#And the fact that the whole damn game is named after him makes me think he's gonna be a main fixture

[chronurgy]

I'm starting to dread (ha) Dreadwolf, partly because Solas is the main antagonist and I have...... Absolutely no feelings about him at all, actually. The best I can summon is a big old "meh". And if they center him (which it seems like they plan to) and make a big deal about whether you want to kill him or redeem him or stop him or join him... Well frankly I just won't care and I'm worried that means I won't have a damn thing to care about in the game's main plot

I'm also worried that his success or failure at taking down the veil will be preordained since that's too big of a plot line to leave up to the player - there just wouldn't be any way to structure future games to account for that player choice. This is obviously a less well founded worry, but it makes it really hard for me to care about the stakes of the game

Idk I'm not trying to shit on people who are excited for this game (I am too, despite the bitching and moaning) but it's really hard to get excited for a game when the one thing you know about it is so completely uninteresting to you

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[unacknowledgeable]

Uhm, hey!

I love your serial killer reader so so much, and I just want to say that it just scratches that itch in my brain.

Though, I feel like commissioners Gordon could be a yandere of a sort. He’s obsessed with the killer and finding this person, willing to break any law to find evidence, to risk his own morals to get a clue. And if he finds out its reader???

Well, I’ll be kinda like a Hannibal and will situation, but platonic. Like, reader now has their sight on this man, curious on how he’ll play the game, and Gordon is too obsessed not to play.

Anyway, could I be 🔎? Thanks for reading!!

Oh anon, anon anon anon, big kith for you (to transfer the worms, obviously) I told myself i would take a BREAK, but you, you, I'm bouncing off the walls bc of you

Y’know I actually have a spreadsheet with all of the batfams ages? when certain events happen, motivations, etc, now I gotta add gordon too, goodness me.

I honestly haven't watched Hannibal QwQ haha, would you believe me if I said most of the media I consume is actually feel good kids cartoons….? 

BUT I have been wanting to watch it so I watched the first few episodes before replying to this, because I gotta be informed y’know? admittedly i find there's a lot of disconnect between the correlating characters, but this is a wonderful jumping off point!

ANYWAY, I have actually been trying to think of a way to give the MC more of a life outside of angst with the batfam and, well, you know, murdering people. and this? This is so fun. I think the MC would probably know Gordon through Barbara (obviously), but that's not how they met. He was there, the night your mother died, arriving on the scene to find something he had hoped he wouldn't have found again, not after the first time. A small, 8 year old child, orphaned in a single night.

 Admittedly, that's where the similarities ended.  Where Bruce lost his parents in a back alley of Gotham, you lost yours within your own home. Where two gunshots marked the Wayne couple, your mother was bludgeoned . Where Bruce had wept, blood on his shoes as he gripped his parents bodies, pleading and fighting to hold on, you sat outside, waiting for police to arrive, not a drop of blood on you. 

Getting you to answer questions was like pulling teeth, all they could gather was that your mother had sent you to bed and you later woke up to find her body in the kitchen, having already been dead for several hours. They figured it was a robbery gone wrong, which would explain the killer not knowing another person was in the house, having fled the scene as soon as possible. But that didn't explain why on earth you didn't wake up to what was obviously a loud struggle, there was simply no way. 

The blood results very quickly answered that question and sparked hundreds more. Your mother had been microdosing your food with sleeping pills, all found within the apartment under her name. Either she didn't want to deal with putting you to bed or wanted to make sure you stayed there throughout the night. The fact that you were even still conscious was kinda a miracle. Gordon seriously wished that had been the biggest surprise from those damned tests. Because it turned out his earlier comparisons with Bruce Wayne were far more accurate then he ever would have guessed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not exactly a stretch to assume Gordan kept some kind a of contact with you after everything is settled, he’s done it before, dudes literally one of Bruce's best friends 

He sees you at charity galas a lot, and after catching you trying to sneak alcohol from one of the tables? He appoints himself as your chaperone for any galas you both happen to attend from there on out, which is quite a few of them over the years

You'd have been a lot more annoyed with him if he hadn't allowed you to ramble and talk non-stop throughout the whole event (he was a distraction, like the alcohol, at least this distraction is legal)

This continues on even when your older, when he no longer has any legal need to herd you away from the drink tables, it's just habit now, and you hate breaking habits

While your connection with Bruce can get you many places, it's your connection with the Commissioner that basically guarantees you a position in the coroner's office

yeah, they work in the coroner's office as a mortuary assistant heheheeh  

It's not really suspicious either, Gordon had been well aware of your goal for the job for many years (long before you started making the bodies yourself)

So now, not only do you have near unlimited access to all the case files the bats have on you, you also had access to what the police knew (it's mostly the same stuff, but you had to cover all your bases, god you're just like your father)

There was some sort of irony, performing autopsies on the people you killed, but you don't care to look for it, more focused on destroying any bits of evidence you can

Gordon is no stranger to giving out confidential police info, hell he has a glorified flashlight built specifically to call the bat and just hand him case files, ON TOP OF THE POLICE STATION!!

You often work similar hours, so you let him talk and talk and talk at length about how fucking weird this serial killer in particular is

Unlike with the batfam, reader literally gets a front row seat to Gordon's descent into obsession

You'd seen him with almost every other criminal case that popped up during your time spent around the police department, so you caught on pretty quickly that this was was no normal case to him anymore

He was obsessive, rattling on about the motives and habits of this killer, talking like he knew them personally (oh the ironyyyy) and at first? It weirded you the fuck out.

Not the behavior in general, but that it was essentially focused solely on you, you kept him up at night, kept him guessing, wondering when you’ll strike next, how brutal will it be, more or less than usual?

At first you're like “oh okay, ummmm…. you good buddy? I'm not sure you're all there yourself actually”

You'd just never felt so seen, at least, not by someone still living

Now, Gordon's obsession isn't based on nothing, when I said he found the way SK!reader operated weird asf, I meant it, this man is utterly baffled by it

Normally, when crime scenes are as brutal as yours, its personal, they know the person they've murdered and they hold so much rage in their heart that they can't help but try to cause as much damage to the victim as possible

These crimes also only ever happen once. Not dozens and dozens of times, committed by the same person, it is always so insanely messy that it's easy to pinpoint the who, how and why. Open and shut cases really, just another Tuesday

But when he looks closer? It feels…. Sterile, Methodical, Planned out, scripted, like hitting replay on a particularly interesting scene in a show

This? This has all the showy, over-exaggerated nature of Gotham's greatest rogues, down to the last detail, to the last drop of blood. but it's missing the rogue

It has all of the signs of an attention seeking psychopath, but none of the drive to follow through. To take your rightful credit

Normally such a passionate crime would have someone of equal magnitude behind it. The Joker and his killing Jokes, Ivy and her Eco-terrorism, Bane and his hulking demeanor, Two-face and his double standards-

The point is, there's always a show before the Finale, but with you? He only gets a glimpse at the film before the end credits roll. 

It’s like you're diverting where your real motivations lie, like this is you holding back.

 It’s driving him up a wall

 Your really not making this easy for him, ever your fathers child

Besides that, I'm gonna end this with a few interesting points I thought of that are more difficult to go into more detail rn

Reader is pretty okay with hanging out with Gordon mostly to be petty to Barbara

Of the mindset of “oh, you want my dad? Fine, your dad's mine now. Y oink-”

Later, this'll be a pretty big blow to Bruce's ego, bc like, that's his best friend, so how can he really be upset that Gordon stepped up where he failed? Won’t stop him from being mopey about it though.

It's also a hit to Alfred's as well, because how hadn't he noticed you growing so close to the commissioner? He though your pulling away from him for emotional support was just you growing up, not you looking for it elsewhere 

Gordon has also gotten the closest to finding the reader out, completely by accident

It was one of those days and he was worried about your sour mood, so he figured he’d drop by your workplace, pick you up after your shift ended, and go get take out

Safe to say, he was not expecting to find you mid brawl with some random drunk in an alley only 4 blocks away from where you worked

He stepped in immediately, to your surprise and horror, but he… he checked you for damage instead of slapping you in cuffs, made sure you were okay before calling an EMT to the location, and the only questions he had asked were “Are you okay sprout?”

You thanked your lucky stars that it was the drunk who had thrown the first swing, had instigated the fight, that the camera from the corner store across the street helped solidify that it was self defense, that Gordon had shown up just before it switched to a grizzly murder, and not during.

Another side story could also be the reader getting weirdly invested in the case about them at some point, because they realized they had a copycat killer and it really pissed them off lol

[heeseungwifey]

I'll pick you up - Park Sung Hoon

pairing: idol!Sunghoon x y/n

warnings: contains smut! Minors don’t interact pls

Is a well-known fact by kpop fans that once an idol gets their driving license it means they’re having sex. Since they live in a dorm shared with their group members, they have no other choice but to fuck in the backseat of a car. 

Sunghoon is one of those idols. Annoyed he has to share a bedroom with the other 6 members of Enhypen, he got tired of having no privacy and got into driving classes ASAP. It was quite easy for him to pass the test, since he’s very skillfull and has learnt a lot from driving video games. 

How does he get girls? easy, he can pick and choose at all the fanmeets, in which many fans would slide their phone numbers in tiny pieces of paper between the album pages when he’s gonna sign them. 

He often turns them away, scared of getting into a scandal. But, from time to time, he sees one fan he wishes he could call and meet up with. That's why he was so keen to get his driving licence so that he wouldn't have to wait so long.  

At the very first fanmeet Enhypen did after he passed the driving test, he was expectant of who was in the crowd. Many girls showed up, excited and happy to get an interaction with their favorite member of the group. As the fans sit down on the chairs in front of them, Sunghoon spots a girl with long dark hair and an angelic aura. She's a fan of his, a T-shirt with his picture on it and a banner with his name on it. Lucky him.

The queue moves way slower than he wishes, making him desperate to greet her. When he sees she’s already talking to one of the members, he can no longer focus on what he’s doing. All his signatures look like scribbles and he keeps forgetting the name of the fan in front of him. After many apologies, she’s right in front of him.

-Hello! What’s your name? - Sunghoon says as he stares at her while she sits on the chair in front of him. 

-Y/n - She says, shy and blushy, avoiding his eyes.  

- Y/n… a very pretty name - Sunghoon looks directly into her eyes, wanting to keep eye contact with her. 

-Thank you… - She looks at him and now she can’t stop giggling and darting her eyes from one side to the other of the room. 

-And tell me y/n… I see you’re wearing my face on your T-shirt. Am I your favourite?- Sunghoon smirks. 

-Yes, you are. Since the very beginning, I knew I wanted to be your fan. - she has sparkles in her eyes, enjoying talking about her dear bias.

-Good to know I have such loyal fans. You know, I have to admit you are also been my favourite since you walked in here. You’re beautiful. - Sunghoon lowers his voice and gets closer to her ear, freezing her on the spot. 

-Ahm… that’s, that’s… uhm I don’t know what to say… about that… ahm… - y/n gets surprised by a timer, indicating the time of their brief talk is over. 

Y/n doesn’t want to get up from the chair. She still has something to give to him. She looks at him in the eyes and shakes the pages of the album he just signed in front of him, a piece of paper falling from the inside. 

Sunghoon couldn’t be happier. He was worried she might be a fan who thought didn’t have a shot with him. She does, oh my god how much she does. He couldn’t think of anything or anyone else throughout the whole day. With her phone number written on a piece of paper in the bottom of his pocket, waiting for him to get off work.

When Sunghoon got to the dorms, he stared at his phone waiting to gather the courage to call her. He knows she wants to meet up with him, that’s why she gave him her phone number in the first place. So why was he feeling so doubtful? 

Sunghoon picks up his damn phone and calls her, jumping with every dial tone. When he’s about to give up, a voice on the other line answers:

-Hello…? Who’s this? - y/n answers the phone and Sunghoon can hear voices in the background, a male voice standing out from all of them. Is she with a dude right now? Isn’t she a fan of him? Why did that bother him so much?

Sunghoon thought about hanging up the call. It’s whatever. She has her own life, of course she’s not gonna be waiting for him to call her. When she repeats herself for the third time, he decides to just try it, this is not about catching feelings but a one-night stand with a groupie. 

-Hi! y/n, this is Sunghoon. Do you have a minute?

-Omg, what?! I had the feeling it could be you, I don’t know why... this is a strange hour to call someone don’t you think?

-I want to see you. I’ll pick you up wherever you are right now. You up?

There’s silence on the other side of the call. She’s thinking. She’s not stupid, it’s obvious what this is about. She has to decide whether to leave her dignity aside or be happy. She now chooses to be happy. 

-Sure! I'm in Itaewon right now with a bunch of friends. I was going to go home in fifteen minutes, but I can leave now… Is it okay for you?

-I’ll pick you up outside of the metro station. 5 minutes and I’m there. 

Sunghoon hangs up, not even letting her answer. With a bunch of friends? His ass. Sure there’s some dude in that friend group that has been trying to make moves on her since they met. Women are so naive. He couldn’t have a girl friend that looked like that. A doll straight out of a magazine. The most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and sure he has seen a lot of pretty girls at award shows. It’s gonna take a lot for him to forget about that man’s voice, reminding him that this is just gonna be a one-time thing. Or that’s what he tells himself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s already waiting outside the metro station. There are a lot of people on the street since is a Friday night and everyone’s enjoying their free time drinking and going to clubs. He has done that a bunch of times but got so scared of getting caught that didn’t enjoy it one bit. 

A girl in a miniskirt and high heels walks alone around the entrance of the metro station, waiting for someone. Sunghoon realizes that he didn’t give any indication of how his car looks, and she doesn’t have a way of contacting him. Sunghoon curses at himself for being so careless, picking up his phone and calling her. 

-y/n I’m here. - Sunghoon observes as y/n looks around, looking for a car. 

-Hi! Ahm… What colour is your car? I swear there are so many people here It’s driving me crazy.

-Hold on, let me get out of the car and get you.

-That’s not necessary, just…

Sunghoon double-parks and gets fast in front of her. She looks gorgeous. Her eye makeup, sparkly and feminine and rosy cheeks. She seems to be a bit cold, so Sunghoon takes his coat off to put it on her. 

-You really didn’t need to get out, your car is pretty noticeable haha. If you had told me to look for the most expensive car around here, I would have walked to yours. 

-It would not be very gentlemanly of me to just wait for you in the car. Come on, let’s get inside, you’re gonna get cold. 

Sunghoon puts his hand on her shoulder, leading her to his car and opening the door for her. This is the least he can do, he sure does not plan on being a gentleman when they get in the backseat. But for now, he’s gonna give her a great time. 

He has a plan that although cliché, is still romantic. There’s a viewpoint in the Hannam-dong Hill in which one can park their car. That’s where he is headed. 

-So, where are we going? - y/n asks, turning to look at him curiously. 

-It’s a surprise. Just get comfortable. Is a 10-minute drive there. 

-May I ask you… why me? I know I gave you my phone number, but this is the craziest thing that has ever happened to me. 

Sunghoon looks at her, her body language showing an insecure side of her that Sunghoon rather than offputting finds charming and attractive. Constantly being surrounded by women who just care about their looks and are rather egocentric, y/n is just a normal girl. A gorgeous normal girl, with long legs and a pretty, pretty face. 

-Just because. Can’t I just want to spend my Friday night in your company? Since you're my fan, you might know a lot about me. I wanted to know more about you.

Y/n smiles from the passenger seat, charmed by his response. Although Sunghoon hadn’t prepared it, he was quite happy about how smooth that sounded. Guess he’ll get more experience once he starts doing this more often. 

The Spotify playlist is playing low on the car radio, giving a great ride for both. By the time Sunghoon gets to the viewpoint, y/n has already deciphered his plan. 

-Oh, the Hannam-dong hill, how fancy… I love this place, it’s such a beautiful sight of the Han River. Look, there’s a boat over there!

Sunghoon knows it was a good decision to come here. She seems so excited, pointing at the buildings and boats that can be seen from over there. With her flushed nose from the cold and his huge coat on her, his heart feels a warmth that scares him. What is he feeling right now for a girl he just met?

Overwhelmed by her cuteness, Sunghoon turns his mindset to the plan. This is not a date, he came here to fuck her. The faster he’s done with it, the earlier he can go to his dorm without having to give any explanations. 

-Y/n, get in the car. -He says coldly and gets in the backseat of his car, waiting for her to do the same. 

Y/n walks to the door of the back of the car. Slowly opens it, getting in with a cold breeze, looking at Sunghoon in the eyes just as he’s doing. The car is dark, with the only source of light being the streetlights.

Y/n realizes that her miniskirt has ridden up while sitting, revealing her thigh highs.  She attempts to cover them by pulling her skirt down, but Sunghoon stops her. His hands roam her legs, getting closer and closer. 

-May I… kiss you? - Sunghoon is focused on her lips, some lip tint still on them. She thought there was no use in reapplying before the date, so she just left them like that. 

-Sure… please do it - y/n didn’t have to say anything else, Sunghoon jumping to kiss her.

His hands were only on her thighs at first, but as the kiss got deeper he groped her ass and sat her on his lap. The miniskirt, now a belt pooling on her waist, and her hands all in his hair, pulling on the roots. 

The atmosphere feeling heavy, y/n had to take a breath. Grabbing Sunghoon by the neck and pushing him away, a string of saliva left behind, connecting them. He looks confused, as he might have not realised something have made her uncomfortable. 

-Are you good? Did something happen? - y/n just has her eyes closed, breathing and leaning her head back on the driver’s headrest. 

-No, just… take your shirt off. - Sunghoon follows her command immediately, his pale chest on display for her eyes to see. 

-Okay, I didn’t know this was gonna happen today so don’t laugh… - He raises an eyebrow, not understanding what she means. When y/n takes her top off, her breasts are cupped by a Hello Kitty bra, which makes Sunghoon giggle. 

-I told you not to laugh… - y/n pokes his cheek, giggling along with him. 

-You know what, I can fix it right now, don’t worry. - His hand goes to her back and unclasps her bra, her boobs bouncing free from the cute undergarment. 

Open-mouthed, he had never been in front of such pretty tits, taking her perky nipple to his mouth while he looks at her face. Y/n throws her head back, moaning in pleasure as she moves her hips, the feeling of his tongue connecting straight to her core. 

Sunghoon feels his hard-on rubbing inside his pants and it hurts bad, opening his pants and pulling them down to free his member, creating a tent on his boxers. Y/n whines at the sight, she knew he wasn’t average-sized but seeing in real life it sure seems big and girthy. 

-Hoon, I want to… help you with that - y/n gets off him as she places herself to give him head, being stopped. Sunghoon flips her by the legs so she’s on her back, laying on the seat while he hovers over her. 

-Such a good girl… wanting to take the lead. I’m sorry, this is my car, I make the decisions here.

Sunghoon gives a trail of kisses from her jaw to her belly button, licking her nipples on the way down. When he gets to her underwear, he just presses his pointy nose and smells, groaning.

-Delicious… uhm, the things I have been thinking of doing to you while in this position…  I don’t think I get to do them all today. - Sunghoon is hissing while he palms himself, enjoying the warmth of his head between her legs. 

-Please Hoon, take them off… it hurts - she’s rubbing her legs, trying to do something with the awful ache she has. 

Sunghoon peels her panties off, placing them on the headrest and pushing her legs to the side, so she opens them more and he gets to see her glistening pussy. His sight right now is to die for, the prettiest girl he has ever seen with watery eyes and rosy cheeks, open-legged for him. 

His mouth goes directly to it, savouring all of it as he licks, her moans making it difficult for him to concentrate. She grabs his hair, trying to keep him there as she’s feeling closer and closer to the climax. 

Inserting two fingers, Sunghoon works hard for her release, often looking at her to see her eyes rolling back and teeth biting her lip, trying to stop screaming. He might love blowjobs but, the pleasure it gives seeing a woman fall into madness as she contorts and whines would never compare. 

With loud screams and nonsensical sentences, Sunghoon knows he needs to keep working hard for her sweet venom to hit his tongue. Once she comes, she twists in pleasure, crying and tired of the cardio. 

Y/n lays there, heavy breathing and covering her eyes with her forearm, while Sunghoon cleans her by sticking his fingers and licking them. After a minute of gentle tummy rubs, he kisses her, grabbing her by the arms and sitting her up. 

-Hey pretty? Are you game over? - As hard as he might be now, he can’t help but think it is endearing how exhausted she seems, wishing he could just watch her sleep for a bit.

-I’m good, it’s just that it was so… strong. I have never come like that before. 

-I’ll take that as a compliment for my incredible labour. Hey, listen, if you’re too tired I can get you home and just…

-No, I’m good. I’m not getting out of here just yet. Aren’t you gonna fuck me? - she tilts her head and Sunghoon lets a laugh out, brushing her hair out of her face. 

Y/n grabs Sunghoon’s face with two hands and kisses him with passion, french kissing and their tongues up to each other's throats. She hops on his lap, her wet folds damping his boxer while she rubs herself. 

After licking and playing with her tits while making out, Sunghoon can no longer endure the pain on his member. He remembers that, before this date, he bought condoms and left them inside the glove box of his car. 

-Y/n hey… I need you to do me a favour - Sunghoon says as he keeps on peppering kisses on her face and upper body.

-Uhm, tell me… - she has her eyes closed while she answers, fisting his hair while he sucks on her nipples. 

-I have condoms… in the glove box… can you pick them for me from here?- He looks up, straight into her eyes. 

-Sure. Hold on, let me flip over. - She crosses her leg over his lap, now sitting the other way around, a nice view of her ass and back for Sunghoon. 

He holds her by the hips as he elongates over to the glove box of the car, thankful nobody was around to see her naked. On the back of the car, the windows are tinted but at the front, anyone could see her. 

She grabs the box and hands it to Sunghoon, who takes no time in opening it and ripping the wrapping of a condom to put it on. He taps her asscheek and she stands up, waiting for him to pull his underwear down, letting his member free. 

-Do you want me to put it in? - Sunghoon slaps his dick on her leg, asking for consent. 

-Of course I do! ... And if you don’t do it now I’ll do it myself… please Hoon, do it already! - It’s funny to Sunghoon how cute and sweet she seemed to him that morning at the fansign and how now she’s now begging for his cock in the backseat of his car. He loves girls like that, with duality. 

Not even a minute passes but y/n is already grabbing his member and sticking it in herself, her face of pleasure visible from the rear mirror. He needs to stop looking if he wants to last more than five seconds, her open mouth and furrowed eyebrows too much for him to look at. 

He instead focuses on her ass slapping on his thighs, wiggling with the movement. He grabs her by the hair lightly, pulling her to his chest while she keeps on moving. She grips the headrest in front of her with two hands, to help her keep on bouncing up and down. 

As soon as she gets tired and her movements become sloppier, she begins to whine for Sunghoon’s help, and he swiftly places her laying on the backseat, now in missionary position. 

With the windows steamed up from the heat in the car, they look into each other's eyes in the midst of the most passionate sex encounter they've ever had. They moan in unison, their skin sticking and a moist sound coming from where they connect. 

-So.. fucking good… I can’t let you go just yet… this can’t be the end… arghh… - Sunghoon is feeling anxious, with his and her climax approximating, he knows the end of this is coming. And he’s only wishing for this to last forever. 

-I’m…I’m…not going…anywhere, it’s… okaaay Hoon - Even though she can't say a complete sentence, what she means is true. If he's afraid of this ending, she's afraid it's the last time she'll ever see him again. It may be a great memory to cherish forever, but it's heartbreaking to think that it’ll never be repeated.  

She understands, from the moment she heard his voice on the phone until now, she knows her role. She’s a one-night stand, a groupie, a slut. She took the offer and left her dignity and integrity at Itaewon, trading her respect for herself for a quick fuck with a man who might not even care about her.

This is the first time she has done this. She has only had sex with men she was in a relationship with. Although nowadays is not a big deal, she promised herself she would take care of her body, never letting anyone have their way with her if they didn’t love her. 

But why is Sunghoon being way gentler than the men she swore loved her? Why does he look into her eyes with passion, fondness and warmth? Is he a psycho?

They both hold hands as they come, y/n first and then Sunghoon, falling on top of her and resting his head on her chest while she embraces him with her arms and legs. The car feels hot, perfect for them to have a quick nap in this position and not freeze in the cold of the night. 

At 4:30 am, after they’ve gotten dressed, they go to a convenience store, where they both pick onigiris and ramyun, hopping back into the car to eat. 

Sunghoon stares at y/n as she eats well the onigiri, hungry from all the exercise. A smile scapes from the corner of his lips, getting y/n’s attention. 

-What’s so funny? Do I have mayo on my face? - She looks into the rear mirror, checking. 

-No no, you don’t, I just think you’re so cute - Sunghoon pinches her cheek, laughing.

-Funny how you can still think that about me… tonight has been quite enlightening about my true self. -y/n looks outside of the passenger’s seat window. 

-You can be cute and have a good ride… to me that just makes you ten times hotter. I don’t know if you’re under the wrong impression, but I liked what we did tonight.

-It’s just… I have never done this before, I swear. I just like you so much that I had to… say yes. 

Sunghoon shouldn’t feel guilty, but he does. Without wanting, he pressured her into doing this. It made him insecure, and even though he does consider himself a handsome man, maybe he shouldn’t use his fame to meet up with girls, his fans.

-Sorry, if you felt pressured to meet up with me, I didn’t mean to… fuck, I feel like shit now. 

-Sunghoon that’s not… what I meant at all. It’s the best thing that has happened to me, the best time I’ve ever had. I am just afraid of what you might think about me now…

Her hand, which was rubbing his neck softly, stops. Sunghoon looks at her, a tint of shock in his eyes. So that is what this is all about. She’s scared he thinks she’s some sort of whore. When he has never felt this much intimacy, or connection… with anyone. Not even with some girlfriends in the past.

-Hey, what the fuck… what I think about you? C’mon, I would be an asshole if I thought shit about you. Y/n, all I know is that… if you ever wanted to meet up again, I’d cancel everything just to pick you up.

-Yeah, I guess so… to meet and do this again, right? That’s what I thought. You know, I wouldn’t feel good about that. - y/n looks outside the window, trying to end eye contact with Sunghoon, feeling betrayed by herself. 

- I mean as a date, y/n. If you wanted to meet, I would do it in a heartbeat just to see you again. We might have to hide, you know, so people don’t see us, me, around… don’t feel pressured to say yes this time, I just want you to know that I like your company before anything else. 

She looks at him, wondering if she should believe him. While it sounds sincere it also seems impossible for them to become something. He grabs her hand and kisses it, soft warm lips getting in touch with her cold skin. 

-We could try… Sunghoon, is safe to say that I love you… as an idol, and I don’t want to kill that version of you. A man who’s so passionate and caring about everything he does… please don’t hurt me and make me hate you…

-I would never do that, ever. I swear to you, y/n I’ll take the chance and never let it go… just, let’s try. Okay?

He holds both her hands now. And with that “okay”, she feels she could trust him. Now she feels like it was meant to happen, giving him her number, picking up the phone call… everything is connected. 

She gets closer to him and gives him a kiss, exciting Sunghoon who suddenly deepens the kiss, like a starved man that has been waiting decades for it. She reciprocates, minutes of the most loving kiss any of them have ever had. And of which there will be many more in the future. 

[k4vehrtz]

STARBOY

-> Pairing: shōta aizawa / sub! (trans) male reader

-> Request: yes / no

-> Word Count: 1K (roughly)

➷...Summary: shō offers a helping hand (more like mouth) when you're in need.

-> Notes: not the fic that was meant to be posted this week but seeing as that one is yet to be completed i thought i would post this request in the meantime!

➷...Content Warnings: vaginal descriptions, use of the word cunt, mentions of testosterone, exhibition, age gap (though not specified, both are adults), coach/athlete trope(?), oral (reader receiving), squirting, being caught masturbating, biting, at some point it is implied that shō may have a negative reaction to the reader being trans but he does not. if i miss anything let me know.

“You've got to be—holy shit, this can’t be real.” He grunts, his voice a gravelly whisper amongst the sound of sneakers frantically shuffling across the court. Jesus. His free hand immediately goes to his mess of black hair, strumming his calloused fingers through the stray strands clinging to his sweaty forehead.

It’s a lost cause — it’s all a fucking lost cause. This team is the last nail in the coffin that was Shōta Aizawa’s career as an athlete.

The corners of his lips can’t help but curl upwards at that thought. An athlete? Maybe some ridiculously delusional part of himself still had a shred of his youthful shamelessness. He is, and has been, a disgrace for quite some time now.

His days of being a household name are long gone. You’ve taken his place now, haven’t you? You’re a good player, a team player, and not too hard on the eyes either.

Shō’s had his eyes on you for a while now. You’ve come a long way since he first saw you handing out water bottles to the members of your team. Now you’re destroying his team on the court. It takes every ounce of self-control in him to not laugh. Funny how the world works, right?

 Shōta Aizawa prides himself on how mature he is. He’s not going to pick a fight with you. You’re half his age for crying out loud. He’s above that because he’s incredibly mature; As most people his age would be.

So, it’s purely coincidental that he’s in the same locker room as you. He just happened to take a wrong turn when attempting to find his team. As their coach, it’s his duty to comfort them after such a…horrific loss. But accidents happen and he couldn’t just waltz in here without conversing with you. What if you misunderstood and painted him out to be some kind of pervert? It’s only right that he makes small talk.

But the words that were at the tip of his tongue disappeared in an instant. Perhaps his critical thinking skills have gone along with it. Well, this is quite the turn of events, isn’t it?

“…In all my years of playing this damn game,” He cocks his head sideways, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’ve never found it remotely arousing.” He says pointedly, clicking his tongue. Your skin warms.

You open and close your mouth once, twice, and then a third time but no words slide past those ridiculously beautiful lips of yours. Shō doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s staring. “Each to their own,” He shrugs and you want nothing more than the floor to swallow you whole.

“I…” You start, scrambling to find the right words to say. But in a situation like this, what could you say? The coach of the opposing team just walked in on you with your hands down your pants. Not a good look.

“Wh–What are you even doing in here, first of all?” You counter, fighting a heated blush as you not-so-discreetly pull your hand out of your shorts. Fingers coated in your arousal fluid.

Silence, then a moment later he deadpans, “Got lost, and then walked in on you…doing whatever it is that you were doing.” And before you can stop yourself, “It’s the testosterone, I can’t help it, alright?” you dig yourself into a deeper hole.

Shō blinks at you, once, twice, and then a third time. It’s like you’re taking turns leaving one another speechless. Before his mouth forms something of an ‘O’ shape. You grimace, bracing yourself for this embarrassing situation to take an even worse turn. But it doesn’t.

“Jesus,” He curses, more so to himself, and then takes a deep breath. “I can leave so you can finish—” He stops himself, sounding embarrassed, “…or I can help you with that problem of yours.”

“Go—You can go ahead,” you say, swallowing hard. Everyone has their needs, you remind yourself.

Shō’s gaze meets yours momentarily, silently requesting your approval once more. You nod, turning your head to the side as you lay on one of the benches, your legs spread. Dripping cunt on full display.

He lowers his face in between your legs without hesitation, warm breath tickling your sensitive thighs. As his teeth gently graze the fat of your thighs. He takes his time, gently nipping at your thighs before trailing light kisses up either one. Stopping just short of your drooling hole.

It’s torture, really. The way he alternates between light kisses, gentle nips, and then full-on sucking hickeys onto your inner thighs. Always stopping short of your cunt.

The rough pads of his fingers dig into the skin of your hips as he holds you in place. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. His tongue lapped at your thighs covered in arousal fluid. It’s like he’s never tasted anything sweeter and you squirm, utterly embarrassed. Embarrassed by how wet it makes you; Embarrassed by the sounds you’re both making.

After what felt like hours—You don’t know, you’ve lost track of time. His mouth moves from your thighs to your glistening labia. He presses a kiss to your outer lips, taking his time to spread them, before licking a fat stripe over your labia. You feel yourself tremble, biting down on your lower lip to stifle your moans. There are still people outside. But you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make it all the more exciting.

And then it happens without warning — his tongue breaches your entrance. Your eyes flutter closed, and you knit your brows together when you feel him squeezing your clit in between the rough pads of his fingers. It’s all so perfect. He’s dragged this out for far too long.

He’s so good to you. Your legs are shaking but he holds you in place with one hand as he laps at your sopping-wet cunt like it’s his last meal. You can feel your orgasm creep up on you and oh when it does, you’re squirting. Spraying your juices all over his face, and he doesn’t protest in the slightest. He pulls away, lips quirking, and licks what’s left on his face contently.

[missmarveledsblog]

it's fate ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader )

Summary : from a young age carole bradshaw always told her son meeting his father was fate , it was like she knew he was the one from her , now older bradley starts to think of fate when he see's a beautiful face everywhere until one night she comes to the hard deck and well fate can be funny .

warnings : none , some fluffy goofy fun with the hawaiian shirt wearing aviator

Since he was a young boy to his earliest memories , his mother told him of soulmates and fate the way she met his father. even after his fathers death when love wouldn't be the first thought , yet Carole bradshaw told her son of true love instilled the idea into the young boys head . back then he told her girls were gross and yucky , then he got older he didn't see the fate or true love so he just put it down to his mothers love stick and broken heart rambles . his whole life he never thought of fate or true love well that was til her. He didn't know her name , nothing and yet when everywhere he went she was there .

At first it wasn't anything yeah he thought she was hot at a glance but never thought he would see the pretty stranger again . how wrong was he everywhere he went she was there . when he was entering the gym she was leaving , when she was entering the cafe he was leaving . Not once did he speak to her nor did she speak to him but this had to be something more ,he saw her more to point he was completely and utterly enamoured. the words his mother spoke finally making sense and for once in his life bradley felt shy almost unsure how to approach a woman like it was something he's never done before .

His friends the fellow members of the dagger squad were honestly over it , they heard of the mystery woman one times too many . How he was sure she was next mrs bradshaw he just needed to find the right way about it .

" what if the last time you seen her was the last time? Or what if she's a stalker " fanboy questioned .

" or if she exists i'm starting to think the g's are getting to you chicken , i doubt she'd be stalking him c" jake snided barely breaking his glance from the game before him to know he was irriatating the hell out of his friend.

"she's real bagman nat's seen her few times" .

" back of her head if that counts but she real" nat mused .

" and you rooster who probably only one of us who slept with the same amount of women as bagman hasn't done a thing about it ?" payback asked .

" next time i see her because well it's ... " he started .

" FATE" They called in unison .

" well i'll make a move " he smirked and sort of new found determined to prove them right.

" yeah or i'll show her a real man" jake snickered ignoring the glares being sent his way .

in all the talk of fate it seemed to be knocking as the bell above of the door rang out and it was like it called to him . when he stared in disbelief as he watched her walking in the doors . he couldn't believe they couldn't deny it now not when it was so obvious.

" there she is the next ..."

" do not finish that sentence chicken " jake stood only to see the woman in question eyes hit his .

" JAKE SERESIN YOU DUMBASS" she yelled the whole bar going quiet as she stormed pass.

"mrs bradshaw? " bradley whisper watching the girl he been pining after heading toward his friend , enemy it was a day to day thing between the two .

" i would ask if you were dropped on your head as child but i'm starting to think momma played basketball with that big ass head of yours " she growled.

" what i do now ?" he asked trying not to glare and feel sort of sick knowing this was the woman bradshaw was moping about .

" well one sleeping with my coworker she won't talk to me now and the fact you keep stealing my keys" she huffed.

" lets talk outside" he groaned watching . " don't need my little sister yelling all over damn bar".

" ohhh .... OHHH" nat eyes widened at sudden realisation of the scene before her.

" hey you look familiar" she stood looking directly at rooster only for jake to push he out to the door before another word could be exchange.

" so hangman's sister is your future wife man this fate stuff is absolutely amazing " nat broke out laughing as the other joined in .

" is really fate if she was there to see hangman like the gym and stuff" javy snorted.

" well fate is funny isn't alway cut clear but that was the future mrs bradshaw i am telling you guys and you all gonna look dumb at our wedding shit" bradley mumbled slightly questioning everything in the moment .

" you ain't marrying my sister chicken , she is off limits ... even to fate " jake huffed sitting back in his spot.

......

he tried to stay away really he did he pretended not to see her going as much to cross to the other side of the road . well it lasted one day but hey he tried or so he could tell himself that. standing in the bakery , his day well wasn't going to plan , the new recruits were dumber than a box of rock . it was one of those morning where if he wanted to go left he'd end up somehow going right so instead of going to the canteen for lunch he decided to enjoy his own company one where he wasn't listening to his fuck ups that were oh so hilarious to his friends . standing in line ready to order his pick me up when he heard that voice. one that had him cursing his mother in a busy cafe queue.

" iced caramel latte and ohh one of those brownies thank you" her voice god dam it was like some milk of magnesia sort of shit so smooth and calming and yet a little husk to it pair with the accent he hated to hear from bagman yet suddenly was loving the way it came out of hers .

" americano shot of espresso and three brownies thanks " he nodded trying to talk lowly.

" hey don't i know you" the voice called. yet all he could think was " wanna know me" but instead he just said:

" i was there when you yelled at bagman" a smile and his eyes soften instantly turning.

" yeah not first or last time .. looks busy in here tables filling fast i'll save you seat.. ?" she smiled brightly waiting for him to tell him his name.

" brooster...wait no it's radley .... am i having a stroke shit my name is bradley bradshaw" he felt his cheek heat up and his brain screaming at him calling him a dumbass.

" well bradley brooster radley .. names y/n seresin i'll see you over there" she laughed god even her laugh made his knee week and she didn't run from his clear frazzled brain moment and secretly thanking his mom in the line of a coffee shop .

he was almost begging his body not to trip or fall and make himself look like more of an idiot then he already did . she wasn't lying when she said it was busy and moment he walked to the table already staring down the man who was going to make his way over.

" well brooster you got enough brownies " she giggle as he place the small tower on the table .

" hey im a growing boy it's needed" he winked .

" do y'all ever grow up?" she teased.

" i'm more grown than your brother i would never steal your keys".

" why would you have them ?" she smirked .

" i was just erm ... god my brain is out for me today" he laughed breathlessly .

" i'm kidding so what brings you here .. other than its best place in this state" she asked softly.

" well it's my favourite spots , the coffee isn't watered down and it got a warm feel to it like cosy god i sound like a hallmark card" he sighed only for her to giggle he was never tired of hearing it , honestly if it got that reaction and sweet sound he was going to make more of an idiot of himself. the two talk away , talking about her work as a kindergarten teacher , he would talk about being in the navy . it was perfect once he got over the weird start . he was having so much fun he barely notice the time slip away til his phone began dinging away .

" shit i better get going but this .. this was cool" he stood .

" yeah it was .. maybe you would like to do it again" she smiled softly holding out her phone instantly he took it putting his number in watching as he called himself the two walked to the door only for her to be heading to same way .

" i swear i'm not following you look see the corvette that's mine" she snorted seeing how it looked .

" you like vintage cars?" he always yelled in disbelief .

" i do jake calls them flintstone mobiles " she rolled her eyes.

" well not to brag or anything the bronco beside it well that's my baby" he smiled proudly.

" well look at that looks like fate i met you today radly brooster bradley" she called out heading to her car . " i'll call you later" .

" well i'd be a sucker to turn down fate" he winked watching as she drove off . " yep that my future wife" he shook his head knowing he was going to have to deal with hangman sooner or later .

part two

A.N:Let me know if you want a part two but this was fun to write .

[honeyedmiller]

Checkmate | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤

a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)

word count: 4.6k

synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.

dividers by the lovely @saradika

You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time. 

The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it. 

In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller. 

And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height. 

He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the  scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body. 

He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights. 

He was your dad’s best friend?

Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked. 

You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach. 

You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance. 

After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him. 

Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible. 

About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel. 

“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine. 

“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. 

“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips. 

“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly. 

She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.” 

-

You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink. 

Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out. 

“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress 

“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.” 

You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance. 

You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice. 

You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom. 

“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.” 

You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber. 

The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs. 

It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song. 

“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar. 

You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more. 

“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly. 

“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy. 

“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. 

“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.” 

Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place. 

The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never. 

“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat. 

You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe. 

“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top. 

Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone. 

“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him. 

So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time. 

He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top. 

“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him. 

His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment. 

“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body. 

“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you. 

The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans. 

“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you. 

“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong? 

“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter. 

“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus. 

It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout. 

“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it. 

His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.

“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body. 

“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared. 

You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel. 

“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up. 

Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck. 

“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights. 

“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth. 

He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously. 

“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone. 

“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck. 

“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough. 

Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment. 

Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.

Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor. 

“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head. 

“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.” 

Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs. 

“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head. 

“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself. 

“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point. 

“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.” 

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt. 

You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders. 

“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief. 

“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before. 

Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh. 

You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already. 

“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up. 

“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.” 

“I need you, Joel, please.” 

Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it. 

Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb. 

You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck. 

You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last. 

“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance. 

The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt. 

“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more. 

“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth. 

Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest. 

“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh. 

The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you. 

You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him. 

“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious. 

You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you. 

That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started. 

You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter. 

It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control. 

As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind. 

Fuck the consequences. 

None of it fucking mattered. 

Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would. 

The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager. 

That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this. 

You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him. 

Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice. 

Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so. 

He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set. 

Joel shouldn’t be here.

You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last. 

And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.

“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”

“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.

He’s frustrated with himself. 

Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.

You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could. 

He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man  with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that. 

Joel knew better. 

He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him. 

You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all. 

You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you. 

The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.” 

 The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago. 

He fucking lost the game. 

He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness. 

Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse. 

It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite. 

He was the one that royally fucked in the end. 

Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.

Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.

Checkmate. 

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81

[suplicyy]

heyy hope you’re gonna take this request, can you write something about canon kuroo confessing?

No time skip please. Like with a female reader which doesn’t act in love with him like the rest of the girls, she’s not pick me or stuff like this.

So Kuroo can do nothing but finally talk to her because he can’t stand the fact that she’s different from other girls.

I can’t really picture canon Kuroo confessing, that’s why I’m asking, I really like your writing!

Thank u so much

Notice me Please!!!

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

— Summary: He has his eyes on you, but for some reason you don't look back.

— Tags/Genre: Fem!Reader | Fluff

— Warnings: None!

Kuroo drums his fingers impatiently on his desk, and with one hand resting on his chin, he stares at your figure across the classroom. You seemed quite entertained listening to music, which he has no idea what it is, but that sight makes him feel something inside him.

Frustration. He admit that he can't stand seeing you like this, because you're never like that when he tries to talk to you, and that made him feel a kind of jealousy, even if it was for something inanimate.

Every time you talked to him, you seemed indifferent, almost as if you were uninterested. Damn, why don't you look at him with the same twinkle in your eye when you're listening to something on your stupid headphones?

It's been a while since Kuroo started to have strong feelings for you, your heart skips a beat every time you pass each other in the school hallways, with Kuroo always looking back when you pass by him. But he never revealed that to you of course.

And no matter how many bad jokes or flirtations he told you, how many little gifts he left in your locker or on your desk in secret and then hinted that he was the one who left them there, it seemed like you never cared about his desperate actions for your attention.

At first, he thought this was just the way you acted, that you were more shy and reserved. But then he noticed the giggles you had with your friends, how talkative you seemed to be around them.

Now he thinks the problem is with him, that maybe you hate his presence, or just don't care about him.

He is a relatively popular person at school. His volleyball team reached the Nationals, which gave great prominence to all the team members, especially him. So it's no surprise to hear girls gossiping about Kuroo in the hallways.

To tell the truth, he didn't care much about it, sometimes he would even tease Yaku for having more fans than him, but that was it.

The only person he craves attention from is you.

But he doesn't know if you feel the same way, or at least care about his existence.

So that's why today would be the day he would bring the whole truth to light. His only option now would be to confess to you. Maybe it was a last choice made out of desperation and doubt, but he can no longer bear your indifference towards him.

Your club activities are over, so you can finally go home after a tiring day of boring classes and uninteresting people.

Now, you were walking towards the school exit, but you soon stopped when you saw a certain boy with a peculiar hairstyle standing at the gate, almost as if he was waiting for someone.

You figured he was waiting for Kenma to go home since they were best friends, so you didn't care much about it and continued walking to the exit.

"Hey, [Name]!"

A familiar voice calls you. And as you turn to the side, you see Kuroo walking towards you, waving at you.

"Let's go home together, shall we?" you look around, and then you look at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you going with Kenma?" "He said he needed to go somewhere else to buy a new game, something like that. And since I'm alone... I thought about going with you."

He gives you a smile that would make anyone fall in love immediately, but it never seemed to have any effect on you.

You looked at him with an enigmatic expression, almost as if you want to read him through his actions and words. "Um, sure." You say as you adjust your backpack hanging on your shoulder, soon starting to walk, with Kuroo by your side.

Your house wasn't that far from the school, but in the situation you were in, it felt like an eternity had passed since you left the school gates and started walking.

Neither of you exchanged a single word, except for Kuroo who was humming some random song.

"Y'know..." he says after a moment, which made you direct your gaze to him, who was still staring at the path ahead.

"I once heard you listening to this song. You turn your music up so loud that anyone who passes by can hear it coming from your headphones." your expression changes to one of surprise.

"S-Seriously? I never realized that..." you laugh awkwardly, looking away to the floor.

"Yeah... but it's not because of music or headphones that I called you to walk with me." Kuroo stops walking unexpectedly, making you stop too.

Looking back, you notice his expression is more serious, almost as if he is a little nervous.

"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you."

His tone of voice seemed to have changed too, which left you confused, or even a little nervous, as much as you didn't want to admit it.

"I...like you, [Name]." As he uttered these words, it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from the boy's shoulders, his previously tense posture allowing himself the luxury of relaxing, even if for a brief moment.

However, the opposite seemed to manifest in you. Previously unconcerned about what this simple walk would offer you, it was almost as if your breath was suddenly caught in your throat. Your heart soon feels like it's leaving your body, hammering in your chest in a fast, nervous rhythm.

"Huh?" you say in disbelief at what you heard. Shock quickly turns to annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "Look... don't think this kind of joke is funny, because you won't hear me laugh about it."

"Joke? Why would you think that?" Kuroo says this right after with a nasal laugh.

He walks closer to you, and you instinctively step back, until your back is in contact with a large tree that was close to the sidewalk. He stops right in front of you, and looks at you with a touch of doubt, almost as if he had heard something incredible.

"Why do you think I would make fun of something like that? You- my feelings for you... would never be a joke to me." he says with an affectionate tone, his eyes softening for a moment as he maintains eye contact with you.

"Maybe this could have been just a challenge your friends arranged for you, like in those cliché movies." your tone conveys sarcasm, but with a touch of bitterness "Or maybe some pretty girl rejected you, and is now looking for solace in anyone even remotely close to you..." "Or even-"

Your words are cut off as you feel Kuroo's lips land tenderly on your cheek. His hand reaches out to cup the other side of your face, and the other lands on the tree behind you, pinning you there.

"I like you, [Name]." he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "And I will tell you this until you can't prove otherwise."

Kuroo takes his hand off the tree and takes your hand, then looks at you seriously. "And I mean it."

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly compose yourself, and a small smile appears on your face, but this time it's genuine.

"Hmm, so you want to win me over, huh?" you push yourself away from the tree, placing your free hand on his shoulder. Your sudden closeness makes Kuroo surprised, making him suddenly feel shy.

"Only words won't convince me... you better work hard for it, Tetsurou." you move away from him, and start opening your backpack, looking for your headphones.

You give a small wave to Kuroo, but without turning towards him, focusing only on the path in front of you.

Dumbfounded, Kuroo waves back, his cheeks dyed with pink in embarrassment.

"Thank you for accompanying me, but I can go on my own from here." You say as you fit your headphones onto your head, putting on a random playlist that you made in honor of your little crush, who is definitely not Kuroo Tetsurou (it is).

— A/N: Uh........hi........I'm back.............

First of all, I want to apologize a thousand times to whoever sent me this request, I'm really sorry it took me SO LONG to post this. In addition to apologizing to everyone who follows me here, for not having given any sign of life for more than a month....😭

I really don't have a real excuse for doing this other than a total of 0 creativity and several hours of my life in hell (school), so I really needed to take this time for myself, until I felt more comfortable coming back here again.

I'm currently feeling quite creative artistically, mainly because I'm watching MHA again (which I'll probably bring here on my page) and also because I'm reading the Haikyuu manga. Plus, I passed pretty much every subject at school, so I don't have to worry so much about grades.

So...I'm officially back now!! I apologize again, and in compensation for this, I am already writing 3 more new things for you (2 are from MHA😜😜🤪); and I also won't open requests until I finish writing these, so stay tuned!!

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

��Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[0ceanic-cosm0s]

To the Hellfire - chapter 0

[Josh Washington x F! Reader]

3.2k words

masterlist - zero - one

chapter wrote by @sharkology & @xghostcr0wx

⚠️CHAPTER WARNINGS⚠️

[self-harm mentions/references, in-patient setting, blood, mental health issues]

An in-patient facility was not the place you were expecting to spend your month, but it's not surprising considering your track record of mental health problems. Ever since you were young, you had a bad habit. Self harm. The feeling gave you a blissful relief, and seeing the red left you distracted from the outside world.

It was the easiest and best way for you to cope. Sure, the medications your parents got your doctor to prescribe you helped somewhat. But the anguish and depression that constantly consumed you didn't ease up much. And after a severe manic episode, your parents had enough and admitted you to the Ocean View mental hospital.

That's how you found yourself in a month stay. It was really bad at first. You were screaming, crying, begging not to be taken there. The whole intake session you were inconsolable, asking how long you had to stay there. When you first heard '30 days' come out of your assigned therapists mouth, you felt like fainting.

It wasn't all bad though, you met a guy around your age. His name was Josh. He'd just arrived there the day before you. Before meeting him, there was a whole process of frisking you by staff and making you strip to check for any previous wounds or sharp objects. They give you a fresh pair of the hospitals clothes to change into afterwards.

You say goodbye to your parents and hug them when you're done; they each kiss your cheeks with a tearful eyes and wave farewell. One of the staff leads you through hallways and into the 'day room' where all the other patients are put in during the day to have some freedom and relax.

Necks are broken and voices quiet to look at you when you enter, countless eyes boring into your soul. They were interested to see who else was damned here. Your anxiety starts to fill your nerves as you walk over to an empty table, avoiding all eye contact. You just wanted to be left alone to calm down.

The chatter starts up again, only now a few eyes were on you. A specific set in particular however, found you. Intriguing. The stranger strolls up to your table, not even asking if he could sit with you and takes the empty chair beside you, a lopsided smile adorning his lips as he speaks in a deep and somewhat slurred tone.

"Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Josh." He says as he extended a hand out to you.

He was a fairly built guy. Short, brown locks for hair and an interesting shade of green for eyes. His skin was a olive toned, brownish shade. He looked tired, and exhausted. Eyebags hung underneath his eyes, but who's wasn't in this place?

You stare at his hand for a second, contemplating if you really feel like making friends right now. But considering the fact that you'll be there a while, you decide on being friendly.

"Likewise, I'm [Y/n]." You return his handshake, finding it hard to keep eye contact. The only thing you could think about at the moment is how much you didn't want to be in the hospital to begin with.

"So, what's it like here?" You ask with curiosity. "Best to know what's in store for me, right?" You add on in a light joking tone, causing Josh to crack a smile.

"Yeah well it's no luxury hotel, I can tell you that much. I haven't been here long either, only since last night." He admits which makes you visibly deflate, the fear of the unknown starting to get to you.

Josh notices and tries to save the mood.

"Hey hey it's not all bad, on the weekends we get to play games and let loose." He says and is only left with silence. His eyes look around the room for a bit before speaking again.

"Yeah this place fucking sucks." He admits, earning a laugh from you and causing him to smile wide.

Thus, you began sprouting a friendship with Josh in the mental hospital. It mostly consisted of you guys hanging out in the day room, sitting next to each other, cracking jokes, and talking about life at home. That's when you found out why Josh was in-patient in the first place. The death of his two sisters, Hannah and Beth.

Josh was really good at hiding his mental problems, using jokes and dark humor to cope with his trauma. There was only one time where his facade slipped, and it wasn't even in front of you. It was during the middle of your stay. You could tell Josh was acting different that day too. He was a bit more quiet, talked lower, and zoned out a lot more than usual. When he was eventually called away by his therapist to have their daily session, you felt instant bordem sink in.

There wasn't much you could do on weekdays. A TV was mounted on the wall, but the movies you could watch were very limited. You zoned out, thinking about what events in your life led you here. That was until you heard an agonizing scream from outside of the day room, down the halls. A scream that you could only recognize as Josh's voice. A lot of the words he was saying were muffled and inaudible, but you could make out a few words like 'fault' and 'prank'.  You couldn't quite understand what was going on and you could tell he was distressed. An hour later, Josh was back from his therapy session and he walked out like nothing happened. You tried not to act awkward about it, but it was a weird moment. You brushed it off and didn't say anything related to it since you assumed he'd tell you if he was comfortable with it.

He never went into detail about what happened with his sisters. It was so vague, you had to piece together that they were dead in the first place. You never pressed him about it though. You knew it was a very sensitive subject, since it's the cause of him being here in the first place. On the other hand, you didn't mind opening up to him on why you were there.

You would show him your scars when no prying eyes were looking once you got comfortable enough with him to share. They were, gruesome. Is how he'd put it lightly. The first time he saw them he made a pretty clear surprised face you mistook for disgust, your insecurities flaring up a bit. But he quickly apologized and carefully caressed your shaking arm with a calming gentleness.

"I-I'm sorry, [Y/n], I just. I've seen some nasty stuff from the other patients but yours takes the cake." He tries to joke with a nervous laugh. It doesn't make you feel better though. He sighs, and retracts his hand while you two sat in silence for a few moments.

He speaks up hesitantly, trying to figure out how to lighten the mood when a thought comes to mind. "If it makes you feel better, even in the slightest. I think they're beautiful." Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?" He sighs, lowering his eyes to the ground while rubbing the back of his neck trying to gather his thoughts.

"It's like. It just shows that no matter how much pain and suffering you've been in, you're still here. You're still living. You exist. Your scars show what you've had to endure and that you made it to another day." His capturing green eyes look up at your [e/c] ones, trying hard to convey the sincerety in his voice.

"I just find your strength admirable, ya know? I hope that makes sense.." He smiles anxiously, hoping to the Gods he didn't make himself look like a bigger idiot. He waits a few seconds for your response-when you finally manage a small smile at him.

"Yeah. It makes sense." You softly say, appreciating his words. His grin widened at your smiling face and you two continued chatting about whatever came to your minds the rest of the day.

Both of you became close, as close as a mental hospital would let you. If the staff found out you were sharing your last names with each other, you'd get in trouble. It was strongly discouraged because 'you're here for treatment, not to make friends.' That didn't deter you and Josh though. You ended up learning his last name, 'Washington', and he told you about how his dad is a popular movie director. You kinda had a hunch his family had a lot of money but you didn't expect them to be that rich. He explained how he owned a mountain as well as how him and his friend would go visit their lodge for a few days to a week in the summer and winter. The way he explained the getaway trips made it sound so fun, leaving you longing for an experience like that.

"That sounds amazing!" you'd exclaim everytime he talked about the lodge.

"Next time we go, I'll invite you. I promise." He'd always say, you both making a quiet promise with your pinky fingers. But you never knew how serious he was. You never kept your hopes up about seeing him after you got out, you knew it was a small chance since both your hometowns were hours away from each other.

That was until he slipped you his phone number on a tiny slip of paper. He gave you a playful wink, indicating that you know what to do with it when you get home. It was the last exchange you guys had before Josh was discharged, leaving you to stay there one more night. The last day without him was the hardest. It's like he brought life into the place. You were practically spending everyday with him for 29 days straight, and you got used to his playful presence. It would be a lie to say you didn't develop a small crush on him during your time together.

The second you were out of the hospital and made it home, you just wanted to run up into your room, lock it, and text Josh-clutching the small piece of paper with his number on it close to your chest; brimming with excitement. But alas, your parents wouldn't allow you a moment to be alone. They showered you in love and affection, presenting gifts to you left and right the second you guys stepped inside. You tucked away the paper with a sigh, reminding yourself you'd be able to talk to him soon enough.

After a few hours of hanging in the living room and talking about your stay at Ocean View (only barely mentioning Josh as you didn't want them to question you for another hour) you tell them that you're exhausted and that you wanted to sleep. They reluctantly agree after they insisted you sleep in the living room with them so they could keep an eye on you, which you shut down immediately and reassure that you'd be fine alone.

You hug them goodnight and lug up all the gifts into your room, swiftly locking the door and hurriedly pulling out the notepaper and your phone-punching in the digits a little too eagerly. You already craved his ridiculous jokes and teasing. Once you added his contact, your finger hesitates over the typing section. 'Would he respond?' 'Would he want to talk?' 'Did he actually care about you?' 'Was he pretending the whole time to be your friend just to hurt you in the end for his own entertainment?'

Countless worrying thoughts filled your mind, and your anxiety begins to build. You felt the urge to self-harm to help deal with the stress you felt, even if it was something so minor. It's just how your brain processed these things. But you manage to suppress it somewhat. You take deep breaths, using breathing exercises like your therapist suggested to do when you got like this. Once you calmed down, you began to shoot him a simple text:

You: "Hey Josh, it's [Y/n]. Sorry it took me a bit to text, my parents were talking to me for what felt like forever. How've you been?"

You contemplate if this was a good text; if it seemed too desperate or corny. But you close your eyes and hit send anyway. Conflicting thoughts ran through your brain if this was a good idea or not. You were told it was strictly forbidden to ever become friends with people in the mental hospital by the staff and your therapist because it might be dangerous for both parties. You didn't care during that time, thinking: 'It can't be that bad, right?' And now, you weren't too sure, your overthinking thoughts swirling around like a typhoon.

Until a few seconds later you heard a 'ping' come from your phone. You immediately open your eyes to see what it was; hoping for Josh. And your heart raced when he responded.

Josh: "Well if it isn't Ms. Marbles finally remembering about lil' old me. Took you long enough"

Marbles was a nickname Josh gifted to you so generously in the mental hospital in reference to you quite literally losing your marbles-the cause for you to get admitted. And ironically enough, you really enjoyed playing a marble game with him during game nights so it was a two in one combo.

You roll your eyes with a sigh, relieved that he texted back and also the faint annoyance at such a cringe nickname, but it still made you smile nonetheless.

You: "Marbles? Really? Couldn't keep that dumb name back in Ocean View?"

Josh on the other side of the screen was smiling wide, happy to finally talk to you again once more. He missed your company and voice dearly.

Josh: "You wound my ego, Marbles! I'll have you know I'm the greatest nickname giver in the whole world. So be honored that you were personally given one by me ;)"

You scoff at the text. He was always such a complex and interesting guy. But his shenanigans were amusing to you, so you often didn't mind them. You kinda got used to the name overtime anyways when he'd see you in the day room and call you over by it constantly. Even though you acted like you hated it, deep down, you felt special the moment he gave you a nickname.

For the next 9 months you and Josh continued to stay in contact. You would text, call, Skype, and even play games together like Minecraft from time to time. You got close to each other over the months you spent chatting. He even finally confided in you, albeit the tinest bit, about the death of his sisters.

And you were growing on Josh too. The one thing he'd look forward to everyday is a text from you. Even if he didn't tell you that, even if you didn't know, it still meant a lot to him. He cherished the time you spent together, it didn't matter it was through a screen.

Some time at the end of January he invited you to his 'Anual Blackwood Winter get Away'. You were honestly excited to see him again, and you couldn't wait to hang out with him without having staff breathing down your back 24/7.

So of course you said yes and accepted the invitation. You knew it wouldn't just be you and Josh, his friends would be there too. You also knew that his friends were the indirect cause of his sisters deaths. You honestly didn't know how he was still able to hang out with them in the first place, but he said they expressed terrible regret for their actions which is fair. Only 2 of his friends weren't in on it, which you guess is a comforting thought. It's not like you already hate his friends, you just thought the prank was in bad taste and resulted in a terrible tragedy that no one saw coming. You just felt bad for Josh the most, he's the one who had to face the repercussions of his friends actions; losing both his sisters. You could definitely see it still affected him. No matter how much he insisted he was over it, you could tell he was still grieving.

You were there for him as much as you could be, through a screen. It seemed like he had a friend, Sam, who has been helping support him through this tough time in his life. You're thankful for that.

The day arrived when you had to get ready to go to leave for the trip. You woke up extra early, making sure you had enough time to take a shower and go over everything you packed the previous night. You texted Josh after your shower, asking him about the details of transportation. He said you were supposed to take the same bus as Sam to the mountain, since she was one of his most closest friends, he wanted you two to potentially bond and already have a good connection. You were a little anxious to meet her, but he's told you a lot about her and she seemed to be a really cool person you'd get along with.

You start getting dressed, choosing a warm yet stylish outfit. You slip on black thermal leggings, white leg warmers and black snowboots, a blue and white pleated skirt with a matching blue sweater, a cute black leather jacket over, and white earmuffs. You put the earmuffs around your neck to stay until you reach the mountain.

After checking all your essentials and making sure you had everything, you place your duffle bag over your shoulder and grab your phone-putting in wired earbuds to listen to music while on your way to the bus station during the car ride. Your parents dropped you off, making sure you packed your meds and your charger. They hugged you tightly good bye and drove off. You sat on a bench and began scrolling through your phone as you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey! [Y/n], right?" You look up and recognize the blonde haired girl as Sam, from pictures Josh would show you. You give her a polite smile and nod, taking out an earbud and offer a hand for her to shake.

"Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you." Sam shook your hand, it was soft and warm.

"Likewise, I've heard lots of things about you from Josh. And I mean a lot. He really likes you, you're a good influence on him." Your heart skipped a beat at her words. You didn't think he'd talk about you that much to his friends. But it made you feel happy he thought of you like that.

You two sit and talk for a fat minute, until your bus arrived. Sam and you step aboard, taking a seat close to the back together and continue chatting, talking about each other while the bus drove off to start the journey to your destination.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

[a/n] omg y'all chapter zero is done and chapter one is coming soon as hell so stay tuned!

-From

🦈 & 🦇

[justnatoka]

Wild creatures

Paul x Fem! Reader

A/n: This was so therapeutic to write, you have no idea. I adore this man so much! Fun fact: the idea for this fic came to me as I was dancing around in my kitchen, drinking wine, listening to Red Wine Supernova by Chapell Roan for the first time.

Word count: 4.6k

Warning: canon typical violence, blood, one douchebag who can't take no for an answer, mention of weed use, nsfw themes (minors dni!), light smut (nothing too explicit), skinny dipping, lots of fluff, LOTS of sexual tension lol

Prompt: "All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes."

You and your boyfriend have a wild night out on the boardwalk.

The first thing your brain registered was soft breathing against the back of your neck, then the arm wrapped tight around your waist, holding you close, your back pressed against a solid chest. As your eyes fluttered open, you took in the darkness of the cave, your gaze sweeping over the colorful mess of pillows, blankets and different fabrics draped all over the little nook your boyfriend affectionately called your nest. He took to sleeping here with you after you joined the pack, saying he didn’t want to be apart from you for even one night. Not that you were complaining.

Speaking of Paul, his arm squeezed you in his sleep, a soft snore escaping him. You smiled to yourself as you slowly wiggled your way around to face him. You discovered a slight frown on his handsome features, his hand gripping your waist tighter, and you wondered what he was dreaming about. Inching closer, you laid a gentle kiss right between his eyebrows, and his features smoothed out instantly, his grip loosening but not letting go, never letting go. He brought you closer, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and breathing in your sweet scent. He draped his leg over yours, tangling them together and clinging to you like a koala. Damn, you loved this man.

You loved his loud and silly personality, the constant flirting, his need to always be near you, always touching you, even if it meant just linking your pinkies together. You loved all the little ways he showed you affection, like bringing you small gifts: a shiny rock or a pretty shell he found on the beach, a plushie he won at a game stall on the boardwalk, a pin for your growing collection covering your jacket. The same jacket the boys got you as a welcome present when you joined the gang, and one you adored with all your heart. You loved how expressive he was, his face lighting up every time he saw you, smiling bright when you were happy, but also crying with you when you weren’t. You enjoyed every moment you spent with him, be it annoying Marko, making out in public while ignoring the loud teasing of his brothers or getting high at the cave and blasting songs of his favorite bands on the boombox, playing on imaginary guitars, headbanging together and giggling when you got dizzy. But it was quiet moments like this one when you really had the time to think about and appreciate the life you had with him. Feeling warm and content, you sank deeper into his embrace.

Your peace was interrupted however, as you heard the others starting to wake up further in the cave. You were reluctant to disrupt Paul’s sleep, but you knew if you didn’t move, one of the boys would soon come looking for you. Marko in particular really enjoyed barging in and throwing pillows at you to wake you up. This earned him a few shots back every time, and he was even chased out by Paul before, not like it had any effect. You really weren’t in the mood for that whole chaos now, so you took matters into your own hands.

You started peppering kisses on the top of his head and softly calling his name. When it didn’t have any effect, you decided to go for his weak spot and started lightly scratching your nails along his neck. He let out a muffled groan and you had to bite your lower lip not to do the same. Your hands worked their way along his back, dipping under his shirt at his waist and gently stroking his skin, making him press his hips against your thigh with a needy whine. Warmth started pooling in your lower region, and if the hardness against your thigh was anything to go by, he must have felt good too. You knew he was awake at this point, felt him smiling against your skin, but pretended in the hopes that you continue with your touching. So you moved your hands lower and squeezed his ass.

“God, babe, don’t stop.”

You chuckled at his sleepy voice and pressed another kiss against his temple.

“I’m not sure the others would appreciate if we made them wait. Marko might appear in the door.”

“I want to see him try.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will.”

With another groan he finally lifted his head, resting his chin against your chest, his hair a tousled mess which you affectionately patted down. You looked into his brilliant blue eyes, and your heart swelled.

“Morning, handsome,” you whispered.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered back with a dopey grin on his face. He loved it when you used pet names for him. He leaned in to lay soft kisses against your lips, each one getting longer and hungrier. Just to make you remember his predicament, he grinded his hips into yours again, causing you to moan into his mouth. He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands exploring your curves.

“Hey, lovebirds! We can hear you making out all the way over here! Get up already, don’t make me go in there!” Marko’s voice broke the moment, and you let out a frustrated groan, now just as fired up as Paul.

“Marko, if you don’t shut the hell up, I’ll beat your ass!” you yelled back, and you heard David and Dwayne laugh, all of them knowing full well that you would try.

“My hero,” Paul chuckled and pressed one long kiss against your lips before finally getting up from the bed. While you put on your clothes, the heated glances he sent you held the promise that you’ll continue what you started later.

You made your way out to the others who were already waiting by the bikes, ready to go. Marko sent you two a cheeky grin, which earned him a not so serious glare from you. David and Dwayne just shared a knowing look. Getting up behind Paul, you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing tight as you took off.

Riding with them was always exhilarating, and you didn’t hold back your screams of excitement, squeezing your arms around him tighter when you heard your boyfriend’s high pitched laughter. You sometimes wondered if you sounded like a pack of wolves with all the howling as you crossed the woods.

Bursting out from between the trees to the beach, your field of vision was filled with the familiar picture of the busy boardwalk with its bright lights and bustling noise. Your skin was practically buzzing with energy. It was a place full of potential for people looking for a fun time, and that’s exactly what you were, even if your definition of ‘fun’ was a bit different in some aspects.

You parked near the entrance, your arrival bringing a lot of attention. You were used to strangers ogling at you, you couldn’t really blame them. Your group was certainly a sight to behold, their loud bikes and good looks were a magnet to the eyes. After getting off from behind Paul, you slowly stretched out your muscles, the movement accentuating your figure, making your shirt ride up to show a bit of skin, then casually threw your hair over your shoulder. The effect was instantaneous, as you felt multiple eyes on you all at once, and when you lazily surveyed the surrounding crowd, you noticed a good few heads suddenly turning the other way.

You felt Paul’s arm sneaking around your shoulder, yours encircling his waist on instinct.

“I thought showing you off was my job,” he smirked at you.

“I can’t help it that I’m this good-looking,” you joked. “Besides, I want to show you off too,” you pecked his cheek, giggling when he leaned in for more.

Someone cleared their throat, and you turned to the boys who were all waiting for you, again. David raised one eyebrow with an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Sorry boys, but this is where we separate from you for tonight,” you stated, their expression turning from light confusion to teasing smiles in a second.

“Why? Tired of us already?”

“You, Marko? Always.”

He played the wounded soul quite convincingly until the corner of his lips started curling upwards.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the leader spoke up next.

“What, you don’t trust us, David?” you asked cheekily.

“Why would I?” he smirked.

“Okay, fair point.”

He snorted before turning to saunter away into the crowd.

“Have fun,” Dwayne added with a smile and a wink.

“Thanks, Dwayne.” Then he too joined the others.

Now that it was just the two of you, you looked up at Paul.

“What do you wanna do first?”

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a joint.

“Let’s start with the appetizer.”

You threw yourselves headfirst into fun; getting onto several rides and screaming your lungs out, then having a heavy makeout session on the Ferris wheel, which resulted in the attendant kicking you out because you were too distracted with each other to notice the ride was over. After eating yourselves full of sweets, and urged on by the sugar high, you proceeded to visit all of the game stalls, trying to beat each other at shooting games and both failing miserably cause you made each other laugh too much, both of you giggling like stupid teenagers. Paul made it his mission to win you a purple teddy bear he saw at one of the stalls, and was heartbroken when he didn’t get it. He pouted all the way to the food vendors, grumbling about how it was rigged for sure.

It was after you both got yourselves some soft drinks when someone tapped you on the shoulder, interrupting the nice time you had going. Turning around, you came face to chest with a guy wearing an obnoxiously open shirt. Now, you didn’t mind it with Dwayne, but this guy’s whole vibe screamed douchebag. Starting with the sunglasses he pushed to the top of his head so he can check you out more openly. Who the heck wears sunglasses at night?

“Hi,” he flashed you a smile that made your skin crawl.

“Uh, hi,” you replied, you tone already less than enthused.

“Can I get you a real drink?” he motioned to your soda.

“No thanks, I’m not interested.”

You moved to turn away, but he grabbed your shoulder this time. Oh hell no. You shot him your nastiest glare, then tore his hand off you, stepping back to put some distance between you two.

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” Sunglasses smirked down at you, trying to keep his composure, but you were having none of it.

“Like I said, I’m not interested,” you answered, emphasizing each word and making a big show of grabbing Paul’s hand.

Sunglasses didn’t take kindly to that, and he turned his growing irritation toward your boyfriend, who he seemingly barely noticed until now.

“You’re seriously into that? You sure have some questionable tastes in men,” he scoffed.

“Dude, chill out, she said no. So why don’t you just fuck off?” Paul decided to finally speak up after just observing the situation. He knew you could take care of yourself, but it seemed like this was slowly getting out of hand, and he just wanted this douche gone.

“Don’t you tell me what to do, freak. I can do whatever the hell I want. And if I want a piece of that,” he jerked his head towards you like you were a piece of meat, “than that’s what I’m gonna get.”

That’s it. Paul could take insults directed at him, but he would sure as hell not take him talking about his girl like that. If this absolute dick wanted to get up all in his face, he wasn’t one to back down. They were ready to throw hands, when both of them froze. Eyes going comically wide, they stared in unison at the big, sticky wet patches forming on the guy’s shirt, the liquid trickling down the side of his head and neck slowly soaking his clothes. Sunglasses turned around, and that’s when Paul spotted you behind his back, your empty glass still in your hand.

You looked up at Sunglasses with big sheepish eyes.

“Oops, I guess my hand slipped.”

Paul burst out laughing. The guy was so dumbfounded he was rendered speechless for a long second, like his brain couldn’t fathom that someone would humiliate him like this. Because people around you were already looking and pointing. But when it did register to him, his face turned to a shade of red you haven’t seen before. He looked like a big angry tomato pumped full of steroids. You finally cracked up, and you cackled as you dodged the arm he swung at you, easily dancing out of his way. You grabbed Paul’s hand and the two of you took off running, the sound of the guy’s loud cursing quickly drowned out by the noise of the crowd.

When you were sure you got far enough, you slowed your pace to an easy stroll. With the laughter barely dying off your lips, you pressed a sloppy kiss on Paul’s cheek.

“My hero,” you giggled.

“Always, babe,” he stated with a happy little smile.

Pushing the incident to the back of your mind, you were determined to have fun, and not let it hinder your mood. So the two of you threw yourselves back into the night.

Somehow you ended up at the stage, surrounded by warm bodies, all bopping and swaying and jumping together to the rhythm. You let yourself completely loose, let the wave of the music and the movement of the crowd around you take you to wherever it wanted, washing away every problem, every little annoyance. It was phenomenal, and you felt your spirit soar high above you with the ocean wind.

A familiar hand wrapped around your own, bringing you back to the ground, and your eyes locked with the most brilliant pair of blue you’ve ever seen, the color and all of its variations already seared into your mind. Right now, they were shining bright, the lights of the stage bringing a playful glint to them that you adored. Your gaze fell to his lips, causing a wide grin to spread across them. The next time you looked up, his eyes were a darker shade, and he was standing a lot closer to you than you realized, the two of you practically pushed together by the people around you, still moving, still dancing.

You don’t know who moved first, but in the next second you were tangled together, hands roaming planes and curves of bodies, fingers coursing through hair, lips hungry against each other. It felt like the beat of the music was running through your veins, reigniting your long dead hearts and willing it to beat again. It was electrifying and intense. That’s just how your love worked. Sometimes it was silly, sometimes it was passionate, but it was always all consuming. You completely gave yourselves to each other, body, soul and all, for as long as you were on this earth. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You were reluctant to come back to reality, too high off the intensity of the moment to stop, but knowing if you didn’t stop soon, you would commit public indecency. Paul groaned when you finally drew back from him, his lips puffy and his eyes pleading.

“Not here and not now, pretty boy,” you purred against his mouth. He almost started pouting, so you winked at him and threw in a middle ground. “How about you take me out to dinner first? Then you can devour me all you want.”

He seemed pleased with that solution, almost too eager to go.

You barely left the proximity of the stage, Paul’s arm casually thrown around your shoulder, yours around his waist, leisurely strolling away, when you heard a shout from behind you.

“There they are!”

You turned your heads at the same time, and spotted the guy from before. He also brought two friends. They were still further away, but rapidly closing the distance, pushing people out of their way, trying to get to you quicker. You exchanged looks.

“Uh-oh,” you blurted out.

A mischievous grin stretched across Paul’s face.

“You said something about dinner?”

Catching on to what he was implying, you burst out in giggles and grabbed his hand before you both took off running. The yelling and fast stomping from behind you was enough indication that they were indeed in hot pursuit. You weaved in between vendors, dodging people left and right, almost colliding a few times, but never letting go of each other. Indignant yelps sounded behind you as you bumped into people, and curses were thrown at you when you pushed stuff into your chasers way. All around chaos was left in your wake, and you already heard Max’s lecture in your head that you would surely receive when he caught wind of this. Laughter bubbled up your throats from the adrenaline rush and you cackled as you turned towards the beach, all the way down the stair, you laughed and howled like hyenas as your feet hit the sand. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed that they were not far behind. A small squeeze on your hand made you look over at Paul. He had the widest grin on his face, hair messy and wind-blown, his whole body practically radiating, and when he turned to you, eyes shining bright, his hand tightly wrapped around your own, your heart swelled with joy. Surely, this is what real freedom felt like.

You didn’t stop until you reached the underside of the pier and disappeared between the wooden beams. It wasn’t long until your pursuers caught up. Not seeing you at first, they ventured deeper into the darkness.

“There’s no point in hiding, you little bitch! We’re going to find you and your bitch of a boyfriend and then you’ll be sorry for humiliating me like that!” Sunglasses yelled, puffing out his chest, trying to sound all intimidating.

“Who said I’m trying to hide?” you appeared before them, simply walking out of the shadows.

Your confidence and casual tone seemed to unnerve them. The two goons were shifting anxiously, glancing around for Paul. They were ready to get this fight over with and get out of here. Sunglasses, however, took a step towards you, oblivious to the shift in the air around him.

“You got some nerve, girl, I’ll give you that,” he scoffed, running his tongue along his lower lip. “But you’re a bit too bossy for my taste. Maybe if I took you for a few rounds you would learn your place.”

Your face hardened, eyes becoming impossibly darker, before a predatory smirk slowly stretched across your face.

“You know why we brought you here?” you asked lowly, gesturing around you in a slow motion.

Sunglasses was visibly confused, but the bobbing of his Adam’s apple let you know he finally seemed to realize that something was wrong. You raised up one finger, pointing at the pier above you, the hustle and bustle of the people above audible even down here.

“Because right here no one will hear your screams.” Your voice sounded like ice, and the terror on their faces as you started to change right in front of them only fueled your hunger.  “And for the record, I’m the only one who can call Paulie my bitch. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Their eyes followed your gaze behind their backs, where Paul seemed to materialize out of thin air, his irises glowing yellow from his monstrous face.

“Damn right, dollface.”

They didn’t even have time to react before you descended upon them. And just as you said, their shrieking was drowned out by the screams coming from the roller coaster above. There was no escape, you were too fast, dragging them back into the shadows, fangs tearing into skin, gulping down their warm blood and relishing its taste. You made quick work on the three men, and watching the life drain from their trashing bodies gave you a sick satisfaction. You licked your lips the same way he did when you were finished with them.

You looked up at Paul, chest heaving, with rivulets of blood still running down your face and neck, smearing around your lips, painting them red. He looked no different, with crimson specks stuck in his hair, already back in his human form, but eyes still containing remnants of yellow.

When his gaze met yours, a flirty little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Look at you, pretty girl! All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

You flashed him your most charming smile in response. You both burst out in chuckles, giggling to yourselves like schoolgirls as if you didn’t just tear three men apart. The next time you locked eyes, something shifted between you, and you felt a tug in your stomach. You needed to close the distance between you, and if the hasty steps he took towards you was anything to go by, he felt it too. Stepping over bodies, you met in the middle, lips attaching together in an instant, and Paul moaned into your mouth as he tasted the blood on your tongue.

“You said something about devouring you after taking you out to dinner,” he purred, voice silky soft.

“I did. But not here. I don’t want an audience,” you eyed the remnants of your dinner lying at your feet.

“Fair enough, I don’t want to share that sight either,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you snorted.

“Come on, pretty boy, I have an idea.”

He followed you like an eager puppy as you departed from the darkness of the space under the pier and made your way to a secluded section of the beach, a nice little spot you’ve found on one of your midnight wanderings. You knew it would come in handy eventually.

You got a hold of the lapel of his jacket and pulled him back in, already missing his closeness and his lips on yours. He was all too happy to satiate your craving, his hands sneaking into the back pockets of your pants. You could never grow tired of this, your bodies pressed together, taking the time with exploring and getting a good taste of each other, mouths moving together lazily, sloppily, familiarly, knowing exactly what makes the other tingle in pleasure. But this was only the warmup.

Pulling away from him, you looked back up at him through your lashes, your lips curling into a cheeky smile.

“As much as I love seeing you drenched in blood, we still need to go meet up with the boys. And I don’t think David would be happy with us showing up like this on the boardwalk, not after the mess we’ve already created.”

Paul glanced from you to the ocean behind you, the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out what you were planning.

“Oh yeah? And what do you suggest, babe?”

Your grin grew wider.

“Something you’ll like.”

Then in one fluid motion you pulled off your top and tossed aside. When you met his eyes again, the look he gave you was so full of love and adoration, it genuinely made your heart ache. Because how the hell did you get so lucky to find a guy who looks at you like that, even after seeing you naked a thousand times, who makes you feel this desired and confident in your skin?

A huge grin grew on his lips and he whooped in excitement.

“Hell yeah, now we’re talking!” he cheered as he was already in the process of dropping all his clothes, with yours following right after.

He practically carried you into the ocean, your shrieking laughter cut off as he tossed you into the water. You were on your feet the next second, splashing him and dragging him down with you when you caught a hold of him. It wasn’t long before your playfighting turned into something steamier, and you finally gave into the desire you’ve both been holding back ever since you woke up at the cave in each other’s arms.

With the stars of the summer night sky shining above you, watching over you, the two of you got lost in each other while the balmy breeze caressed your bare skins, your sounds getting lost under the crushing of the waves and the rumble of the boardwalk in the distance. You made love in the water, on the sand, you devoured each other, lips exploring every inch of skin, fingers sinking into soft flesh. He was gentle, then not so much, taking in every sound you made, worshipping your body. Then you took charge, getting on top of him and leaving him a beautiful moaning mess under you. Your passion lasted hours, time blurring together in the overwhelming pleasure.

By the time you made your way back to the bikes, the boys were already there, and morning was fast approaching. Dwayne and David were deep in conversation, the latter periodically taking drags of his cigarette. Marko was the first to notice you, his lips stretching into a cheeky grin when he took in your faces. Ignoring his suggestive stares, you greeted them with a smile.

“You made quite the spectacle tonight,” David remarked. Damn, cutting right to the case.

“You knew you couldn’t trust us with behaving,” you quipped back.

“I did,” he smiled at you, clearly amused. “Max won’t be happy though.”

You shrugged. “Oh well.”

There was a long moment of silence before he spoke up again.

“Did he deserve it?” There was no question about what he meant by that, all of you knowing full well it wasn’t about the drink-throwing or even the chase through the boardwalk. He didn’t have to ask what you did to the guy.

“Hell yes!” you and Paul answered unanimously, and the others chuckled, a comfortable mood settling over your group.

As you all got on your bikes, ready to go home, Marko spotted something that made him guffaw.

“Damn, girl, did you take a bite out of him too?” he motioned towards Paul’s neck. There were undeniable teeth marks and hickeys already forming there.

“I couldn’t help it, he’s too sweet,” you teased, and Paul blew a kiss over his shoulder to you.

Marko made a gagging sound which earned him a swat over the back of the head by Dwayne.

David revved his bike, a clear indication that he was ready to go, reminding you that there was not much time left before daylight took over. The others followed suit, and you took off back to the cave, back to home.

Rewinding the events of the night after you were already snuggled up to Paul in your nest, your mind wandered back to the thoughts you were having just hours ago, when you were lying there in a very similar position. You really were content with your life with the boys. Yes, it was chaotic at times, but that was in your nature. You were wild creatures after all. Living with them granted you a taste of true freedom in a way you haven’t experienced before. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pressed a light kiss against Paul’s chest, and he unconsciously tightened his hold on you, his nose buried in your hair, mind already in dreamland. Surrounded by the warmth of your nest and the scent of your lover, you drifted off to sleep just as the sun broke the horizon outside.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

[giganticfrenchfry]

So, I got harassed by antis on a literal pixel game for having a "problematic" ship name as my discord user. The things they said to me were really gross.

Started off with this person and their sheep of a friend confronting me. After I called out them being weird, they made a big fuss and soon about 11 other players crowded around me.

Multiple times I was asked if i would date a LITERAL ADULT because of a fiction ship that I like. It made me extremely uncomfy.

I called them out for being disgusting by asking that, but they doubled down saying, "It's a hypothetical! It's fiction!" No, it's not fiction because I am a REAL PERSON that you're asking! I am a REAL LIVING MINOR. But of course, this literally meant nothing to them.

One anti claimed that literal CARTOONS are conscious and have a mind of their own... I think my generation is cooked yall.. 💀🙏🏿

And of course, they made serious jokes about diddy saying that I liked him. Over me shipping two damn cartoons.

To put the cherry on top, one of them brought h1tl3r into the equation. Icky.

This whole thing was a mess. They were all doing weird sitting motions on my character and even did spitting emotes on me. I stood my ground and never insulted them, and eventually they got bored and left after a WHOLE HOUR. So much for their "activism!"

I told them "you aren't saving any kids by harassing me on a pony game" and one person's response was, "I know, but it's funny!" It really isn't.

What bothers me the most about this is the fact that some of the people harassing me were probably adults. I wish I had taken more screenshots, but there were so many players and chat boxes were covering each other. Total chaos over a damn anime ship.

I didn't want to make a super long post, but the things they said were gross and I feel like other people need to be aware that THESE PEOPLE are claiming to be the "normal" and "safe" group.

Stay safe online, everyone <3

♡

[emotionalhottiee]

Broken 💔

Jimmy Uso/Jonathan Fatu

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

just a quick oneshot until i get over this writers block. Hope you enjoy.

Heart Broken…

Doesn’t even begin to explain how i feel. How could he do this to us?

Thoughts of frustration and brokenness ran rampant through my mind as hot tears poured down my face. After all i had been through with Jonathan how could he throw away everything we had. My mind ran back to walking into his condo, opening his bedroom door to be met with an image of some ig thot, bent over while the love of my life was behind her. My heart shattered had into a million pieces.

Now the tears I’ve been crying out, for the past 30 minutes have blurred my vision. Thinking about that day against my will. But seeing him tonight made the memory pop up. Even though i knew there was a slight chance he would be at our friends birthday party. Actual seeing him, just felt like another knife being jammed right into my heart.

“Kenzi, are you alright in there?” “You’ve been in this bathroom a long time” my friend Kiara screamed through the door.

I hadn’t even realized i had been in here that long, but i just couldn’t stop crying. Watching Jon strut up in this party with some new girl on his arm. As if the last year and a half meant so little to him, he could move on within days. LITERALLY 5 days ago i caught him in bed with another woman.

And now it’s saturday, and he bought a whole other woman with him. Damn, How many others were there? I thought to myself as i wiped the tears from my bloodshot red eyes. Trying to cover up the fact that i been in the bathroom of a mutal friend of ours,sobbing over this man. What did i ever do to make him be so cold & callous towards me?

I have to pull myself together! I tried to tell myself encouragingly, i am not going to let him see me, so vulnerable. For what? He doesn’t seem to care in the least bit. Too busy fake laughing at the girl with her ass hanging out of her shorts.

He’s knows her ass ain’t that funny.

As i finish up wiping my face, one last time. Before i could even get myself all the way out of the bathroom Kiara yanked my ass into a tight hug. She knew i needed this that’s why she my friend.

“Girl don’t let him make you sad. Fuck him, you deserve so much better.” She calmly stated to me rocking us back & forth. This is exactly what will make my ass start crying again. But i am so thankful for my friend, trying to keep me from being sad.

Against Kiara’s advice i decided to stay at this party. This was one of Jon & I’s mutal friend, I’m not gonna let him feel like he has won (Even though he totally has won).

I put on my bravest face to go back and chill, before our friends pull out a game of taboo. We had split up into two teams and of course i end up on a team with Jon & his whore of the week. It was almost as if God was punishing me for still wanting to be around him. But truth be told i was obsessed with him. I loved him more than the air i breathed.

And as much as i can possibly lie to myself, i know he loves me too.

*some time later*

The party winded down, Kiara & I were helping our friends clean up. Jon’s little girlfriend ended up leaving. I thought they would’ve rode together but i guess not. And I’m honestly kinda happy about that. He’s been staring at me all night. Now that he’s alone i know where this night will take us. Especially since i rode with Kiara.

Jon asked me if i needed a ride home, knowing damn well i don’t like driving at night. I tried to act like i had to go back with Kiara, she gave us a shrug letting us know she didn’t mind. She knew me too well. As much as she wanted me to stand up for myself, she knew where my heart was. And wanting to be there for me she wasn’t gonna fight me on it. I appreciated that. Giving her a hug goodnight she gave me eyes of pleading, but with a hint of be careful. I rubbed her arms up & down letting her know i’d be okay.

The ride back to Jon’s house was quiet at first nothing but low 90s R&B playing. But he eventually turned the music off. He grabbed my hand while holding the steering with his other and apologized for his actions within the last week. My eyes filled up to the brim before a tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t even respond. I just held onto his hand, he bought my hand up to his mouth still holding it kissing it ever so gently. This is the soft, caring Jon i feel in love with. For a quick second he looked at me our eyes staring into one another. Until he turned his eyes back to the road.

This is going to be a great night.

[its-time-to-write]

chapter 6

table of contents i love you still

You’re no stranger to Jamie’s internet presence, extensive as it is. But even though you know what comes up when you type jamie tartt babies you still think it should have come with a warning. 

There’s picture after picture of him meeting toddlers, holding babies, signing tiny footballs and just generally being great with kids. 

It’s complete shit. 

He looks so natural with all of them, making them laugh as he smiles for the camera.

You’re tired. You should be asleep so you can be rested for the next day but you just can’t. You move from the chair in Clare’s room to your room, where you push open the doors to the balcony. You prop her monitor up on a chair just in case and take a deep breath. You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that, and the stakes are higher now. But the more you think about it, the more you convince yourself it could work if only you could absolutely trust that Jamie wouldn’t leave again.

“Damn it,” you whisper. You’ve already let him back in.

You sit and watch the mist roll in for another hour before doing your best to fall asleep.

Clare wakes up just before seven so you’re out the door for coffee by 8:30. You’re rushing for no particular reason, but everything feels urgent now. You walk to get coffee for you and Madeline, still feeling the need to look over your shoulder. You can’t shake the idea that someone’s looking at you until you spot a man across the way, staring. 

It takes you all of two seconds to recognize Roy Kent. 

You smile, nod, and turn away but the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. He knows, a voice whispers, but there’s no way he does because no one knows. No one knows except Madeline and Jamie and your parents who live all the way in Spain because they can, so there’s no way Roy Kent also knows that the baby you’ve wrapped to your chest is actually a mini Tartt, despite the fact that she does not have his last name. Just his whole face structure, apparently.

The walk to Madeline’s feels slower than normal but you finally let yourself into her flat and onto her couch.

She’s scrolling on her phone while a woman does her hair and another does her makeup.

“Madeline,” you say, no preamble, “I need you to tell me I’m an absolute idiot.”

“No,” she says without looking up from her phone. “I’m not psychic. Do something stupid and then I’ll reconsider but everyone knows you’re the one with the braincells in this relationship.”

“Madeline,” you plead, and she finally looks up.

“Babe. We both know you’ve already taken him back in your head. And we’ve never spoken about it because I was giving you your space to come to terms with the fact that you’re fucking hung up on him and most likely will be until the end of time. I can’t entirely blame you because he can be amazing. But when he’s shit, he’s shit. It’s just a matter of time before you’re back together and if he knows what’s good for him, he won’t fuck up this time, but...” she trails off.

“But he doesn’t always know what’s good for him,” you finish. “Fuck. I’m so fucked.”

Madeline shrugs. “Maybe.”

“The fuck do you mean, ‘maybe’?”

“Hold still,” whispers the makeup artist so there’s a moment of silence before Madeline says, “It’s entirely within the realm of possibilities that he is turning himself around from grimy little footballer to respectable athlete. Don’t you think it’s at least worth noticing that his ex-girlfriend vouches for him?”

“Mads, what the fuck,” you groan. “You’re supposed to tell me to date a rapper. Or move to Milan. Or marry a millionaire. Not say that there’s a chance this will work.”

Clare fusses in your arms so you stand up and start swaying her back and forth. “Bean, give me your thoughts on this look,” Madeline says, so you walk over and hold Clare up. She sneezes, and you laugh.

“That means she likes it,” Madeline says. “Look, Bean is so little she won’t even remember if her dad leaves again. Then at least you’ll know, you know what I mean? You’re going to give him a chance anyway, so might as well do it while she’s small and has no sense of object permanence.”

You laugh with a bit of resignation. Madeline’s right, as per usual. “I promise I won’t be overbearing when he leaves.”

Madeline grins. “You can be as overbearing as you like as long as you keep bringing me coffee. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Funny,” you reply, “I was going to say the exact same about you.”

Madeline smiles her most angelic smile. “I’m a fucking saint,” she says. “Hey, are you staying for the interview? Bean can nap upstairs if you like.”

You shake your head. “No, she’s been waking up crying and you don’t need that in the background. I think we’ll walk around for a bit, the fresh air’s good for her and I really want some tea.”

Madeline says, “I have tea,” and you amend, “I’m going to want tea that I don’t have to make.”

Madeline snorts, and the two of you lapse into silence. You’re quiet for the rest of the time it takes for her to finish getting ready (twenty minutes), help her choose which outfit (the dark grey one), and then pass her Clare for some photos before heading out the door. The day feels less ominous after seeing her, so you head home to get Clare’s pram in hopes she’ll fall asleep.

You almost don’t want to go out again by the time you’ve changed and fed her, eaten lunch, and re-bundled the both of you up but Clare seems like she’s not going to sleep without a fight, so you sigh and head out the door again.

You head to the Richmond green, thankful that the sun is shining despite the brisk air. Clare’s passed out after one lap so you look for a bench in the sun. You sit and watch as people jog by and kids kick a ball around.  It’s a nice day. Maybe you’ll call Madeline and see if she wants to come over for dinner once she’s done working.

No, she has a dinner with some of her collaborators. You’re on your own tonight, unless you call Jamie. Your nose wrinkles involuntarily at the thought. He might not even want that, so you’ll let it alone.

A man walks along the path with a little blonde-haired girl. No- it’s Roy Kent. You didn’t know he had a daughter but then again, he certainly wouldn’t be the first in that situation. 

She clearly likes him by the way she’s bouncing up and down as she pulls on his arm. It seems despite his reputation as Chelsea’s hard man he has a soft spot for whoever this child is. You duck your head as if he’ll recognize you, even though you know he won’t.

“Uncle Roy, when are we going to Keeley’s?” you here the girl say as they get closer and you file that away. So it’s Uncle Roy, then. You miss his answer as Clare fusses so you gently push her pram back and forth and murmur, “Go back to sleep, Bean.”

Roy and the girl’s footsteps stop. Right in front of you.

Roy looks into the pram and then at you. You have no choice but to meet his gaze and fuck, he definitely knows. But how the actual fuck did he find out?

“Nice baby,” he finally says and you don’t reply.

“I’m Phoebe,” says Phoebe, in an apparent attempt to dispel the tension. She’s a smart kid, you can tell, and the last thing you need is some random child blabbing your business all around London.

You say, “I think your Uncle Roy already knows who I am,” you say, and Roy doesn’t even look a little fucking guilty.

Of course he knows, Keeley had all but put together a Powerpoint presentation by the morning.

“Your friend knows my girlfriend,” he says, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Keeley fucking Jones has struck again. She always was a bit too nosy for your taste.

You frown, sigh, and say, “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Roy sits on the far end of the bench with Phoebe in the middle. You’re both watching each other carefully, as though one of you could snap at any moment.

“What do you want?” you ask, voice sharp. “It can’t be money, I can’t imagine you’re hard up. Are you misguided enough to ask me to disappear before I ruin your golden boy’s career? Because believe me, I’m not trying to start anything. He’s the one who came looking for me, for your information.”

You don’t stop rocking Clare’s pram. It’s a calming motion for both you and for her because unfortunately, there’s no easy escape route here. 

Roy asks, “You worried he’s going to end up like his fucking dick of a father?” and Phoebe (who has been pretending like she isn’t listening) scribbles furiously in her notebook.

That is not even close to what you expected him to say. You just look at him, eyes wide. “I-” you start, then stop. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

You’re no stranger to James Tartt. Jamie had come home more times than you’d care to count with a bruised eye or a split lip, and it wasn’t until the third time you were putting ice on his face that he finally told you why. 

“Jamie isn’t like that,” you tell Roy. He has to know Jamie isn’t like that. He works with him. He has to.

“How the fuck do you know?” Roy asks, but it’s more bemused than anything. 

“He’s never done anything even close to what James has done,” you say, and it’s true. It’s not even a stretch of the imagination, Jamie never raised his voice or his hand at you.

It didn’t stop him from breaking your heart, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Roy shrugs. “You never fucking know, do you? Who’s to say it’s not fucking genetics or some shit?”

That pisses you the fuck off. Jamie’s no saint, but you believe that deep down he’s good. You believe he wants to be good.

So you smile, look Roy directly in the eyes over Phoebe’s head, and say as cold as you can, “Fuck you. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stand. “We’re leaving.”

Roy says, “Oi,” but it’s softer than the horrible things he’s been insinuating about Jamie so you turn back to him. 

“He’s not fucking horrible,” Roy says quietly, and almost as though it pains him to get the words out. “He’s a right little shit, but the prick’s had a rough fucking time of it lately. Go fucking easy on him, because no one else fucking does.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I’m not fucking saying he doesn’t fucking deserve it, but I am fucking saying he’s not a world-class prick and if you fucking were going to give him a fucking chance, it’s not the fucking stupidest thing I’ve fucking seen.” 

Roy seems as though he’s hit his limit for both speech and sentimentality, and you’re no stranger to his rivalry (hatred?) with Jamie so you take his words for what they are. 

You nod. “Don’t tell him you saw me,” you say and Roy almost smiles. 

“Fucking don’t like to fucking talk to Tartt more than I fucking have to,” he replies. You smile back at him and as you leave he says, “She really fucking looks like him,” and you nod. 

Fuck.

next chapter

[piratefishmama]

Fake it till you make it | Part 4

‘Boundaries’ were harder to settle on than they'd expected them to be. Eddie didn’t seem to want to put anything on the “strictly no” list. Even when Steve suggested sex should be on there Eddie just wiggled his brows and claimed a week in a cabin with him might change things.

Steve found that hilarious enough to laugh at (much to Eddie's adorable pout) but also too fair to disagree with.

They were two healthy, queer, adult men! What was a little consensual nookie between fake boyfriends?

Plus he couldn’t tell if Eddie was joking or not so he put that on the mental ‘maybe a boundary’ list that may or may not be tested.

Steve wasn’t about to completely rule it out either! He had a healthy libido and Eddie wasn’t unattractive. He… actually was pretty damn attractive.

Nice eyes, nice hair, nice lips, nice voice, nice han— anyway, they had a whole week together in a romantic chalet, pretending to date.

Anything could happen. Especially if they didn’t rule anything out. And ruling it out only made it seem more exciting, like it was dangerous. Best to just not rule it out.

“What about kissing?” Steve pondered aloud, a small frown on his brow

“If I’m not ruling out sex, Harrington, I think kissing should be fi—"

“No, dumbass, not ruling it out, I mean… it’s gotta seem like a thing we normally do right? An you gotta stop calling me Harrington, it’s Steve. Boyfriends don’t call each other by their last names.”

“I’ll have a mental list of pet names prepared before the day ends, don’t you worry, Stevie, but what do you suggest? Are you thinking we should practice?” Eddie leaned forward a grin stretching on his lips that almost seemed predatory, like he was expecting Steve to stumble through a rebuttal, expecting him to back down or to apologise, but no, Steve wasn’t some simpering maiden who’d bashfully turn him down.

Steve was an experienced ladies man with a reputation for being… for lack of a better term, a bit of a hometown slut.

Even if he had no practical experience with men, that didn’t stop him from exuding confidence as he moved onto his haunches and crossed the very short distance between them, forcing that mischievous little shit right back into his spot as Steve basically climbed from his hands and knees into Eddie’s lap, watching in satisfaction as all that mischief just kind of…

Drained from his face.

Drained and replaced with wide-eyed rosy cheeked surprise, his hands extended out either side of himself to avoid touching Steve’s body. Adorable.

“Maybe we should.”

“Ah—uhm—heh—y-yeah I mean—m-maybe not here though, yeah?” He talked a good game, he put on a damn fine front, but Eddie Munson wasn’t exactly swimming in cock. Wasn’t even paddling. Or wading the cock waters.

No he was mainly just suffering in queer silence on dry land with just good ol leftie and a few skin mags to make himself feel better. Although the image of Steve Harrington in his lap? Oh yeah that’d do him for a few months.

Sad that it ended so fast though, with Steve backing his perfectly plush ass right back into his seat quickly after, holding his hands up in mock surrender, accepting the stuttered rejection like a champ.

“Wherever you feel comfiest, man, but I suggest we figure that shit out fast, we don’t have long before this trip an you’ll have to meet them before we go so we’re going to have to be comfortable with each other, especially if it’s an environment where we have no excuse to not be comfortable.” If they were in public? Absolutely they’d have many excuses readily available.

The chalet? Not public. In fact it was quite big, the only reason he was so sure his parents would bring someone for him was because it was big enough that they could do their own thing for hours without crossing paths. Sure the bedrooms were close to each other but there were other rooms to fuck around in.

Damn thing had two Jacuzzi’s and a sauna. Not to mention a home cinema to fool around in.

They’d be hoping that he’d spend some easily obtained alone time with this mystery person. God he’d be being pimped out by his parents. How had his life come to this?

“You want me to meet them before we go?” He was just expecting to turn up on the day and be ‘Steve’s new boyfriend’ that they’d never met and would just have to accept would be in attendance. In that scenario he assumed Steve would just get the okay from them to have him come and that be that but—

Clearly his imagination was not even remotely true to real life. “Uhh… yeah, they’ll wanna know who they’re spending a week with, Eddie, c’mon, fake dating starts like… now…”

“So can I charge you from now?”

“Dude that’d be double—”

“Aren’t you rich?”

“I work minimum wage at Family Video for crying out loud, no I’m not rich. My parents are rich, I make enough to keep the lights on and keep my fridge stocked while they’re away. C’mon man… I can do a week, I have savings that’ll cover a week but two weeks? That’s fourteen-hundred, dude, I can’t—” Two weeks was stretching things uncomfortably far. Like… going into debt kind of far. He couldn’t ask his parents for money because they’d wanna know what it was for and for him to get a receipt and Eddie didn’t do receipts. Or refunds. “I might actually starve.”

“… Fine.” He almost argued, you live in a McMansion Steve, I live in a trailer park, but then… Steve did actually work at Family Video, wouldn’t just do that if he didn’t have to, who’s to say his parents paid for anything for him? Who’s to say they didn’t pull the ‘you’re an adult now, son, we’ll let you live here but you have to pull your own weight’ shtick parents were apparently so fond of? God what if they made him pay rent?

Eddie really didn’t know anything about the Harringtons.

Steve clearly didn’t go to college, so… maybe his dad wouldn’t hire him for a role he wasn’t qualified for? Unlikely but not impossible if recent discoveries concerning Steve Harrington were to be used as a reference point. Couldn't assume anything about him. “Fine?”

“Yeah, fine. How about, instead… we stick with my original rate an call it a flat seven hundred, fifty per day, an we start now? We can head to the trailer park an figure shit out there, deduct today so it’s only six fifty cause we’re brainstorming. My uncle may be home, but he should be asleep now. He works nights. We should be fine… unless you wanna head to yours and go in blind, take a ‘we’re figuring things out together awkwardly’ approach to it?” That’d track, he could do awkward, he could probab—

“Nah, they’d never think I was awkward at dating, even though you are a guy.” Of course they wouldn’t. Their lady killer son would never be awkward about dating… he wasn’t either, that was the kicker. He’d got all the way up in Eddie’s business not five minutes ago and looked comfortable doing it, like he actually would have practiced kissing in the back of Eddie’s beat up old van.

Holy shit he could have been making out with Steve Harrington in the back of his van.

He said not here, yeah?

What the shit was his problem?!

Was he actually completely insane?

He was going to be a virgin forever.

“You good there, Ed?”

“Huh?” He squeaked. Eddie Munson did not squeak, but yet, there he was. Squeakin away. “Oh! Y-yeah yeah, just coming to an abrupt unfortunate conclusion, yep, I am a-ok completely and totally oooone-hundreeeeeee— okay I came to a very real realisation that I could have been basically making out with you for ‘practice’ in the back of my van in the bushes where nobody could interrupt us and that could have gone anywhere cause it’s comfy back here yet i decided to tell you ‘not here, yeah?’ like a perma-virgin so— yeah.”

“Jeez… maybe you could pull off the awkward boyfriend thing.”

“…So about that fourteen hundred.”

Part 6

[rachetmath]

RWBY x Video games pt 2

Ruby: Okay so this time we were paired or geouped for some games. Me and my team were in Borderlands.

Jaune: Really? Which one?

Yang: All of them.

Jaune: *laughs* Okay. Okay. So who was right, the hunter or the deemed villains?

Ruby: Simple it was-

Weiss: Villains.

Blake: What?!

Yang: Babe we have to admit in a world like Pandora it might as well be the insane, and probably the most irredeemable place to live in.

Ruby: Doesn't matter. Jax is more evil than all those psychos. He knew what he was doing.

Weiss: Yeah but he was trying to get rid of psychos and provide people who are less crazy a safe place to live. Even though it's madness considering he’ll tax people.

Blake: What about the twins?

Yang: I mean shoot they were more of an after-product. They might as well represent that being a hunter ain't all what it is cracked up to be. Cause there will always be somebody bigger and badder who will one-up you in every way. Not just that they probably have brought more order to Pandora than we ever did.

Ruby: But-

Jaune: Okay! Forget I asked before you tear each other apart.

Ruby: Fine. Anyways what games were you guys in?

Nora and Ren: It Takes Two.

Yang: Oh. I mean it's easy considering-

Nora: No, we had issues.

Ren: A lot of them.

Nora: But the levels were beautiful. And Jaune.

Jaune: ?

Nora: If you ever want to talk I’m here.

Jaune: Hm.

Ruby: Wow you and Jaune have… tension.

Nora: I know.

Yang: Anyways, what about you, Jaune?

Jaune: O well I was by myself-

Emerald: Oh hell no. You lying ass bitch.

Weiss: Woah, hold on, Emerald why are you mad?

Emerald: I was with his pussy ass in the game. It took hours to get out.

Jaune: Cause you couldn't let me do my objectives.

Emerald: And make the game easier to where the Grimm will suspect us? No.

An incoming message saying, “The objective is to clear the game. The NPCs would have made his job hard enough considering there is no save button. You just made it more difficult for him by getting in his way. You could have stood still.”

Jaune: See.

Emerald: Well I gave you a fair shot.

Jaune: Please, it took you killing me I don't know how many times for me to even want to settle the score. By the way, I didn't appreciate the dry humping.

Emerald: Fuck you.

Jaune: Fuck you too. Don't be mad because I managed to outplay you. You are just trash.

Emerald: Okay. See-see we can fight. We can settle this now.

Jaune: Girl I will have you on your knees, begging. In fact I will have you scream my name and call me ‘Daddy’ like you ain't my daughter.

Nora: Are you two trying to insult each other or-

Emerald: Yes!

Jaune: Probably both.

Ruby: I feel disturbed to ask but what game was-?

Jaune and Emerald: Death Loop.

RWBY: Ew.

Nora: Gross.

Ren: I mean-no, I- I second that. Ew.

Emerald: *blushes* Shut up!

Ruby: Anyways where’s Oscar?

Oscar: Here.

Ruby: What game were you in?

Oscar: I wasn't in a game.

Jaune: What?!

Emerald: Don't tell me you have been sitting here the whole time.

Oscar: Yep.

Jaune: Oscar we are going through hell trying to stay alive. You didn't think to go and try to find us a way out?

Oscar: Sorry.

Jaune: Damn it!

Emerald: Stupid ass- Hazel made a damn mistake sparring you!

Jaune: Hey now don't get out of line.

Emerald: Or what?!

Jaune: I-

A door appears.

The message said, “If you two need to blow off steam then take a break here.”

Yang: Seriously? Like they are that tense to-

The door closes immediately with Jaune and Emerald gone.

Blake: *jaws dropped*

Weiss: They-they… impossible…

Ruby: Weiss claim down I sure-

Emerald: Ah~ Yes~ Harder. HARDER!!!

Ruby: Oh I hate being wrong.

Weiss: Fuck.