is on side B.”

“Frank, I can’t—”

“You can,” he presses, chuckling at your protest. “A token of appreciation for travelling this far to meet with us.” Before you can refuse, Frank turns, refilling his glass where he’d set it on the table and sinking into one of the chairs. “Now, tell me how this works.”

The majority of the afternoon is spent following Frank around, him showing you the numbered but incredible sights Lincoln has to offer. It feels like stepping into a history book in the best kind of way, and that feeling of normalcy, the white picket fence only adds to it.

“So, how long have you and Joel been you and Joel?” Frank asks. You’re in the clothing boutique, poking through the racks of clothes. Frank told you to pick out an outfit, and you’re taking your choices very seriously, your mind torn between desperately wanting something cute while knowing you need something practical.

“Hah. It’s, uh, complicated?” you reply, your voice hitching on the word. You rub the sleeve of a green sweater between your fingers, savouring the softness. “We knew each other before the outbreak.”

Over the top of the rack, you can see Frank make a face. “That doesn’t sound that complicated.”

Before you know it, you’ve told him everything. It throws you, to trust someone this quickly. But, he invited you into his home, trusted you not to turn on him and his partner, his family. And that warmth he seems to radiate, it just adds to it all, making you feel like you’ve known him much longer than you have.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” he says after you’ve given him the whole story. “So you were together in 2001, then you moved to Boston, then shit hits the fan, you’re still in Boston, and Joel shows up five years later with his brother and another woman?”

You nod, flicking through a rack to find a pair of black jeans in your size. “Yes, Tommy and Tess.”

“And Joel and Tess were a thing when they first got to Boston?”

“Yes.”

“Then Tess broke it off with Joel, and you two got back together? And she’s one of your closest friends?”

You nod again. “Yes.”

“And Tommy is…?”

You sigh. “Tommy is even more complicated. I think I’d need another bottle of wine before I even start talking about Tommy.”

Frank grins. “All the more incentive for you to come back.”

“As if I’m not already convinced.”

Outside the boutique, you can hear Joel calling your name. You glance at your watch. “Shit. We probably need to start heading back.”

“Take those,” Frank says, gesturing to the jeans in your hands. He has the green sweater you’ve decided on in his hands. “I told Bill to pack up some food for you too.”

You head out of the boutique and towards the gate, and as you approach, Joel and Bill walk out of the house, Joel’s bag slung over his shoulder, looking a bit fuller than it had when you arrived. He hands you your own bag, and Frank hands you the sweater as you crouch down to stuff the clothes in your bag. “You’re sure about this?” you ask, pulling the Fleetwood Mac cassette out of your back pocket.

“Of course,” Frank answers. “Don’t think of it as a gift. You’ll come back in a few weeks, and we’ll trade.

“We will. And I’ll bring Tess, like I said.”

“Oh,” he continues, glancing over his shoulder at Joel and Bill, who have stopped a good ten feet behind you, “and I had this idea, that we should use codes for the radio. Y’know, just in case someone’s listening. I know you were worried, the first time we talked.”

You nod. “That’s a great idea. What kind of code are you thinking?”

“Music,” he grins. “Sixties, seventies, eighties. We’ve got this book on Billboard hits we could give you. Sixties if there’s nothing new, seventies if we’ve got something new, eighties if there’s trouble.”

“Eighties for trouble,” you repeat, nodding again. “I like that.”

“Good,” Frank says, and you get to your feet. “I gotta say, Liv, I felt good about this before, but now? It’s nice, so nice, to have new friends.” He reaches out, puts his hand on your arm. “And yes, before you try and deny it. That’s what we are.”

You can’t help your grin. “Friends.”

He grins back. “Friends.”

Joel and Bill have been talking the entire time you have, and when you glance back, you see Joel heading toward you, squinting in the sunlight. “Ready?” he asks as he comes to stand beside you, his hand finding the small of your back again, and you nod. He turns to Frank. “Thank you, for the lunch, and for…” He trails off, gesturing to you. “We needed this.”

Joel and Frank shake hands, and after, Frank pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders. “See you soon.”

You get back to the QZ late. You’re both exhausted, worn out by the hiking and the sun and the abundance of food. You’re both drooling over the leftovers Bill and Frank sent you home with, and as soon as you’re through the door to the apartment, Joel pulls out one of the containers, and you eat it with your fingers standing over the sink, both of you laughing at the absurdity of your day.

The next morning, Joel goes looking for Tommy.

Unsurprisingly, his brother has skipped out on his job for the umpteenth time, so as soon as morning curfew has passed, Joel heads into the city, and starts combing the buildings he knows are Firefly hideouts. The third building he’s poking around, and he’s stopped by a woman. She seemingly materializes out of the alleyway, arms crossed over her chest, dark hair tied back. She calls him by name, and Joel freezes.

“You won’t find him,” she says, her voice deeper than Joel is anticipating. “Tommy’s not here.”

Joel turns slowly, regards the woman as she steps out of the alley. She’s dressed the same as everybody else is, clothes that have seen better days, boots wrapped with duct tape. “You must be Marlene.”

“Guilty,” she answers.

“Where’s my brother?”

She looks down at the pavement, digs her toe into the asphalt. “Tommy left this morning.”

Joel’s stomach twists. “Left? What d’you mean, left?”

“I stationed him at our base in Minneapolis,” she says, and Joel’s heart stutters. “He left with a few other men this morning.”

His hands clench into fists. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“I know how you feel about the Fireflies, Joel,” Marlene continues, and the edges of Joel’s vision tinge red. “Tommy told me. And I understand why you would have your…reservations. But your brother just wants to do some good.”

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” Joel spits. “Is that what you told him? That blowing shit up and killing soldiers was good?”

“We’re doing more than that,” Marlene starts, “and Tommy understands that. He knows what he signed up for.”

“Does he?” he replies, and his voice is climbing. There’s a handful of people out on the sidewalks, and some throw glances in his direction. “You turned him against his family. Against his own brother.”

“I didn’t turn him against you, Joel. Tommy made a choice.”

Joel shakes his head. He’s shaking with anger, confusion, fear — every emotion crawled up the back of his throat and making a home there. “That’s a load of shit.”

Marlene digs in her pocket and extends a folded piece of paper toward him. “This is the radio frequency for the base in Minneapolis. Give it a day or two, then try and get through. I know your wife works the radios, she shouldn’t have any problem reaching him.”

He just stares at her, eyes darting between her face and the piece of paper. But finally, the desperation that’s been added to the mix wins out, and he snatches the paper. “If he dies, it’s on you. I’m not responsible for what happens after that.”

“If he dies, I’ll await your wrath, Joel.”

Before he can do anything more, she turns on her heel and disappears, leaving Joel in the alleyway, alone.

PREV | NEXT

🍓in case tumblr eats the ending🍓

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

246 notes · View notes

pedrotonin · 11 months

Text

Paring: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: explicit 18+

Summary: Joel agrees to take you to Jackson. Those damn canned peaches are everywhere.

Wordcount: 2k

A/N: as always: English is not my first language. If you spot any bad mistakes, please feel free to contact me!

《 r e a d p a r t 1 h e r e 》

Turns out you were quite close to Jackson when everything went to shit. Joel had let you lead the both of you away from it without your knowledge, resulting in now having to walk the same route back again. In near silence, because Joel doesn't do small talk. He only talks when absolutely necessary, only answers your questions when he deems them worthy enough to answer. Still, it's a hell of a lot better than before; where he was cuffed and you had to wave your gun around to remind him you were the one in charge. In hindsight he probably had the upper hand even then, but you try not to think about that too much. You're still alive, that's all that matters.

He knows these woods, you can tell by the way he confidently walks in front of you. He also walks a lot faster now, and you have to swallow your tongue to not make a remark about that fact. His rifle's on his back, meaning there's no real danger in sight. His presence somehow makes you feel safe. Your eyes wander to his broad back, down, to his jeans clad ass. The fabric pulling tight around it with every step he takes. It's a nice ass to stare at, but your gaze wonders down, to his thighs, thick, muscular, strong. Your ears focus on the sounds leaving his mouth. Groans, sighs, huffs, he's a little out of breath. While listening, you picture him above you, making those same noises, doing something entirely different than walking. Your mouth starts watering, blood rushes south. You remember the way your fingers disappeared between his lips and how he su-

"We're here." He suddenly stops and you walk straight into his broad back. It's like walking into a brick wall and you bounce back by the force of it. He cast an annoyed look over his shoulder before entering the little wooden cabin that somehow appeared out of nowhere. Embarrassed by your own clumsiness, you mumble a quiet "sorry", before following him inside. The cabin is mostly empty, just a matress on a few concrete blocks and two wooden stumps, serving as makeshift chairs. Joel lifts one of them and reveals some canned food, a gun, and a map. He answers you before you can voice your question.

"It's a hide out, for when something happens during patrol, like raiders, bad weather...you."

"Funny," you roll your eyes at him. "So we're going to spent the night here?" you eye the single mattress. It's not particularly big and you can't imagine having to lay next to him, so....close to eachother.

He follows your gaze and shrugs, "you're welcome to sit on these stumps all night." He opens a can of peaches and takes a sip before he reaches it towards you. Taking a few pieces you look at him while pushing them inside your mouth. His eyes are glued to your lips, his own mouth slightly ajar. You chew slowly, letting your tongue collect the remaining juice on your lips. Does he remember what happened as vividly as you do? You shudder as you put a finger against your lips. Maybe he-

He suddenly clears his throat, looks away and walks towards the matress. Letting himself fall in the middle of it. You let out a sigh and decide to stay put...maybe you read him all wrong.

"So...Jackson," you start. He closes his eyes and sighs. "Are they just...going to welcome me there? Is there a place for me to live? Do you have your own house? Do you....live alone?"

He rubs his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "So many questions, woman, jesus. Yes, they are going to welcome you, as long as you're going in there with me. Housing...don't know. And no, I don't live alone." He looks at you, challenging you to ask him about that last statement, but you don't. You don't even want to know. Makes sense though, a handsome guy like him having someone waiting for him at home. Shame.

"Are there many people?"

"Quite a few, yes."

"Men and women?"

"...and children."

Children? Wow, you haven't seen a child in quite some time. Maybe he has one waiting for him at home. Maybe he has a whole family waiting.

"You have children Joel?"

He doens't answer you right away, but after a few minutes of silence, he surprises you with a soft "No."

Ah, just a woman then. Fuck it, you are too nosy to let it rest.

"So, you have a woman waiting for you then?"

He snorts, but doesn't answer you and you decide not to push it any further.

After an hour or so, his soft snores start filling the room. You were studying the map, but your eyes start to close on their own, head lulling forward. It's no use, you're too tired to stay awake. You stumble towards the bed and sit on the edge, the movement waking Joel. He rolls away from you, and you lie down with your back towards him. Sleep comes fast.

When you wake it's still dark out. The soft snores next to you indicate Joel's still asleep. You haven't moved during the night, you're back's still towards him. Your shoulder is aching, so you carefully turn around, not wanting to wake him. He apparently did move, because you're both facing each other now. His soft breath fanning your face. Moonlight fills the cabin and you can just make out his features. He looks different during sleep, younger. His scowl gone and his mouth not set in a thin line, you notice he has quite lush lips.

The lower one a bit pouty, the upper one has a nice shaped cupids bow. Would he kill you if you'd kiss him? Probably. Your hand moves on it's own accord though, hovering right in front of his face. You let your index finger gently touch his lower lip, tracing it. You're mesmerized by it, the shape, the color, the way its slightly moist. You lean into him, slowly letting your tongue trace his lower lip, letting it slide against his uppe-

He grabs your wrist, twisting it and with a loud growl he has you on your stomach. He's on top of you, his whole weight pushing you down into the mattress. "It's me! Joel! It's me!" you shout into the fabric, hoping he hears you.

One of his hands comes to rest on top of your head, pushing it down. "Fuck!" he breathes hotly against your ear.

"Joel, it's me," you try again.

He takes a few deep breaths before he finally speaks. "Scared me there for a sec, little bird," he whispers. He's so close, his body deliciously heavy on top of yours. He doesn't move and you wriggle around to get some much needed air into your lungs. That's when you feel it, the outline of it, of him, pressed against your lower back. You arch your body, wanting to feel more, but he instantly pulls away, hovering above you. You almost pout at the loss, but then he pushes forward again. You feel it, hard against your ass, as he inhales sharply, right next to your ear. His thigh comes to rest between your legs and you want nothing more than to grind down on it. Somehow he senses your need, pushing it firm against your pussy as you moan loudly.

"Damnit," Joel rasps somewhere above you, before pushing his thigh against you again. And again. And again.

You mewl and writhe underneath him and the hand on your face releases you as he slides it down."Tell me you want this," his hand now sliding achingly slow against the inside of your thighs.

"Yes," you whimper, and it's all he needs to hear before he cups your entire mound in his hand. The pressure causing your cunt to clench around nothing, pleasure shooting up your spine. You roll your hips while he feels you through your jeans, his fingers slide against you from top to bottom, somehow finding your clit through layers of clothing. "Yesss," you hiss again, while your hand reaches back to feel him. It lands against the back of his head and you grab his hair, yanking hard. It causes him to put more of his weight on you, almost crushing his own hand. He leans forward, both of his hands coming to rest above your head, his elbows next to your face. His hips start to grind against your ass, dry fucking you. It feels so, so good. You look at his strong forearms resting next to your head. His fingers grab the mattress, knuckles turning white. For a man who doens't talk a lot, he sure is vocal now.

"F-fuck, you feel s-so good."

"Feel how hard you make me, sugar?"

"Christ, such a perfect ass."

He doesn't stop, whispering and hissing filthy things into your ear and you love it. God, you love it. You gush into your panties while you desperately wriggle beneath him. Unlike him, you completely lost your ability to speak. Holding himself up on one of his arms, the other sneaks beneath your again, inside your jeans, right into your soaking wet panties.

"Jesus, so wet. All for me, sweet girl?" his fingers slide through your lips. Dipping into your center briefly before settling on your clit, tapping it lightly. It doesn't take long before you feel the first signs of your orgasm start to form low in your belly.

"Please," you whimper pathetically.

"Please what? Use your words," his fingers leave your clit as he waits for your answer.

"Please, p-lease put your fingers insi-

He thrusts two of them inside you. You're so wet, there's zero resistance. "S-so tight, fuuuck," his fingers start a brutal rhythm as his hips grind against your ass. You didn't think it possible for you to come this fast. It always takes you quite some time before you reach your high. But with a crook of his fingers, he touches a place inside you that makes you see stars and just like that, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Gushing around his fingers, you scream into the matress. Your body shakes with the force of it, toes curling inside your boots. He continues grinding his cock against you, while his fingers are still inside your pulsating heat. He lowers his face against yours, his mouth against your ear, breathing hard. When the last after shocks of your orgasm subside, he takes his fingers and pushes them inside his mouth. You watch as he sucks them, tasting you. His eyes close and an incredibly low moan leaves him as he suddenly stills. You keep looking at his face while he comes; his eyes close, his mouth opens. Fuck, he's so attractive like this, you wish it would last forever. Alas it doesn't and he collapses next to you on the bed. One of his arms comes up to cover his face while he groans. You just lay there, staring at him. Is he regretting this already? You think about what he said: "no, I don't live alone."

He removes his arm and turns away from you without saying another word.

When you wake again, the bed is empty. You find him sitting on one of the wooden stumps, his head resting on one of his hands, turning towards you when he hears you move. His face remains passive, you have no idea what he's thinking.

"Let's go."

It's all you get before he walks out of the cabin.

-------

@strawberri-blonde @orcasoul

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal fanfic #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

81 notes · View notes

helpimstuckposting · 4 months

Text

Advice

Song: Advice by Cavetown

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Playlist

A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z

—

Eddie wasn’t unfamiliar with bad days. In fact, he’d say he was intimately familiar with them. Biblically, even, since they’d fucked him so often. And usually he was able to adjust, to improvise, to calm down and save any serious outbursts for the privacy of his own bedroom. Or van, depending on how truly awful the day was.

Today, he didn’t make it to his room, or to the van. Instead, he walked right out of his last class of the day and trudged straight to the picnic table in the woods behind the school. He figured he had around twenty minutes to get his anger out before someone tramped along looking to buy weed. He was too wired to sit, so he set his little black lunchbox on the table, and started pacing back and forth to try and relieve some pent up energy.

He was off to a rough start from the second his alarm went off. Or didn’t go off, in the case of that morning. Somehow, the stupid electricity in the trailer had gone out at some point in the middle of the night and reset the clocks, making Eddie an hour late to the start of his day. He’d skipped breakfast, and forgot his smokes in the process which meant that all of his teachers were more unbearable than usual.

Then, he skipped lunch to run across the street and buy a pack from the convenience store to take the edge off, but apparently his dad was in town because the man behind the counter had called him Junior with that face people made when they treated him like shit splattered across their shoes. If Al was in town that meant either he hadn’t bothered to check in on his son, or Wayne was keeping it from him and both options pissed Eddie off.

On top of that, Mrs. Click had lost his essay and then claimed he’d never turned it in which was bullshit because Eddie knew for a fact he’d turned it in on time, he’d stayed up all night writing it. In between classes, someone had graffitied “Satanist Freak” on his locker, which normally wouldn’t bother Eddie at all but then he’d gotten yelled at to clean it up, like anyone would think he wrote it himself. The authority figures in this batshit town were driving him insane.

As if that weren’t fucking enough Tommy goddamn Hagan (who Eddie was pretty sure had written the little love letter on his locker) had deliberately poured his entire water bottle on Eddie’s lap in the middle of class, and then played it off as an accident to the teacher. He’ll probably get detention for ditching after that, but Eddie was fucking exhausted. Why him? Why did everything have to hit the fan all at once? Couldn’t he just have one bad thing happen per day? He’d take one bad thing a day for the rest of his life over all the shit piled on top of him in the last seven hours.

And! Eddie was sure the fact that his father was in town would bite him even harder in the ass until the son a bitch left again. He couldn’t stand the thought of going home to see his smarmy fucking face after the last time he was in town and conned Eddie out of his savings and the contents of his lunchbox. It was fucking ludicrous that the town hated him for his father when Eddie got the worst end of the stick his whole life. At least the other people could avoid him, could walk away or, hell, even call the cops on the bastard if they wanted. Eddie couldn’t ever get away from him. Every time Eddie even looked at a mirror, Al Munson looked back.

He could feel the buzzing adrenaline bubbling up behind his eyes, stabbing its claws into his sinuses. His hands shook as he tugged them through his hair and he could not let this shitty day make him cry. He wasn’t going to let the town win, let his teacher and Tommy win, let Al Munson win. He clenched his stupid shaking hands into fists and dug his nails in as hard as he could, trying to steady his breathing, but it didn’t work. He could feel the build up behind his eyes and all the shitty events of the day clogging his throat like it was strangling him from the inside.

He let out a frustrated yell, grabbing his lunchbox from the table and using all of his energy to chuck it across the little clearing, across the lunch table, and straight into a tree. It smashed against the bark with a rattle, hitting the ground without even breaking the latch. Eddie knew the thing wouldn’t break, though it might have been sporting a few new scratches and a dent. It made him feel a little better, though. Maybe he could understand why someone would do sports. Maybe. Sometimes.

“Damn, you ever try shot put?” a voice called out through the clearing.

Eddie whipped his head around to find the king himself, Steve Harrington sauntering towards the picnic table. Schools out then, he thought, grumbling in his mind like a child. Of course The King would need to stock up, it was a Friday after all.

“With an arm like that, you’d do pretty well,” he added when Eddie didn’t respond.

“I don’t know what the fuck shop put is, but I’m not in the mood, Harrington,” Eddie called back, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping a boot onto the wooden bench next to him. The second he did, he felt like an idiot, like some kind of alpha-male posturing to seem tougher. He put his foot back on the ground.

“It’s shot put, it’s… never mind,” Steve cut himself off. “Anyway… uh.” He looked nervous, rubbing his hands awkwardly before shoving them into the pockets of his pristine blue jeans. It eased some of the tension in Eddie’s shoulders. He wanted to laugh. He made the king nervous, made him look a bit scared, even. It was comical. Wayne would think it was downright hilarious.

“What do you want, Harrington?” Eddie called. The King was still standing by the treeline, a good few yards of space between them.

“Do you have any joints left? Maybe a baggie of flower or something?” he responded. Eddie rolled his eyes. The royal court was predictable, as always.

“Like I said, I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’ll pay extra,” Steve added, shrugging his shoulders. Eddie paused, contemplating the offer. He did need the money, he always needed the money, and he knew Harrington was good for it. Eddie could probably double the price and The King wouldn’t even bat an eye.

He sighed, glancing at his toppled lunch box on the ground. Eddie rolled his eyes, deciding the money was worth more than his peace and quiet. He cracked his neck before trudging over to the black metal box, noticing Steve’s flinch as he did. The boy tried to cover it, Eddie could tell, but he wasn’t quick enough and Eddie couldn’t quite hide his smirk as he snatched the lunchbox up and walked back to the table.

He sat down, placed the container on the rough wooden surface, and gestured to the bench opposite him. The King paused briefly before joining him, sitting down quietly and pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“How many joints?” Eddie asked.

“How many you got?”

He glanced into the lunchbox, stomach aching as he shoved the actual lunch aside to open the little metal Altoids tin. He had four joints left, a few less than Harrington’s usual haul, but enough. He gathered them all up, pulling out an empty baggie and wrapping the joins up tight. Eddie held up the baggie for Harrington to take before grabbing another, prepacked with an eighth of flower.

“Eighth or a quarter?” Eddie asked, grabbing a second baggie.

“You got a half?” Harrington asked, squinting a little like he was sheepish to ask the question. Eddie would have found it cute if he wasn’t so annoyed at that moment. He rolled his eyes instead.

“If I had a half, I would have asked, Princess,” he snapped. If Harrington had looked sheepish before, he looked downright contrite now. It made Eddie feel a little bad, but he held his glare without backing down. The world had been shit to him today, he didn’t have to care about hurting The Kings feelings.

“An eighth or a quarter ounce, Harrington?” he asked again.

“Quarter,” he mumbled. Eddie pulled both baggies out, holding them toward Harrington to take. He didn’t. Instead he looked from the baggies to Eddie’s face, eyes contemplating something and Eddie hoped like hell that Steve wouldn’t ask, but like everything else today, the world didn’t listen.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Eddie’s anger reared its ugly head again.

“I don’t want to talk, Harrington.”

“Are you sure? Because you kind of look like you need it. Are you okay?” he asked again.

“You want a hint?” Eddie snarked, snatching the baggies back. If His Highness wasn’t taking his gold then Eddie could keep it for himself for all he cared. “Are you hungry?” Eddie asked him.

Steve looked confused, his brows scrunching together like he was trying to connect the pieces of conversation that was running away from him.

“I… why?” he asked.

“Because you can eat my fucking shorts, Harrington. I said I don’t want to talk, so take the weed, leave the cash, and leave me the fuck alone,” Eddie spat, tossing the baggies between them on the table.

“I just mean, maybe I can help! Give you some advice or-“

“I know you’re trying to help, it’s very nice of you to pay your loyal subjects some attention but you don’t know anything about me, okay? I don’t need your advice, and I don’t need to explain myself to you.” Eddie gave up, decided this was a failed transaction and he should pack his shit and leave. He made a move to stand, reaching for the baggies on the picnic table, but he was beaten to the punch. Harrington grabbed the baggies out from under his hand, quickly tossing way too many bills on the wooden table. Forget double, Eddie’s pretty sure it was enough for a whole ounce. He stared, dumbfounded, at the cash in front of him and looked back up at Harrington. He was standing now, just a step away from the bench he’d been sitting on a second ago.

Eddie snatched the cash and tried to reign in his expression. He wasn’t really sure what his face was doing, couldn’t tell if he’d schooled it or not, but Harrington wasn’t giving anything away.

“I wasn’t trying to pick a fight, I swear.” He held a hand up, like Eddie was some kind of rabid animal Steve was trying to placate. “I just… I know what it feels like to not have anyone to talk to. So, like… if you need an ear-“

“I don’t ’need an ear’, Harrington, I need you to get out of my face, I need your court jester Tommy to leave me the fuck alone, and clean my locker while he’s at it! I need Mrs. Click to find my fucking essay because I’m already failing her class, and I need people in this godawful town to stop treating me like I’m just a clone of my father!” Eddie yelled. He huffed out a large breath, startled at his own outburst. By the glint in Steve’s eye, it was exactly what he’d been trying to pry out of Eddie. He looked pleased that he’d just been screamed at, and it just pushed all of Eddie’s buttons.

How the fuck did he even do that? They didn’t talk. Steve bought weed from him before his parties, and ignored him in the hallway. That was it. That’s all they ever were. So how the hell did he just get Eddie to tell him what was bothering him? Maybe the town was wrong, and they got the wrong witch when they put Eddie up on a pyre. He felt the sudden urge to yell ‘I saw Goody Harrington with the Devil!’. Somehow, he didn’t think that would make this conversation any better.

Eddie crossed his arms like a petulant child, and he couldn’t help but notice Steve slot his hands onto his hips like some kind of scolding housewife. Everything Harrington was doing made Eddie feel smaller and smaller.

“Just… leave me alone,” Eddie sighed, feeling deflated. “I don’t owe you anything, okay? You’re not my friend, you’re not my mom,” Eddie rolled his eyes and stared pointedly at Steve’s soccer mom stance. A blush bloomed across his cheeks, and Eddie watched as he took the hands off his hips and shoved them back into his pockets. Eddie couldn’t decide if Steve’s jeans were more dad jean or mom jean but he shook the thought from his head before he figured it out.

“Right… well,” Steve sighed, pulling a hand out of his pocket and patting it lightly on his thigh. Eddie had a sudden flash of Steve wearing horn rimmed glasses, saying ‘Welp, I better hit the road’, and Eddie couldn’t figure out when Steve had gone from King to Single Father during the span of their conversation. “Thanks for the… stuff,” Steve said awkwardly. Jesus Christ, Eddie needed to get a hold of himself and quickly. It was ridiculous how endearing he was finding this, and being weirdly attracted to a father figure act was not something he needed to be unpacking right now.

“Thanks for the cash,” Eddie said back, just as awkwardly tossing a salute in and immediately wanting to jump off a cliff. He needed to get out of here. Quickly, he packed up his lunchbox, tossing the cash inside before latching it shut. He turned back toward the direction of the school parking lot and prayed that Steve would let him go without another word. He tried not to dwell on the fact that it felt a lot like tucking his tail between his legs.

“See you next Friday!” Steve called out behind him.

Eddie was halfway back to the trailer before he realized the weight in his chest was significantly lighter than it had been all day. He tallied it up to Steve being in league with the devil. They’d go back to not speaking in the hallways, and he’d forget all about their conversation today, and that was it. Eddie just hoped he’d forget it too, and tried not to think about exactly how many witch’s marks Steve might have that Eddie couldn’t see.

—

This was inspired by me being unhinged and thinking of Steddie literally every single time a song came on from my playlist so I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could write 26 of them. If anyone wants to try this challenge, go for it! I just thought it would be fun. I linked the playlist above, and I might add or subtract songs to it depending on how I'm feeling

Tagging some people who might be interested or helped me out with picking songs! Thank you for the suggestions (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@estrellami-1 @weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @devondespresso @captncalamity @sluttysteddie @blahblah-hilariousname-blah @cringevalue @thereallifecath

#stranger things fic #songfic #a-z songfic challenge #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #advice by cavetown #hurt/comfort #pre steddie #no upside down au #pre upside down #really this fits wherever you want it to #pre season 4 stranger things #steddie fic #fanfiction #helpimstuckwriting

27 notes · View notes